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starvity · 10 months

Text

— ☆ zb1 reacting to you crying after an argument

gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)

genre: angst turning into fluff // warnings: arguments and crying obviously, shouting

author’s note: thank you for requesting anonie <3 (★ω★)/ [requested♡]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong

after an argument, you two would need your time by yourselves before approaching the problem. jiwoong withdraws in the kitchen, calming himself down and gathering his thoughts before heading to your shared room. before opening the door he hears a faint sound of your sobs and he sighs to himself. he enters the bedroom and notices you sitting on the edge of the bed, back turned to him. jiwoong approches you quietly, wraps his arms around your torso and strokes your shoulders. with reassuring words and apologies, he calms you down in order to have a serious talk together.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao

zhang hao is petty and would always want to have the last word. you guys would speak relatively loud (because hao is originally loud) but not to the point of yelling at you. every time you would try to finish the argument because the bickering was getting long and tiring, he would always bring something up and add fuel to the fire. you were trying to avoid arguing some more and declares that you were heading to the room to rest. hao apparently didn’t want to finish this later and he grabs your arm to make you turn around, while shouting your name rather loudly. you can’t help the tears rolling down your cheeks as you look at him. his eyes soften as he takes you in his arms, constantly cursing himself for making you cry. will pamper you for the rest of the night as an apology.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin

100% the type to cry with you. hanbin is an empath and the argument most definitely occured just because you were mad or sad at something so he became sad too and since you were both sensitive now, the smallest disagreement caused conflict. would want to treat the problem immediately. when he realises that you will start yelling and rambling very soon, he suggests for you two to calm down and settle on the couch to talk. the open heart conversation made you cry and hanbin followed soon after, both overly apologising for hurting each other. throughout the conversation you notice how softly he looks at you and how attentive he is to your body language. "tell me the truth" he says when he notices your eyes avoiding his and "it’s okay, i’m here" when he feels your fingers anxiously play with his. you definitely take a power nap together after, exhausted from all the tears.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew

you hear the door opening followed by a loud thud as a bag drops to the floor; matthew is back from the gym. he had stayed there for a relatively long time today, probably to relieve stress after you two had an argument this morning. you had assured him through texts that you were fine but your puffy nose and red cheeks can't hide the fact that you had been crying the entire afternoon. after you hid your tissues under your pillow, you watch him as he slightly opens the door. matthew immediately notices your sad face and whines, rushing to your side. he laughs nervously, engulfing you in a hug and leaving pecks all over your face. "you shouldn't lie to me", he apologizes over and over again as he tickles you to try to set a happier mood.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae

it was never taerae's intention to raise his voice at you but he sometimes can't control how loud it is. you had been listening to him as he sits in front of the bedroom door that you had closed. apologizing, blaming himself, he had tried everything to get you to open the door for him and despite how much you want to hug him, you don't want him to see you in this state. he hears your sobs and he once again gets mad at himself. suddenly, taerae rests his back against the door and starts singing. you take a moment to calm down with his soft voice and finally open the door. he immediately wraps his arms around your waist, his face diving into the crook of your neck. the night is filled with sorry’s and i love you’s as he lulls you to sleep.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky

ricky spots you quietly crying on the couch after you had a small argument in his room an hour ago and he is unsure of how to treat the problem and how to comfort you. he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen and, without a word, hands it to you. while you quietly take a sip, he grabs a tissue from the coffee table, wiping your tears with a soft smile on his face. you pucker your lips, both as a sign of "i acknowledge this as an apology" and as a "i’m not mad at you anymore" and he giddily places a peck on your lips, then your nose and eventually all over your face. "i’m sorry" you two mutter at the exact same time and the coincidence makes you burst out loud, already forgetting about what you were mad about in the first place.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin

it was hard to hide your tears from gyuvin who has been stuck to your side as soon as the argument toned down a bit. you had probably never seen him this quiet and it makes you think about how hurt he must’ve been. it was your first big fight with gyuvin and you’re still scared about how you’re supposed to solve it. you’re sitting on his lap, hugging, as you both stroke each other’s back. you pull back to look at him and notice his big round and sparkly eyes. he swipes his finger under your eye before the tear can roll down your cheek and you cradle his face in return, placing a small kiss on his forehead.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook

soft touches!! gunwook tries his best to understand and listen to you and he always makes an effort to be a good boyfriend overall. you couldn't help your sobs, feeling a bit embarrassed about how you were soaking his hoodie while crying on his shoulder. when you're done crying and ready to apologise for crying too hard because you were just being too emotional, he stops you. "it's okay to cry, you're all good" gunwook says softly, placing your head back on his shoulder as he glides his fingers through your hair. you end up talking all night about each other's concerns and feelings which definitely reinforced your relationship.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin

honestly speaking, he might avoid you at first. teasing and bickering would be a common thing in you and yujin's relationship because you're still young and a bit childish sometimes. however, it was the first time such an intense fight happened. you could both hear each other's sobs as you awkwardly sit on the couch but you were purposely ignoring each other. out of spite? maybe. but out of fear? surely. when the room gets quieter, yujin finally speaks "why are you mad?" he asks bluntly. you glare at him, tears already building up again before he blurts out a "sorry." you pat his head, realising that he is just trying his best to apologise. give him some time and do not take his sometimes clumsy and honest comments to heart, he is still learning :)

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literaila · 7 months

Text

fighting

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi gets in trouble at school

warnings: they are a family (and hate each other)

last part | next part

year three.

your mouth is a straight line, and you know both of them are staring at you.

you're all sitting in the car, three hours before megumi's supposed to get out of school, and it's been quiet for the last ten minutes.

you don't have anything to say, you think. nothing that will make sense of the mess in your head.

and satoru's eyes are glaring into your head, burning your skin. you want to shove him and tell him to leave you alone--even though he's not doing anything--but that seems hypocritical.

especially considering that megumi is suspended for the rest of the week.

“okay,” satoru says, after his eyes have basically glazed over from focusing on you for too long. “megumi, can you say something? i think her head's about to explode.”

“i'm fine,” you hiss. and then you glance at megumi in the rearview mirror and feel a little bad.

he looks smaller than usual. his eyes are shifting from you to satoru, and his mouth is open like he wants to say something but isn't sure what. and, of course, he's scrunched himself up, almost a ball right behind you.

you don't want to be frustrated with him, but it seems inevitable. he's just a kid, you try to think, but it doesn't work. when you were a kid you didn't--

so yeah, you feel bad for him. not that bad though. you know he knows what you’re going to say.

megumi sighs (but it sounds more reminiscent of one of satoru’s many whines). “i’m… sorry.”

he might as well be telling you that he cut out your heart, and blew up a church with how dreary his voice is.

satoru grins. “there. we’re cool now.” he reaches back and ruffles megumi’s hair. his arms are too long for anything in the world. he's basically an arachnoid. “y/n…” he hums. “you can stop frowning now. he apologized.”

you glance over at him, unimpressed. satoru will brush this away like everything else.

even though you know he cares--and doesn't want you to be mad, or megumi to feel guilty.

his stupid smile almost makes you break, but you look away.

“sorry for what megumi?” you ask, softly, trying to ignore your stupid roommate. he’s been downgraded.

“…hitting those kids.”

“are you actually sorry?” you clarify, even though you know the answer.

he’s silent.

you can see out of your peripheral when satoru gives him a nasty look. mouthing something to him.

at least you know where megumi gets this from. his protectiveness is not unique to you, but at least satoru does it jokingly. at least he only destroys the already destroyed.

maybe you're thinking too hard about this.

you sigh, this time, rubbing your eyes with one hand. “look, megumi, we can talk about it later.”

you could use a break from both of them. a couple of minutes to yourself to... probably cry in your bed and wonder why the world is so terrible.

“um, no we can’t.” satoru says. “i’m going to be gone later. i told you about my—“

you pinch his thigh over the gearshift. “we’ll talk without you.”

he gasps. “excuse you,” he says, “but i am a part of this conversation.”

“yes, i think you’ve done plenty to contribute to this, gojo.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

you try to smile at him, but it feels more like a grimace. “just that you’re the one sparing with megumi on the weekends.”

satoru frowns. “we’re practicing. you want him to be as weak as every other shikigami user in the world?” he asks, rhetorically.

“i like sparring,” megumi interjects, like it matters.

“maybe a little too much,” you say, under your breath.

satoru grabs your hand from his leg, intertwining his fingers with yours. it would be sweet--a nice connection--if you weren't actively trying to hurt him.

maybe megumi gets it from both of you.

“okay, megumi,” satoru sings. “you can’t hit your classmates, okay? look i fixed it.”

you glare at him. then turn into your driveway.

satoru groans. “why are you both so difficult? megumi, just apologize, and y/n, he made a mistake. he’s not gonna do it again.”

“i’m not talking about this right now,” you tell him, shaking your hand from his, wanting not to be mad at either of them.

but you’re mad at both. they both suck and you love them too much to even yell.

“i’m difficult?” megumi retorts.

satoru groans again and you all get out of the car.

“go get started on your homework,” you tell megumi, after you unlock the door. “we can talk in a bit.”

your voice is naturally softer with him. megumi’s too cute to stay angry at.

satoru doesn’t have that issue.

megumi looks back at you, his eyes inquisitive, his mouth pinched. “you’re mad at me?”

you sigh, hanging the keys on the hook. “no, megs. it’s fine. we just need to talk about it. later.

“you’re mad,” he repeats, all-knowing. seriously, who allowed satoru to raise him?

“i… maybe a little. not really at you. just the situation.”

“i’m sorry.”

you shake your head, hand on your back as you gently nudge him down the hall. “just go hang out for a bit. relax.”

you try not to notice how he rubs his fists, tiny bruises forming on his tiny knuckles.

satoru walks in behind you, bumping into you purposefully. “start writing your opening statement,” he adds, grinning at you both.

you push him away and megumi rolls his eyes.

you walk into the kitchen, thinking about moving megumi to a new school—a new family. they’ll probably do better than you’re doing. at least there he won't have one parent who actively eggs him into violence every day.

you know satoru is following you (because when isn’t he?) but you don’t expect a hand tapping on your arm, and wary blue eyes meeting yours.

dark blue eyes.

“can we talk now?” megumi asks, his voice softer than usual. you can tell he feels bad, but you know that it’s only because you’re upset.

and it’s not even him. you just wish that he had a better response to these things. that he didn’t feel like fixing everything was his responsibility.

you’re not sure where you went wrong, but you know that it was somewhere.

“megumi… i just need to think for a bit. i’m really not mad.” this time you actually smile at him, because even if he’s beating kids up in school, he’s so sweet to all of you. so cautious.

(except for satoru, but he deserves it).

“i’m really sorry. i didn’t mean to get in trouble.”

satoru snorts from behind you. he’s leaning against the wall, watching.

lord knows he wouldn’t be any help—even if he actually was contributing to the conversation.

you swallow, because you really don't want to tell megumi anything. not without running it through satoru first, at least. without considering the consequences.

but he looks very worried, and you don't want to leave him to obsess over this by himself.

“i just don’t understand why…” you shake your head. you’re not going to make any sense of a nine-year-old mind. “you can’t hit people because you’re upset. you know that.”

“they were messing with a girl in class,” he says, frowning. then he looks to satoru, his head tilted. “i thought that’s what you told me? i’m stronger, i can help.”

“uh….” satoru scratches the back of his neck, wincing. he's lucky that he's several feet away from you.

you turn. “what?”

“i—“ he holds his hands up in defense immediately. “i may or may not have mentioned that we, as in all of us, we’re meant to be upstanders, you know. not—“ he clears his throat. clasps his hands together. “bystanders.”

“satoru.” you groan, leaning against the counter. at least it's all coming together.

you need to bug him or something, just to monitor everything he says

satoru continues. “but i meant in public! with curses. not—not children,” he glares at megumi.

probably for ratting him out.

“but you said that if someone was in trouble—“

“can you stop talking?” satoru says to him, shaking his head, lips pouting pathetically. “i didn’t raise a snitch.”

you furrow your brows and megumi crosses his arms.

“satoru, you told him to fight people?”

he winces again, adjusting his glasses. “i meant… bad people.”

“they were bad,” megumi reassures you both because it obviously matters. “they tried to steal her backpack. that’s bad.”

you sigh, shaking your head.

you can't believe that you're still standing here, still contemplating what to say to him.

where did it all go wrong?

“was the backpack cool?” satoru wonders, going to stand right next to you, hand slinging around your shoulder. he ignores it when you try to push him off.

he's probably just trying to be annoying.

megumi frowns. “i don’t know, i didn’t ask her to—“

“stop talking, both of you.”

you ponder running away from all of them and starting a new life. rome is supposed to be nice this time of year, and you’ve been saving up…

but you’d feel bad for leaving tsumiki with the two of them. plus, satoru doesn’t know how to fill out his tax return.

“we’re talking,” satoru says, raising a brow at you. “you like that.” he grins at you like he’s solved world hunger or something.

with his stupid face and stupid mouth. you would move to rome just so you never had to look at him again and feel briefly distracted.

“i need a minute to think.”

the two boys share a look. how you’ve survived three years with them is questionable.

finally, you sigh again, rubbing your temple. “megumi, you know you can’t hit people. why didn’t you get a teacher? violence is never an option.”

satoru frowns. “what about—“

“in the real world,” you correct, glaring at him. “violence is not an option. don’t put your hands on other people. talk to someone.”

megumi kicks his foot against the hardwood. “i didn’t think they’d listen.”

you nudge his chin, getting him to look at you. “then you tell one of us. preferably not satoru. i know—i understand that you want to help, but hurting someone just to protect someone else isn’t any better than bullying, okay?”

“yeah, don’t bully your bullies," satoru waves a finger at him.

you roll your eyes, and megumi looks disheartened—annoyed maybe—but nods eventually.

not that you expect him to agree immediately anyway. megumi has never been fond of talking. even with all of you, he'd rather hug you than ask how your day is.

and it's fine, usually. you don't want to push him.

you also don't want to have to bail him out of jail.

“okay. good. if this ever happens again i'm homeschooling you.”

megumi doesn’t seem to mind this, shrugging at the threat.

you pause, then say, “actually, satoru is homeschooling you.”

the boy frowns.

satoru nudges your side, giving you a skeptical look. “no punishment? he’s just free to go? last time i tried to—“

“you were trying to put megumi in a headlock.”

“he was eating the last mochi! he knew i was saving it.”

you scowl at him. “it’s not even his fault,” you say, looking pointedly at him. then you brighten. “and he has to deal with you every day, that’s punishment enough.”

satoru opens his mouth, holding a hand in the air. then he closes it.

you turn around to see megumi smirking at him.

you roll your eyes. “what do you want to tell tsumiki?”

you'll have to pick her up in an hour or two, and she's going to ask questions. plus, megumi's scratched-up hands are not very discreet.

megumi’s face falls. “um—“

satoru starts laughing beside you, body shaking against yours, and you feel like there’s about to be another fight.

but at least you’re not upset anymore.

megumi says something to satoru--like shut up--but you're not really listening anymore. just looking between the two like they aren't the most important, special things in the world to you.

whatever happens, you think, is satoru's fault.

next part | series masterlist

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galaxygirl8880 · 2 months

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@nerdpoe I saw ur krs doesn't get instant au and i wrote something short for it 👉👈

There are no thoughts running through Raon miru's head as he stared at the rubble in front of him.

At his human. Cale, who is inhaling raspy, short breaths. There is blood pouring out of his mouth. He looks like he is in pain.

How-

What just happened?

They were at camp. Everything was peaceful. Choi hah was sharing stories of his homeland, everyone was telling jokes and laughing and singing songs. There was- an earthquake? The mountain must have been unstable. The prince said there was an abandoned mine nearby that needed to be sealed off because of rising bandit activity. Cale had only accepted because Raon, Ohn and Hong wanted to go on a vacation-

It was supposed to be an easy, fun trip. Then they noticed the shaking and the falling rocks and not even Choi han could have helped without making it worse. He had panicked. He was relaxed and happy and wasn't thinking properly when the Boulders started falling.

Cale stumbles the slightest bit and Raon is the first one to get to him. The dragon lowers him down gently with magic as Ron starts checking his vitals, getting him to breath.

Raon miru is ashamed to say that there was a moment of silence where no one could move. Once Cale is cleared for transport, the dragon gets ready to teleport everyone back home.

It feels like his ears are stuffed with cotton, the only thing in his line of sight being Cale covered in his own blood. Cale does not fall unconscious until he is laid back in bed and a healer is called. But he does not speak. And Raon does not know what to think.

---

The dining hall is dead silent. Cale is sleeping and Jack had been called to keep a close eye on him.

Raon would love to be by his human's side and count the seconds until he woke up again but...

Cale saved them.

(Again.)

And he did it using- well. That's what raon wants to know. And he wants to know so he can ban Cale from using it ever again.

Raon miru would do anything to never hear that sound come from Cale Henituse's throat ever again.

Cale is not one to cry. He is known for his levelheadedness. Even in situations where a normal man would break. Its one of the reasons why he is so dependable, trustworthy, the shield of the roan kingdom. (His human hates that nickname but it doesn't mean it's not true in a way.)

In that moment of weakness, cale opened his mouth, let out the most gutteral scream-

and decimated the entire mountain.

'indescribable. Full of anguish and fury and sorrow.' Is what the people that were with Cale that day agreed on when reporting back to Alberu. A scream that wouldn't belong anywhere but the funeral of your most precious person.

A scream that fuels Raon's drive to be stronger. So that Cale will never be in a situation where using that is the only way out.

Raon hears Choi han make the same promise to himself later that day while at Cal's bedside. While Raon, Ohn, and Hong are trying to distract themselves by drawing together (it's not working). He knows that the other two heard it as well by the determined look they all shared and he knows that they are thinking the same thing.

---

When Cale woke up, (A few people cried. Choi han included.) he was banned from talking by Jack and Ron and Eruhaben and raon and Rosalyn and the kids and-

Cale was not allowed to talk.

Meaning he had to listen to everyone lecture him while being unable to retort. He was given a pen and paper that was mostly filled with apologies and attempting to avoid any questions about the mysterious ability. Cale could only eat soup for the time being because of the internal wounds in his throat. Ron stuck to sweet, room temperature tea for fear of the acidity of his usual blend aggravating his throat more.

Eruhaben and Ron drilled it into his head that he could never use that ability ever again. (Cale privately apologized in his head because he would do so in a heartbeat if necessary. The ancient dragon and assassin pretended as if they didn't also know this.) Hong thinks he heard Ron and Cale have a heart-to-heart. Although it was Ron questioning him and fast responses in the form of writing for Cale.

Alberu did not mention the reports of citizens in the nearby town being scared of the scream that came from the forest. The sadness some felt from the sound. His royal highness feels a bit guilty for being thankful that he did not have to hear Cale's ability.

Rosalyn was quick to create a device so Cale can communicate better, something to play the writing outloud. And if she spent a bit of extra time in Cale's room where she braided his hair, sharing new stories about her siblings when asked, then that's between them.

---

I feel like if roan has a version of sign language then everyone would make the effort to learn it. Even though Cale can still technically speak, no one wants him to strain himself. (Vitality of the heart fixed most of it but they weren't hearing it. He still gets phantom pains sometimes so Cale is quietly grateful for their support.)

#tcf #cale henituse #ron molran #tcf fic #lout of the counts family #lcf #raon miru #lcf choi han #choi han #i fear this does not do your wonderful idea justice but i still really enjoyed writing #trash of the count's family #tcf eruhaben #alberu crossman #tcf rosalyn

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everythingne · 9 months

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marketing ploy - ln4 ch7

Lando recovers. McLaren and Red Bull own up. Olivia and Lando decide the future, and give Oscar a heart attack while doing so. We get our happy ending.

piastri!oc x lando norris, bestfriends brother/fake dating

warnings/notes: hospital visits, mentioned injuries, loopiness from medication, pregnancy/sex jokes, media being bitches, lando going 'guys i gotta keep her' and doing the absolute MOST lmao, this is also TECHNICALLY the last chapter but im gonna write more for olivia and lando most def (also olivia will feature as oscars sister in other fics bc i love her)

prev |

I haven't run in years.

I can feel the burn of the air in my lungs as I force them open, adrenaline making every rib shake as I suck in a breath and force it back out. My shoes slam into the floor of the paddocks, sending jolts up my legs as I whisk my bag over my shoulder and 'just go' as Christian had said. My mind is swimming with a thousand thoughts. What if he was seriously injured? He was able to walk, but he collapsed, was it his legs? Or his ribs? What if it's his back? Or his arms? How long will he be out? Is this a whole-season issue or just a few weeks?

Fuck, I cannot be thinking about this right now.

I sweep the room quickly to make sure I have everything, patting my pockets to check for my phone--which is nestled in the back left pocket of my jeans, before whirling around and out of the room.

Once I'm out of the paddocks and towards the exits, where it opens a bit more, the wind whisks into my skin and bites me as I use one hand to dig through the side pocket to find Lando's car keys. I can't steady my hands, even when I'm trying to control their shake, they just get worse. Whether it's fear or anxiety, I find it plain annoying as I struggle to get the small keychain out of my bag. Lando had driven me here from the hotel and shoved the keys in my bag since he didn't walk in with his bag and didn't want to lose the car keys.

Luckily, he had, because talking to anyone in this state would be a bust. I could feel my attitude snipping at my heart as people shouted my name at me. I couldn't stop. I had to find Lando. I knew what hospital he'd be taken to, I had to get there in one piece.

And it was going to be hard with the fucking media right here.

A few reporters try to follow me, but I'm able to slip through the crowds like water. Once I make it to the parking lot, a woman steps in front of me with her camera held high and I shout.

"Can you fucking move?!" And shove her to the side as I zip out of the lot. Fuck the standards, fucking being polite, I'll ask for forgiveness later. And apologize, probably.

Throwing my bag haphazardly into the car, I follow suit and slam the door. There's time here for me to scream, cry, and rage in semi-private, but I bite back the bubble in my throat, throwing my seatbelt on and turning on the car's engine. I wait no time to slam the car forward into first gear, pulling out of the lot with shaking hands. My hands slip with sweat as I try when I remember his McLaren's manual. Cursing, I force myself to revert back to the car I drove in high school as my hands dance across the car in perfected practice.

Thank god I still have that going for me.

The highway is empty, where I thought there'd be lines of traffic there are only a few sparse cars. I slam the car as hard as it can go, watching the ticking of the speedometer, 50... 60... 70... 80...

I look behind me, merging into the fast lane and gunning it even harder. The car sings, and I feel an odd rush of momentary euphoria.

I hit around 165kpm at some point. The car doesn't even shake, it seemingly glides along with my movements, I hear sirens, I don't know if they're for me but I'm not staying to find out. I press harder, merging to the off-ramp and taking it, barely registering what's around me as I slam on my brakes and slip into the traffic near the hospital.

It feels good to drive like that. Maybe I should get back into racing at some point.

Once the McLaren is parked in a back corner of the hospital lot, I grab my bag, rip myself out of the car, and slam it shut, and triple-check it's locked. I turn and book it into the hospital, trying to breathe steady enough to keep myself from losing my shit. It feels like I can't run fast enough, slipping into the hospital and around people who dodge my clearly rushed pace. I pause in front of a desk, panicked and out of breath when someone comes to my side.

"Hi, honey, who are you lookin' for?" A kind nurse says, her hand finding my arm to apply soothing pressure as she notices the fear in my movements. I thought I was hiding it better than I was, I guess. I take a slow breath and let the shake in my hands come in, no longer holding everything back.

"Lando Norris, he just came in with Formula One?" I ask and the woman nods. She asks to see my ID and I fish out my license and Red Bull card to verify my employment.

"Olivia!" A voice shouts as my items are handed back when I'm cleared, and Jon comes up to my side, pointing at my head.

"You still have your headset on." He says softly and I look him up and down, pointing at him.

"So do you," I say. We pause and fall into soft laughter as I pull the headset down to my neck. Jon takes me by the elbow further into the hospital, out of the view of some of the reporters who try to snap photos of us as they're shoved out by the security. I hadn't even seen them when I made my way inside. Through the winding halls, and down to a smaller section of the hospital, Jon brings me to the door to what I assume is Lando's room.

"He's fine." Jon starts with, which eases me immediately, "He's a bit banged up, they think he might have broken or bruised one of his ribs. He's really out of it, the painkillers made him super loopy. Just a forewarning, he's also been dipping in and out of consciousness so don't be alarmed. It's just the painkillers."

"Is his family here yet?" I ask, looking at the door, and Jon shakes his head no once I look back at him.

"They're driving at normal speeds, so no. I don't wanna know how you got here so fast." He steps forward and knocks. A nurse pops open the door and welcomes us inside, Jon stays back while I make my way to the bedside. Lando's wearing a tee shirt and some loose sports shorts, he looks exhausted. I can see bruising on his legs as I nurse tosses the blanket over him as if trying to hide it from me.

"Here!" She pulls up a chair happily and I thank her as I sit down on it, taking my bag off and setting it on the floor, dropping my headphones in. I sigh, taking Lando's hand and feeling his pulse as if the machine that literally tells me that is lying. It feels good to feel his heart thrum under my skin and I kiss his wrist where the pulsepoint is.

"My girlfrien's not g'nna like you doin' that." Lando tries to take his hand from me, Jon snorting in the doorway. I let go of him and laughed softly, leaning up to brush his hair back from his face, the longer curls sticking to his forehead. He's still got the lines from his helmet and balaclava, and I trace one with my finger as he gives me the nastiest stink eye I've ever seen him muster.

"Hi, Lando." I croon, and he whines, slowly rolling his head to the side.

"I have a girlfriend." He states, poking my hand to push it away from him and I send him an odd look. Jon walks over and I can see he's recording, which makes a small amused smile poke at my lips.

"Lando," I laugh softly and Lando whacks my hands away softly, fighting through the weariness of his pain medication to wave his arms.

"I have a girlfriend." He pouts, laying his hands still at his side. I just laugh again, and Lando shouts in his dreary state, "It's not funny! I do!"

"Shush, shh, Lando." I stand and push my chair back a bit as I stifle my laugh into the back of my hand.

Jon calls from where he stands, attempting to help me not laugh by giving me something new to focus on, "Who's your girlfriend, Lando?"

"Olivia. Oscar's sister, which he was actually not happy about at first but I convinced him I was cool--" Lando keeps rambling on until I lift my hand and cup his cheek, running my thumb under his eye as I speak softly.

"Lando, baby, I am your girlfriend." I put a hand on my chest, "I am Olivia."

Lando blinks, eyes settling on me before he gasps and leans up to grab my face and pull me down for a litter of soft pecks to my cheeks and face. I catch myself on the bed and laugh, catching his lips as he happily grins up at me. It's all doe eyes, lovesick smiles on his lips as he keeps his hands tight on my face.

"Hi, baby." He whispers, bringing me in for another kiss and I detach one of his hands so it can rest by his side. I slowly situate him against the blankets with the help of Jon, and sit a bit closer to the head of the bed so Lando can be close enough to me. He keeps one of his hands in mine and I slowly run my thumb along his knuckles.

"Well, Mr. Norris!" A piercing voice calls, a young woman stepping into the room with a bit of an excited flourish, "You are all set! Jon's gonna look over your scans, specifically for those bruised ribs. We're thinking it'll be about three or four weeks of healing, and he's gonna make that like--workout plan and stuff with your personal doctor."

"Ah, thank you, Doctor." Lando smiles, watching as the doctor hands Jon some papers to look over. She smiles at me, a hint of recognition in her eyes.

"Olivia, right?" She asks and I nod, shaking her outstretched hand.

"I'm glad you made it here, Lando was waiting for you a bit impatiently." She kept her happy smile, rocking from foot to foot, "Kept asking us where you were, or when you'd get here. You've got a good man on your hands here, sweetheart."

"I know." My heart is bursting, "He's shown me that over and over."

11 JULY, ENGLAND. ↴

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Thank you once again to @ oliviapiastri for taking care of our #4 and providing the team with love and some pics while he was recovering! Lando is at home now, and our official statement on the accident and other situations this season has been posted on our website.

View the story: McLaren.uk/formula1/landoolivia...

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mclaren.uk...

OFFICIAL STATEMENT ON SITUATIONS BETWEEN LANDO NORRIS AND OLIVIA PIASTRI THIS SEASON.

WRITTEN BY STEVE ATKINS (M), ON BEHALF OF ZAK BROWN (M), ANDREA STELLA (M), ALICE MCLOUGHLIN (ORBR), ASTRID MARINA (UNAFF.), ADA LUANNE (UNAFF.), CHRISTIAN HORNER (OBRB), AND HIMSELF.

On the 22nd of February this year, Lando Norris (MCLAREN F1 TEAM, DRIVER) and Olivia Piastri (ORACLE RED BULL, HEAD OF ANALYSIS) were pulled into the office of Christian Horner (ORACLE RED BULL, TEAM PRINCIPAL) in Bahrain. A deal was struck between both parties and their corresponding teams to create a fake dating scenario, capitalizing on the tensions between Oracle Red Bull Racing and the McLaren F1 Team to push ticket and merchandising sales. This fake relationship was planned to eventually leak in PR and Social Media Strategy, however, due to Norris' crash in Silverstone, the entire program has been canceled. The program was also discovered by F1 Stewards upon investigation after Olivia's reaction to the accident cemented rumors in the media of the two dating. Both the McLaren F1 Team and Oracle Red Bull are under investigation, and fines are yet to be announced.

Norris and Piastri chose not to be a part of this statement and can be expected to make their own statements in the coming weeks.

On July 9th of this year, Lando Norris was involved in an accident in the pitlane of Silverstone. Engineers have determined this was caused by an overheating of brake lines that didn't allow Norris to stop his vehicle along with worn tires. No fines have been placed at this moment.

Olivia Piastri will return to work with Red Bull remotely immediately and will be in-person by Zandvoort. Lando Norris will return to racing with McLaren by Zandvoort and will be replaced by reserve driver Bianca Bustamente for the time being. Neither Norris nor Piastri will be fined for involvement with the media stunt, or with the accident as of this moment.

20 JULY, LONDON ↴

There’s a sort of haze around me as I blink sleep from my eyes. A warm pressure on my left makes me look to the side. Lando’s face is squished against my chest, soft snores leaving his slightly parted lips and rolling across my bare skin that pokes out from under my tank top. I take a moment to take it all in, how we’d gotten here, how we were, and I can’t help but roll to pull him closer to me and curl him inside my arms as I pepper a few kisses to his hairline.

How did I ever not like him? He's a fucking saint.

Lando, a heavy sleeper until I started sleeping in the same bed, noticed immediately and grabbed my waist with groggy whines about how tired he was. I coax him back to sleep, kissing his hairline and gently massaging his back until the snores return and I smile at Lando’s sleeping face.

“Awake yet?” Oscar calls from the door, and I wave. He laughs under his breath, waving me over, and it takes a bit of grace to detach myself from Lando. Once I do, I grab one of the spare throw blankets off the floor from where Lando had kicked it and slip over to where Oscar is standing by the door as I wrap it around me to keep out the morning chill.

“He’s exhausted. I think all the stress of the season is catching up on him.” I rub sleep from my face, and Oscar nods, handing me a piece of toast like a peace offering. I take it and tilt my head at him.

“They’re fining McLaren and Red Bull a lot for this stunt. It just came out.” Oscar hums, “said it’s a breach of contract and a risk for documents to be shared amongst the teams…”

My heart jumps to my throat, and I look at Lando’s sleeping form as he rolls into where my fading body heat is still in the blankets, “they want us to split?”

“Well. Lando’s contract ends with McLaren this year.” Oscar paused to take a sip of his coffee before leaning in to whisper, “and you didn’t hear it from me, but Christian has been looking at grabbing him for a few years now.”

“Is Checo moving?” I ask because I know Max wouldn’t leave Red Bull unless we forced him out by dragging him by his ankles.

“I dunno.” Oscar grins, stepping back and whacking my shoulder, “but you can date within your garage, so.”

With that, he walks away and I turn back to Lando as he starts to stir. I lean on the doorframe and watch as he blearily blinks his eyes open, hands searching for me in the covers until he lifts his head to see me off in the doorway.

“C’mere.” he croaks, and I smile, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to sit on the edge of the bed as he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my thighs.

I can’t imagine him in navy. But it might look good on him.

25TH JULY, LONDON ↴

“is Max positive?” Lando pokes his head into the kitchen doorway, looking at the island where I’m staring at my laptop. I look up and shrug, sending an email back to Christian about the fines and the media being on his ass for the whole stunt.

“Kylie said it’ll be here in five minutes,” I reply, refreshing my email as if that will make the minutes suddenly not matter and for the email to pop up. Apparently, Max had gotten sick right before the next race. While I was home with Lando to make sure he wasn’t being strenuous and to keep media off my back until everything died down, they had to do a COVID test on Max and isolate him just in case.

“It would suck if he's out for his home race this year." Lando wanders into the kitchen and pulls up a stool next to me as he sets his phone down on the counter. He’s been living in Oscar and my apartment for the past few days, just until next week when he goes back to McLaren's training center for a bit to do a lot of physical therapy before getting in the car next weekend for Zandvoort.

Oscar calls my phone, and I stand up, telling Lando to keep checking my email as I make my way over to the other side of the kitchen to grab my phone.

“Yes, bitch?” I say into the phone and Oscar laughs at my sharp tone.

“Just checking in on Lando for Zak,” Oscar says and I look behind me and my boyfriend—like, actual boyfriend now, and smile.

“He’s been fine, ribs are still a little sore. I had him doing cardio earlier and he was faring pretty well so I—I think Jon said he can go back to training a bit earlier. He’s still coming back in Zandvoort though.” I hum, “how’s Bia faring?”

“She’s having the time of her life. I gotta start bringing her around more. You guys really would be an unstoppable duo.” Oscar laughs, “But good, Jon is off today so I’ll let Zak know to reach out to him and ask.”

“Ollie!” Lando whines and I turn.

“Yess?” I draw out as I walk to his side.

“It's negative.”

“Oh, thank fucking god.” I breathe, “That makes everything a lot easier for me.”

Oscar is quiet on the line for a few moments before asking in a small voice, “What’s negative?”

“Max’s COVID test. He’s just got the flu.” I say without thinking much of my brother's hesitance before he lets out a soft laugh.

“I thought you took a pregnancy test or something, I was about to start judging the type of cardio you’ve been doing,” Oscar says and I shout,

“Dude!”

“I feel like that’s a reasonable thing to be worried about!”

“Oh my god, we’ve only been actually dating dating for like two weeks!” I groan and Lando sends me a confused look, so I pop Oscar onto speakerphone.

“It only takes like—five minutes to make a kid!”

“Hello?!” Lando shouts and I sink to the floor in a fit of laughter, trying to bite back the volume of my laughter before Lando shouts, "Do you think I fucked your sister?!"

"No! Stop! Stop talking Lando!" Oscar shouts over the phone and now I'm hysterical on the floor in tears as Lando tries to backtrack and Oscar keeps shouting for him to just-- "Shut the fuck up, Lando!"

"Both are you are going to kill me, I'm losing it." I wheeze from where I'm now lying on the floor, Lando laughing alongside me as Oscar groans.

"First the house, now this?" He says and Lando makes some noise in the back of his throat as I manage to calm myself down enough to stand.

"What about a house?" I wipe under my eyes, leaning my head on Lando's shoulder as his arm wraps around my shoulder and he kisses my head, his fingers poking at my side and making me squirm as I push him away with a laugh.

"Nothing, love." Lando sighs, "Remember when they gave me those painkillers that made me super loopy the first night, and Oscar was watching over me?"

I nod, remembering how halfway through my grocery trip he had to call me because Lando was so loopy he thought that I was gone forever. And he had literally cried tears of joy when I answered Oscar's phone call.

"Well, I kinda... oh my god this is so embarrassing." Lando sighs and Oscar tells him he now has to tell the story and Lando hides his face in my hair as he recounts, "I was looking at apartments in London for us."

"Stop, oh my god." I whine, turning to Lando so I can kiss his cheeks and his forehead, pulling him down when he tries to move back so I can't, "That's so cute."

"No, it's embarrassing." He grumbles and I laugh, pulling him closer and kissing along his jaw and then the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

"I wouldn't mind that," I murmur to him and his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, his hands find my waist and he presses a kiss to my lips.

"Ew, I don't like that I can hear him kiss you over the phone." Oscar groans, "I'm hanging up now, don't do anything too strenuous."

"Fuck you, Oscar!" I laugh as the call hangs up, Lando keeping his arms firmly around my waist. We sit in silence for a few moments before his hand ghosts up the side of my neck to take my jaw in his palm, thumb hooking on my chin to pull me down to look at him.

"Would you seriously not mind?" He asks softly and I grin, leaning over to pop a quick kiss on his lips.

"Getting to have you with me every day?" I bring our foreheads together, his curls against my own as his hands find my waist to hold, my hands resting on his shoulders as I grin and flutter my eyes closed, "That's paradise."

"I'll literally buy one right now, don't even test me." He groans, pulling me closer and I laugh.

"Let's get Zandvoort out of the way first, yeah?"

JULY 28TH, TWITTER ↴

AUGUST 27TH, THE NETHERLANDS ↴

Luckily for me, I made it into the paddocks long before any media people. Max welcomes me with a slap on the back as I welcome him to his home race, and then I'm greeted by the Ferrari drivers once again as Checo laughs at my bewildered expression.

"I'm gonna tell the Tifosi on you both." I huff, but let both Charles and Carlos wrap me in tight hugs of congratulations as we laugh. Once the two are carted off to go do their actual jobs, I get settled in my chair and glance down at my desk before laughing.

A vase of freshly cut flowers and a little cup of coffee sits there, waiting for me, and I turn to look at Max who just grins.

"He's determined." Is all Max says before slipping away as he's called over to get dressed. I laugh and send Lando a quick thank you message, before taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee and settling down to finally get back into gear.

"Welcome back," A voice chimes and I glance up to see Christian in the doorway. I offer him a small smile and a nod.

"Good to be here." Is all I say in reply.

Lando and Max seriously just want to kill each other in these cars. Max takes the win at his home race by some insignificantly small number, they had to literally watch multiple playbacks to see who crossed first, which means Lando is still in good running for World Champion. Luckily, somehow a mix of car issues and the pure energy from Oscar, Charles, Checo, and Carlos managed to keep Max in P2 for most races, leveling out the chances for Lando to recover his lost points.

As soon as most drivers have returned to their paddocks, I'm mid-packing up when I'm ushered off by Logan, who finished P6. He quite literally hoists me off my feet and carries me into the crowd for the podium. A few other drivers lag back, and I look over to Oscar, who'd finished P4 behind Charles.

"Where's Lando?!" Logan shouts over my head at Oscar, who points, and then leans over to me.

"Here's that kiss they promised you'd have to do," He shouts in my ear and I laugh as the two lift me so I can be partially over the barrier holding back the audience from the racers. I wave Lando down and he laughs, slipping away from a reporter as he finishes an interview. Biting off his glove as he walks over, he drops it into his helmet and then grabs my jaw with that now gloveless hand, pulling me into his lips for a quick peck. I don't let him leave though, grabbing his jaw and pulling him back in for a few more deeper kisses.

Oscar cheers and Logan laughs before Lando secures one arm around me to pull me over the barrier. Logan and Oscar immediately hop over after me.

There's warmth in my chest as Lando keeps his hand on my lower back, pulling me through the crowd of drivers and up to where Max and Charles stand. A giddy excitement thrums across my skin.

I could do this forever.

SEPTEMBER 3RD, INSTAGRAM ↴

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oliviapiastri: 6 months <3

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landonorris: i LOVE YOU OLIVIA<333

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a-confused-spoon · 10 days

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Jinx's haircut: how Powder and Ekko's story comes full circle

Hi! So, it appears Jinx will be cutting her hair short in season 2 (which is cool as fuck), and I’ve been seeing a lot of discussion on it, so I wanted to share my two cents 😊

I might refer to Jinx and Powder as if they are different ideantities, but I'm aware that's not how that works; it's just an easier way to express myself. Also english isn't my first language, so apologies for any possible wiritng mistake (this is a bit of a mess 😅)

* deep breath in *

As it has already been pointed out, this choice must have a deeper reason other than esthetic (I've been seeing the phrase "hair holds memories" used a lot), and what's even more interesting is that her new look resembles a lot how she used to look like as a kid; a bit bizarre, given how the entirety of season 1 showed us how Powder and Jinx's coexistence only brings the girl pain. As a matter of fact, the finale makes it clear to us that even she sees these two sides of herself as mutually exclusive.

So why and how exactly would this happen now?

What I keep going back to is the idea that maybe, just maybe, this has to do with her possibly "taking the lead" in Zaun; whether she actively becomes a leader or if she just "leads by example" (therefore passively), it doesn't change the fact that for better or worse she will be depicted as a leading revolutionary figure.

And fair enough: she singlehandedly killed half of the Council, the people who hold decisional power and have contributed to the misery on the other side of the river. After Vender's failed attempt on the bridge and Silco's focus on his own business dealings with Piltover among everything else he did, Jinx's attack on the city - something she does to ultimately solidify her identity as Jinx - opens a door that the Undercity was waiting to be opened for decades.

Here's the thing:

Being Jinx doesn't just mean acting on unbridled rage and being a menace to society; it means being feared by most, if not all, with the only possible exceptions being those who also accepted their inner monster. To put it in Singed's words, "If you take this path, they will despise you".

Being Jinx fundamentally implies loneliness.

Silco was consistently reminding her this: "I am your family; everyone else betrays us" / "Everyone betrays us Jinx! Vander! Her! They will never understand, it's only us".

In the official clip 'Enemy of my enemy' we find out that he only saw her cry twice, the two scenes we also witness as an audience, meaning he didn't see her cry once during the timeskip, and I'm sure it's safe to say that she most definitely did cry a lot given how she goes from episode 3 Powder (scared, couldn't grasp the concept of killing someone, heartbroken by the nickname jinx) to episode 4 Powder (a beast, kills in cold blood, has taken Jinx as her actual name)... it must've been an ugly transition, and it definitely didn't happen overnight; if Silco, who was the closest person she had all that time, didn't see it, then I think it speaks a lot on how alone Jinx really was in her darkest times.

For all the love he had for her, he reinforced this idea of isolation as an unescapable consequence of the right path, and I think this is also reflected in the lair that (supposedly) he found for her, especially when you compare it to the Firelights’ one:

The Firelights (this is important for later) are all about community and sharing joy as well as struggle and pain; they live in a place of healing, filled with life, without a roof so the sunlight can reach them during the day, and at nights living bugs that shine a light of their own fill up the hideout.

Jinx's place is diametrically opposed to this: it’s dark and looks cold, it's completely made of metal, the roof’s blocking any natural light and it hangs above an abyss with no bottom to be seen; the only company she consistently has are the puppets of her dead brothers and the only living thing that knows his way in is the only one that can understand, the only one she can rely on - aka Silco himself.

However, as Jinx herself knows, this may have worked for him, but it wasn't working for her for the longest time: she never stopped yearning for affection, love, friendship- that part of her never really went away; it was only being suppressed, suffocated, maybe unintentionally, and I strongly believe that it only worsen her trauma, and it's one of the things that made her spiral so bad into her depression, to the point of hallucinating.

I think that Silco's line in the baptism scene is particularly relevant here: "You need to let Powder die, so the fear of pain will no longer control you", where the fear of pain would refer to the fear of being on her own, of always failing and disappointing others, of being weak and never satisfying the desires, expectations, hopes that Powder carried within her to be “a valuable member of the team”.

If she lets Powder die (which again, she does in the final episode of season 1), this is no longer a problem: if she doesn't do teams, because teams don't want a jinx to begin with, that fear can't get to her; if she's a solo player, a self-sufficient loose cannon, she won't need to rely on anyone but herself because she's strong on her own and does not need the support of others.

If her power lays in the monster she is, the one everyone condemns her for being, then that childhood wish of hers just isn't a realistic option.

...but then this happens.

We know from the teaser trailer that in the operation Caitlyn's leading, 'finding Jinx' and 'neutralize any agent still loyal to Silco' are separate objectives. Which makes sense, since as far as they know Silco was the leader of a group of people, and now that he's gone Jinx is an individual under her own agency and her own agency alone. If initially she fights by herself, for herself because she can and fuck Piltover, then it all falls in line with what I stated so far.

But then we hear Sevika, who has hated Jinx's guts and who Jinx has hated back since day one, telling her to get the people together, to unite the Undercity as one because she can do that. Mind you, the girl has lived in Zaun all her life, she knows damn well that the end of Piltover is something the entire Undercity has been waiting for (“Imagine what the whole of the Lances could do!” from episode 2); yet despite this she needs to be openly told what is going on, that she’s not sizing the opportunity she’s created. She isn't, cause... her? Leading? A group of people? No. Not after the last time she tried to help, and most importantly, not after everything she learned under Silco.

Jinx can't fathom the idea of herself as a part of a part of a team. How can she? She literally just came to terms with isolation as ever present- and now, for some reason, the people of the city, who always either ran away from her or wanted her gone, are dying their hair blue in her image, trusting her, following her, painting murals of her as the bringer of revolution.

She isn't taking power forcibly like Silco did; she's just doing her thing, her Jinx thing, and Zaun, on its own, is choosing her as the leading figure.

Imagine how frustrating it must be for Jinx to look back and realize that Silco, her father- who has loved her, forgiven her, raised her, called her perfect, defended her, was there for her, saved her, guided her- was wrong, and put her in a condition of never ending existential pain when she could’ve had it differently the entire time; imagine how confusing it must be for her to look back and realize that it never mattered whether or not others understood her, 'cause she wasn't as unlovable or unforgivable as she thought herself to be in the first place, that Silco and Vi were never her only options.

Imagine how painful it must be for her to look back and realize that for all this time she could’ve had friends and be accepted and be trusted and rely on others because she never HAD to be alone.

...keeping this in mind, let's talk about Ekko and the missing flashback from episode 7 for a moment.

Admittedly we don’t have a lot of information, other than it took place not too long after the events of episode 3 (then again, to be fair, we don’t know a lot about their relationship as enemies as well: it’s all between the lines; I surely have my own opinions of how they feel about each other being on the enemy side, but I don’t believe it’s super relevant here). What’s for sure about this flashback is that it was a defining moment in both Ekko and Powder’s journey, especially for the latter. Someone surely died, and it 100% was Powder’s fault. It could be both the result of her very first crisis or her first intentional murder; in both cases it results in her deciding for herself to align with Silco as opposed to her best friend.

The way I like to see it is that, since the trauma was still very fresh, she might have been too scared of the idea of fighting alongside others after what happened last time, and she pushed herself to kill someone on purpose just to push Ekko away and prove a point (Silco’s point). I love the idea of the tragic irony of Ekko being the one person Powder managed to really save, and Powder being the one person Ekko couldn’t.

Personal headcanons aside though, the last part is the most important one here: Ekko couldn’t save Powder from Silco, and by extension everything he represents.

I’d like to point out that one of the most tragic aspects of the two becoming enemies (to me) is that, throughout those years, they reciprocally were the only living person the other shared a past with (well, Vi too, but she was in prison the entire time).

Silco not only takes over by force, he also marks as his all the places of said past: the Last Drop, Vi and Powder’s house… one line that always stuck with me from episode 7 is when Ekko tells Vi “All that’s left is Jinx, and she belongs to Silco”.

Not with Silco; to Silco. As if she too a piece of the past he turned into his property.

It’s like he understands that while yes, Powder made the decision by herself, that she wants to stay with Silco, he also knows that the man is the one to blame for... well, all of it; the kid was there when Silco showed up unprovoked at Benzo’s place, he knows things went downhill from there.

Ekko knows that he is the bigger problem and the bigger enemy. Even Vi, without knowing a thing about the past few years, can tell Silco put some shit into her sister’s head; Ekko can probably guess the same, difference being that Ekko has the responsibility of keeping other people safe, and he can’t risk it all for someone that, while possibly manipulated, ultimately isn’t collaborative. Ekko can’t jeopardize all he’s built and done for his former best friend, no matter how much it hurts him to be her enemy.

Back to season 2.

Like the entire fandom has already pointed out, there’s a 99.9% chance there will be an alliance between them and Jinx, especially when looking at Ekko’s new outfit.

Of course, this will not be immediate: my guess is that while Jinx works alone at the very start Ekko will be with Heimerdinger and following the arrest of the Firelights we see in the trailer maybe there’s a split. And even after Jinx takes charge so to speak, and possibly frees them, among others, from Stillwater, it’s possible there will be (and there should be) stages in the alliance: initial distrust, potential fight within the community- like yeah, let’s not forget what Jinx did to these people.

Even if they do go ahead with it, it is probably out of necessity more than anything else, with not one but two military forces against the whole of the Underground. It’s not like they’d be the most ecstatic faction about it, and the same goes for Ekko, which is why the new look will probably come in later.

But exactly like he could see Powder for a brief second on the bridge clearly enough for him to stop himself from beating her, he will, most definitely, see her again through Jinx's inner turmoil... that, and she also can’t keep her shit together when it comes to what she's feeling, the girl really is an open book.

And yeah, the situation would be pretty emotionally disorienting: she's being as Jinx as ever, but people like her now, which is something she used to want as Powder, who is supposed to be dead, and they're willingly following her like they willingly followed Vander and there's murals of her with him, though she's pursuing what aligns more with Silco's dream, but also turns out Silco was wrong about Powder, who might still be alive deep down- the whole thing is a big big mess.

Despite everything that I said about him, it’s not like Jinx would start to resent Silco. She could never, not after his last words to her. They mean the world to her, he means too much to her, and let’s not forget she probably hear his voice now too, along Mylo’s and Claggor’s; it might even be a calming voice to her, one she’s happy to hear even if she knows he’s not real… which makes it all worse and more painful to deal with.

In this scene from the trailer, it seems like Ekko’s talking to her (some have pointed out the blue hair out of focus). Since this is still the look in season, at this point in time Ekko (and the rest of the Firelights) are not truly committed to this alliance with Jinx, and vice versa, Jinx is still figuring out how to deal with all this unexpected appreciation.

If there’s one thing we’ve learned about Jinx’s way of dealing with inner conflicts, especially ones that deal with the memories of the past, is that it often leads to disaster. This is a bit of a long shot, but what if the reason Ekko’s so beat up Is because she unintentionally sabotaged one of their own attacks on Piltover? Or perhaps they were caught up in a tough situation because of something she did or didn’t do? My point is that if he really is talking with her while in this condition, she probably is in a similar one.

Regardless, they are on the same side, and they are having a conversation. This is very likely the first time they reach out for each other since the day she chose to not go with him.

And I think it’s believable that of all the people she now has beside her, she’d talk to Ekko: he has this leader stuff already figured out. He has and still is taking care of people and keeping them safe better than she ever will, and on top of that, he still is the only one in Zaun (again, aside from Vi) who has known her since before she was Jinx, and he spared her on the bridge. He’s the perfect person to open up to.

And, get this, not only Ekko understands the pressure of taking the lead: he knows what it means to look back at someone you were fond of and feeling the pain of being wronged by them. He knows what it’s like to look back at old memories of someone you trusted and wonder if all those moments together really were what you thought they were, he knows what it’s like to wish it could all go back like it was, just so that candid version of them you have in your mind can still be true, present and untainted by the ugliness that now ruins all those precious moments.

He knows, 'cause he went through it with her... and now he can finally reach her.

Ekko may have not been able to save her from Silco then, but he can save her from Silco now.

And since he has built a community that grieved together, went through pain and joy together, he simply does what he’s always done with the Firelights. Sharing.

He tells with her what has worked for him: “Sometimes, taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind”- in the Franch dub he says “leaving a part of oneself behind”- meaning it doesn’t have to be all or nothing: she has the power to choose what to kiss goodbye and what can stay…

…and then she cuts her hair.

I think it’s important to note how these two moments are very similar in setting. I kid you not, the first time I watched the trailer I was convinced this was a scene where Jinx was burning Silco’s body after she killed him- which frankly could still be the case. I’ve also seen discussions being made for the little girl we see in the trailer being burned here, or Sevika, but I don’t think it’s either. Jinx is completely desensitized to death, even when Silco died her makeup isn’t this ruined. My guess is that this is something much deeper:

Jinx never properly grieved the past. Ever. So, maybe, she’s burning the part of herself she’s leaving behind. The hair she cut.

The hair Silco used to braid for her.

These two scenes parallel each other because “nothing ever stays dead”, but Silco must stay dead, for her own sake. For her own happiness: she is leaving him behind for good.

Only after this moment we get the new look for Ekko: he can work with this new Jinx, the one that now knows she can work within a team, even to the point of committing to the outfit (lol).

If in season 1 Jinx accepted her identity as it was defined by Silco, in season 2 she's re-inventing it under her own conditions: she gets to choose what "being Jinx" may or may not include. And it will always include a little bit of Powder.

Thanks for reading! 💚💙

#or I could be completely wrong #and someone just cuts it #but still #it was fun to write this #arcane theory #except not really #arcane #arcane season 2 #jinx arcane #ekko arcane #arcane silco #powder #timebomb #i ship it #but this also works platonically

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poppy-metal · 30 days

Note

it’s your birthday and you weren’t expecting your husband to do anything for you. he usually forgets and then buys you an expensive present weeks later, out of guilt, but tonight, he promised to take you out for dinner. after getting your makeup done professionally and dressing to the nines in a tight black dress and sleek black louboutins you head to the restaurant he told you to meet him at. after waiting for hours, you decide to go home where you find him pumping into a gorgeous woman, who you later on find out, is his secretary. you silently head to your walk in closet, pack your bags, and head to your range rover in the garage. with tears streaming down your cheeks, you call patrick after settling in a suite at a nearby five star hotel. wall street patrick immediately cancels his dinner meeting with a major potential client and speeds down the highway.

after arriving at the hotel, he finds your bare faced with your glasses on, wearing a silk nightgown and some fuzzy slippers. for a moment he’s taken aback. you always look so high maintenance and put together but to him this is the most beautiful you have ever looked – puffy eyes, pouty lips, wet lashes and all. you look up at him and beg him to hold you. he rushes to the couch you are seated on and lets you cry on his armani suit. he doesn’t care that you’re getting tears and snot on it. seeing you so comfortable and vulnerable around him makes his dick painfully hard. all he cares about is being there for you and probably ordering a hit on your soon to be ex husband tbh.

after you fall asleep on his chest he gently carries you to the bedroom, kissing your temple before tucking you in to sleep. you awaken from your short nap and ask him to sleep with you, it’s been so long since someone slept next to you, and he almost cums in his pants, the thought of you asking him to sleep with you consumes his mind, but after taking off his suit and washing up, he lays in bed with his undershirt and his boxers. he apologizes for not having any clothes with him because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or scare you off but you jokingly reply “usually i sleep naked…you’re fine”. being in his boxers, it gets harder for him to hide his thick bulge.

it’s 2am in the morning and patrick startles awake. you’re talking in your sleep and he’s worried. you’re having a nightmare…or so he thinks. you’re whimpering and moaning and he thinks it’s so hot. poor baby hasn’t been fucked right in so long, the only action she gets is in her dreams. he giggles a little until he hears you moan his name. to him, it sounds like a choir of angels singing the most divine melody to ever exist. he ends up rushing to the bathroom and spitting into his hand to take care of his problem.

you wake up to shlick shlick sounds and groaning in the bathroom. could patrick be touching himself? he forgot to close the door all the way and you could peep into the bathroom through the crack. you probably shouldn’t, it would make you a bad friend, but ever since the first day you saw him, a part of you has wanted to sit on his cock and fuck yourself through an orgasm. you slowly walk towards the door and see him in the shower, sniffing the used panties you left in the bathroom while furiously stroking his giant veiny cock. it looks so scary with its angry red tip but your mouth starts watering. you rush back to bed feeling guilty for overstepping boundaries and for wanting to gag on your friend’s dick while rubbing your clit. patrick on the other hand, being a calculating master manipulator left the door open to make sure you would hear him and see him, hoping that he would have the same effect on you, that you have on him.

- alien anon

so I need to touch myself .

#ask #👽 anon #WATCHING HIM JERK OFFF BARK BARK BAKR

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dreamingofep · 2 months

Text

Forbidden Love pt. 2 💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, TENSION, kissing, grinding, fingering

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Hello everyone! I had originally wrote all of this part out a few months ago because this is where the idea sprang from! There’s so much more to uncover and this part definitely needs to be in Elvis’ perspective later on so be on the lookout for that. 🤭

Here are the songs I included in this part too! Listen if you haven’t heard “I’ll Never Let You Go (Little Darlin’)” It’s so sweet and I just pictured Elvis singing this soft and low on the piano. 🥹

If you'd like to read any of my other fics, start here or Ao3!

Hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

September 21, 1958

Your heart was heavy as you walked up the driveway. The house was illuminated by the lawn lights and the hum of people inside grew the closer you got to it. Graceland was always so beautiful, especially at night. The large Corinthian columns were so stunning and made the whole house stand out. It was made for Elvis you thought. No ordinary man could live here. It had to be someone as grand and special as Elvis Presley was.

You walk up the steps to the front door and take a deep breath. Emotions were flowing through you today. You were going to say goodbye to one of your favorite people. Elvis was always there for you, in good times and bad, he would always listen. He was supposed to be gone for two years in the army. It couldn’t have been a worse time to be drafted. He was at the top of all the charts and his career was just taking off. You two had gotten close the last two years or so. You think it was a way to ground Elvis and keep him connected with the real world. You both loved to hang out with each other's family and have barbecues together.

Now all of that was going to change. He was leaving and you knew you’d be a wreck without him. You don’t have a lot of friends as it is. But Elvis was special. There was no replacing him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry at this party. Elvis wanted everyone to have a good time and not think of it as his goodbye party. You took a deep breath before you decided to go in the house. You smoothed out your pale pink dress and opened the front door.

The entire house was lively and some of the people that were standing by the stairs greeted you. Your eyes frantically search for Elvis. You wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before he left. Walking to the kitchen, you set down the bottle of champagne you brought. One of Elvis's housekeepers hugs you and tells you she’ll open the bottle for you. Someone hands you a flute already filled with champagne and you graciously take it.

The bubbly drink danced on your tongue and went down smoothly. You squeeze your way through the sea of people and continue to search for Elvis. There had to be over fifty people crammed into the first floor of the house. You accidentally bump into a taller man and apologize for that. You decide to ask him if he knew where Elvis was. He has this awe-struck look in his eyes as he looks at you. You silently roll your eyes at him, you didn’t want to talk to him, all you wanted to do was spend time with Elvis.

“I uhh… I don’t know. But you can hang out with me. I’m John, you’re y/n right?” He asks. You don’t have the patience to be making small talk with anyone tonight but you fear this guy won’t get the message.

“Yeah, I am,” you say as you keep looking for Elvis and taking another sip of champagne.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around here. How long have you known Elvis?” He asks. You sigh unamused, you weren’t in the mood to have another one of Elvis’ friends hitting you. Maybe you would have actually given it a shot if it was another night but it was not the right time at all. Your mind was so focused on getting to Elvis.

“Quite a while. He’s my best friend,” you say flatly.

“Well, that’s something you and I have in common. He and I go way back. Can I get you another glass of champagne?” He asks pointing to your glass.

To get through this conversation with you, I’m going to need ten, you think annoyed.

“Yeah sure,” you say flatly, creeping your way in slowly to the living room. You stretch on your tippy toes to see if you can spot Elvis. He was almost always the tallest one in a crowd and you hoped you’d get a glimpse of his dark black hair. It was useless because all you see are other people’s heads and couldn’t see anything else. You huffed annoyed, time was ticking by and you hadn’t even greeted Elvis yet.

You get tapped on your shoulder and you look up to find John with another champagne glass in his hand.

“Thanks, see you around,” you say as you quickly push your way into the crowd and make your escape from the annoying man.

The sound of the piano fills the living room and you just know that Elvis is the one playing in it. He did that so often at parties. He played so beautifully and loved to entertain even though it was his party. You finally squeeze yourself to the very front and see him. He looked so happy with all his friends around the piano waiting for him to burst out in song. He wore a white short-sleeved button-up that was ruffled on the chest and tucked into white pants. He cut his hair the shortest you’d ever seen it for boot camp but he still looks so handsome.

His attention gets torn from his friends and he catches a glimpse of you. His face lights up when he sees you and instantly gets up from the piano bench.

“There’s my favorite girl! Where have you been?” He asks excitedly, scooping you up in his arms and squeezing you tight. You can’t help but smile and giggle softly as you feel how happy he was to have you here.

“I’ve been looking all over for you! You’re impossible to find in your own house,” you giggle.

He gently sets you down and looks at your outfit, taking your hand in his. “And you look like a million bucks too!” He says twirling you around. “Thank you for coming. I’m so glad you’re here!” He says gleefully.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it!” You say with a smile.

“Perfect timing too. I was just about to play some songs, and you get to sing with me,” he says cheekily, pulling you onto the piano bench with him. You get extremely nervous, you do not like to be in a crowd of people and have the main focus on you.

“Oh no no no Elvis please I cannot sing,” you say nervously, trying to scoot away from him.

He wraps his arm around your waist and keeps you right next to him.

“Oh no, you’re not running away from me. You just got here! Come on, please sing with me. I love it when you do,” he pleads. He looks at you with soft eyes and a cute cheeky smile. God, you couldn’t say no to this man even if you tried.

You sigh defeated, “Okay fine. Only for a few songs, and then I’m hiding in the corner again,” you say jokingly, taking another sip of champagne. He lets out a big boisterous laugh, bringing his hands to the piano’s keys, and plays a few chords to warm up. He plays so effortlessly, stretching his long fingers across the ivories.

Well it’s one for the money

Two for the show

Three to get ready now go cat go

But don’t you step on my Blue Suede Shoes…

He radiates so much energy when he sings. There’s no way anyone could have a straight face while he performs. A huge smile forms on your face and you start clapping along to the beat. He bumps your shoulder to join in and you sing along with him softly. His mood is contagious and you can’t say no to him and join in.

The longer he plays, the less nervous you become. You don’t pay attention to any of the surrounding people in the living room. Song after song, it felt like it was just you and Elvis singing to each other. Or he was just singing to you. You honestly lost track of time as he continued to play more songs and you kept drinking your champagne. And come to think of it, you lost track of how many drinks you had too. But you didn’t care, you were having too much fun singing with Elvis. He was handed a few drinks and he was drinking them too. It surprised you because he normally never drank but the mood in here was so joyful and fun, you were sure he didn’t care tonight.

Before you knew it, the living room was slowly clearing out and the house was getting increasingly quieter. People were saying their goodbyes to Elvis and telling him how much they’d miss him. Some of the guys were going to go out driving and invited you both to join them, but Elvis wanted to stay here. You didn’t want to leave either, every second you had with him was precious.

It was past 1 am and Elvis started playing slower ballads while humming the tune. You could sit next to him for hours listening to him play. You were entranced by the way he played, how his fingers almost danced over the keys and the most melodious sounds rang out. You put down the last glass of champagne down and felt your head spin a bit. You tried not to focus on it too much and tried to draw your attention back to Elvis.

I’ll never let you go little darlin’

I’m so sorry, ‘cause I made you cry

I’ll never let you go because I love you

So please don’t ever say goodbye…

He plays the song so beautifully, letting the chords ring out fully before he sings the next line. You wish you could snap a picture of this moment and never let it fade away in your memory. Sitting here, listening to him sing a ballad as it pulls at your heartstrings. You were going to miss him so much. He wasn’t going to be down the street from you anymore. You couldn’t just stop by to see how he was. He was going to be thousands of miles away, in a different country, on a different continent. You promised yourself you weren’t going to cry, but you feel the tears well in your eyes as he finishes the song. Damn, the alcohol getting the best of you and your emotions.

Because I love you, pretty baby

I’m so sorry ‘cause I made you cry

I made you cry

Yeah, I’ll never let you go

“Cause I love you, little baby

So please don’t ever say good-bye

He finishes the song so beautifully and you both sit there in silence. A few tears were rolling down your cheeks and you don’t bother to wipe them away. He looks over at you and sees your tear-filled eyes.

“Aww y/n, what’s wrong? Why you cryin’?” He asks as he gently turns your head towards him. His thumbs gently wipe the rolling tears off of your face but that only makes it worse. You take a deep breath before speaking and try to hold it together.

“I’m just… I’m just going to miss you,” you say weakly. He instantly pulls you into his arms, your head resting in the crook of his neck. He rubs your back, trying to soothe you through your cries.

“I know, I am too. It’s going to be so different,” he admits.

“I don’t want you to go. You’re my best friend. Who am I going to talk to now?” You sob, holding onto his shirt.

“You’ll still have me. Write to me any time you want or put on one of my records when you’re lonely. Think of it as though I’m singin’ to you and only you. I love singin’ for you,” He coos. Your tears continue to pour down your face. That thought was too much. You couldn’t fathom the idea that the only way you were going to be able to hear his voice was on a record. You didn’t realize how spoiled you were that you could hear him sing right next to you any time you wanted.

You lift your head up off of him and nod your head. You look into his own tear-filled eyes and somehow his eyes look more blue and mesmerizing. Your head felt light after all the champagne but you didn’t care. Nothing could tear your focus away from Elvis right now. He wipes your tears away once more as his own fall down his cheeks.

“And what do I do if I find myself missin’ you?” He asks through sniffles.

You search for the right thing to say, not exactly sure what to say in a moment like this. You had nothing to offer Elvis. He was the man who had everything even though you both were so young. You look down at your hands, unsure what to do, and see your heart-shaped ring on your ring finger. It was something you found at a little boutique downtown. The band was gold with a black heart that had a sun and a small little diamond in the center. You thought it was cute and a nice find. You slide it off and lift it up for Elvis to see.

“Then you take this with you. I’ll always be with you if you have this,” you say softly. He carefully takes it out of your hand and looks at it closely. He looks up at you in disbelief.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take something so valuable to you,” you waivers.

“No please, I insist. It’s the least I could give,” you sniffle.

He pulls you in for another hug, squeezing you tighter than he ever has before. You so desperately wanted to freeze time so you could live in this moment forever. You didn’t want to let go of him. You were terrified he would come back from the Army and become a totally different person. But you had to stop thinking that, just enjoy these last few moments with him.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” he murmurs.

“Me too,” you say weakly.

“Don’t forget about me,” he whispers into your ear.

“Oh God I could never,” you tell him.

He breaks away from you, looking deeply into your eyes and placing his hand on your cheek. His thumb glides back and forth along your cheek and sighs to himself. You aren’t normally so close to him like this and can see so clearly how gorgeous he is. You swore his eyes sparkled when they looked at you. His nose was perfect and his skin was flawless. You watch as his eyes drift down to your lips and you do the same. Maybe you never consciously thought about it, but his lips were beautiful like the rest of him. They were full and plump with a soft pink color to them. They looked soft and pillowy almost.

You can feel your breathing hitch in your throat the longer you stare at him. His hands tighten around your body but are still very gentle as though he’s afraid he’s going to break you. He leans in ever so slowly, biting his lower lips as he does so.

“Good, me too…I can’t forget you even if I tried,” he murmurs sensually.

The tension he is giving off makes your head spin more and you can’t wait any longer. You lean into him and crash your lips into his.

He felt like heaven. Each kiss was tender and soft and yet there was so much urgency behind it. You were right, his lips were softer than you could have ever imagined, and felt like you were kissing pillows. You can’t catch your breath as you both kiss each other with more passion. His hands roamed up and down your back, clutching onto the material of your dress. Oh, those hands, they felt so good on you. They were addictive and you wished you could feel them on your skin instead. You had no idea you needed his attention like this.

You boldly slip your hand into his shirt, feeling the soft chest hairs that resided there. He responds with a soft pleased groan into your mouth. Your heart races in your chest, not believing that this is happening right now. You felt on fire with the way he was kissing you. He was so needy and desperate for your attention as his hands kept moving along your body. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you both groan when he does so. You had never thought. You needed him like this, you were always so adamant about staying friends. Maybe things could be different…

There was a throbbing developing in between your legs and was only growing worse by the second. It was so different than other times you’ve felt this way. You had felt this way in private moments by yourself but with Elvis, it was amplified to a whole other degree. Your chest heaves and you feel yourself become more needy. You slowly stand up and try to get Elvis to do the same thing. He breaks the kiss and looks at you a little perplexed. You push him backward to the couch that is right behind the piano. He quickly sits and stares up at you wide-eyed. He smooths out his pants and spreads his legs apart slightly. Your eyes drift to his long legs and how good he looks like this. He just exuded sensuality and temptation without even trying.

You notice how his length was hard and pushing up against his pants. Oh God, you’ve never felt more needy in your life. You wanted to feel what he was like underneath you. You quickly straddle his hips and scrunch up your dress before sitting down on him. Your core rests on top of his length and the heat from him makes it hard to breathe. You let out a small groan as you feel him underneath you. The straps of your dress slide off your shoulders and you’re left looking at Elvis’ luring eyes.

You both don’t say anything, just the sounds of your labored breaths fill the room. His hands drift from your back to the front of your body, gently cupping your breasts in his hands. You whimper softly, loving the way his hands feel on you. You look down as he does this, watching how his hands consume your soft breasts and have you reeling for more. He sighs as he continues to touch you, looking up at you with an awed gaze. You needed his lips once more and leaned in to kiss him again. The kisses somehow got even better with his hands on you like this. Your arms wrap around his neck and feel his soft hair with your fingertips.

Something instinctual takes over your body and your hips begin to move on him, grinding your core onto his hardened length. A bolt of electricity runs through you as you begin to move. You had no idea something like this could feel so satisfying. You break the kiss and gasp out, needing breath more than ever. Elvis lets out a deep groan and lets his head fall back with his eyes closed. Another wave of pleasure runs through you seeing him like this. He looked so attractive with satisfaction running through both you and him. His eyes pop back open with his mouth falling open slightly.

“Oh God honey… that feels so good,” he moans.

Honey.

Oh God he had never called you that before. Hearing that come from his lips made you feel like the actual word; a sweet sticky mess.

You nod your head at him and whimper in agreement as your breathing hitches. You keep eye contact with him as your core continues to throb with every movement of your hips.

“Elvis,” you whine.

He nods his head at you, his hands slithering to your back and grabbing handfuls of your ass. He helps you grind into him harder, his hands helping your hips move back and forth onto him. You gasp loudly, loving how this feels.

“I know honey, I know,” he groans, “You feel so good on my cock,” he whimpers into your ear.

You helplessly moan at just his words. You hold onto him tighter and move more as he helps you. The friction of your panties against his slacks made a coil in your belly form and it tightens with every move. You couldn’t get enough of him. You didn’t want to stop having him make you feel this way. He stills you and you look at him with needy eyes.

He takes one of his hands and moves it to the front of your body. He scrunches the material of your dress in his hand and looks up a you with pleading eyes.

“Can I touch you?” He asks softly. You nod your head quickly and help him lift up your dress. His fingertips graze your mound and move down to your folds. Wetness had pooled in your panties and you squirmed underneath him. Elvis moves his fingers slowly, taking his time exploring you.

“Jesus honey you’re soaked,” he groans. Your hips move with his curious fingers and moan in agreement. You feel his finger pull your panties to the side and continue to slide them through your wet folds. You cuss softly, loving how he’s making you feel. He pulls you in for a kiss again and you both moan when you feel each other’s lips. He puts more pressure on your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. Your body jolts forward with each touch and you are more breathless than you thought possible. You stare at him in awe as your pleasure builds and builds. He has a pleased smirk on his face as he watches you grind on his hand. You couldn’t imagine you could feel this good but it’s somehow possible with Elvis.

Your hands quickly work the buttons of his shirt and spread it open. You then work your way down to his pants and fidget with the button and slide down the zipper. Elvis stills you, not letting you go any further.

“Honey, wait,” Elvis sighs.

“Please, I want you,” you whimper.

“I know, so do I,” he grumbles into your neck.

“Please… please make me feel good. I want you,” you plead, grinding your hips onto him again. He lets out a loud groan, unable to denounce how good you feel. You move back a bit and your hand finds his length. You rub it softly, feeling how much heat is coming off of him and how it is throbbing from your touch. Your head spun when you felt him, you needed him more than anything.

“Please honey, please. Make love to me,” you beg, looking up at him with needy eyes, your hands scratching down his arms. He looks at you in awe. He reacts to you like he’s never heard such beautiful words in his life. He looks like he’s feeling just as weak as you and his hand slowly comes out from underneath your dress.

His demeanor suddenly becomes sorrowful and melancholy. He lowers his gaze and shakes his head somberly.

“I can’t honey. We can’t right now,” he says low.

You can’t help but feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. Being rejected by him hurt. You could have sworn he wanted you just the same.

He can see how you’re a bit hurt and taken aback by his words.

“It’s not that I don’t want to honey. Trust me, I would love to as you can see,” he says as he glances down at his hard length. “It’s just not the right time. I don’t want you regretting this kind of thing. I don’t want it to be because I’m leavin’ tomorrow,” he explains.

“It’s not because of that I just-,” you try to insist but end up stopping yourself, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked for sucha thing,” you say embarrassed. You quickly get off of him and stand wobbly. Your head spins more than you were prepared for and almost stumble sideways. Elvis thankfully grabs you and holds you upright.

“I gotcha, it’s okay. I don’t mean to make you feel bad honey. You need to know I loved every second of that,” he says sweetly, taking your face in his hands and placing a soft, tender kiss on your lips. You sigh at the feeling once more, not wanting to forget how this feels. You gently pull away and take a deep breath.

“I guess I should be going,” you tell him.

“Oh no, you should not be driving like this. Just stay the night,” he insists.

You didn’t have any fight left in you and you just nodded your head. He keeps his arm around your waist and leads you up the stairs with him. It was a challenge walking up those stairs while the whole world was spinning. He opens his bedroom door and helps you in.

His bedroom was warm and inviting. It smelled like him and made you want to put that scent into a candle. He turns on the lamp by his bed and you get a better view of the room. Most of his furnishings were black and there were piles of books on his dresser and on his nightstand.

He’s such a little bookworm.

You glance at the clock on the wall and it is past two. You feel his arms go around your waist again and he steps in front of you.

“Did you want to go to the bathroom or anything? Or would you rather lie down?” He asks you.

“I’ll just lay down,” you say sleepily. He nods his head and turns to pull back the sheets for you. You reach your hand at the back of your dress as he does this and struggle to find the zipper. You let out frustrated little sighs and he turns back to face you, concerned with what you’re doing.

“Help me unzip this dress please,” you say defeated as you turn around and lift up your hair. Elvis doesn’t say anything, all you can feel is his fingers gently pull on the zipper and drag it down to the small of your back. He turns you around and he has that needy look in his eye. You reach up on your tippy toes to give him a small peck on the lips. You can feel the smile forming on his face as you do this. You step around him and go to the bed. Before stepping in, you let your dress fall at your feet and quickly get underneath the sheets. They were soft and silky and the heavy comforter made it feel extra cozy.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, honey. You let me know if you need anything,” Elvis tells you. You slowly roll over and give him a pouty face.

“No please, stay with me. You can sleep with me,” you insist. He looks like he’s going to denounce this request but you don’t let him. You hold the sheets across your chest and pull at his hand.

“Please, Elvis. I want you to sleep in your own bed before you leave,” you plead.

He lets out a frustrated sigh and nods his head.

“Okay, let me change real quick,” he says. You smile sweetly at him and close your eyes as you wait for him. The room still felt wobbly but lying down did feel better. You hear Elvis sift through his closet and walk back into the room fully changed. The shift of weight in the bed made your eyes pop back open to watch him get into bed. He was shirtless with only his underwear on. He was still hard and could clearly see the outline of his cock in these. You tried to subside the needy feeling you had for him and just focus on sleep.

He lays down and gets underneath the sheet with you but leaves plenty of space between the two of you. You grumble annoyed, wanting him to get comfortable in his own bed.

You scoot closer to him, laying your head on his chest.

“You can get closer to me, I don’t bite,” you giggle.

He chuckles softly to himself, “oh good I was worried about that,” he teases.

You feel his arms wrap around you as you start to close your eyes again. You had never felt so safe and comforted in someone’s arms before.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he whispers.

“Mhmm, me too,” you slur sleepily.

“Don’t forget about me,” he says softly.

“Never,” you hum as you let the dark blanket of sleep take over.

The crack of sunlight shone in through the curtains making your eyes flutter open. You stretch your limbs and feel the soft silky sheets wrapped around you. Your eyes instantly pop open when you realize these do not feel like your sheets at home.

“Shit,” you say as you sit up quickly in the bed.

You look around and realize you’re in Elvis’ bedroom. You clutch the sheets around your chest and look down to realize you’re practically naked underneath them. Your heart hammers away, trying to scramble to remember what happened last night.

Did we? No, we couldn’t have… you think to yourself. You feel you still have your panties on and see your dress crinkled on the floor next to the bed. You try to recollect last night’s events as best you can. You remember singing with Elvis on the piano, smiling and laughing at him. Then you remember those eyes. Those beautiful, seductive blue eyes peering into yours with an intense blazing heat… how good he felt underneath you as he moaned your name. The need that grew inside of you to have him take care of you in a way you didn’t know existed.

But he stopped you… telling you that it wasn’t the right time. Your heart drops. That’s right, he stopped you from going any further. You sat there wishing he took care of you. Fulfilled the need he created inside of you. It still lingered in you as you sat there.

“Elvis?” You say out loud, seeing if he was still in the bedroom.

You frantically search for the clock and see it’s ten past ten. Your heart sinks again. Did he already leave? No, he couldn’t have, he would have said goodbye to you. You quickly put your dress back on and rush down the stairs.

Peeking into the dining room, the table was empty with not a trace anyone has been there. You go into the kitchen to see if you can find anyone there who might know where Elvis went to. You see one of his housekeepers at the sink rinsing off dishes. She hears you enter the kitchen and has a surprised look on her face.

“Oh hey darlin’! I didn’t know you were here!” She says excitedly.

“Yeah I stayed the night,” you say a bit timidly. “Where’s Elvis?” You ask.

She looks at you somberly, turning off the faucet and wiping her hands dry with a dish towel.

“Aww honey I’m sorry, you missed him. He left at dawn for New York. I’m sure he didn’t want to wake you. But you probably said your goodbyes last night right?” She tries to say positively.

You look down at the floor, trying to hide your flushing cheeks. Yeah, that was one hell of a way to say goodbye…

“Yes we did. I better get going. I’ll see you soon,” you tell her.

You make your way to the front door and stop dead in your tracks as you see an envelope on the side table with your name on it. You quickly grab it and make your way out the door. Your heart beats uncontrollably in your chest as you walk to your car. You quickly open the door and lock it as you stare at your name written in Elvis’ handwriting.

You hesitated to open it for some reason. A part of you thought he was going to confess how he regrets last night’s events. It scared you to see if that was the truth but had to see for yourself. You carefully tore the envelope open and pull the letter out. Your hands shook as you unfolded the paper.

My Girl,

I didn’t want to wake you this morning. You looked too peaceful. I had a wonderful night with you.

I’ll carry your ring with me wherever I go. It’s the greatest gift you could’ve ever given me.

I will be

With love,

Ep.

Tears roll down your cheeks as you stare at the words he wrote to you. You couldn’t help but feel like this was more than a goodbye letter. It was an end of an era for you two and he just put the nail in the coffin.

•

Tagging: @loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise@theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley@chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog.

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs @sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway @gatheraheart @aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis imagine #elvis smut #elvis fluff #elvis fic #60s elvis #fanfiction #Spotify

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hughiecampbelle · 2 months

Text

Baby Blue (Billy Butcher Oneshot)

Character/s: Butcher

Word Count: 1,014

Requested: Butcher fic request with Descriptions 16 (sing) and 43 (thunder and lightning) and Dialogue 5 (You're staring)? love your writing!!! - anon

A/N: My love!!! Thank you for requesting!!! My mind immediately went to the fluffiest place imaginable!! I love writing about storms and nature and the weather, I feel like I could describe it a thousand different ways, it brings me so much joy!! I hope you like it :D Feedback is always appreciated!! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

The thunder bashes her fists against the apartment windows. Tonight, she and her twin throw their duel tantrums. You are restless, checking the baby monitor, making sure they’re still asleep. Tossing and turning, he sleeps soundly beside you. Stonelike, dead, you watch his back rise and fall, thankful he is still breathing. Thankful he is still around. The rain falls in sheets. You can hear it crash into the pavement below you, the streets and sidewalks, alongside the midnight traffic. Everyone rushing to get out of it, to get home, somewhere familiar and dry and warm. The lightning flashes for a moment, a second, illuminating the bedroom. There’s no hiding from him. The room is messy. Laundry sits overflowing from the basket. His clothes are left in a trail leading to the bed. He’d gotten home an hour ago, maybe two, exhausted. He climbed in beside you, falling asleep quickly. There are toys, and clothes, and shoes strewn across the place. A suitcase sits opened, empty, by the closet. You haven’t packed yet.

You wanted one more night.

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until you wake up to the sound of crying. You pull the blankets back, moving quietly, not wanting to wake him, to disturb him. Through the hall, you find your way to the nursery. Butcher painted it for you before the baby was born, a soft sky blue. It was comforting then, but in the heart of the storm, it seemed dreary. Dreadful. He put together the crib too, swearing when he lost a tiny little screws, apologizing later. It made you laugh, though. He was so worried about being a bad influence. He even bought him a stuffed bulldog you both decided to name Terror. Terror slept in the crib with the baby. After two years, he’s been loved deeply. His missing button eye and frayed ears are proof of that. The baby wails, kicking his feet from under the blanket, fussing. Between sobs they call for you, their baby talk interrupted by gasps for air. You pick him up, hushing him, rubbing his back and reassuring him it would be okay. He was safe. The storm could not reach him. You stood by the window, showing him how the rain fell down the glasses. They're racing, you told him, showed him. Against your chest and shoulder, his body moved with his hiccups.

Butcher called your name. He sounded sleepy, urging you back to bed. When the baby had calmed down enough, when he was soothed enough, you walked back to your bedroom. You brought Terror, too. You placed him in between you, watching him smile up at Butcher. Your whole world was wrapped in this bed, this room. Outside the world was dark, brutal, unforgiving. The trees swayed in the wind, pulled to one side, the leaves torn from their mother's branches. Something in your breastbone spread, a kind of hurt one could only feel watching this sort of thing. You turned your attention towards Butcher instead. He shook Terror, barking for him, “biting” his chubby cheeks. The baby laughed and squealed. It was your favorite sound.

You listened to the thunder, the screaming, the fight she was putting up to be heard. You understood. You didn't like that it had scared him, the baby, but you got it. A begging to be believed. A sort of desperation. That's what everyone wanted. Lying on your side, you watched them, wanting this to last forever. Despite the bags under his bloodshot eyes, Butcher was all easy smiles. He whispered to the baby, afraid of anything louder. He placed his hand over their chest, feeling the flutter of their heartbeat. In return, he watched him, his bright, wide eyes taking him in. The baby cooed his name: DaDa, DaDa, DaDa. Drool seeped through Terrors ear as he spoke. His teething was coming to an end. You were grateful for this.

You're staring, Butcher says a little louder, pulling you from your thoughts. Sorry, you say, though you're not really sorry. His hair sticks up in all different directions. He's got a boyish quality to him you've always loved. He prides himself on having a hard outer shell, impenetrable, but the second he sees you and the baby, he melts. He's not as bulletproof as he likes to believe. Between you, the baby falls asleep eventually. You watch as you have watched Butcher: their chest moving up and down beneath his onesie. Neither of you talk, not wanting to ruin the moment. It's not often you get to do this: sit in silence, be in one another's company. It isn't often Butcher is content, serene. Instead he fills the space with jokes and quips. He doesn't do well without noise. He doesn't try it this time, though. You're wondering the same thing: how many more of these moments will you get?

Tomorrow, when the sun rises, he will go back to work. When he gets home, you won't be there. Neither will the baby. You will do as you have been instructed. You will pack a light. You will pack enough. You will get out of the city while there is still time. He's kept your family secret long enough, but Homelander is looking for you. He is looking for any excuse, any soft spot, any vulnerability to take Butcher down. You won't call, or text. You'll use another name, a different one, and you will disappear. If, not when, it is over he will find you. You're not sure how, but he promises he will. Everything he wants to say, every apology and fear and worry, they go unsaid. Not safe, but selfishly he wants to believe so. Foolishly, he wants to tell you not to go, not to leave him. That'd be silly. That'd be stupid. If you want your son to grow up, this is the only way to ensure that. He doesn't want to ruin the moment. Instead he fights off sleep, wanting to savor the moment a little longer. You and Baby Billy, together with him.

#requested #billy butcher #billy butcher oneshot #billy butcher drabble #billy butcher x reader #the boys #the boys oneshot #the boys drabble #the boys x reader #writing

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thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos · 14 days

Text

Bayverse Tipsy HCs

I went to a fun lil bar with some friends tonight and as I was looking around, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of drinkers the guys would be...so here we are. Everyone is 25+ (drink responsibly)

mentions alcohol, obviously

-Raph is a lightweight. Like a few drinks, and he's laughing and goofing around with Mikey like he's 16 again, messing with his brothers and telling stories; like a weight comes off his shoulders and he can relax, a lopsided smile plastered on his face.

-Leo only drinks sake (for the aesthetic). Mikey makes fun if him relentlessly (he calls Leo a weeb, in sibling name-calling fun). Leo claims he likes the taste, but Mike has compared the spirit to sweaty socks on multiple occasions. Leo will roll his eyes as he sips from his cup, Mikey and Raph giving him endless shit- but no one misses the wince as he swallows.

-Mike is the party dude- always has been, always will be. When he's feelin' it, he's all smiles and laughter until everyone else goes to bed for the night; sometimes staying up even later to play videogames by himself, or to text a friend, so the fun doesn't end too soon. He's the party instigator, turning movie nights into drinking games, or card games into waterfall. The guy loves to have a good time- and to turn his brain off so he doesn't have to think for a while.

-Don is a wild card. He likes whiskey, scotch, or bourbon- but doesn't drink to get drunk, he just genuinely enjoys the taste (Mikey and Raph know better than to make fun of Donnie, cause of threats that will be followed through on). When he wants to party, though, he rolls a joint in the back of his lab and lights up a fat one; and the man is alllll giggles when he's stoned- just a happy high going on while he watches his brothers with amusement on his face, and a bag of pork rinds in his hand.

-Mikey knows that Donnie smokes, and the brothers occasionally sneak off together to a tunnel far away enough from the lair that mother hen (Leo) won't smell anything (Leo knows, he's not an idiot). Leo doesn't really care, he's mostly just annoyed that they feel like they need to hide it from him. Raph smoked with them a few times, but it just made him paranoid- so he just sticks to what works.

-Raph gets goofy when he's tipsy; sometimes singing along to the music Mikey puts on the stereo, sometimes dancing to it in the middle on the living room- but always having a good time. He would 100% put the lampshade on his head and dance around to Elvis if he felt like it (90s movies). Loveable drunk guy energy.

-Leo is the sad girl drunk- getting emotional for seemingly no reason, abruptly leaving the room, then coming back an hour later and demanding an apology when every one else has forgotten what in the hell he's talking about. He feels things so much deeper when his guards are down; much quicker to anger, quicker to cry. He also wants to talk about deep things when he's tipsy, much to Mikey's irritation.

-Mikey has jackass energy when he's trashed. Like, let's ride this shopping cart off this ramp and see how far it goes into the street. Or what will happen if we shoot fireworks off in the tunnels? Or let's go down to the Hudson and see if we can spar underwater. Raph is his ride or die when it comes to his drunken schemes, but Leo always manages to shut down their plans somehow (he's not afraid to tattletale).

-Mikey can drink all of them under the table though, even Splinter.

-The guys' favorite game to play is beer pong- Raph is the undisputed champion of singles, but Mikey and Leo have won doubles every tournament for two years in a row. Donnie and Raph together can't focus long enough for the competition; Raph getting distracted by the music, and Donnie laughing too hard at him to aim the ball.

-Once Donnie set a glass of six raw eggs in front of a hungover Mikey, sliding it to him and mumbling about a hangover cure as Raph recorded them on his phone from the hallway to the kitchen. Splinter walked in as Mikey spit the mixture everywhere, and they were cleaning up egg yolk from the walls for a week.

-When Leo does let go of the control and anxiety, he has so much fun goofing around with his brothers like they used to as kids. It warms his heart to see them all gathered around a table, playing games and spending time together, as adults. He loves them so much. No Mike, I'm just a little tired, that's why- yeah, don't worry about it.

tags : @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @zombiesnips-blog @4evrdreamin5 @gornackeaterofworlds @the-cauldron-witch @pheradream-15 @iridescentflamingo @scholastic-dragon

this was so fun lol :) as always, hit me up if you wanna join the tag train 18+

#tmnt aged up #tmnt #tmnt headcanons #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt bayverse #bayverse leonardo #bayverse raphael #bayverse donatello #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse tmnt #bayverse mikey #bayverse donnie #bayverse raph #bayverse leo #my writing

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1970sgothfreak · 2 years

Text

The forgotten Twin’s birthday

L“Sorry, can’t make dance tonight busy with the boys”

You looked away from your phone and around your room annoyed at the fact that your father blew off your father-daughter date to train with the boys (mainly Damian) you shrugged and placed the phone back onto your bed.

This wasn’t the first time he had done this, hell even the boys blew you off but at least Bruce had the common decency to at least text you and not have you embarrass yourself.

So you decided to just go into the library and try to read to calm your thoughts which is what you did, on your way there you bumped into Alfred who was making his way down the hallway, probably to deleive bandages to Bruce or check on Tim to see how much caffeine he had had.

“Oh, Madam Wayne my apologies I did not see you” the butler apologies with a slight bow, you felt your lip twich up into a slight smile at the butler. Alfred was the only one in the family who actually cared about you no matter how silly or embarrassing the situation was.

“No no it’s fine Alfred i wasn’t watching where I was going, do you need help with anything at the moment”

“No Madam Wayne, I do want to wish you a happy birthday tho, I can’t believe you are now Sixteen” he said with a small smile which made you pause…Alfred..actually remembered?. You looked up at him with a small smile and thanked him before heading towards the library to do some light reading.

~later that night~

You were in your room scrolling through Instagram only to see a bunch of sappy happy family’s and other people celebrating their own birthdays or the girls at your school having fun at the dance with their own dads.

Shrugging and closing the app you threw your phone to the foot of your bed before getting up and stretching deciding to head downstairs to see if your so called family was back home from patrolling the shit city you lived in.

As you walked down the stairs you could hear voices…singing?, you quickly yet quietly continued down the stairs and peeked around the corner only to see the others along with Jon singing happy birthday to Damian, he was looking down to hide the small blush of embarrassment that appeared on his cheeks.

You just stood there…watching them sing to him before you felt something wet your cheeks, you lifted your hands to your face to feel what the wetness was only to realise it was tears…you were crying but you didn’t feel sad. You turned around and went back upstairs not seeing the confused yet concerned look that Jon sent your way.

“Kent? What is wrong with you why do you look concerned?” Damian questioned looking at Jon with a slight eyebrow raise

Jon looked at Damian, then to the others and that’s when he realised…did…did no one else remember it was also your birthday?, is that why why you had teary eyes. He looked at the entire family confused.

“Did you know..?”

“Know what Jon?” Dick said raising his eyebrow with confusion, the fact that he didn’t know pissed Jon off a little.

“The fact that it’s also y/n’s birthday?” He said in a tone that sounded as it should have been obvious what the thing they forgotten was.

When he saw non of them react to his words he stood up and sighed, he then turned to Bruce.

“Mr Wayne I have a lot of respect for you but…what you did was shitty, she’s your daughter and you Damian” he said turning to the now shocked Damian as Jon was never known for cursing

“She is your twin! I would have expected to you to have at least had the common decency to say happy birthday to her…but she’s not your sister to you is she..” he trailed off and started walking to the staircase.

He paused, turned his head to the Men in the room with a slight glare in his eyes and said

“She was never your sister, nor was she ever your daughter..at least not in your eyes because clearly in your eyes she was nothing” before turning back to the stairs and heading up them.

~With you~

You were sitting on your bed, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other only taking small sips of the the beverage that Alfred had left you with a small birthday note and a plate of his delicious home made cookies. You looked up hearing a knock on your door, you placed your tea down and put your bookmark in before going up to your bedroom door and unlocking it.

You opened it to see…Jon?, he was standing there with that same adorable awkward smile that you had grown to love, aside from Alfred Jon was also there for you when needed him to be even if it meant waking him up at the crack of dawn to get burgers with you.

“Hey Jon..what’s up?”

“Happy birthday Y/N!” He yelled and pulled you into a hug smiling, you felt yourself tense up at first not knowing how to react…he..he remembered..?, you slowly raise your arms and hug him back burying your face into his neck and softly began to sob letting out all the pain and frustration you had been feeling that day.

He tightened his grip onto you slowing rubbing your back with one hand while the other held onto your waist, he knew that sometimes they family would ignore you but to this extent..? He sighed and continued to rub your back letting you sob until he felt you go limp, he looked down and saw you had passed out.

He stared down at your face admiring your features, you had a slight redness to your eyes but he still thought you looked beautiful, he kept staring until his gaze fell to your soft lips slightly parted because of your staggered breathing.

“No…no stop it Jon she’s your best friend”

he scolded himself in his mind but…he couldn’t stop looking at your face and gently placed a soft kiss upon your forehead before bringing you to bed and laying down with you, he tensed up feeling someone grab onto his arm only to look down and see you cuddled up to his arm with a small soft smile in your sleep.

~back downstairs~

No one’s pov: (IK this is probably annoying but I can’t do personal pov’s yet lol)

The boys sat at the table saying nothing and just continued to stare at the staircase when Jon had previously stood and scolded them, had they really forgotten that it was also your birthday? No they couldn’t have…could they?

“I see you boys finally understood why Miss Wayne has been upset recently” Alfred’s voice spoke from the entrance way to the kitchen, no one looked at him simply confirming his statement.

“She…we…I-I..it’s not” Dick stuttered trying to come up with an excuse but stopped when he realised that they had indeed forgotten your birthday and they felt horrible. Damian stared at the cake feeling angry but not at you for once…he felt it at himself, he remembered the promise he had made to you…the promise to make sure he protected you and was an actual brother to you but instead he did nothing, he simply trained with Bruce and the boys never inviting you.

“Wait…her birthdays today and she’s Damian’s twin meaning she’s sixteen…didn’t she invite us to her to her play yesterday…?” Jason spoke up making them all realise…when was the last time any of them actually acknowledge you and that’s when they realise..

They never went to the play

Dick didn’t show you some of his old tricks like you had begged him to

Tim hadn’t come and watched Game of Thrones with you after training like he promised

Jason didn’t go to your lunch date that you set up

Damian…he couldn’t remember the last he was with you in this house doing something together like normal twins

And…

And Bruce realises..he had cancelled his plans of going to the father daughter dance at your school with you. None of them actually spent time with you since you arrived only focusing on each other.

They were horrible brothers and they were finally realising it which also made them realise that you might never forgive them and they couldn’t have it so they made a silent promised to make sure that tomorrow was going to be the best make up birthday ever.

#batfam angst #batsis reader #30/90 #jon kent x reader #platonic #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batfam x batsis #The forgotten Twin’s birthday

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blackreaderfics · 1 year

Text

Pinky Promises | Clark Kent x Reader

↳ Pairing : MAWS Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

↳ Rating : PG

↳ Summary : childhood friends meet again under unlikely circumstances

↳ W.C : ~1.3k

↳ Tags: fluff, mild language, flashback, childhood friends, extrovert!reader x introvert!clark, reader giving manic pixie dream girl vibes, heat vision when excited/agitated/stressed, mixed in some MoS backstory

“Give them back!” Clark swiped at the older boy who was now dangling his glasses high above his head.

“Or what, four eyes?” His bully since the first day of middle school, Billy sneered. “I just wanna see ’em.”

Clark knew that wasn’t true. Every time Billy wanted to “see” something he’d just outright take it without giving it back. It started with his pencils, which was innocuous enough, until it moved on to the lunches his mom packed, and even his new sneakers at one point.

Clark was okay with losing those things. He had plenty of pencils, and he was never really that hungry. He could try and fly home if worst came to worst too, but his glasses were the one thing he couldn’t give up to Billy.

The first time his heat vision had flared up, Billy had spilled his carton of milk in his lap on purpose, making it look like Clark had peed himself in front of half the school. He’d almost burned a hole into the school lunch table out of embarrassment. The second time happened on that same day, after school when he’d snapped at his mother for prying too much, singeing the doorframe.

A few days later Martha Kent would give him a special pair of glasses that she’d made herself using the glass of the spaceship he landed in. And upon seeing her gift, he’d bury his face into his mother’s arms as an apology and a ‘thank you’.

“How the hell are you even seeing through these?” Billy inspected the glasses, all the while avoiding Clark’s reach. “They don’t even work. Just a piece of garbage.”

Clark could feel his anger rising and a prickling heat behind his eyes. Reflexively he squeezed his eyes shut and stumbled, tripping backward from Billy’s rough shove.

“What? You crying, loser?” He taunted. “Don’t worry I’ll take out the trash for you.” Billy wound up, preparing to throw the glasses like a baseball.

“Hey! Leave him alone you big bully!”

Clark peeked his eyes open to see you barreling down the road wielding a baseball bat and already swinging wildly.

Clark had heard about you offhandedly from his peers. You were like a Smallville Middle School urban legend mostly for your weird outfits and lack of filter. Unlike Clark, no one dared to bully you for fear of your unpredictable nature. Even Billy, big as he was, knew better than to stick around to test it.

“That’s right! You better run!” You shouted as Billy escaped.

Clark blinked dumbly back at you, and even more dumbly when he felt his glasses being placed back on his face. Your face was close, and your mouth was moving but he could only hear the sound of his heartbeat thumping in his ears. Your tugging him to his feet was what finally pulled him back to reality.

“—and if any one bothers you again they’re gonna have to go through me! And if I’m not there you better fight back and kick his butt, Clark!”

You held out a pinky, the look on your face leaving no room for Clark to refuse it. He linked his pinky with your own, marking the beginning of your friendship along with the unofficial beginning of Clark’s crush on you. The next day you would sit next to him at lunch, naturally, as if you had always been friends.

The Kents began to notice that their usually quiet son was visibly happier and becoming much more talkative. Imagine Martha Kent’s surprise when a phone call for Clark came into the house phone, and a female voice was on the other end.

Jonathan Kent would be equally surprised when he accidentally picked up the house phone and overheard Clark talking to you excitedly about his favorite book series. Needless to say, they would hint incessantly to Clark that he should invite his new “friend” over for dinner.

It wasn’t long before you were inseparable; and for all of middle school everywhere he was, you were not far off. Until one day you told him you were moving away, 100 miles away to be exact, to Metropolis.

You would pinky promise each other to keep in touch but as you both got busier and Clark discovered more about his own origins, the letters and phone calls became more sparse until communication stopped entirely.

10 years later

The one day you decided to get your hair done was the day some eldritch abomination decided to descend upon the city of Metropolis.

You were used to it by now; you had your fair share of close calls. Most people would hole themselves up in their apartments and never come out with all the intermittent attacks lately, but you weren’t most people and in your opinion, living in fear was not living at all.

So when you found yourself falling to your death from a building, you accepted your fate and braced yourself for the inevitable impact. Only...it never came. You did feel your cheek resting against something hard though, and when you looked up at what seemed to break your fall, you found yourself face to face with the “Man of Steel” himself: Superman.

“Fear not, citizen. You’re safe now.” You could hear his deep voice rumble from his chest to your ear as he spoke.

When Clark finally got a good look at your face, it felt like he was back in Smallville again, back to the day you’d chased Billy off. Back to the moment your face had filled his vision entirely; All he could see was you. He almost blurted out your name out of surprise until he remembered he was supposed to be a hero now and not Clark Kent, the farm boy.

“You look…” You began but then trailed off as you stared at his face. You were breathless from everything; the fall, the chaos, and now the handsome man who made you feel safe in his arms. You couldn't quite place it, but he looked oddly familiar. “You look a lot like someone I know.”

“I…get that a lot, Ma’am.” Clark tried to sound professional and not alarmed at the fact that there was a chance you’d recognize him. “Get to safety quickly.” He recovered the authority in his voice, but it was now clashing with his reddening face. When he set you down, you wondered why the charismatic superhero you’d seen on TV seemed much shyer in person.

“Well, I would but--” Your eyes both drifted to where he still had a protective arm circled around your waist, pulling you close to his body. Upon realizing he hadn’t let you go, he jerked his arm away to give an awkward salute.

You gave him a curious look; He was so jumpy and…cute? Oh god, it was killing you. Where had you seen that face before?

A loud crash accompanied by a guttural roar from the 50-foot-tall monster in the background saved Clark from further embarrassment. “Well, uh, that’s my cue.”

“Hey, Superman?” You suddenly spoke up as he turned around.

He paused to look back at you, mid-preparation for flight.

“Kick its fucking ass!”

And with that, he returned you a bashful smile with a thumbs up and took off into the air.

That night, after a long fight with the inter-dimensional threat, Clark had gotten a voicemail from his Mom saying that you had called her asking for his number. Not shortly after, his phone vibrated, an unknown number with a Metropolis area code filling the screen. It must’ve been you.

“Hey, it’s me, Y/N. Something reminded me of you today." His heart leaped. Ten years later and yet your voice still made his heart rate erratic; a form of muscle memory.

"I got your number from your Mom," You continued. "Do you…still remember that promise we made when we were kids? The day before I moved.” You talked to him like you’d never left. Like you were picking back up a conversation that began yesterday and not a decade ago.

How could Clark possibly forget? And what happened to ‘Hello, how are you?’ But being too embarrassed to say it out loud, he could only breathe out a shaky “Y-yea. I remember.”

On a warm summer day, you made rings out of dandelions and a half-joking pinky promise that you would marry each other someday.

You were kids who didn’t know much about marriage or how it worked exactly, but you knew that’s what people did if they liked each other enough. And there was no doubt that you both liked each other because that pinky promise was the first and only one that had been sealed with a kiss.

#reader figures out he’s Superman pretty quickly later on offscreen 🤭#needed to write fluff after all the smut lol #cross posted on ao3 #maws x reader #maws clark kent #maws x you #clark kent x reader #my adventures with superman #maws imagines #brfwrites

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effy-writes · 3 months

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can you maybe write something for Fizz where they were friends and when blitz ran away, she stayed and tried to help get him out of the fire, and in doing so, she lost her right arm. and now she is his partner in his clown gigs, and they both get captured and taken for ransom, and then they think that they're going to die so they both confess, but turns out that they get saved, and are together?

tysm :)

ofc!! i already did do a request very similar to that so i’m gonna do hc’s for this, either way hope you enjoy!

also i have insane writers block rn so bare with me 😔

~~~~

fizz x f! reader: being held ransom together and confessing feelings hc’s

• fizz and you bonded over the same trauma that you guys endured. both got injured and you two had to start a whole new life without limbs (with you just your arm)

• fizz would always apologize that you lost an arm, but you always tell him to stop apologizing and that you wanted to help because you didn’t want to lose him. he was helpless and needed to get out of there, but when you pulled him out your arm got engulfed by the flames that was on the curtain just next to his body, you would always reply, “i would rather lose an arm than you lose you”

• years later, ozzie given you and fizz new “limbs” as well as a job. at first you were very reluctant to perform again and it took a lot of convincing from fizz to encourage you to perform.

“it’ll be like old times!”

“exactly. i don’t want to get reminded of the past. i don’t even think i could perform again without getting all emotional.”

“i miss performing with you, y/n. let’s just do this one time and if you don’t like it then i won’t force you. but i know you love dancing, singing, acrobatics, and when you did them in the past you looked so happy. i miss that smile.”

• eventually you gave in and started rehearsing with fizz and found great enjoyment in it. ever since then you two been performing together.

• you already know that fizz got held ransom before with blitz, and that was a wholeeee other thing you had to deal with. you don’t know which day was more traumatizing, you and fizz almost dying or fizz almost dying and you couldn’t do anything about it

• whenever you two got kidnapped by a critic and got locked in a basement things definitely changed. he was freaking out as much as you were but he didn’t want to seem weak in front of you, so he put on an act and tried to comfort you as much as possible.

• since both of your arms and legs got tied up he had to wiggle himself over to you and used his head to rub it against your shoulder, “we’re going to be okay, alright? ozzie will eventually figure out by now that we’re in trouble because we’re supposed to perform in like…20 minutes?”

“that’s not helping me out fizz!”

“ah shit! okay okay um..we’re in this together?”

“fizz, i love you but you’re not making this any better.”

• unfortunately, fizz wasn’t right and you guys been stuck down here for hours. the critic hasn’t came down, so you two began wondering if he forgot about you guys. “do you think we can eat the robotic limbs? like will we die?”

“y/n…what?”

“i mean..yeah i kinda just answered my own question.”

• after some hours of you guys crying, laughing, freaking out, joking around with each other, the critic finally went downstairs to the basement. out of fear you and fizz huddled close to each other.

• the critic spoke about how much he hates you and fizz for ignoring him on social media and in public. at first he wanted to be friends with you guys and just keep you guys down here, but after hearing you guys cry, talk, and laugh, he became so envious of your guys relationship that he wanted both of you gone.

• you didn’t want to die like this, not die without confessing your feelings, and fizz felt the EXACT same way. at the same time you guys said, “i always had feelings for you and was just too afraid to admit it.” “wait WHAT”

• before the critic could say anything a loud gunshot pierced your ears, and once you two looked back up you saw no other than blitz.

“BLITZO?”

“heyyy guys…totally WASNT spying on you two.”

“then why the fuck are you here?” you spat.

“apparently saving your guy’s lives. took you long enough fizz to admit you have feelings for her!”

• basically, right after blitz saved you guys you and fizz had a long and awkward conversation about how you two had feelings for each other for the longest time and both of you had the same reasons as to why you didn’t want to tell the other person, you guys just didn’t want to ruin what you already have

• the day after, fizz wanted to properly confess his feelings at a nice dinner and that’s exactly what he did, and you obviously agreed to be his girlfriend

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #fizz x reader #fizzarolli x reader #fizz headcannon #fizzarolli headcannon #fem reader #fizz #fizzarolli

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slugtranslation-hypmic · 1 month

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All the fling posse song snippets are out !!!

👀 The Fling Posse snippets are all out now!! :D Ramuda sounds so happy I cry TwT

Hey! Any thoughts on the Fling Posse solo previews? Love hearing your opinions on the trailers and getting some neat tidbits of insight into the lyrics/motifs.

Thanks for the messages! Let's go check 'em out.

One and Only

(8 seconds in) Ramuda's saying "Let's go" too

(41 seconds in) Ahh!

(48 seconds in) Jesus, Shirai is really pushing his range in this one

(50 seconds in) Self love for Ramuda, hell yeah. Good on him

(End of video) Not a lot to say; I feel like this one was pretty straight-forward. It's Ramuda embracing his personal identity as a unique human being-- LOVE to see it-- which is the culmination of his arc through the series so far. The music itself didn't capture me. I might warm up to it later like I usually do, but Shirai's singing on its own isn't usually my cup of tea. Which is chill; I hope other people like it. The wordplay on "clap your hands (te wo tataite); I want to celebrate [being alive] (tataeteitai)" was neat.

Lies

(Title note) I'm intrigued that the title is in kana instead of kanji, giving it a simple and almost "honest" feel in its simplicity. It's been a hot sec since I've seen Gentarou use that word in writing but iirc he usually uses kanji for it.

(5 seconds in) Loving this piano.

(15 seconds in) A boku-using Gentarou? Bruh.

(35 seconds in) Ohhh I see the point of the kana. The title is the same as a famous Shuntarou Tanikawa poem narrated by a little boy (hence the lack of kanji). Since the song lyrics reference it, here's a quick 'n dirty TL of the poem: Lies I think I'll always tell lies. My mother doesn't, but she's done so before. I think that because I know lying is painful. Even if the things I say are lies, the lying feeling is the truth. There are some truths that can only be told in lies. Even dogs--if they could talk, I think they'd tell lies as well. Even when I tell lies, even when my lies get caught, I don't apologize. I never tell lies just to get out of trouble. (*) Even if no one knows that, I know that, and so here I am, living with my lies. Until I just can't bear to lie any longer, I know I'll lie again and again and all the while long for the truth. (*) Literally, "resolve [the trouble] with apologies" which is why the narrator says he doesn't apologize Anyway, the "Even when I tell lies..." verse sans "and so..." is the opening of this song. Gentarou stops at "Even if no one knows that" and sighs in his second repetition of the verse.

(end of song) Wait, the whole thing is just verses of this poem? This is really cool and artistic (I dig it) but wow, what a choice! Saitou Souma's performance is incredible, and the background music is cool. I don't know how well this would go on a playlist, but I am here for it! ...I'm also wondering what the rights acquisition must have been like. This poem isn't in the JPN public domain yet, right? Hahaha.

God in the Dice

(title note) Fwiw I usually say Dice has "spirits" in his dice; calling them gods is just as valid. That seems to be what this is referring to.

(15 seconds in) Man I love Nozuyama's rapping chops. He delivers every time

(23 seconds in) Going to take this "I don't care" and make it a reaction image. Can't adequately express how much the phrase "Thog don't care" gets me through the day; this is right up there with that

(29 seconds in) It's very, very funny that Gentarou always teases Dice about his lack of vocab when you compare these two songs back to back. Hahaha.

(50 seconds in) Call back to Scramble Gamble with a more positive outlook. I can fuck with that.

(end of song) This one seems very similar to Ramuda's in terms of message (once again, I'm inappropriately amused at the notion of Ramuda and Dice living it up in the booth like "Love yourself...! Respect yourself! Love yourse--" and then it cuts to Gentarou who's got a piano and a Dramatic Poetry Reading and Angst. Well, that's Gentarou's way of loving himself, I suppose) and on the one hand, I am very happy for Dice deciding to live his life his own way, even if it goes against societal values... but I don't know how I feel about indulging in a gambling addiction as a way to explore that. You know? Maybe I'm just going "You don't have to follow societal expectations, but you should follow MY expectations, dammit!" Hahaha. Well....... Do what you gotta do, homie.... I'm reminded of how very 20 Dice is. Very, very 20 y.o. leaving a bad home life. Do what you gotta do....

Well, that's Fling Posse! Very much their usual Fling Posse selves.

#not a translation #asks #hypmic asks

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munsonkitten · 5 months

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Sub Eddie Week day 3: Brat Eddie (with spanking & daddy Steve) | Read the full fic on AO3 [Explicit] @subeddieweek

Eddie gets into this mindset when he’s on stage. This headspace where he’s the most important person in the world because everyone’s singing his words and screaming his name. He’s a fucking diva, Steve won’t even deny that. He struts and he moves a certain way and he does whatever the hell he wants whenever he wants to do it.

And he gets a little mean. Just a tiny bit. Steve would call him bratty, but everyone else would probably say mean.

Steve has him in the dress tonight, skimpy underwear underneath, plugged up and ready to go the second he gets off stage because Eddie gets like this. He gets in this headspace, he floats up into the clouds, and Steve’s there to make sure he comes back down to earth gently, makes sure he doesn’t fly too close to the sun and come crashing down.

He makes sure Eddie doesn’t say anything he regrets when he gets off stage each night.

That’s kind of how this all started — Eddie had been high on god knows what, he’d been drinking, he’d been too fucking self centered, and Steve just… Snapped, really. He snapped because Eddie demanded another drink after a set and almost made someone cry.

He told Eddie to get his shit together. He told him to apologize.

That made Eddie stop dead in his tracks, and his eyes cleared, and he slumped a little bit, stumbled into Steve a little bit, and Steve steadied him because that’s what he does, and Eddie apologized, and then he turned and apologized to the person he yelled at, and after that — well, after that, they figured out Eddie responds well to Steve.

They’d been fooling around for a few weeks at that point. Nothing serious, just… Two guys in close quarters who trust each other, getting off together. They’d both been realizing things about themselves, both of them having only been with girls before that, both of them realizing it was never as good doing anything with girls as it is to get a simple handjob from a guy, and well…

It wasn’t hard to figure everything out. Their system for before shows and afterwards.

When Eddie needs to come back down to earth and Steve’s the one who gets him there.

Steve’s the one who really runs the show, after all.

Just as expected, Eddie takes a different guitar halfway through the set and he’s not entirely nice about it. Steve lets him go this time because now isn’t the time to remind Eddie who he belongs to. Eddie belongs to the crowd right now.

The crowd belongs to Eddie.

Steve just needs to wait, watch as his boyfriend acts like a whore for nearly twenty thousand people, watch as Eddie soars, his fingers dancing on his guitar, as he wails into his microphone.

He watches from his spot side stage, and he waits. He waits until the moment he needs to reclaim Eddie, and not a moment later.

The last notes of the set fall silent, but the venue lights stay dim. The crowd screams for an encore, and Eddie’s running around backstage trying to keep his energy up. Steve forces a bottle of water into his hand and makes him drink a few sips of it.

Eddie rolls his eyes, tugs anxiously at the hem of his dress, making sure it covers everything because he won’t have his guitar during the encore because he goes down into the crowd, standing on the floor as everyone parts around him, and sometimes he stage dives, but not tonight because Steve told him he can’t. No one can touch him tonight, not when he’s dressed the way he is with barely anything on underneath. He’s not flashing his dick to every poor sucker who gets stuck underneath him while he crowd surfs.

Before Eddie goes back out, Steve drags him in for a kiss, hidden in the safety of the darkness. They’re not exactly open about their relationship, the world isn’t quite ready for full openness, but they don’t exactly hide it either. Steve knows he’s allowed to do this, and Eddie needs it right now or he’s going to jump out of his skin.

He feels the moan against his lips more than he hears it, a sound just for him in the middle of a roaring crowd. He squeezes Eddie’s hip possessively, pulling him in even closer.

“Easy there, daddy,” Eddie says with a smirk. “They’re not done with me just yet.”

Steve’s blood burns red hot in his veins. That makes him want to take Eddie back to the dressing room and have his way with him right now.

But he can’t, so he just turns Eddie around by his shoulders and playfully smacks his ass to send him away.

Then Eddie’s off, running back on stage while the band kicks off their final song.

Hometown shows always get Eddie extra revved up. Something about being so loved in a place so close to where he was so hated. Steve knows assholes from high school are out in the crowd pretending they loved Eddie all along, telling stories to strangers about how Eddie was back then.

It makes Eddie feel bigger than the entire world.

When the last notes ring out and Eddie climbs back on stage and the lights come up, Steve’s there. He’s there to catch Eddie by the arm and drag him down the hallway to his dressing room. Everyone else has instructions on packing away equipment, everyone knows to give Steve and Eddie enough time to sort things out. They know not to touch any of Eddie’s guitars, even the ones that Steve already put away in cases when they were done being used for the night.

They know that Eddie will be useless after all of this, that he’ll follow Steve around like a lost puppy while Steve packs up amps and guitar cases and makes sure everything else is in order before they head to the next city.

“Stupid,” Eddie grumbles as Steve pulls him down the hallway backstage. “Fucking. Ex. Why the fuck — no, it’s — it’s fine. Maybe it’s not fine because why the fuck does she think — no. No, it’s fine.”

He’s always muttering about something or another after a show, and Steve knows he just needs to forget about everything, to be able to let it go. Steve likes when he gets like this — all mouthy and annoyed. It means they get to have fun, that Eddie will be mouthy and talk back to him and give Steve more to work with. It means he gets to put his hands on Eddie and make him fucking whine.

“You forgot who you belong to,” Steve tells him the second they’re behind a locked door.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie taunts. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Gonna have to remind you,” Steve whispers before pushing Eddie up against the door and crashing their lips together.

Eddie’s reaction is to push back, to shove Steve over to one of the old couches up against the wall, but Steve doesn’t let him. He pins Eddie where he is, a knee shoved between his thighs, hands on his wrists above his head against the door.

“I don’t think so, baby,” Steve warns. “Need you to remember.”

“C’mon, then,” Eddie says. “Get on with it.”

“Be patient,” Steve says. But he knows Eddie can’t be. It’s why he’s in a dress and just a pair of panties that can easily be pulled to the side — because they both need the easiest access they can get, no time for extra constraints tonight.

They learned their lesson last time they were in Indiana, when Eddie decided to wear fishnet tights, underwear, and a pair of ripped up jeans. Only the jeans made it through that encounter, and that’s only because, try as he might, Steve can’t rip through denim with his bare hands.

Eddie still pushes back against Steve, but he’s half hearted about it, already slipping down where Steve likes him.

“C’mon,” Eddie grunts, pushing his dick down onto Steve’s thigh. The dress is riding up, showing Eddie’s cock straining inside his underwear as it hardens against Steve’s jeans.

“Go over to the counter,” Steve tells him, releasing Eddie from his grip. “Bend over.”

“Make me,” Eddie challenges.

And so it goes like it always does — Steve picks up Eddie around the waist and carries him over to the counter. He shoves him down over it, pushing the dress up over Eddie’s ass to put him on full display. He tugs the black panties up by the waist band, making them disappear into his crack. Eddie whines, and Steve knows the plug just got pushed even deeper inside him.

He’s beautiful like this and Steve tells him. Scars and tattoos on pale skin. Steve thumbs at a scar on his back, slides over to the edge of a tattoo on Eddie’s side.

“So pretty,” Steve says again. He lightly grazes his fingers down, presses at the base of the plug inside Eddie.

Eddie jolts beneath his touch. He makes a noise of protest when Steve draws his fingers away, and he sighs in relief when Steve tugs the underwear down. A light tap to Eddie’s thigh has him stepping out of them and kicking them to the side, automatic in his movements.

“Aw, look at you,” Steve coos. He can’t hide the slight laughter in his voice. “So sweet and obedient for me.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie shoots back, looking at Steve over his shoulder with a playful glint in his eyes. The words aren’t all there, like Eddie’s forcing the front today, like he wants to give up the performance and just let Steve have him.

Read the rest on AO3

#steddie #my fics #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steve/eddie #stranger things #subeddieweek #rockstar eddie munson

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