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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year ago

Note

Ask game: 39, 39, 39, 39, oh and also 39

Blease give me more of your writing your brain weirdness is extremely satisfying to my brain weirdness in a way that few others understand or can replicate

Immediately after the battle with Aizen, in what's left of Fake Karakura:

Something neon pink appeared at Shinji's elbow At Speed and he startled, yelping loudly and having to fight the reflex to kick what appeared to be a small girl.

"HeyifyouseemydadIwaswiththefallbacktimethewholetimeokay?" She spoke at a speed Shinji had only ever heard from a dangerously overcaffienated Mashiro before.

"I'm not lying for you, Kusajishi." sighed Kuchiki.

"YACHIRU!" someone bellowed loud enough to make the few unbroken windows ring, and Shinji turned to the sound of Ominous Jingling to see a giant of a man with a peculiar vertical hairstyle and a captain's Haori approaching, livid.

"Shit." She muttered, turning to grin sheepishly at her father as he stomped over, expression dark and a tiny, teal-haired toddler on his hip.

"Where were you supposed to be today?" The Giant growled down at Yachiru, and Kuchiki excused himself to sit down on a nearby piece of bench-height rubble.

"...You told me to stay with the fallback team in Seireitei." She sighed.

"So why are you here?" the giant growled.

"BECAUSE YOU'VE BEEN WEIRD ALL MONTH AND IF SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOU IN LAS NOCHES I'D NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF!" She shouted, reflexive foot-stomp blasting out a wave of enraged reiatsu.

"So, uh, who're Pinky and Punky here?" Shinji asked, limping over to sit down to watch next to Kuchiki.

"Eleventh Division Captain Zaraki Kenpachi and his daughter, Yachiru Kusajishi." Kuchiki nodded. "They're loud, but honorable and reliable."

"I'VE BEEN WEIRD ALL MONTH BECAUSE- Shit, it's- Its complicated, okay?" Kenpachi groaned.

"And the other girl?" Shinji asked.

"I believe Kurosaki said her name was 'Nel' or similar." Kuchiki nodded. "Not entirely sure why Zaraki is the one carrying her around but it's nothing to worry about. He's great with kids."

"SINCE WHEN HAS 'COMPLICATED' BEEN A REASON TO HIDE STUFF FROM ME?" Yachiru demanded, bristling at him.

"Great with kids, huh?" Shinji glanced over at Kuchiki.

"-BECAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON EITHER UNTIL ABOUT TWO HOURS AGO! WHAT IF SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED TO YOU, HUH? IT'S *MY* JOB TO WORRY ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND DAMMIT!"

"Oh, nevermind, I see what you mean." Shinji nodded and there was the barest hint of a smirk on Kuchiki's face.

Yachiru sniffled, tearing up with rage. "WHAT? I'M NOT ALLOWED TO WORRY ABOUT YOU!?"

"YOU CAN WORRY ALL YOU WANT BUT YOU CAN'T RISK YOUR HIDE FOR MY SAKE, THAT'S NOT HOW IT FUCKING WORKS-!" he roared, jabbing his finger at Yachiru.

"Can I have a juice?" the teal-haired toddler asked from Zaraki's hip.

"-In a minute Yachiru, I need to-" Kenpachi started and stopped. He blinked a few times, then slowly turned to frown at Nel, then at Yachiru, then back at Nel, pointing between the two girls and expression shifting from rage to utter confusion.

"Did you see another abandoned baby and just pick it up because it was Yachiru-shaped and Neon Colored?" Kuchiki called, teasing.

Kenpachi looked up at him, bewildered "MAYBE??" and Yachiru rolled her eyes behind him.

"That’s the most 'Raised By Birds' thing you’ve done in a while." Kuchiki laughed, getting up to peer down at Nel with curiosity.

"Raised by WHAT?" Shinji asked, jogging up after him.

Kenpachi Stood up straight, shaking his shoulders like he was ruffling feathers. "One, I’m not putting her back, two, who the fuck are these assholes?" He asked, gesturing at Shinji and the other Visored who had started to gather in the rubble to catch their breath after the battle.

"Remember how half the captains had fallen in battle or otherwise vanished before you showed up?" Byakuya asked.

"No, because I wasn’t there." Huffed Kenpachi, rifling through his Kosode and producing a Juice Box for Nel. "-but I remember Ikkaku complaining about the employee turnover."

"-AND I WAS RIGHT!" Ikkaku bellowed from his stretcher behind them, too injured to stand but not about to stop fighting, as expected of someone wearing the 11th Division's lieutenant insignia.

"YOU'RE STILL IN DEEP SHIT FOR THAT BANKAI THING, CUEBALL." Zaraki holled back at his lieutenant, who only turned his head away, sulking.

"Apparently the assorted missing officers weren’t dead, they just caught an artificially induced case of hollowfication from Aizen, but managed to survive and stayed out here in the living world to recover and learn to control their abilities out of sight from him." Kuchiki explained. Beside them, meaningful eye contact was exchanged between father and daughter, and he gave her a juice box as well. "Tactical." Zaraki nodded approvingly. "Also, non-zero chance The Old Man would have killed y'all on sight."

"Er. Yeah." Shinji winced, looking over his shoulder to where a surprisingly non-apocalyptic-looking Captain-General was discussing something with Unohana.

"This man specifically is is Hirako Shinji, Aizen’s former boss." Kuchiki continued, introducing them properly. "Captain Hirako, Captain Zaraki."

"Hiya!" Shinji grinned, holding out a hand for Zaraki to shake, but instead, he too was handed a juice box.

Kenpachi eyed Shinji in a not precisely hostile but still unnerving manner, as he offered Kuchiki a juice box as well and when turned down, opened it for himself and drank, studying him.

"…This explains six or seven things." Zaraki finally spoke, nodding sagely.

Shinji glared up at the giant. "Excuse me?"

Kuchiki waved a hand between Shinji and Zaraki. "I promise, it’s technically a compliment."

"Yeah, if Ken-chan didn't like you, you wouldn't have a head right now." Yachiru giggled.

"Mostly explains the two sets of teaspoons in the 5th division break room." Zaraki nodded, holding his hands out to his sides. "You're, whatsit- tiger-tiger thing?"

"Huh?" Puzzled Shinji.

"Symmetry?" Tried Kuchiki. "I do recall Captain Hirako having immense talent with mirroring and reversing text and other things."

"That's the bitch!" Zaraki grinned. "Not a bad idea though, you always have enough spoons."

"Huh. I guess so?" Shinji pondered, eyeballing Zaraki in turn. "Kenpachi, so you're captain of the 11th? If I remember correctly, Kiganjo was the tenth Kenpachi- so how many Kenpachis did we run through while I was away?"

"Just him for the last century. Only the two serious challenges to his post." Kuchiki explained, looking almost... proud? There were strange political currents swirling here, leaving Shinji feeling adrift.

"For real?" Shinji asked with genuine admiration. Outside of statistical outliers like Unohana and The Old Man, it was rare for a captain to hold their post for more than two centuries, and the average in the 11th more like 60 years.

Kenpachi waved his hand noncommitally. "One and a half. Tetsuzaimon Iba was really challenging his Mother by proxy." he corrected, head tilting with a jingle and Shinji realized the vertiginous hairstyle was there to support a dozen or so small bells, before the rest of the sentence caught up with him.

"Tetsuzaimon?" Shinji blinked. "Wasn't that what Chikane Iba was going to call her son?

"Yah." Zaraki nodded, sounding like a sleigh full of presents.

Shinji stared blankly. "But- but- She was still pregnant when I.. left? He’s an infant!

"Nah, Lieutenant Iba's a whole-ass man now." Zaraki looked over his shoulder. "Ay Iba-" he called to a robust man with sunglasses wearing the 7th Division's lieutenant's badge, currently engaged in picking up Ikkaku and moving him out of the way for the 4th division triage. "-How come you're spotless when my vice looks like someone fucked up at the abattoir?"

"Hi Captain Zaraki!" Iba waved back, , Ikkaku slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "It's because he's a fucking idiot, sir!"

"FUCK YOU!" Ikkaku shrieked, flipping them off from where he hung awkwardly over his friend's shoulder.

"FUCK ME YOURSELF YOU COWARD!" Zaraki bellowed back.

Shinji watched the spectacle with wide eyes, slowly coming to an unpleasant realization, before slowly putting a hand on Kuchiki’s shoulder. "…Sojun." He sighed, using his colleauges given name with heavy morose. "I’m afraid we may be Old Men now."

Kuchiki turned and blinked at him, confused. "I’m Byakuya."

It was Shinji's turn to stare in confusion. "...Kuchiki Byakuya isn't even in the Academy yet?"

"No, I'm a captain now. Sojun, my father, died shortly after your disappearance." Apparently-Byakuya explained, arching a concerned eyebrow down at him.

"Fucking what." Shinji said flatly, feeling like he'd been drained of all color and redrawn with a sharpie by someone's off-hand.

"HAH!" Barked Zaraki. "Yer Old Fart, Tiger."

Byakuya scoffed up at Zaraki. "What’s that make you then?"

"An Ancient and Revered Relic, thank you." Kenpachi said, puffing up his chest in mock-pride.

"What's going on?" Nel asked Yachiru in a loud whisper.

"Bowlcut here is an old fart who is just now realizing that he's an old fart, but he’s younger than me, so he’s also a baby." Yachiru explained. "Either way, impressive bowel control for his age!"

"HEY!" Yelped Shinji.

"Drink ya Battle Victory juice, Tiger." Zaraki said, giving Shinji a consoling pat on the shoulder.

"...It's a bitter Juicy Juice I drink this day." Shinji sighed, disconsolately stabbing the box with the straw and drinking with despair.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #fanfic writer ask game #zaraki kenpachi #shinji hirako #byakuya kuchiki #yachiru kusajishi #nelliel tu odelschwanck #long post #it's funny under the cut I promise #I love subjecting shinji to conversations that are like being hit with multiple baseball bats repeatedly

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aonungslvr · 1 year ago

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Kiri x sibling reader who struggles with being an outsider and feels alone?

an extra finger to hold

pairing ; sister! kiri te suli kìreysì’ite x gn!sibling! reader

taggings ; 🪽🍄🐚🫧

notes ; my first request! tysm for this, and i’m so sorry it’s short! this was written in some of my classes and i don’t have much free time lately! i am expecting a break from the workload soon though so i’ll be more consistent then!

summary ; kiri has noticed her younger sibling distancing themself from everything and finally steps up.

1.4k words

you were the third sully child, older then lo’ak and tuk yet younger then neteyam and kiri. of course, this made you the middle child. on top of that, you had inherited your fathers extra finger, eyebrows, and low set queue.

your brother, lo’ak, and sister, kiri, had also received these traits. however, they had gained their mothers higher queue. neteyam and tuk also had your fathers queue. this left you with the most human traits among your siblings.

being the olo’keytans child did not save you from the relentless teasing from other navi children. pureblood navi children. when you were younger the bullying was more commonly said to your face in harsh remarks.

“look! they have an extra finger!”

“that’s so weird…they’re a demon!”

the words were said with laughter, but that didn’t help you. now that you’ve grown slightly older, nearing fifteen, the navi teens hid their torment. words were spoken between shushed whispers and behind hands.

“have you seen them up close? they have hair above their eyes…”

“they kinda look like a prolemuris, right?”

whenever you’d look their way they would avert their eyes and carrying on with whatever they were doing, as if nothing had happened.

you stopped attending your healing lessons after the navi girls there had been snickering at you, much to kiris dismay.

once the warriors and hunters in training caught wind of your strange features, they too made fun of them behind your back. eventually you left training as well, which your father did not agree with but was unable to ever find you and force your bow into your hand.

you spent most of your days strolling through pandoras endless forest. the great mother was the only one who had seized to make fun of you. eywa had chosen your father. he was a blessing. that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

you weren’t only left out of your clan but your family too. neteyam was the eldest, he is the most responsible and mature. kiri has such a wonderful connection to eywa. lo’ak is the trouble maker. tuktirey is the baby of the family. so what were you? the most human like navi on pandora? that’s the life you were given if you were to return to home, so you remained in the forest. alone.

despite being alone for most of the day, you still had to go home when night fell. everyone was always so occupied, nobody had the time for you.

your father is olo’keytan, he is planning attacks on the humans. your mother is tsakarem, she must care for tuk. your brothers are going at each others heads, lo’ak wreaking havoc and neteyam fixing it. kiri…what does kiri do?

you were stuck in the loop of your normal life. wake up, maybe eat breakfast, then leave home before anyone had time to ask questions.

you were currently avoiding bow training with your father and brothers, so you cruised through pandoras forest. the flora and fauna never upset you, no matter how many times you had seen it.

you’ve always been jealous of kiris connection to the moon you lived on. she was a blessing from eywa. your father and sister had been blessed, why weren’t you?

not a day goes by where you don’t think about what it would be to be normal. to shave your eyebrows and cut off your pinkies. of course you’d thought about it before, you had messily cut the hair above your eyes when you were younger, and binded your pinky and ring finger together.

other times, you would go out in the clan with your face covered, not revealing your hands and get treated normal for once. you had gotten genuine greetings that day. the sarcastic “i see you”s weren’t the same, you had only received those because you had been with your family, the leaders. when you’re alone you go ignored.

you had tried your best to stay away from where the warriors would be training but there were some stragglers every here and there. you moved on quickly so they couldn’t see who you were. you stopped in your tracks while passing some teenager na’vi behind a tree as you heard your name being spoken.

“(y/n)? well thank eywa they aren’t here today either. i don’t know why their allowed to train. probably giving our secrets to the humans.”

the second boy laughed and added onto what his friend had said, “bro! their probably some sort of spy! do we even know if they’re actually half navi? what if they’re some dreamwalker the humans sent to watch over us..”

“right! that’s what i’ve been saying! let’s be honest, if they weren’t the olo’keytans child, they’d be exciled.”

the boys laughed with each other and you made your exit before you could be seen. it wasn’t the first time you had been made fun of but something about this was different. you weren’t sad. you didn’t feel the need to break out into tears. you had expected all of this, how could you truly be upset?

you entered back into the forest with a solid expression. no tears, no frowns, just there. and as you sat on the grass, for once you didn’t wish to be normal. you didn’t wish to be respected. you wished to be gone.

“i am fine sa’nu. i am just going to head to bed, i’m tired and not hungry.”

your father chuckled at this, “tired from what? not training?”

“your grandmother tells me you have been skipping out on healing, what are you doing with this time (y/n)?” your mother added on.

your siblings weren’t focused on the conversation, they were talking amongst themselves. except kiri. kiri was listening.

“it is no big deal, i am staying busy throughout the day. now if you don’t mind, i’m going to sleep.”

if you were being honest, you wanted them to stop you. you wanted them to be worried and make you stay with them.

just before your mother was about to protest, tuk had ran to her crying.

“sa’nu lo’ak hit me!! look right here! look he hit me!”

your parents attention left you. jake scolded his sons and neytiri comforted her daughter. what about you? you raced off into your separate room, tears threatening to spill. this is how it always is. you finally have the slightest bit of attention and then your siblings rips it away. nobody is ever-

“(y/n)?”

it was kiri. she had entered your room just as you stormed off as tears fell. you quickly wiped away what you could without looking like you were just crying.

“kiri what are you doing here? tuk is crying you should go help her.”

“my sibling is crying. i’m staying with you.” she pushed herself onto your hammock where you laid.

“i’m not crying, truly.”

“i may not be the smartest but i am certainly not foolish. especially when it comes to my families well-being.”

you sniffled and looked away from her. how were you supposed to face her? everyone in your family had so many things going on, things they needed to handle, but here you are. crying over nothing.

kiri gripped your face and faced it back towards herself, “what troubles you?”

you paused for a moment and just stared into her eyes. you didn’t want to tell anyone, you weren’t going to. something about staring into your sisters eyes awakened something. she cared. you have someone who cares.

you broke out into gentle sobs as you told her everything, “kiri my life is awful. it’s horrible. everyone sees me as a demon, i am just like the humans. i’m not even true na’vi. i don’t belong here. i have too many fingers and toes, hair where it doesn’t belong, my queue is too low, nothing i do is right. there is no place for me in this family, i have no purpose here.”

your sister didn’t flinch. she held your face and moved on to hugging you as you continued. you fell into your big sisters embrace and continued crying and ranting. she brushed your braids out of your face and kissed your forehead. as you cried and held onto her it became clearer in your mind, you had kiri.

you had wondered what kiri’s role was in your family. an olo’keytan, a tsakarem, a responsible brother, a trouble maker brother, a baby daughter. that left you and kiri. you had believed you and kiri were both left out, sepreate from the family. but it wasn’t you, and kiri. it was you and kiri. you didn’t have an all loving clan, and you didn’t have the perfect family, but you had your sister. and right here, right now, she was all you needed.

#kiri sully #kiri #kiri te suli kìreysì'ite #kiri x reader #platonic kiri x reader #platonic #x reader #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #platonic fanfiction #sibling reader #co writes !!

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archiveoftara · 1 year ago

Text

Sober

In the midst of the cold night, You swung an arm on your shoulder while Lucy took the other one. George was at the back, paying the bartender.

"I can hold my liquor jusssst fine, '' a drunk Lockwood yelled.

"Sorry about that." You apologise to the people in the pub.

An hour ago, you received a call from a certain Fittes agent. It was Quill Kipps, your friend from Fittes and Lockwood's enemy (his words, not yours).

"I feel weird-" before Lockwood could finish his sentence, he threw up.

"That's my new shoes, Jesus Lockwood"

............................................................................

So, here you are, holding a very drunk and heavy Lockwood, outside the pub. You huffed while waiting for Lucy who went to fetch a cab and also to avoid babysitting drunk Lockwood.

"What were you guys even up to?" You looked at the blonde guy.

"Just a friendly game." He avoids your eyes.

"It was a bet Kipps. You told me I can't handle my liquor and I said bring it on. In your face sucker. I am super fine." Lockwood yells. You gave a look to both the lads.

But you were glad that he was under Kipps watch. He was safe. That's all that matters to you.

"Okay. I did say that but I was joking I didn't know he was gonna take it seriously."

"Kipps you know how competitive he gets." You sighed. "But thank you for taking care of him. I owe you mate."

Kipps shrugged and gave you a hug before making his way home.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?" His voice trailed.

Your breath hitched. To your relief Lucy comes up with the cab, just in time. The whole party went home.

Lockwood chatted the whole ride. It took every ounce of your strength to not punch him in the face. You thank the lord when the cab reaches home.

You and George helped him to his room where George practically threw him on the bed. George excused himself which leaves you and Lockwood alone.

You slowly start to take off his shoes and pull the blanket to tuck him in when he holds your hand.

"I like the way your hands fit in mine." He pulls you in his arms. "And you're so prettyyyy and your cheeks are so soft" he whines while squishing your face.

"Lockwood, you're really drunk. Go to bed." You blush.

"Nooo, y/n promise me you won't hate me." He raised his pinky finger.

"Okay I promise." You pinky promised him like a kid.

"The day you stepped into this house I knew I had to keep my distance from you."

You frowned.

"Listen carefully, you. Ms. Y/n y/l/n broke every single wall I made, brick by brick you broke it. I am not capable of love. All the people I've loved have left me. I didn't want to go through the same pain again. I built a wall to protect my heart but you shined through it. You told me once, it's a small life we should not waste it. So I'm taking your advice."

He clear his throat

"Y/n y/l/n, I am in love with you. I am deeply, madly in love with you." His face was red.

You froze for a moment, you were in love with him for a long time but you were too shy to ask him out but instead of being happy, you felt a rage inside you.

"Real sweet but I wish you were sober. Sleep, you need rest." With that you left his room.

That night you couldn't sleep. His words were ringing in your head. It felt like a stab in your heart. His drunk confession didn't hold any meaning to you.

..............................................................................

Next morning, the agent woke up with a hangover. He found some medicine with a note beside his bed.

Drink up. - y/n

A soft smile spread across his face as he ascends to the kitchen but to his disappointment it was empty. In fact, the whole house was empty.

Where did everyone go?

The click of the door brought his attention, he saw the girl of his dream standing in front of the kitchen

"Oh you're awake." You said in a dry tone.

Lockwood's smile falters a bit but he doesn't get it into his head.

"Thanks for the medicine." He whispered.

"Have this. You must be hungry." You gently gave him some breakfast before making your way out of the kitchen when you heard him call your name.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes." You avoid his eyes.

"Did I..do something wrong?"

You replied with a no, still refusing to look at him. "I have to go, I'll see you later" you hastily left, leaving a confused Lockwood.

It was at the evening, when Lockwood couldn't take the silent treatment anymore and barged into your room (his words, not mine), he knocked at your door, softly and patiently waited for you.

"Come in" a soft voice answered.

He saw you scribbling on your journal. When his eyes met yours you quickly shut your journal and straighten up.

"Hi" you replied in high pitched voice.

"I wanted to ask you something." He built up his courage before spilling all his feelings.

"Are you alright? Because I got a glimpse of last night and all I remember is I puked on your new shoes. I'm so sorry y/n, I will make it up to you I promise-"

"Lockwood, I'm afraid you did lot more than puking on my shoes." His eyes widened and he thinks hard about the events that took place last night.

After a moment of silence you sigh "Last night you said something which I didn't expect. You said you love me and you tried to keep your distance from me. I'm sorry for breaking your walls."

"I wish you were honest. Your drunk confession felt like a joke to my feelings."

Lockwood carefully takes your hand "It wasn't a joke y/n. I genuinely love you. I planned to tell you in a much more civil and nicer way but.. anyways, the point is I love you y/n y/l/n, and it would be an honour to be loved by you."

You broke into a light chuckle before saying yes. He lightly caresses your cheeks, asking for your consent (CUZ CONSENT IS SEXY BABY) before leaning for a kiss. With feather light touch and tender kisses, you both got lost into each other's company.

"FINALLY"

A voice came behind you, startling you both in the process. George and Lucy came out of nowhere.

"Were you guys listening to us the whole time?" Lockwood raised his eyebrows.

"You guys finally did it. George owes me 20 pounds." Lucy ignores the question, while George hands her a fresh note.

"I can't believe this." You pointed at your friends who made a bet on you guys.

"And I still can't believe you're my girlfriend." You blushed at him.

"Thanks for puking on my leg Lockwood, it was romantic." You made fun of the situation.

"Oh god."

But it was safe to say you both were secretly glad of him getting drunk.

*Bonus*

You: no more drinking games for you.

Lockwood: yes ma'am. 🫡

Hello, I'm back from the pits of hell. What did I miss? I had this story sitting on my Google doc for a long time and I thought to finish it and post it before I look at it for too long and burn it. Hopefully you like it!! Do let me know in the comments. Xoxo

#fandom #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #fanfic #locknation #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #save lockwood and co #anthony bloody lockwood

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moonxmagix · 2 years ago

Text

Dad's Best Friend NSFW

Pairing: Frank Iero x Fem Reader

TW: smut 18+, age gap

Summary: You and Frank have a magnetizing pull to each other. Who will crack first under pressure? Like the title says, you're fucking your dad's best friend. Will you get caught?

A/N: part two is posted pls check it out 🥹

My dads friend was special. I’d frequently stand propped up against the door frame exchanging stares between him and I. I’d wear a shorter skirt or dress that day just when he was around. I was a tease, I’ll admit. When I turned 18, now 19, I’d really never had sexual desire for men or boys my age. I had never thought about a man as much as I did Frank. I'd frequently write in my journal about him and write his name over and over again until my wrist would give out.

Luckily Frank was over all of the time which means I got to see him and watch him glare at me and my body. It was like a game to see who would crack first. One day my father, known as Gerard Way, came up to me and told me to get ready for dinner. “Are we going out?” I asked. “Yeah, get dressed please. We’re leaving in 20,” my father said, kissing me on the head.

I stayed calmed on the outside but on the inside I squealed. I ran to my closet and picked out something simple but hot. Usually after we eat we go out to do something like an arcade. I remember one time we went and Frank won me a cute Hello Kitty plush.

I wore a System of a Down t-shirt, black jean skirt, converse, and silver chain necklace. For makeup all I did was tight line my eyes, added blush, highlight, mascara, and a lip gloss. Didn’t wanna go too heavy. I looked at myself one more time before I left my room and felt contempt with how I looked.

I walked out of my room and my dad saw my shirt, “Did you steal that out of my closet?” I frequently took things out of there because he had shirts of bands I really liked. He introduced me to them, “Possibly,” I said with a smile.

We went to the car and headed to the food place to meet everyone there. I got out of the car and fixed up my appearance a bit, I saw that Ray and Mikey brought their kids who I was kinda friends with but they were a lot younger than me. Frank didn’t have kids, which sucked because I could’ve used them to my advantage to get closer to him but I’ll play the hard game.

“What’s up? Good to see you again Y/N,” Frank said to me. I haven’t seen him in a few weeks because he’s been touring a bit doing solo projects. His breath smelled of mint gum.

He hugged me for a little longer and squeezed tightly. Whenever he did those things it never came off strange or weird to the people around us. We were all very affectionate towards each other considering how close everyone was.

We walked into the restaurant and my dad and I sat at complete opposite ends of the table. Frank sat near the edge of the booth and I sat next to him with Ray next to me. Everyone talked amongst themselves and I sat quietly, I wasn’t much of a talker especially around a large group of people. Anxious people problems.

I think Frank noticed and whispered in my ear, “You alright?” He had a look of slight concern on his face. “Yeah,” I whispered back, nodding. "I've got ya," he said reassuringly. We both turned our attention back to the table when I felt something poke my thigh.

It was Frank's pinky finger gently rubbing my thigh and the edge of my skirt. Chills ran down my back and all over my arms. He slowly but surely worked his entire hand on my thigh, I could feel his cold rings rubbing against me which made my legs get chills.

He left his hand there and rubbed his thumb, it was driving me crazy. I was so desperate for him, in need of his touch. Oh how I’ve been waiting for this for so long and it is finally here.

We ate our food and I stole a few bites from both Ray and Frank's plate. After I finished I felt a bit tired and rested my head on Frank’s shoulder. I started to fall asleep and took a good 30 minute nap. God these people talk a lot. I woke up and yawned, “Someone’s tired,” Frank said teasingly. “Nah, just bored and ready to party,” I said jokingly. Which he chuckled at.

After that we drove to the arcade, this is my chance to get him alone. This place is dark and huge so I have plenty of places to hide both of us in.

We all kinda went our own way after getting cards to swipe on the machine. I told my dad I was gonna go to certain machines but I wanted to scope things out, but not too suspiciously. If I can’t find anything then to the bathroom it is!

I see Frank playing a game and I go to the one next to it, skeeball. I started playing and bent down to pick up the ball and made sure he could see under my skirt. I made sure to wear skimpy underwear for him. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

I finished playing and before I could leave I felt a body stand behind but next to me. I turn to see Frank and my cheeks turn red, “You think you can tease me like that?” he whispers in my ear. “N-no sir, I’m just playing the game,” I was so flustered. “Game my ass, come with me,” he said, pulling my hand.

He took me to the family bathroom and locked the door immediately. He pushed me against the wall and our lips met, I was hungry. Our tongues fought for dominance and I moaned into the kiss. “I’ve waited for you to make the first move, Y/N,” He said, pulling my skirt down.

He turned me around and pulled my underwear down sliding himself into me. He told me to keep my moans quiet so he covered my mouth. Frank took my virginity. I can't believe it. Something about it was so hot and risky.

“You’re mine, you’re fucking mine Y/N,” he said while pounding me until my legs were shaking profusely. I came all over him and he pulled out. We cleaned ourselves up and went to the pizza bar as a cover.

We got our pizza then went to sit down at a table, a part of me was scared to be alone with him but this is what I’ve wanted for so long. We sat at a table and I was way too nervous to talk, “Don’t be so shy baby,“ he winked. “Sorry, I can’t help it,” I smiled slightly. “I had fun,” I said.

He smiled, “Me too! We’ll do it more,” he said, winking at me. It kinda shocked me, does he want this as much as I do? I could only hope so. After that we went back to the arcade and finished playing games. Thankfully no one suspected us or where we went.

We walked to the car and my dad stopped to ask me something, I felt my stomach drop to my ass and I expected him to ask where we went. But instead he asked me if it was alright if Frank stayed a few nights with us in-between his tour. “Yeah I don’t see why not,” I said shrugging. Fuck yeah. But also huh???

Frank got in the car with us and I had to sit in the back now, mostly on my phone while they both talked. We got home and I went to my room immediately, I was ready to get out of these clothes! I changed into some fluffy skull pajamas pants and a black tank top. I was blessed with a bigger chest and I knew Frank wouldn’t resist me when I looked like this. I washed my makeup off and threw my hair up in low pigtails.

I went down stairs into the kitchen to get a drink and ran into Frank making coffee for him and my dad. “You tease,” he said, pushing me against the counter pressing his lips to mine. He twirled my pigtails in between his hands and fingers, then moved them around my face.

He released and tapped me on the butt before grabbing the coffees and about to leave the room. He stood in the door frame and said, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight,” I said smiling.

~^~^~^~^

It was around 12 am and Frank still hasn't come around. I sat there in bed and sighed heavily, I wasn’t tired any bit so I decided to play a bit of guitar by the window. I decided to play Cherry by Harry Styles. It was such a comforting song to play and listen to, I’d hum along.

It wasn’t until I heard my door crack open and saw a familiar face. I motioned my hand to invite him in and he closed the door behind him quietly. He sat next to me, “What’cha playing?” he asked. “Just Harry Styles, I’ve been waiting for you,” I said, smiling at him, blushing. When he looked at me I felt my entire body glow with red and the warmth of a thousand suns.

“Oh really? I’m sorry it took so long, I’m here now sweetheart,” he said pushing my hair behind my ear. I sat my guitar down and he immediately grabbed my face with his tattooed hands. I grabbed his hand and took him to my bed. We laid next to each other just cuddling for a while until we made out once again.

It got heated pretty fast and next thing you knew all of my clothes were off and he was rubbing his warm, rough hands all over my body. He got down to my pussy, rubbing his fingers all around me, teasing me. “Frank please,” I begged. “Please what?” he smirked, inserting a finger. “Please sir, fuck me,” I said moaning quietly. He inserted another finger moving them quickly until I came everywhere on them.

“Open your mouth,” he said, so I did. He put both fingers in my mouth and told me to suck. I could see how hard he was under his pajama pants, he took them and told me to get on the floor on my knees. I opened my mouth for him, he took my hair in his fist and slowly inserted himself in my mouth. He pulled my face down on his cock, making me gag. I bobbed my head on his cock, making his head lean back in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” he said, which made me feel so giddy. I deepthroated his cock making him cum all down my throat. He tasted so sweet. I wish I could have this all of the time.

“Get back in bed,” he said, smacking my ass. As I was about to lay down he pulled my body into a doggy position. I shook my ass inticing him to fuck me, he inserted himself into me once again. Oh how I’ve been missing this feeling, I felt whole with him inside of me. “Fuck Y/N,” he moaned moving faster and faster. He put my arms behind my back pushing my head into the pillows with his other hand.

I was moaning pretty loud, “Shut the fuck up you slut. Shut that pretty mouth,” he growled. I shut my mouth, moaning into the pillows and sheets which muffled them by a lot. I came again, he then flipped us to where I was now riding him. My boobs bounced up and down and he grabbed them gripping hard, “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” Hearing those words made me go faster and harder on his cock. He was biting his fist, he smacked my boobs and played with my nipples which made me bite my lips.

“I’m about to cum,” he said. I got off and started sucking him off again so he’d cum in my mouth. He came in my mouth and we both collapsed next to each other. He got up and put his clothes back on and so did I. We snuggled up against each other and fell asleep. What a night.

I groaned as the sun flashed in my eyes. I rolled over to see the other side of the bed empty and the sheets pulled back. A small frown appeared on my face knowing I wouldn’t be waking up with him. I reached for my phone on the nightstand but felt a piece of paper on it, it read;

I’m sorry I left you all alone this morning but I had to go. I got a call unexpectedly and I have silly tour stuff to do. I miss you already. Make sure not to tell anyone about our special night and our special relationship. ;) I left you a few cigarettes too, text me when you wake up. Frank xo

I folded the paper up and slid it into my journal.

#frank iero imagine #frank iero fanfic #frank iero fanfiction #frank iero #mychemicalromance #my chem frank #mcr frank #smut #mcr smut #18+ fic #mcr fanfiction #mcr fanfic #mcr shitpost #frank iero smut

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whositmcwhatsit · 2 years ago

Text

Cherry Pie Delight

It is the hot, long summer of 1956 and Annie's best friend Margie has discovered a new singer that is not only handsome, but can sing, move, AND lives in their home town. They have to go see him and find out what the fuss is about.

Note: Just a little one shot to help me get baby Elvis fangirl vibes out my head.

Words: 5283- Look, it's short!

The first time I saw Elvis Presley was a fiercely hot summer afternoon when I was seventeen years old. My best friend Margie had seen him on Milton Berle’s show and declared herself in love. Not only was he famous, not only could he sing, not only could he move, but he lived in our town. It was meant to be, Margie declared.

“You know, his favourite colours are pink, blue and black,” Margie recited, face deep in the music magazine she had brought with her as we waited at the fence of this regular ranch style house. We were not alone, there were almost a dozen other girls about our age lingering and fizzing with anticipation.

I looked at Margie in askance.

“Well, my favourite colour is pink! We’re so alike.”

“Uh huh.” I bet they both loved breathing air and eating food too.

The sun was beating down on us, I could feel sweat soaking the back of my blouse and my skirt was starting to stick to my thighs. Some of the other girls left, going home to sip cold drinks and lay on linoleum next to electric fans. Margie wouldn’t hear of it, begging for ten more minutes over and over.

Finally, eventually, there was movement out by the carport. The remaining girls, Margie included, started bobbing on their toes, leaning over the fence and not caring that the metalwork poked, prodded and dirtied their blouses.

Eventually a tall boy came wandering out towards the fence. He was wearing a motorcycle cap like Marlon Brando and a strange green shirt with laces. I looked to Margie, eyebrows twisted in a question. Him? Really?

“Hi there, girls, what are y’all up to?” he asked. His voice was higher than I had expected and he sounded real country to my sophisticated town ears. The girls all tittered and blushed.

“Well, they’re all about melting out here waiting for you obviously,” I said in exasperation. He gave them a bashful smile that allowed me a glimpse of what had turned them into giggling fools. The boy had a good smile that made my stomach warm in a way that had nothing to do with the heat.

“Not you though, honey? What’re you doin’ here then?” He leant on the fence in front of me, squinting slightly in the sun. The light glinted off his pinky ring and watch as he rested his forearm on the scrollwork. I became very aware that his hand was almost brushing my arm.

“It’s Margie’s car,” I shrugged. “We go where Margie wants.” He snorted at the irritation in my voice and revealed the curves of his cheekbones as he stuck the tip of his tongue between his teeth.

“Lucky for me,” he murmured. Then he moved off to sign some pictures for the other girls, leaving me to wonder whether he had really said what I thought he said. I watched him talk to each of the girls, flashing them all that blinding smile that lit up his face, and smashing his pouty lips against their round cheeks so hard that it squashed their faces for a moment.

Suddenly he was back, his hand dangling promisingly close to the hairs on my arm that were already standing on end. I stared at the diamond studded horseshoe ring on his pinky finger, breathing through my mouth.

“How about you, honey? You got something for me to put my scribble on?” I frowned, looking down at myself.

“I don’t have any paper,” I answered finally, feeling like a fool.

“Aw, doesn’t have to be paper. Why, just the other day some little gal got me to sign her… her… arm.” The look on his face made it very clear that it had not been her arm.

“Won’t that just wash off?” I asked dubiously.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “but then you’ll have to come back. I got it all figured out, honey.” He winked and a weird, mindless giggle escaped me before I snapped my mouth shut.

There was a long pause. There was no way I was going to let him write on my skin, my mother would have a fit. I had already had to lie to her about where I was going. Showing up uninvited at someone’s house was up there with murder in my mother’s notion of sins.

He was tapping the metalwork on the fence, his long fingers as drumsticks, before he gripped hold and used it to help him balance as he swung back slightly, looking over his shoulder at his house. He reminded me of a little kid, a tall, handsome little kid.

“You know, I think I have some pictures up in the house,” he said slowly, like he was waiting for me to stop him. “Wanna come with me, honey, while I dig ‘em out? My folks are home.”

I almost answered too quickly, but then I remembered Margie, who was standing a few feet behind me, her eyes searing into the back of my sunburned neck.

“Can my friend come?”

“Sure. Huh, so it turns out that Margie goes where… What’s your name, honey?”

“Annie.” He held out his hand, palm up and I awkwardly placed mine on top, wondering what was going on.

“Hi Annie, I’m Elvis.” He lifted my hand and pressed his lips against my fingers. It was the corniest move and I wanted to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t quite get my mind working right feeling those soft, warm lips on my skin.

We trailed Elvis as he walked in an easy long stride up the driveway, passing under a car port that looked a lot like ours at home with a sack of dog kibble by the back door next to some muddy boots. Except for the Harley Davidson motorcycle and Cadillacs.

In the yard, my first impression was of a lot of mud. A huge hole had been dug in the ground and there was digging equipment and a cement mixer scattered about. Elvis tried to look casual as he told us that they were digging a pool, his voice all off-hand, but you could tell he was proud of it. He directed us over to a white table and some chairs on the patio.

“Take a seat, ladies, I’ll be right back.” We watched him disappear through the screen door and into the house.

There still wasn’t much shade at the back of the house, though Margie was luckier as she was in the shadow of the roof overhang. She didn’t look any cooler than me though, her face like stone as she stared.

“What?” I whispered guiltily. She didn’t replied, she didn’t need to.

The next thing I knew, an older lady was coming out through the door with a tray. She was wearing a pale blue dress and had dark hair, and something about the eyes told me that this was Elvis’s mother. Elvis was just behind her, holding the door open.

“Hello,” she smiled. We sat up straight like she might be able to stare straight through our red faces into our shameful minds. “Elvis was telling me about how far you gals came just to visit with us. My goodness, your mothers must be worrying themselves sick about you!”

Standing behind her, Elvis was nodding emphatically with his eyes wide, trying to get us to play along. Frowning at him, my head started to move up and down too.

“Yes, ma’am,” I murmured. “I mean, no, ma’am.”

“Are you sure? You know, I could call them on the telephone and let them know that y’all are here and safe? I really think I should.” Oh dear Lord, no!

“There’s no-one home right now, ma’am,” Margie put in quickly. Fast-thinker that one.

“Baby, the lemonade,” Elvis murmured, leaning over her shoulder. She blinked and offered us each a glass of cloudy lemonade with condensation trickling down the slightly misty glass. I almost spilled it down my front in my haste to get it to my mouth.

“This is delicious, ma’am, thank you,” I gasped after I had drank nearly three quarters of the glass at once. Elvis was still at his mother’s shoulder, smiling approvingly at us.

“You’re probably hungry too. Lord, are you sure there is no one I can call?”

“We’re about ready to head home soon, ma’am,” I promised. “Thank you though.”

“Well, let me get you some cookies at least. If you were my children, why I’d hope that someone would take care of you .”

When she had gone back inside, Elvis grinned, looking very pleased with himself.

“You shouldn’t have lied to your mama,” I said disapprovingly. “We don’t want to put her out.”

“Aw, she likes it,” he returned dismissively. “You want a tour?” I downed the rest of my lemonade as we rose from the table and followed Elvis into the house.

It took a moment for our eyes to adjust, the blinds were all drawn closed, making the interior dark and a little gloomy. Elvis walked fast, making big movements with his arms as he showed off the living room, where I spotted several pictures of a girl with dark hair, the kitchen, the family room, as well as some of the bedrooms. The tour ended in his bedroom.

I thought he was kidding at first, because it didn’t look like his room. It didn’t look like any boy’s room. The wallpaper was pink and flowery- Margie probably loved it- and was complimented by the rosebud bedspreads on the twin beds. All around the walls were large angel ornaments on a blue background. And the room was completely surrounded by teddy bears.

“Don’t you feel like they’re always watching you?” I asked, glancing around nervously. He laughed, a playful hiccup of a laugh.

“Maybe I like ‘em watching,” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

I didn’t know what he meant, but I suspected it was dirty and I flushed, turning to grab Margie’s wrist. I wasn’t about to stand in his bedroom if he was going to be crude with us.

“Hey, I’m only kidding, honey,” he said, pinching hold of my skirt at the hip. “Don’t go. You wanna take one?” He spread his arm wide. “I got plenty, you can both have one.”

I shot him one last warning look and then went to examine a cluster of teddies by the dresser. There was the cutest little black bear with a red ribbon around its neck. Margie chose a large bear with black button eyes and a light brown tummy.

Margie asked if she could use the bathroom and Elvis directed her to one down the hall. As soon as she was gone, he picked up one of the bigger bears and started to make it ‘talk’. He was being such a goof, making the bear say corny stuff about how I was pretty and how he- the bear- wanted to kiss me. Suddenly, he made the bear dive headfirst towards me and I shrieked, putting my hands up to protect my face.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll protect you,” he said, tossing the bear onto the bed and wrapping his arms around my waist.

He held me tight, much tighter than the boys usually did when we danced down by the river at the bandstand in the park on a Saturday afternoon. I stared up into his face, noticing how incredibly long his eyelashes were and how his eyes were dark blue rather than brown like I first thought.

When he finally kissed me it was fast and chaste like being pecked by a little bird. He pulled back, frowning as if to check my reaction, and I smiled to show him that I didn’t mind. This time, he put his palm against my cheek; it felt clammy, but that could have just been my sun warmed cheek. His lips were softer than any other boy’s I had kissed, though that was not saying much.

His brows drew together as he pulled away, sucking in first his bottom and then his top lip.

“Hey, that tastes delicious, what is that?”

“Oh, my lipstick.” I flushed, feeling like a stupid little girl playing dress up. “It’s flavoured. It’s supposed to be-“

“Cherry… right?”

“Uh huh.” He squeezed me tight again, his lips opening as he licked and nibbled and sucked on my mouth. Something was happening to my body, I thought I might be having a heart attack but all over. I shoved him back.

“You’re not meant to eat it!” I gasped.

“Oh, trust me, darlin’, every inch of you is meant to be eaten.” His face was so close that I could only focus on his lips, plump, round and glistening with the remnants of my cherry pie delight.

He was still holding me when Margie returned. Her gaze crystallised with betrayal.

“We should go, it’s getting late,” she said.

I trailed after her as she walked through the dim shadowy hall down towards the family room and the back door. The air felt too full of unspoken words and that made it difficult to talk. Mrs Presley was still in the kitchen and she handed us a paper sack of cookies for us to eat during our ‘long journey’. She made us promise to drive carefully and not get distracted by the radio or chatting.

As we crossed the patio, Elvis stopped us and went back to the table where he had some shiny photos of himself. He looked up at me and gave me a quick grin before huddling over the picture with a pen. His smile was flawless when he finally handed over the photo, but his cheeks were slightly pink. I glanced down.

‘Dear Annie, all my love and kisses, Elvis Presley.’

As we stepped out from under the carport and into the warm evening air, I had this overwhelming urge to show my gratitude. That afternoon would be a glistening glass bead that hung on the string of perfect memories I would carry with me, I felt sure of it. I rifled through my purse, pushing aside the signed picture and the little teddy bear.

“Here.” I felt silly as soon as I shoved the little tube into his hand. His eyes narrowed in bemusement, and he glanced down, his easy smile lighting up his face as he read the label at the end.

“Cherry Pie Delight.”

“Don’t eat it all at once,” I giggled, feeling smart and grown up. I could feel my back burning as I walked away, my sandals clopping on the path.

______________________________________________________________

The second time I saw Elvis Presley was in a movie theatre a month later. My friend and I each told our mothers that we were sleeping over at the other’s house. We thought we were geniuses.

I had never seen the place so packed, especially not for the movies we were supposed to be seeing. They were so good that I couldn’t remember what they were the next day.

Elvis didn’t show up until the lights had gone down and my stomach swooped in disappointment as I just saw a knot of shadowy figures move down the aisle on the far side of my row. It felt wrong, I knew something was supposed to happen. I knew it.

Just enjoy yourself, I tried to tell myself, you are eating popcorn, drinking soda, and watching movies for free. Count your blessings. That was enough, that was enough. It was not enough.

An odd, strangled sound came out of my mouth when I saw the shadowy figure moving up the aisle next to me. The height, the way he held his shoulders, the loose-hipped way he walked, there was no mistaking who it was. I held my breath as he approached, putting all of my life force into my eyes. Notice me, notice me, notice me. He passed by without a pause.

It wasn’t right. I felt like I had written a fairytale and, at the last minute, someone else was revealed as the princess and I was just an ordinary peasant with no lines. I angrily threw a piece of popcorn into my mouth, where it hit the back of my mouth and tried to escape down my windpipe. I choked, coughing and spluttering, finally sucking in air as it dislodged from my friend pounding on my back. As I blinked away the purple blobs in front of my eyes, I realised I wasn’t alone.

“Hey, cherry pie delight! I thought I saw ya there.” Elvis was crouched in the aisle by my chair. He gripped hold of my forearm on the armrest to keep his balance. “You okay, honey?”

Resigned to my new role as villager number 5 in my own story, I raised an eyebrow and said flatly, “You don’t remember my name, do you.”

“Baby, of course I do…” He was smiling, but he didn’t go on, because of course he didn’t. There had been thirty, fifty, one hundred different versions of me since then.

“It’s Annie.”

“I knew that, I was just testing ya.” He leant forward, pressed his lips against the curve of my ear, and sang a few lines of a song, ‘Work with me Annie, let’s get it while the getting’s good.” His voice, so plaintive and pleading in my ear, combined with the damp heat of his breath and the smell of him, sweetness and musk, made me feel like the seat I was squirming in had started melting.

“Well, I should be gettin’ back,” he said like he was chatting to a neighbour over the fence. He glanced down the aisle to where his date and his friends were sitting. “See ya later, Annie Pie Delight.”

My friend elbowed me, her eyes so wide that they flashed white even in the darkened theatre. I smiled, not needing to show my teeth, because I was mysterious and sophisticated now. Elvis Presley knew who I was. Sort of.

I couldn’t eat my popcorn, my fingers trembled when I dug my hand into the bucket and my stomach was twisted too tight anyway. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him down there in the dark, imagining a dark rope of longing knotted round my waist and tied to him.

Half the popcorn went on the floor when, out of nowhere, some tall, gangly boy with greased back hair tapped me on the shoulder.

“Hi there, Elvis wants to know if you wanna go for a ride.” It wasn’t really a question, we both knew that. I looked to my friend, who rolled her eyes in answer to the plea in mine. She snatched the popcorn from me before the rest ended up on the floor and almost threw me out of my seat.

The boy led me out to the foyer of the theatre, past the concessions. I could see the silhouettes of some unlucky fans standing by the glass doors, still hopeful that they would at least get to see their man at some point. When I was taken out of the side door and into the darkened parking lot, my neck began prickling with unease.

“Look, I’m not sure…” I felt so stupid. Some guy had probably seen Elvis stop and talk to me and had come to the conclusion that I was loose. And perhaps he was right if I rushed into this trap so willingly.

“Aw, don’t go getting cold feet on me now, Annie Pie, delight of my life.” A long shadow detached itself from the side of the building and stepped out into the pool of light by the side exit door. He adjusted the motorcycle cap on his head and grinned that lopsided smile, looking just like a picture on a record sleeve.

I hurriedly scanned the parking lot, checking that no one had heard him, knowing that as soon there was a whisper that he was out here, I would have lost him.

“I thought someone was pulling my leg,” I explained, glancing back to the boy, but he was already gone.

“Naw, I just gotta be sneaky if I want you to myself.” He came closer and my head tipped back trying to keep that face, that smile, in my sights. I felt him lock his arms around my waist, almost as tight as that invisible rope that we had between us, and jiggle me against him. A bolt of lightning ran up the inside of my thigh, terrifying me, though I didn’t know why.

“What about your date?” I asked, kicking myself. Don’t remind him, Annie, you fool!

“Well, I thought it would be better if it was just the two of us, baby, but if you want-“

“No!” I interjected, reaching out a hand to his chest and almost scrunched up his shirt in my fist. He smiled again, pressing his mouth against my cheek and nuzzling his nose along my temple.

“Then we’re on the same page, Annie Pie. C’mon, let’s go for a ride.” I shivered as he took my hand, his hot palm practically devouring me.

“Where’s your… car.” I exhaled as we stopped in front of a motorcycle. Even from ten miles away I could feel my mother’s horror. Annie Joan Hutchingson, don’t you dare!

“No car, baby, cars are for squares.” He winked as he walked round the bike.

I hesitated, imagining my mother finding out that I wasn’t actually sleeping over at my friend’s house when she was called to the hospital because I had been in a motorbike accident with Elvis Presley. If I didn’t die, she’d kill me.

“C’mon, honey, I’ll be Brando and you can be that sweet little gal he meets. You seen that movie, right?” He patted the seat behind him and pouted like I had the power to break his delicious heart.

“He rides a Triumph in that movie, not a Harley Davidson,” I said finally, tucking my skirt between my legs and awkwardly straddling the back of the bike. My thigh muscles contracted as they made contact with his butt, squeezing around his hips. A fire raged down my front, my nipples stiffened and tingled, and my belly clenched as my skirt slid on the leather seat, pushing my hips tighter into him.

“Huh, my girl knows her motorcycles,” he observed, sounding almost impressed. I didn’t tell him that no, actually I knew my fan magazines. “Hold on tight to me now, honey.”

The motorcycle roared into life, echoing around the parking lot, and bouncing off the nearby buildings. It matched perfectly to what was happening inside of me. With a jerk, we took off across the concrete, managing to cross the sidewalk and make it onto the road before the huddle at the front of the theatre understood what was happening.

The streetlights flickered by in a stream of colour as the wind caught my hair, my shirt and my skirt, making me billow and ruffle like I had wings. My fear of falling won out over my self-consciousness and I wrapped my arms around Elvis’s waist and draped myself against his slightly damp back like I had been poured there. With my cheek pressed tight between his shoulder blades, I could feel the steady, heavy thump of his heart and it mirrored the pulse between my legs. I pushed my hips forward slightly to relieve the ache and his stomach jolted beneath my fingers.

After a while, the spaces between the lights started to grow longer and Elvis steered the motorcycle off the road into a rest area. I tried to focus my eyes, adjusting to standing still, but I didn’t recognise where we were. Elvis, however, certainly seemed to know where he was, and he strolled over to a wooden picnic table, drumming his knuckles on it.

“I think you’re right,” I said, just to say something. “Motorcycles are much cooler than cars.” His lips spread into a smile, a secret, small one that revealed his dreamy cheekbones. He inclined his head, beckoning me over and I moved like he was tugging on that rope round my waist, helpless.

“There’s something about ‘em, ain’t there,” he murmured, as he placed his hands on my waist, one long finger at a time. “Get you all worked up, make you feel a little wild…”

He kissed me in an ambush and it didn’t feel like any other time before. My heart was racing as I tussled in his grip like my body was not sure if it was under attack. I got my forearms between us, shoving them against his chest until he stumbled back, breaking his lock on my waist.

We stared at each other, both of us panting. I thought he might be mad from the way that his eyes were narrowed on me, but I didn’t care because I thought I might be a little ticked off too, my jaw clenching and my muscles tensing like I wanted… something.

Slowly, his brow cleared and his eyes lightened again, twinkling in the moonlight.

“It’s okay, I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he said playfully. “C’mon Annie Pie, we’re all friends here.”

In spite of my misgivings and my throbbing heart, I moved back over to him. I didn’t have a choice. He rubbed his warm palm down from my shoulder to my wrist and back up again, really slowly and carefully.

“See, you’re okay, baby. It’s just me, just little ole Elvis.” He gave me an encouraging smile when I nodded and then he placed his fingertips under my chin.

When he stooped down, he moved really slow so that I went cross eyed as I watched his hooded eyes and his luscious lips grow closer, but he stopped when our lips were barely touching, the cold tip of his nose grazing against my cheek. I waited and he still didn’t move; didn’t say anything either.

I could smell the exotic tang from the grease and oil in his hair, hear the uneven drags of air he was taking in and letting out, and feel the firm muscles in his arms beneath his jacket. He was trembling.

We were in a dangerous situation, I knew that. I had known that ever since I stepped foot into the parking lot of the movie theatre, but I considered now if the reason that it was so dangerous was the man stood pressed up against me, or if I was the hungry tiger stalking her prey. Only one way to find out. I surged forward.

Inside I was roaring louder than any motorcycle, our lips dragging and sliding, and his tongue caressing mine. My hands, which had started out cupping his neck had gradually migrated down, palming his chest, the gentle curve of his stomach, moving round to his hips and… Oh my lord, I was squeezing his ass. I broke away in mortification, taking a few stumbling steps back so that the gravel beneath my feet spilled over the heels of my sandals and pinched the soles of my feet.

“What happened?” His eyelids were droopy, he looked half-drunk somehow and even staggered slightly as he moved in to scoop me back up. “Don’t stop, darlin’. C’mon, lil Cherry Pie.”

I found myself grinning madly as he nuzzled my neck, his hands kneading my hips and my butt as he mumbled and murmured. I felt powerful, no longer the peasant, not even the princess. No, I was the Evil Queen, with all the power and riches that everyone else coveted. They all wanted him. And he, he wanted me.

The picnic table jabbed me in the back of the thighs and my arms windmilled slightly as I fell back. Elvis didn’t stop, lifting me up onto it and jamming himself in between my legs before they could close. His hands slipped under my skirt and prodded at the soft, sensitive skin along my inner thigh. Any minute now, he would discover my soaked underwear. I tried shuffling away, but he could bend and flex like no other boy I ever met.

I gasped out his name when I felt a callused finger slide into the slippery core of me and he giggled a little at the way I writhed on his hand, trying to escape.

“You really are a sweet little cherry pie,” he mumbled into my cheek. “Let’s keep it that way, huh, darlin’.” I let out a whoosh of air from my paralysed lungs when he drew back and he pulled my skirt back down over my knees and smoothed it down my shins. “You won’t let no one else do that to you, will you, baby? Only me. It’s just for me.”

With a mischievous smile and his eyes glinting, he rubbed his glistening finger along the pillow of his bottom lip and sucked it in.

“Mmm, cherry pie delight.” He hiccupped a silly laugh as I shoved him in the chest and made him stumble back a few steps.

Riding back along the highway to the movie theatre felt like a long goodbye. I pressed my head to the nape of his neck, inhaling the scent of his hair, his skin, his collar, committing them to memory. There was an ache in my chest telling me that this was it, that moments were all I had left. I pressed my lips to the seam at the back of his jacket and christened it with the salty tear that wended its way down my cheek.

The crowd outside the theatre must have heard us coming from blocks away, they were already racing to the parking lot as we pulled in and crowded around with no concern for their own safety.

The third time I saw Elvis Presley was that autumn as I stood with the girls by the fence at Audubon Drive. Elvis had just come back from Hollywood and had some new friends with him. Some of the girls said that Natalie Wood was his girlfriend and that she was so crazy about him that she had followed him all the way back here.

Elvis gave my linked hands above his waistband a quick squeeze, before he was grinning for the fans, scrawling his name on their records, books, and arms. I stumbled from the back of the bike and walked back to the side door, eyes over my shoulder to see if he would look back even once. He didn’t.

_____________________________________________________________

It was after dinner when he finally came out, still wearing that silly cap. There were others with him, loud and excitable boys that talked really fast. I watched them making faces behind their hands and rolling their eyes as one girl was telling Elvis how much she had loved ‘Love me Tender’, that she had already seen it twelve times. He smiled at her, kind of bashful, and thanked her, saying that she and his parents were the only ones keeping it on the marquee.

When he got to me, I handed him the latest glossy that had been sent out by the fan club. It already had a printed signature on it, but I wanted the real thing.

“What’s your name, honey?” he murmured, glancing sideways as his friends started rough housing in the driveway.

“Annie,” I whispered. He scrawled on it, barely legible since he was busy yelling hints and tips to his friends cavorting about, ‘To Annie, Best Wishes, Elvis Presley.’

And those were the three times I saw Elvis Presley. I say saw, because I don’t think I ever really met him. But I saw him and that was enough.

A big thank you to @thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally and @ellie-24 for bad girl support

@literally-just-elvis-fics

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #baby elvis #trying to be a stud #1950s elvis

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d011zk1ll · 8 months ago

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Born in 1980 and moving to France in 1996, Sabine spoke predominantly Mandarin and English and spoke little french. She was there as an exchange student, on a scholarship offered to her due to her extended levels of intelligence.

What she had in smarts, she severely lacked in social skills.

After being bullied for the last 14 years, Sabine had learnt to keep her head down and she didn't have many friends, especially when she moved to france. If anyone were to trouble her, she had taken up martial arts after an incident that left her unable to talk to anyone without near panic attacks.

However, she never kept her voice down if she saw someone hurt. She had helped a multitude of her peers against the bullies at school back home in China.

She was strong willed, determined and smart. A perfect holder of the miraculous, and a perfect crush for Tom.

Born in 1980 and the son of the renound Roland dupain, Tom was shy. he struggled in the practical classes. Science being his worst, but he excelled at baking due to being raised by a baker. He was social and friendly with everyone in the class, constantly bringing in treats for everyone.

He noticed the new girl slip into his class on Sabine's first day and set his eyes on being her friend (or maybe more, but that was for him to know and her to find out later, if everything went according to plan at least)

He constantly talked to her, even when she looked away or left.

He had only ever heard her talk to answer the teachers questions and thought she was weird (in an endearing way)

That all changed one day, about a week after Sabine arrived.

Small red earrings (about the size of her pinky fingers nail) with engraved black dots and a golden rim glinted on Sabines pillow in the small apartment her parents were paying for.

A thin, silver ring with dark green paw prints scattered along the surface for tom appeared on his wooden desk, on top of the books he had left there the day before.

And a butterfly that loomed over the city.

One that the two 16 year olds had to fight with nothing but willpower, spite and the worst weapons they could have ever asked for.

What was Yunqi going to do with a yo-yo, and tomcat an extendable pole?

They were going to find out!

---------

My idea for a past miraculous au where Sabine and Tom are holders that I talked about with @catra-taj yesterday. I'm gonna write it as a fic!! >:3

(oh and the reason nobody remembers them is because the entirety of Paris had a memory wipe once they defeated Chrysalis, perhaps the fight was that traumatizing that the ladybirds had to erase everyone's memories.)

Yunqi means Luck in mandarin (I think) and her power would be 'gift of fortune' (It sounds nicer than lucky charm for Sabine)

Tomcat is obvious enough, tom-cat. His power is called 'Carnage' (still kinda workshopping that name but carnage is the best I've got for now!!)

I'll do designs and fleshing out the plot tomorrow!! :D

I'm also doing the whole future au, I might make some references to each other if I end up writing them at the same time!!

#silly little guy #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #Sabine #sabine cheng #tom #tom dupain #Yùnqì #tomcat #miraculous au #past au #miraculous past au #Chrysalis #fanfic ideas #original au #i think?

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jacksdinonuggets · 8 months ago

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Lost And Found Chapter 4

Vaggie's injuries haven't been healing well and has gotten infected. Carmilla has to take her to the hospital. tw: mentions of suicide and mental hospitals.

A couple of weeks had passed since Carmilla claimed Vaggie as her daughter. When she had aged back up sometime during these weeks, she was extremely apologetic and embarrassed. She felt ashamed for having to use that coping mechanism but Carmilla told her it was okay. What did worry her was that she wanted to do all the wound cleaning and bandaging by herself. When Carmilla asked if she knew how to do it, she quickly said yes and sprinted off.

Ever since vaggie did her own stuff, she seemed to stop healing and was going backwards. Carmilla noticed how she struggled to walk, she would silently complain about headaches, and have really bad eye and back pain. So one day, Carmilla decided she would talk to her about it. She walked into Vaggie’s room but had the worst timing because she was in the middle of changing her bandages with her back facing Carmilla. And oh boy did those injuries look infected as fuck. There was puss and it was inflamed and really red.

“Vaggie?! Why didn’t you tell me about this,” Carmilla ran up to her, causing Vaggie to flinch and cover her body up.

“I- I have it under control!” Vaggie tried to say but Carmilla wasn’t taking it.

“Nu-unh, don’t lie to me. We’re going to the hospital,”

Vaggie stopped breathing for a second. The last time someone said that she was stuck in a mental hospital until she jumped out the 6th story window, landing her in heaven. She didn’t want to be stuck there again.

“No! I’m not going there!” Vaggie yelled. She gasped for air and stumbled to a corner, trying to catch her breath.

“Sweetie, take some deep breaths. The hospital will help you,” Carmilla kept her calm and spoke softly to her.

“No it won’t! It didn’t help last time!” Vaggie screamed at her, tugging her hair.

“What? We never went to the sloth ring before,” the older lady stated.

“When I was alive, my stupid parents took me there for being abnormal and I was stuck there for 5 months! They-they paid the nurses to keep me there!” She panicked. Carmilla didn’t want her to rip her hair out and grabbed her stuffed bear off of her bed and handed it to her. She squeezed the bear tight.

“Vaggie, we are NOT going to that type of hospital, okay? This is just a doctor's visit. I will not be paying anyone to keep you there,” The older woman promised.

“Y-you won’t?” Vaggie asked.

“I promise I won’t,” she replied. The small girl held out her pinky finger.

“Pinky pwomise?” Carmilla held out her pinky and curled it around her’s

“Pinky promise.” she confirmed.

Getting Vaggie changed was a bit hard. Everything hurt her back. Putting her diaper on was the worst part because she had to lay down on her back. But she managed to do it. Once tying her shoes and packing the diaper bag. Vaggie curled up in the backseat of the car with her plushie tucked in her arms.

Once they got to the hospital, Vaggie held Carmilla’s hand as they walked through the entrance and into the lobby. Carmilla saw how nervous she was and picked her up and set her in her lap while she did paper work. Whenever someone would give them a weird look, Carmilla would send a death glare at them before continuing on her work.

It took a little bit of time before they were called back. Vaggie was led into a room where they took her height and weight. Then they lead her to a room and asked her to get changed into this weird paper gown.

“Help, mama?” Vaggie asked. Carmilla nodded and helped her get changed into it after the nurse left.

When the doctor came in, Carmilla explained how she was a fallen angel (didn’t mention what type) and was also regressed. The doctor seemed okay with it and just wanted to help out.

“Okay, Vaggie, sweetie, I’m just gonna take a look at your back,” The doctor said. Vaggie moved so her back was facing him. He undid the backside of her gown her a took a look. He visibly winced at it.

“Oooh, yeeah, this is definitely infected. But I can fix it.” The doctor then dug around his thousands of syringes and picked one out. Vaggie had seen and clinged to Carmilla, jumping into her lap.

“I just need to inject some strong antibiotics into the wound and then clean it up and prescribe you some meds,” He explained. That didn’t help vaggie at all. She whimpered, really scared of the needle.

“Is it alright if she sits in my lap?” Carmilla asked. The doctor nodded and she held Vaggie tightly and closely before he made the first injection. It stung like hell. Vaggie screamed in pain and cried, trying to move but her caregiver held her too tight. Carmilla used one hand to dig through the diaper bag and took out her pacifier and plopped it in her mouth. It didn’t deafen the screams that much but it helped soothe her a little.

The first injection was soon done. Carmilla could tell that vaggie needed a change. The pain and scariness must’ve made her wet herself. She rocked her and helped her calm down before the second injection, the one for her other side. She didn’t scream as loud but Carmilla was sure she’d be getting tinnitus later.

“You’re such a brave girl, Mija, I think you deserve ice cream,” Carmilla wiped away her tears. Finally, the doc finished cleaning her back wound.

The eye injury wasn’t nearly as bad and all she needed was a couple of antibiotic pills for it.

“Now, I would like to keep her here overnight, just to monitor her. We need to know if she has any reactions, especially because she’s not used to hell’s medicines yet,” Doc said.

Vaggie felt her heart drop. She had to stay overnight? No, this couldn’t be happening! Her grip tightened on Carmilla’s shirt and her eyes were screwed shut. Her heart beat faster than a lightning bolt would strike. Her steady breathing turned into hyperventilating.

“Sh, shh, it’ll be okay bebe, I’ll be with you the whole time,” Carmilla rocked her, trying to stop a panic attack from occurring.

Those words helped calm her down before she freaked out. The doctor showed them to her room and helped them get settled. Carmilla had already asked clara to pack an overnight bag for Vaggie to drop off.

After Carmilla changed Vaggie, she settled into her hospital bed. It was a little uncomfy and irritated her back a little but it would have to do. Carmilla was reading her a story when a knock came from the door.

“Guess who’s here? Your favorite older sister!” Clara announced and walked in.

“Hey, I’m her favorite!” Odette replied, also walking in. Vaggie giggled at their antics.

“You bof equally suck,” Vaggie joked.

“I am wounded, baby sis,” Clara sarcastically said. Even though Vaggie had a hard time understanding sarcasm, this was kind of funny to her.

Clara was carrying a duffle bag with some overnight and comfort items. Odette had a little gift bag with her.

“We heard you couldn’t get ice cream, so we got you a little gift” Odette handed her the bag. Vaggie immediately opened it and took out a new stuffed animal. It was a purple fluffy rabbit. She squealed and hugged it.

“T’ank you! I love her!”

Carmilla, Odette, and Clara both smiled. The cuteness of this girl.

Odette and Clara had to leave soon after since it was getting late. Carmilla was allowed to stay overnight with her because she was an overlord and a pretty big deal. She tried to keep Vaggie entertained the best she could. Eventually, it was getting close to her bedtime and she fell asleep on her own. Carmilla nestled into the uncomfortable armchair to try to get some sleep. Her poor baby was going through so much. She didn’t want to be asleep in case she needed her. But her body eventually gave out and she fell into a deep sleep.

#agere writing #agere fanfic #hazbin hotel agere #padded agere #ageredips #sfw littlespace #sfw #sfw agere #age regression #hazbin hotel age regression

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manasurge · 13 days ago

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Lol this feels so stupid, but I'm contemplating going into a walk-in clinic to see if I can get my toe x-ray'd to see if I janked it up as much as it feels/looks like. Nothing gross, just me blabbering for a bit over this dumb appendage, so under the cut to make my post a bit smaller:

It's so dumb, but I've stubbed this thing twice (both times very hard, and not even an expected toe (ie big or pinky), but it was my left ring finger(???) toe) and the first time it took a month or so to heal (I thought it might've been a bone bruise, but I might've slightly fractured it instead? hard to tell tbh), but then another month or two later after that, I hit it hard AGAIN and I think I fractured it bc it's been like, over a month again and while it's mostly better, it still hurts when pressure is put on the top of it, it looks a bit janky now (possibly looks a bit jankier than before? I can see where parts bump out wrong and can feel it too and it's bent slightly inward, and the knuckle part might be bent up a bit higher bc it always looks like I have a red dot on there), and sometimes it'll just randomly hurt when it moves a certain way :/) It's probably just a weird minor thing since these things are usually not serious and just need time to heal on their own, but it's just so distracting and bothersome sometimes (especially with the weird feeling pain spikes), but mainly I'm mostly just curious about how it might look underneath (as to also confirm if it is as janky as it feels/looks like on the inside as it is on the outside, and to see if I'm crazy or not lmao). Also bc I've never broken a bone in my body before and this is the closest thing I've ever had to that happening laskjdfl.

#blabbering #the left side of my body continues to be cursed #I'm fine; it's just weird and it still refuses to heal and it's annoying and ouchie #curse these tiny bones #and my ability to get the dumbest injury ever lmao

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hypnoneghoul · 1 year ago

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im interested in hearing about your ideas specifically regarding rain with eds

ahhh I love eds Rain. I've said a lot about that already, if u missed it:

One, Two, Three, Four + eds/pots Rain centric fic

But I still have more thoughts (sorry if something repeats, tho), this time more bass centered (heavily based on my own experience, excuse that), under the cut!

CW. pictures of hypermobile hands on bass on the very end, they look weird LMAO

Rain, obviously, loves bass and playing it, right? Yeah, this shit hurts but they won't stop, never. Playing bass, or any instrument really, especially professionally is painful, yeah, but if you've got eds its not just calluses and blisters and strained wrists. These are the least of Rain's issues.

On one hand Rain would want to play more finger style, not with a pick, they think it's more precise and fun, but it's harder for their hands. The thumb that they rest against the pickup or lowest string bends in the weirdest way, sometimes locking. Rest of their right hand fingers can be decently used to play but one day Rain will pluck the string harder or from some weird angle on accident and, oops, dislocated. They can't risk that on stage, because as well as they can pull of locked knee or popped out hip during a show, issues with their fingers won't pass. So, pick it is, at all times, though some song have such a soft bass lines playing them finger style would sound even better than with a pick. Especially with how Rain's calluses are nearly as rough as a pick itself.

Considering their left hand, THUMB. It does wild things behind neck of that bass, something bending and/or locking in such a weird way you can't eve see it. Rain's index, middle and ring fingers are mostly fine, over bending but not locking (too much), unfortunately, because that would be a huge problem. Their pinky is a separate entity tho, so it's good it's not so "needed" on bass. Sometimes it locks during a show and stays stiff and weirdly bent for hours later, spooking Papa when it pokes his own hand during bows.

I've said it before, but bass means SO much for Rain, that they would never put it down, no matter how bad their health would get. They could go off stage, they'd miss that, yeah, but it's not the most important thing, but they will NEVER put away their bass. The one they have at home, their own, they'll drag it back to Hell with them if needed.

As a bonus, i gift you with pics of my hands doing some of the mentioned things LMAO

@ominousposting

#the band ghost #rain ghoul #hypnone's asks #hypnone's headcannons #eds and pots rain #hypnone's disabled ghouls

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bitletsanddrabbles · 1 year ago

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2nd Degree Pinky Burn: 0 of 10, Do Not Recommend

Last night, before I went to bed, I noticed my phone needed charging, so I plugged it in and went to sleep, just as I have done since...I got my first cellphone pretty much. Now, you do hear the occasional story about cellphone batteries randomly exploding or combusting when left on the charger, but at the same time, good luck finding someone who doesn't do it. I swear, I can count more stories of battery explosions than I can people I know who don't leave devices recharging, including the doctor in the ER who talked with me at about 5:30 this morning.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I tossed the phone on the charger and went to sleep. At some point shortly before 2:56, which is when I picked up my phone and looked at the time, I woke up and had to go to the bathroom. I did so, and my cat decided to come in and stomp all over me and be a generally sweet nuisance. I'd just finished scolding him and getting him to settle down so I could go back to sleep, and turning the fan on because despite being December, I was getting warmish, when there was a weird hissing noise.

I'd just had time to wonder WTF when something hit the floor.

The room immediately filled up with noxious smelling smoke.

My first thought was that somehow the thermos I keep next to the bed had fallen off my nightstand and, despite it's well sealed lid, was spraying water all over the floor and the power bar that the fan was plugged into causing a potential fire and electrical issue. With the sound logic of someone who's awake and nearly 3am, I reached over to shove it away from the electrical equipment. (The possibility that this could get me shocked would not occur for about an hour.) I did not find my water bottle, but my left pinky and ring finger found something hot.

Very hot.

Incredibly hot.

"Danger: Do Not Touch" hot.

This suggested to my brain that I should a) move my hand and b) unplug the fan because maybe my hand had just brushed up against the cord where it was plugged in and maybe it was having an issue. I did this and while it didn't fix the problem, or electrocute me, it was enough that my brain figured the risk of fire was low enough for me to get out of bed and, you know, turn on the lights? So I could maybe see what was going on?

The first thing I saw was that my cellphone was no longer plugged in. It was lying on it's front with the back laying next to it. The area for the battery was empty.

Oh. That's what happened.

I looked over on the side of the bed and could not immediately see the battery, but there was something very bright red on the floor that had to be a part of the phone, but not one I could identify. Ah well. The important part was that there was no danger of fire, so I could go run cold water over my poor fingers.

I ran cold water over my fingers.

I ran more cold water over my fingers.

I went back to see if I could spot the battery and see what shape it was in. The bright red thing on the phone was now a kinda silver colour. You know, like a phone battery.

Oh.

I ran more cold water over my fingers.

It occurred to me that my other phone was charging in the office and I should probably go take it off the charger, which I did.

I then went back to running cold water over my fingers.

I finally decided that despite the time I should call my mother who lives very near by and ask her advice. I did that, opened the bathroom window to help clear the smoke out of the house, then ran some cold water in a gallon utility bucket and went to sit on the sofa while I waited for Mum to get dressed and come to get me.

Shortly before Mum showed up, I got a metal serving utensil with a plastic handle, scooped the battery up off of my poor, charred floor, and dumped it on the concrete back stoop to deal with when it wasn't beyond crazy hot.

I went back and put my hand in the bucket until Mum got there and we went to the Urgent Care.

Urgent Care - at least at that location - is no longer 24/7 and you are advised to schedule your non-life threatening injuries between the hours of 8 am and 8 pm.

I was admitted to the ER at about 4 am. I was discharged about 6 am, which is admittedly not bad for an ER visit.

We went to Mum's and had breakfast. I called work and let them know I wouldn't be coming in today. She ordered a new phone, and then unplugged her laptop which she's just left plugged in and charging for...ten years now? Thirteen? Longer? It's a really old lap top.

I am now washing my sheets to remove the smell in a house that is as fully opened up as I can get it.

In December.

So yeah. If you're in the habit of just leaving devices charging while you sleep or are at the other end of the house or shopping...maybe try not to.

#ouch #that hurt #fire hazard #things not to do #cellphones #exploding battery

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honshew · 1 year ago

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don't read this probably it's just silly musings i don't care to write anywhere else it's just about typing

weird thing but i've been practicing touch typing with "proper form" like they teach in school or whatever bc i never learned it properly (i can type without looking at the keyboard tho) and i have to say it's making me question...

WHO ACTUALLY USES THEIR PINKY FINGERS TO TYPE Q OR P????? MY PINKY IS TOO SHORT PLEASE also the idea that a specific finger should be used for specific letters only is a little silly to me like if my index finger is on m why would i have to use my index finger on u when i could just use my middle finger that's already right there? i get that it's for easy memorization of the keyboard but idk it still seems rather silly

how the fuck can i type without looking as it is when i don't really keep my fingers in a consistent place? i notice that my accuracy on typing tests dramatically go down when i have to type a jumble of letters or single letters in isolation, but i do perfectly well when typing words. i hit 91 wpm at my best in fact. did i just memorize how to move my hands for every word i type? not likely. is it that my muscle memory uses some letters as landmarks and finds its way around relative to those? idk!!!

i'm so curious what the motor map for my fingers must be. when i'm hyperaware of which fingers are hitting what key using "proper" touchtyping, sometimes i have to think for a few seconds for my brain to identify and communicate to certain fingers, particularly my middle and ring fingers. i also noticed i have a harder time on the right side of the home row than the left, which is weird considering i'm right handed. in particular i constantly mix up k & l. i paid attention how i normally type and i think it's because i typically use the same finger to hit both keys, so maybe that's messing me up?

#honshew text

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c0ffinshit · 2 years ago

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Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome (The Grabber x Reader) PART FOUR

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

word count: 2,486

warnings: talks of past voyerism, fingering, oral sex (female), degradation, slight fluff at the start, regret, mentions of stalking, semi-dubcon, begging

Months passed since Albert left me that day. I hadn’t even seen him around town until October 19th. It was a few days before an old friend’s birthday; I was desperate for a gift. I asked everyone I knew for ideas, but those became dead-ends quickly. My friend, being the oldest, loved reading. War of The Worlds, IT, Pride and Prejudice, and many more. I never saw them without a book near them or in their hand. It was always funny to me, in a weird sort of way. I knew there was a bookstore about three miles away from my house. So, I put on my good walking shoes, opened my door, and walked down. Once I got there, I opened the door, my bell-bottom jeans sweeping against the dark, hardwood floors. That was what alerted him to the door. He looks at me with his cold, lifeless eyes and just stares. I hadn’t quite noticed him, but I could feel him lurking.

"Excuse me? Can you help me find a book?" I asked the store clerk, almost in a whisper. The place was as quiet as a mouse; only soft jazz played as the clerk got up from his seat and showed me around the fiction. I looked until finally, Misery by Stephen King. She had been searching for a copy with a specific cover. And lucky for me, it was right in front of my face.

"Rough night?" a voice behind me inquires, looking at the book’s cover in my hands, his hands placed neatly behind him.

I turn around to reveal a tall and disheveled Albert.

"Al, you look…well," I said, my eyes looking up and down his body. His shirt was covered in old stains, and his pants were riddled with holes. Albert looked as if he had never slept a day in his life.

"Yeah, and you look amazing as always." He said his gaze sharpening.

Al seemed off. I mean, he was always off. But he seemed frantic, itchy, for lack of a better word.

"Listen, I know you’re probably still reeling about what happened a few months ago, and I want to tell you that…I’m sorry for getting mad at you like that," Al said as he started to back away from me, "I was angry, is all."

I look at him blankly. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to rehash what happened the last time he tried to apologize. All the yelling and hurt feelings. Those memories came flooding back to me.

"You are so lucky I hate you right now," I said, walking away from the door.

The Grabber places the daisies neatly on the mat, "And I’m so lucky to have you feel what I’ve felt for years."

I blink, trying to bring myself back to the present. But all it took was Albert to say something to carry me back to the bookstore at the end of October.

"So? Do you forgive me?" he said, his pinky finger moving to mine.

Maybe it was something I still secretly longed for. To feel Albert’s hands run along my legs as if he was kneeling before me like I was his goddess. Maybe he had finally changed a new leaf, becoming the man I always longed he’d be. But a thought crept into my mind: Nobody wants to admit that shit.

"Well…" I started, still trying to figure out if I should also apologize or stand my ground.

"You know you don’t have to forgive me, right? I was merely saying sorry." Al said, playing with the rings on his fingers.

What a thought. To feel The Grabber’s fingers deep inside, hitting your g-spot over again as he tells you how good you’re taking it.

I shake my head, "No, no, it's alright. I do forgive you… for the most part."

Albert smiles, the gentle smile I used to love. "That’s good. Good girl."

God, he must know what he’s doing to me.

"I don’t know about good," I replied shyly.

"You’re good to me. Anyone good to me is good in my book." His smile suddenly forms into a smirk.

He fully knows.

"Listen, I have to buy this book, or the employees will think I’m loitering. So…talk soon?" I said, pointing it in the direction of the now-sleeping clerk.

"I’ll come by your place. How does that sound?" His voice is quiet and smooth.

"That sounds great!"

I will admit; I got a little too excited to see a man I’m supposed to hate. As I went to one of the many cash registers, I could feel Albert’s eyes scanning my body as he stood near one of the many shelves. Uncomfortable wasn’t even a word I thought of when it came to that; erotic seems more like it. To feel his dark eyes following along the curves of my natural body; his eyes finally landed on my ass as I said to the employee, “have a nice day!” Maybe I was finally giving in. Giving in to that voice in my head that day. I wanted to fall back into his arms and forgive him for using me. And now, he’ll finally get what Albert and I both needed, each other.

His eyes are still on me, even when I leave the store. I wouldn’t say I’m getting paranoid, but it's only a feeling. Albert followed me home. I only know that because it's across the street from my living room’s only window. A black van with teal lettering lies waiting for me. And I feel his fist ready to knock on the door, continuing to act like everything between us is normal and over with. Finally, that knock comes, and I finish putting everything together.

I open the door. A smile crosses my face. Again, to reveal Albert, still in his same dirty clothes. "I thought you weren’t coming by ‘til later."

Albert chuckles, "This is why I didn’t set up a time, just to hear you say that."

He is really sucking up.

"So, what do you want to do now that I’m here?" He said, playfully hitting my arm.

I would love for you to take my face in your hands and kiss me with the most passion I’ve ever experienced in my whole life.

"I don’t know. I’m up for anything." I said. Suddenly, his hand snakes around my wrist, squeezing in gently. Maybe he is a mind reader.

"Then I have the thing for you." He said, pulling on my wrist gently. "First, you have to invite me in."

"What are you? A vampire?" I giggle.

"No, it's just the right thing to do."

"Okay, fine, you may come in." Albert smiles the way he always smiles, his crooked teeth on full display. His long legs walked through my door for the first time. It felt like deja vu.

"Now, finally, I can give you what you want," Al takes hold of my hand gently, "I want to make love, darling."

I froze. Why on god’s green earth is he acting like this?

"Al, cmon, don’t play with me."

"Oh, dear," he pulled me closer to him, "why would I want to play with you? Do you want me to play with you?"

I didn’t want to reply. All I knew was it felt way too good. I could feel my old habits crawling up my back.

"I bet you’re just so excited that I’m here, especially since I know you’re still in love with me," he said, his hands tugging at my hand.

His hand felt warm but threatening, like any minute he would rip it off of my body. I did still love him, or at least I thought I did. But if I did love him, why did I always have so much hatred toward him? At least I know now that I overreached that day.

"Is it okay if I..." Albert pulls my hand. Taking me closer to him, "just put my hands right here."

I feel my feet beneath me moving closer to his enormous figure. I gently whine against him when he finally pulls me in for a hug. Suddenly, I feel Albert’s soft lips on my neck, kissing gently. I try to move away from Albert’s strong arms, but his grip stops me. He held me in a way that I didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want me to leave either. Suddenly, I feel one of his hands go lower to my thigh. "You know, I’ve been watching you. The window in your bedroom is the perfect view to watch you cum to thoughts of me. I can even hear it when I’m in my house." he asked, whispering against my neck.

"Albert, I-"

"’ I’ what? Do you not want this? C’mon (Y/N), give in."

A giggle escapes my lips, "No, it's not that. It's the fact that you don’t mean anything you say." He kisses my jaw, "What if it's the truth, (Y/N)? How would you feel then? Give it, for your pleasure’s sake. " Albert’s other hand moved slowly to the opposite thigh. It felt weirdly intimate. His eyes met mine, which felt like frost on my skin.

"God, you’re even prettier up close."

I giggle in reply. My hands were along Albert’s shoulders.

"Why are you so giggly all of a sudden?" he asked, getting closer to my face again.

"I’m not giggly," I replied sheepishly, "I just know that this is all bullshit. You’re a liar that kills people. Not exactly trustworthy."

Albert’s breathing suddenly grows heavy, "Why do you not believe me?"

"I literally just told you why. You’re a murderer who is also a lair."

"No. I mean, why is it so hard to believe that I do love you?"

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. The Grabber really wants to play this game?

"Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it was the weeks of manipulation I had to suffer through; while still being in love with you."

He grew quiet. The loud cicadas sang outside, waiting for a mate of their own. Suddenly, I feel him push me up against a wall.

"I am sick of playing these mind games, princess. Now let me, why am I really here?" Albert said, his hands going up to touch my collarbones. It felt like my throat was closing, like having an allergy reaction. "Come on, spill it out. Before I use that whore mouth of yours and fuck it out of you." His mouth was close to my ear.

"I don’t know, I just thought you wanted to talk and forgive-"

"Forgive? Talk? Honey, I’m giving you what you scream about at night with your hands deep in your pussy. And don’t lie to me; I’ve seen it."

"What do you mean ‘seen it?’" I asked innocently.

"Oh, you didn't notice? I’ve been watching you from your bedroom window. You like the idea of me being the predator, preying upon you. Or at least, you cum the hardest to that thought."

His hands slowly work their way down to my thighs. My legs suddenly lifted off the ground, my ankle socks brushing against Albert's pants.

"What I’ve also noticed is when you cum, you call yourself a ‘dirty little slut.’ Mind telling me what that’s about?" Albert slowly gets on his knees, my thighs resting on his shoulders. "Do you want to be my dirty little slut?"

His big hands hooked around my panties and pulled them down my legs. One leg slipped out of the panties’ leg hole. Now, finally greeted with my aching pussy, he kisses it softly.

"Beg." Albert plainly said as he kissed my inner thigh.

"What?" I whisper. Looking down, I can feel every kiss he places down.

"Beg for me to fuck you with my tongue."

"Fuck… please fuck me, Albert. I want your tongue deep inside my cunt." I beg softly, trying to hold myself back as I squirmed around his face, trying to get any contact for my poor clit.

"One flick, and you’ll cum; I can just feel it." his nose rubs up against my clit.

"God," I moan out. Albert continues to rub his nose side to side, just slightly above my clit. I could feel his face get wetter with my cum as Albert went deeper.

"God-fuck-sh-please let me cum."

"Aw, you poor little thing, wanting to cum. You can hardly speak." Albert continued on like that for a little while until gently grazing his tongue over my clit. Causing my body to shiver.

"Do you want to cum, princess? Please cum for me," he said, his licking becoming more rapid.

The next few moments were a blur. A few different thoughts ran through my head, mainly that I didn’t know if I wanted it. Sure, I still had feelings that crawled in my skin like spiders. But I also couldn’t stand being around him. Either way, as I could feel my orgasm on the horizon, my pussy pushed into his face, my pearl still aching for any contact from Albert.

"Fuck-Albert-I’m gonna-" I manage to stutter out as the tight knot in my stomach finally snaps.

Once the brain fog lifts, I quickly realize what I am doing. I can’t do this anymore.

I push his face away from my clit and stumble away, straightening myself out. "Aw, c’mon, what’s wrong now?" Albert whines, his shoes sliding as he up, and walks over to me.

"What’s wrong? WHAT’S WRONG? What kind of question is that, Albert?" I ask him as I begin to pace around the room.

"This is a one time thing-"

"I WISH I KNEW HOW TO QUIT YOU." I screamed, slamming my foot down. "YOU ARE ALL I THINK ABOUT ALL THE TIMES. EVEN WHEN I HATE YOU FOR THE THINGS YOU DO."

Albert stands silently for a moment. I started to panic since all those words seemed to spill out of my mouth. "That’s a shame. I can’t say I feel the same.” He paused for a second before walking towards the door, "you know what? It doesn’t matter anyways. The thing is, even I know when to give up." Albert finished, finally walking to the door.

"Albert, please, you don’t understand-" I tried to speak but was interrupted by Al’s footsteps stop.

"(Y/N), ever I know when to give up. I’ll still call and mail you… the dream of having a relationship is dead. I’m not the guy for that. I’m the guy for casual sex and noncommittal relationships." Albert’s eyes move slowly to me and the street in front of my house.

I watched him turn the knob to the door, giving me a silent goodbye as he walked to his van. I saw him start up the car and drive away. Now all I have is me and sex filled with regret.

#ethan hawke #ethan hawke x reader #the grabber #the grabber x reader

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peachmuses · 1 year ago

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rangi speaks mother-tongue, and shuuzou's gaze focuses on him for a brief moment. ( he looks lost in memories for but a mere moment before he's translating. ) he shrugs, " i speak plenty of languages. english too. " fingers come up, and he bends a pinky down, " japanese, " ring-finger goes down, " english, " middle finger, " korean ", fore-finger, " spanish, " thumb, " mandarin, " thumb comes back up, " conversational cantonese, " forefinger lifts, " and i know asl and jsl - american and japanese sign language. " head tilts, " i'm sure i'll pick it up eventually. " that's not the point / and shuuzou isn't even really that aware why simple fact slips from tongue. he hums, " your mother loves you. " he can see it / simple. fact. he swipes a piece of food, and chews thoughtfully. " i put my father in the hospital. " a semi-frown, " i was --- a wild child. " fighting constantly / then that turned to mindless sex and fighting as he got older / then turned into just mindless sex / and -- he breathes out. " knocked him out. i was twelve. maybe thirteen. got home late, we got into it. i knocked him out and put him in the hospital. " a shrug, " ma didn't work, and it was me and the twins. so i felt like i had to do something to atone for it. " he glances down at his hands, " they ended up moving to america while i finished my years off at the school, then i followed them, and then eventually got sent back to japan. " it's the same old story with him / he finds a place / is too much / leaves before he's left. " i've calmed down a lot, " lips quirk, " but i got into everything. " he laughs lightly, " zu was no help. you know that one more --- with thing one and thing two, from dr. seuss -- i had a friend once obsessed with halloween. had us go as thing one and thing two because it fit. we both would just egg each other on and on. couldn't stand each other at first though. " it's weird for him to think about -- how kazuya has taken the slot of best friend that shuuzou once had only allowed makoto to be in. ( makoto is gone / and kazuya and ryou had glued his pieces back together as best as they could. the scary thing is -- shuuzou, lost, thinks he would choose kazuya as his best friend now -- even if makoto came back. he does not know makoto anymore / he does not know tatsuya anymore. ) he scratches his palm. shuuzou hums, thoughtfully. " you can't stay. you brought me here. do you trust me to get back to japan on my own ? " brow raises, before he pulls gaze away. " you know there's a reason i'm not allowed to leave zu's sight - or yours, " on the off-chance that kazuya is busy, " - if i'm out with the band right ? " he quiets down / taking in rangi's words as he thinks. life moves on / nothing is constant. pain is temporary. how he wishes it was true. sometimes it's easier to breath at night when he's alone, and sometimes, he feels like he's suffocating. " healing isn't linear, " quiet, " sometimes something can throw you back into that day without warning and it feels like nothing has changed. " he takes a sip of his drink, thoughtful. " and sometimes, it feels like everything has changed. people may change, but their core is still the same. " attention is called, and lazily, he watches as rangi swipes at caramel, and forces gaze away as tongue peeks out to swipe at finger, and he breathes out. " dunno. my core is filled with nothing but bad ideas, don't listen to me. i never said i was filled with good advice. " a shrug, " my family doesn't even like me very much. sometimes you gotta force people to see things how you need them to see, and sometimes you've just gotta let sleeping dogs lie. "

“ my story isn’t exactly spectacular, or rare. ” this isn’t said to be dismissive of what shuuzou tells him, but rangi’s fully aware that people get hurt. he’s aware that sports injuries are common / falling through cracks because of them even more so. not everyone can make it to the big leagues, life happens, people move on. tired eyes fall. closed for a moment, breath soft on his lips as he tilts his head until neck pops one way, then the other. “ everything comes to an end, ” wise words from his mother, parroted through the mother tongue, “ everything lives, everything dies; passions, people, plants, planets. worry about the now, not the later. ” he sighs, translating it for shuuzou before he continues on, shortly grappled by a chuckle trapped in his throat as he’s forced to look away. “ in hindsight, i should have taught you the language before bringing you to a place where people speak english. ” english / not japanese, as english is all but the universal language. not here, though, not where very few are fluent and rangi is the exception due to his circumstances. getting back to his point, “ it’s what my mom would say to us when we were younger, stressing out about something we couldn’t change in the moment. ”

another slow breath, thoughtful as someone brings him a serving of fa’ausi / person wanders off and rangi nudges the bowl in shuuzou’s direction. “ playing didn’t feel the same anymore, not when i was too paranoid to put in any serious effort in fear of getting hurt again. ” everyone stops playing, eventually. “ i’ll play casually every now and again. might play with them later. probably. ” most likely, if someone goads him into it, that is. his pause is thoughtful as he brings his bowl back, fork picking at snack, stabbing a piece as he holds it up to shuuzou, eyeing a jailed friend from behind utensil. “ you don’t have to tell me, but why’d you fee guilty? ”

fork drops halfheartedly, finally eating as he looks away again. “ i don’t plan on staying. they’ll learn, or i will, then i’ll leave all the same and it’ll be for naught. i know why i’m here, ” to make amends, issue of nearly a decade or so, “ i don’t know why i’m here. ” he’s not too sure he feels any better. there’s still things left unsaid, arguments forgotten, but not forgiven. he never thought it would be easy. “ life moves on, i know that, but it doesn’t feel like it. ” he’s back home and while he knows that, he doesn’t completely feel like it. he’s older, the others are older, his siblings have more kids than they did when he left / the house is different / the energy is different. “ it’s weird — to feel like an alien in your own home; i know them, but i don’t. ” life goes on, things change. rangi squints, appetite temporarily lost as he thinks. “ so long as people i used to know don’t crop up… ” voice trails, head shaking. “ nevermind. ”

“ different strokes for different folks, ” he muses instead, thinking about the differences between here and there / the way one place seems scars and tattoos versus the other. “ japan is slowly changing, even i can see that. i’ll consider hiding them less. ” shoulders raise just to drop, picking at his snack before finishing it off. “ scars are scars, no matter what anyone has to say about it. i’m not shamed of them. ” it’s neither here nor there, though, so rangi drops it as he sets the bowl aside after swiping extra caramel off the side and licking it off his finger. “ i am but a humble man, shuuzou. ” mostly, anyway. “ what do you suggest i do, then? ”

#sociieties #sociieties: rangi #character ⸺ shuuzou.

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pistachiotalenti · 2 years ago

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saw this post by @bottleofchaos, decided to write something for it! idk!

"Golly, you two are too sweet."

It doesn't process in Dream's head, at least not at first. But then a weird silence falls onto them, the kind that's made when someone is expecting a response that hasn't come yet. George's eyes fall from Dream's face to search for the source of the voice, and Dream follows his gaze until it lands on the small, white-haired lady sitting at a table nearby.

She stares at them, eyes wrinkled, lips curled into a knowing grin. Now that they're all looking at each other, Dream understands that they've officially started a conversation with this woman. He has nothing to contribute besides a series of stuttered false starts: oh, uh, haha, uh, thanks–?

She interrupts him before he can spit out a whole thought. "So which one of you popped the question?" she asks, her smile spreading even wider, sweeter.

Dream nearly chokes. "Who– what–"

"I couldn't help but notice your rings," she says, uncurling her hand from her walker to point between them.

My rings? Dumbly, Dream looks down at his own hands, at the rings he wears with nearly every outfit. There's nothing really to notice about them today, other than that the one he usually wears on his pinky is missing–

George pulls his hand up between them, the thick silver of his borrowed ring gleaming pretty on his second-smallest finger. Dream starts to feel faint.

"Oh," he starts. "We're not– uh–"

"He did," George replies, and the shock that slams into Dream's entire body nearly throws him off his feet. He looks to George at a breakneck speed. George merely smiles up at him with that cheesy beam, the one where his cheeks pucker up into his eyes and his mouth spreads so wide that the very edges of his teeth show, the one that makes Dream so fucking happy to see up close in person—and my god. It hits Dream now that it's that exact type of exchange that makes them look so incredibly married, not just to the millions of viewers who search for moments like this, but also, apparently, to this random lady waiting for her order in Starbucks.

Satisfied, she claps her hands onto her knees and leans into George's space. "Oh, that's lovely! I'm sure you must've felt like a million bucks."

"I did," George answers, uncharacteristically sweet. Dream thinks that each word coming out his mouth feels like a punch to the face.

"And you," she continues, turning to Dream, "I bet you were really nervous, huh?"

Dream falters. He didn't ask for the spotlight on him, but now he's left to deal with it and this insane lie George has crafted for the two of them. He figures he should just be honest and tell her that this was one big misunderstanding, a big joke, but then he jumps at the invisible touch on his lower back. It's George, looking up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes and resting a hand on his waist like it's something he does all the time, or even ever.

Dream feels his entire face turn hot. This fucking asshole.

"Uh– I– yeah, I mean–" He can't think at all, not with this weird, dumb warmth lingering at the base of his spine. A small, still-coherent space in his mind flashes back to a few months ago at Twitchcon, where he had infamously held George's waist for the briefest of moments. He hadn't been so eager, hand not as solidly placed against his back the way George's hand is on him right now, but even if it had been, Dream wouldn't expect it to look (and feel) so... romantic.

Maybe it's a weird thought, but Dream feels like such a girlfriend in this moment, such a piece of arm candy, small and held and cared for, and it's so strange—yet also only so expected—to find himself in this position alongside George. It's a lot to think about. It's so much that he abandons thinking at all, and instead lets his tongue and teeth go on autopilot.

"I was, yeah. I mean, look at this guy. He's gorgeous. Of course I'd be nervous asking him to marry me!"

George lets out a sputtered laugh. The hand on Dream's back twitches, curling briefly into the fabric of his hoodie before slipping off and away. Dream would feel smug at successfully throwing George off-guard, if only he didn't miss the touch.

"Oh, shush. You're both handsome. You look great together," the lady assures with a wave of her hand. "But you know, in all honesty, looks don't matter. What really matters is how you two interact, and work together, and... and love each other, really."

It's an alarmingly heartfelt bit of advice, one that George takes with unexpected sincerity. "That's true. I mean, I... we met online, so I actually... I didn't know what he looked like for years, even while we were talking."

"Oh, wow. Really? That's... that's real commitment there. That's lovely." Awe flashes across her face. Dream catches George's eye, and by his strained smile, Dream can tell they both feel exposed in this instance, teetering on the edge of something a little too real, cutting a little too close to who they are and what they've been through together. The stranger before them knows no difference, chatting onward. "No, of course, I should've known two young men like you would've met on the Internet. What is it called, the one on your phone? Tinder, or Grindr, or..."

"Uh–! Grindr," Dream says, chuckling a bit as he falls back into the absurdity of this conversation.

"Sure! That sounds right. My grandson, Brian, bless his heart. He actually met his partner on one of those apps on the phone, and now they're engaged. Isn't that wonderful?"

Dream and George both chime in with the polite response, congratulating the woman for the exciting development in her family. Giddy, she basks in the well wishes. "It'll be first time one of my grandkids will get married. I'm so excited." Her dreamy expression off into the distance suddenly lazer focuses onto the both of them. "What are your names? I'll have to tell Brian about you two. I think it'll really please him to know that there are other young folk like him who are married and happy and thriving and..."

Dream and George exchange a precarious look. There's no way in hell they'd give their real names, lest the wrong people get the wrong idea and end up spreading rumors across the Internet about Clay and George's secret marriage. So George looks back to the woman. "My name is Nick."

Dream scoffs, just quiet enough to escape suspicion. "And I'm Karl."

"That's lovely. Thank you, boys. I hope you two live long, happy lives together!"

It's a sweet sendoff. The two wish her and her grandson the best, then they leave the Starbucks, making sure to pick up their drinks before the barista can holler out their true names in front of this woman they wholly, egregiously lied to. And for the most part, the moment is over with reality restored and all turning back to normal.

They're not married, or engaged. They're not even a couple. They're just... Dream is just...

"Idiot." It's the first thing either of them have said since stepping out into the Florida sun. Dream turns to George, who despite the mean name-calling, shakes his head and smiles along his straw like he's as fond as ever. "You're an idiot."

"What do you mean?" Dream asks coolly. It earns a bright smile from George, as he had hoped.

"Oh my god, don't even do this right now."

"What?"

"No, you're such an idiot. I can't believe you did that to that poor lady."

"Did what?" Dream laughs. "You were the one who lied to her first."

"No, I didn't lie. I was just going with it. But you were the one who straight up said you proposed to me."

"What? There's no way– you know that's not how that works. You are not gonna pretend you're innocent in this."

George smiles his little shit-eating grin. "I'm always innocent."

"Okay, now that's a lie."

George barks out a laugh, loud and wonderful and so very George that it makes Dream's chest ache a bit. And it aches more when George raises his hand again to brandish that matching silver ring, the one that brought them into this mess in the first place. George sighs wistfully.

"But really, I can't believe that actually happened. Like, after all the times we talked about someone thinking we were actually a couple?"

"It's insane."

"It's epic."

Dream snorts. "Sure."

"Next time, we should do that thing where one of us pretends to propose in a fancy restaurant so that we get free dessert or something."

Dream giggles, "Okay, that actually would be epic."

"Right? You can be the one that proposes." George waggles an eyebrow at him. "Unless my gorgeousness would make you too nervous."

With a roll of his eyes, Dream turns away and laughs. "Oh my god, shut up. You're so–"

"Or was that a lie, too?" George challenges, smirking because he already knows the answer.

"No, that– okay, no, I would– in this fantasy scenario, I would not get nervous just because you look... handsome, or whatever." It's a weird hill to die on, so Dream decides to make it weirder. "I would be super cool when I propose to you, all Chad-like."

"When?" George echoes. He's not even able to hide his surprise at the slip.

Dream flounders further. "No, oh my god, I mean 'if'. Er, I mean– I'm not proposing to you."

"Yet."

Dream rolls his eyes again, fond. "Yeah, sure, yet."

George laughs, pleased with himself. Then he shrugs. "Ah, I dunno. I guess we'll see if you get nervous then, once it actually happens."

Dream smiles behind his cup. "Idiot."

#dnf #dreamnotfound #idk i sort of shat this out if you will #fic #my writing #mine #thoughts

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