#quick snippet just bc

[callous-and-misunderstood]

Sorry to be obsessed with Evie chopping off her hair as an act of separation from her mother and a declaration of self discovery BUT.

Thinking about how when Evie first rejoins Isle society after her banishment, it's more of a culture shock than anything-- how she's suddenly surrounded by scowls instead of smiles, blood instead of beads, leather instead of lace. How she learns who is willing to trade food for a pretty trinket, survival for a glimpse of something that could have been. How she absorbs callousness and cruelty the same way she used to absorb make up lessons.

How she realizes a mirror can't tell her who she is.

Turns out being able to sew and sew well is rare on the Isle, and well. Evie is an expert thanks to the endless hours her mother insisted she spend over the rickety machine they scavenged.

Soon she has a steady business in stitching scraps into coats and wounds into scars. She moves into one of the rundown buildings closer to the market, her mother no longer the key to her survival.

And she takes in the Isle's style, the culture solely focused on surviving to the future, not the remnants of a past life her mother insisted on clinging to, and she sees herself in gleaming blades and tough leather and blood stains.

She trades in fashionable for functional, skirts for pants, heels for boots, makeup for poisons, jewelry for daggers. She goes from silks to spikes with an ease that surprises even her.

And Evie gains a reputation for herself, one completely separate from her mother's , from their ten-year banishment. She becomes something new, something sharp and sly. Someone worth fearing.

It still takes her a while to part with her hair-- hers is longer than anyone else on the Isle, even the Arabian thief's (and he insisted on measuring to make sure). But after it being used against her in a few too many fights, she plops herself in front of Dizzy Tremaine and says firmly, "Cut it off."

Dizzy knows better than to argue with Evie by this point, even if the older girl is a better sister to her than the ones she had by blood. So she picks up the shears and gets to work.

Evie leaves with half her head shaved to the skin, the other half an angled bob that just brushed her chin. She didn't bother to check the mirror before she left, the breeze tracing her bare neck all the confidence she needed.

When Evie next sees her mother, Grimhilde doesn't recognize her at first. Doesn't see the little girl she raised to be a princess, just sees another kid the Isle chewed up and spit out. But Evie had her mother's colors and symbol, the dagger through a bleeding heart, on her leather jacket, and that's how Grimhilde sees what her daughter has become: a better villain than she could ever have been.

And even though Evie doesn't acknowledge her mother, she keeps the memory of Grimhilde's curt nod of approval close to her now hardened heart.

[whoviandoodler]

this is how this scene went right

[id in alt]

[quietlyblooms]

i've been iconing chiyo's fc and can we please just talk about her lips... ma'am i'm dying of thirst

[deathandthemaiden23]

Me watching the dumbass Mario movie get ten times more acclaim and attention because its Mario than Puss in Boots even though Puss in Boots is easily the superior animated feature in every conceivable aspect and doesn't have a shitty leading voice actor

[v1sexual]

that’s a wrap 🎬 ; vi (arcane)

a behind the senes arcane modern au ! (bcs wtf was that ending)

note : this fic (like all of my other ones) are a bit (a lot actually) self indulgent. this will also be in a third person’s point of view because i’m trying to get used (and get better) writing in a 3rd person’s pov. this is also lowkey a vi x reader *sighs*, i just love my gf so bad ya’ll.

p.s. the character names are also their names in ‘real life’ (because i said so).

cw : spoilers for arcane act 3, swearing,

unedited & not proofread

ever since she got her dream role as one of the leading cast in arcane, she started filming bits and pieces of how the show came to life (with the consent of everyone involved of course). since the filming of season 1 up to season 2 act three, (name) has compiled an hour worth of uncut behind the scenes content that she and the cast planned on releasing during the opening premiere for the last act of arcane.

“you ready shortcake?” (name)’s girlfriend called out, just as she finished putting a thin sheet of lipgloss on her lips. “almost done violet,” she called out, putting her shoes one.

(name) took one last look at herself in the full body mirror, admiring her hard work. she wore a dark red dress paired with sheer black elbow length gloves, and black platform heels with red accents (that violet gifted you a couple months ago).

after shoving her phone inside a red clutch, (name)’s bedroom door opened. violet stood in front of her. she wore a two-piece suit with a dark red button-up blouse tucked inside her pants, the first couple of buttons of the blouse were undone, and her hair (at least the ones on the side of her head that wasn’t shaved) was in a messy slick back.

“absolutely gorgeous,” vi whispered under her breath. she walked towards (name), she placed her hands on her girlfriend’s hips before leaning down to kiss her. “flatterer,” (name) giggled as she pressed a finger against vi’s lips, preventing vi from kissing her.

vi nipped at her girlfriend’s gloved finger, “i speak the truth, and nothing but the truth.” she whispered.

(name) hummed, smiling lovingly as her girlfriend. “thank you baby, you look amazing yourself. hot even.”

a loud noise came from (name) and vi’s phone, interrupting their moment.

“we need to go violet, it’s almost time for the premiere.” (name) exclaimed excitedly, breaking away from her girlfriend. she held onto vi’s arm and practically dragged her outside.

“i don’t get a kiss before we go?” vi pouted, (name) rolled her eyes before pressing a quick peck on vi’s lips then proceeded to get inside the passenger seat of her girlfriend’s car. vi sighed, shaking her head before she went inside the driver seat and thinking how she’d make you pay later for not giving her a proper kiss.

ꕀ

let’s just say that everyone was bawling after premiering the last three episodes of arcane. (name) sat in between vi and her sister powder (whose head was resting against ekko’s shoulder) practically vibrating with excitement as the producers went on stage to thank everyone, especially the fans, for coming to the premiere.

it was almost time to present the special behind the scenes video (name) made. everyone knew of the special little project but no one has really seen it, not the director, the producers, or even her loving girlfriend. soon enough, she was called on stage for a little speech and to present the video.

“hi everyone,” she started, voice shaking a bit. “first of all i would like to thank you for coming to tonight’s premiere. it’s been an honor to work with you for the past couple of years. as you all know, i’ve been compiling tons of little snippets of us ever since the production of arcane has started. all in all, i’ve collected an hour’s worth of behind the scenes content. since i didn’t want to keep all of us in here for another hour or so i’ve edited the video and out came the 10 minute behind the scenes compilation that i’m about to play. but don’t worry, i’ve already uploaded the original uncut version to the shared online album for everyone to view.”

a series of murmurs and giggles filled the audience as (name) gave herself a second to pause. “anyways,” you cleared your throat. “without further ado, i present, arcane : behind all the heartbreak and drama, enjoy!”

when (name) sat down next to her girlfriend, the video started rolling.

ꕀ

scene one.

the camera unfocused and focused as a young looking (name) had her face up to close to it’s lens. she had a cheeky smile on her face.

“hi guys! it’s (name) and today is the first day of filming arcane!” she then proceeded to flip the camera and did a little trailer tour. she the went outside where she introduced everyone in the cast as well as the director and producers.

scene two.

the video cuts to what seems to be the scene where the battle between silco and vander happened. (name) shows the audience the set, some of the special effects, and had the actresses for young vi and powder do a little question and answer for her.

“hey girls!” she called out. the two children ran towards her, giddy smiles on their faces. it was right after filming the scene of vi and powder’s falling out, when vi called powder a jinx.

“how does the nose feel?” (name) asked, gingerly touching child powder’s nose that hade fake blood dripping from it. the child shrugged, replying “i’ve had worse. she punches like a little girl.” which made the tween who played young vi roll her eyes.

“that’s a bunch of bull! she cried actual tears, like real tears! she totally wasn’t acting”

(name) sighed and left the two children to playfully argue before the camera cuts to vander and silco. the two men were taking a nap on the side of the set, both had their arms crossed and head leaning against the wall. “they truly are brother,” she spoke into the camera.

the scene cuts again, this time (name) was with the kids who played mylo and claggor.

“as you can see i am not dead,” mylo shouted at the camera, a cheeky grin on his face. while claggor imitates mylo’s death scene, his hand clutching where the steel bar pierces mylo’s skin before dramatically falling to the ground and laughing his ass off.

scene three.

(name)’s camera was propped up against a mirror, she was currently in the hair and make-up booth with jayce, viktor, and mel. she held her mic against her, “so my dearest mel, how does it feel to have everyone wish they were jayce during that one scene?” (name) wiggled her eyebrows as mel began laughing uncontrollably.

“all i can say is i’d rather have the beautiful zaunite enforcer rather than the golden boy,” mel said jokingly into the mic, referring to (name)’s character in the show. making everyone in the dressing room laugh.

the scene then cuts to what seems to be (name) reading people’s tweets regarding the show to the rest of the cast.

“jayce this one’s directed to you,” (name) said in between laughs. “i hate hate hate jayce talis. imagine being in the lap of a literal goddess but all you is cry and whine about your historic twink bag fumble.”

jayce was dumbfounded as everyone doubled up in laughter. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!?” he shouted. poor boy looked so confused, he looked like he had stroke trying to understand what historic twink bag fumble meant.

“this last one is for vik,” (name) started as the laughter died down (jayce still consfused in the background, asking vi what ‘historic twink bag fumble’ meant). “one of the fans said, ‘can i lick-“ almost immediately (name) started laughing.

“they said ‘can i lick viktor’s hextechticles.’” almost immediately everyone started laughing again, the sounds of boisterous laughter filled the room.

viktor’s cheeks tinted pink, he gripped his stomach as he laughed. “i have no idea how to respond to that.” he wheezed into the mic.

scene four.

“good morning everyone!” (name) exclaimed, waving at the camera. “we have my fave girl with us. the one, the only, caitlyn!”

the blue haired girl grinned, “but i’m not your favorite-“ she said in a teasing tone before got she cut off.

“you are my favorite girl,” (name) huffed, a visible blush paints her cheek as caitlyn rolled her eyes playfully.

she then proceeded to do a quick set tour, showing the audience how it really looked like without any cgi and all that jazz. the scene ends with (name) and caitlyn yapping about routines or rituals that helped them get in the mood to play their characters.

scene five.

this clip was taken during the filming of season two. (name) smiled at camera, her fingers on her lips in a shushing expression then pans the camera behind her. she was in one of the dressing rooms, and in the corner was sevika, powder (dressed up as jinx), and isha, who were sound asleep.

“look at this cute little dysfunctional family,” (name) whispered. sevika had powder leaning on her shoulder as isha was sprawled on her lap.

scene six.

“don’t fret ya’ll she’s alive!” (name) shouted at the camera, holding isha out like a sacrificial lamb. the camera seemed like it was held by someone significantly taller than her, the angle looking a bit funny as she held isha up.

the child laughed, (name) then propped the kid on her hip. powder then walked in-frame, she took isha from (name)’s hold and helped the kid up on her shoulders. “SHE’S ALIVEEEE!” powder shouted before running around the set, her hands supporting the kid’s weight.

“i swear if she dropped the kid-“ a voice from behind the camera mumbled.

“they’re gonna be fine vi,” (name) laughed. “let them be.”

scene seven.

during this scene, instead of the usual (name) who filmed most (if not all) the videos, it was cait and powder who held the camera. a cheeky grin etched on their lips. the camera then flipped to show their surroundings.

lo and behold, it was vi. she was cocooned in a thick blanket snoring away without a care in the world. cait then proceeded to walk towards her. once close enough, she held the camera at an angle to show (name) who was tucked between vi’s legs, her head resting against vi’s chest with the blanket almost covering her whole body.

“aren’t they the cutest,” cait snickered.

“can’t beat the dating allegations now,” powder replied with a snort.

scene eight.

“i’m actually bawling,” (name) whispered into the camera before adjusting it to show the rest of the set. the others are currently in the middle of filming a scene for act 3, she zoomed the camera to powder and ekko. they were dancing as the song ‘ma meilleure ennemie’ played in the background.

mylo and claggor’s hushed voices joined (name)’s as she continued to film, then suddenly the camera was yanked away and mylo’s face entered the frame.

“for anyone wondering, they’re actually dating in real life.” mylo whispered, claggor then appeared next to him with an unamused expression. “that was supposed to be a secret! they’re not out in the public yet.” he scolded.

“well, you can tell by the chemistry and tension between them. doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. have you seen the dating rumours?”

(name)’s sigh was visibly heard before snatching the camera. “if by then ekko and power hasn’t come out as a couple yet i’ll just cut this part out.” she murmured.

scene nine.

“what is everyone’s fave song from the series?” (name) said, reading aloud the question written in a piece of paper.

“that’s a tough one,” ambessa said.

“probably to ashes and blood,” sevika exclaimed, then nods of agreement and murmurs filled the room.

“mine’s a no brainer,” heimerdinger piped. “my favorite song is spin the wheel, sung by yours truly.” everyone laughed, a couple people agreed as others began playfully teasing heimerdinger.

(name) smiled at her friends before looking at the camera. “my favorite has to be our love or ma meillure ennemie.”

“enemy by imagine dragons!”

everyone then proceeded to sing the song, goofily making sound effects and lowering their voices.

scene ten.

(name) panned the camera up, she zoomed in on vi and powder as they acted one of the most heartbreaking scenes in act 3. vi’s gauntlet clutched powder’s hand as the blue haired girl dangled, vander, who was dressed in the pre-cgi warwick costume, held her, the wires supporting their weights.

tears streamed down vi’s face as she looked down at her sister, she opened her mouth to deliver her line but nothing came out.

“crap, i forgot the line. wait.” she called out, smiling sheepishly.

the director sighed, “cut! let’s roll that again.”

powder laughed and shakes her head. “you fucking idiot.”

“cut it out you two,” vander scolded, his deep voice menacing yet playful.

“yeah, yeah.” vi replied, then held a thumbs up to signal that she was ready.

(name)’s laughs can be heard from behind the camera, she then flipped it to show her face. “you guys are about to hate every single thing about this scene i just know it.” caitlyn appeared next to her, she nursed a cup of coffee and smiled at the camera.

“be sure to keep your eyes open though,” was all caitlyn said before winking and walking away.

ꕀ

pictures taken from the set began to appear in a slideshow as the video ended. almost everyone was in shambles, especially the fans who were invited to come to the premiere. a round of applause echoed across the room as the producers step onto the stage again for the closing remarks.

the event ended a couple hours later than expected. the cast mingled, had a late dinner and a couple of drinks. everyone was enjoying themselves and having fun one last time before they went their separate ways.

“sad to think how i won’t be seeing everyone everyday now,” (name) whispered sadly as she and vi sat in one corner of the room. “i sure will miss everyone.”

vi draped an arm over her girlfriend’s shoulders, she leaned down until her face was adjacent to (name)’s. “not us though.” vi smiled teasingly.

“won’t you get tired of me though?” (name) asked, her hands cupped vi’s cheeks. her girlfriend snorted, acting as if she had just told a funny joke. “not by a long shot cupcake.”

the two leaned forward, their noses touching, lips only centimetres apart. just as about their lips met, cait’s voice startled them.

“i’m gonna have to borrow my best girl for a second vi,” she teased. “you can have (name) all to yourself later but for now we need to dance.”

the next thing (name) knew she was being dragged to dance floor by caitlyn, loud music blasting as her friend swayed. she looked back at vi who shrugged at her, a smile playing on her lips. (name) smiled before blowing her girlfriend a kiss. soon enough everybody joined them on the dance floor. ekko, powder, and isha danced in a circle, sevika who was reluctantly dragged by mel, jayce and viktor who gawked at heimerdinger (who was absolutely smashing the dance floor by the way), and then there was mylo who was talking to the dj as claggor did his best in becoming wingman of the year. some stayed seated and chose to drink, like silco, vander, and ambessa, who watched the others danced.

soon enough, the night finally ended. a couple people who were sober chaperoned those who were drunk, some opted to stay in nearby hotels. after saying their goodbyes, vi and (name) drove back to their shared apartment.

“that was fun,” (name) yawned as she plopped down on the couch, vi knelt in front of her started taking off her girlfriend’s shoes.

“tired?” she asked, rubbing the soles of (name)’s sore feet making the smaller girl groan. she responded with a soft ‘yes’, before closing her eyes. the sensation of vi’s lips making it’s way up her thigh startled her, her eyes fluttered open as she looked down.

vi smiled pressing another kiss on her girlfriend’s thigh before hiking them up and resting them on her shoulders. (name)’s dress pooled at her upper thigh, exposing her soft skin. “you sure?” vi whispered.

“mmm,” (name) hummed. “maybe not too tired.” she answered, making her girlfriend chuckle.

“good,” vi murmured against (name)’s skin. “because you’re in for a long night shortcake.”

[h4m1lt0ns]

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode nine :: LIFE’S GOOD

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴max verstappen x ex!y/n (barely), multiple x y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔something is brewing at the Y/l/n Records HQ

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ wonyoung jang (28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕ SO much happens, worlds colliding on twitter, excessive cussing.

y/n

♡ liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, landonorris and 7,205,638 more.

y/n fried my hair last night lol 🌟 blame goes fully to ﹫lilymhe and ﹫alexalbon

2,205,593 comments.

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[liked by y/n]

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[liked by y/n]

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☆ IMESSAGE with : BOARD OF DIRECTORS.

honey badger: Y/NNNNNN

chal eclair: BAE AMSWER ME

babygirl alex: wait what’s going on

alabono: WE NEED DETAILSSSS

angel carmen: huh

wifey lily: why are the boys yelling

yukino: WE NEVER FOUND OUT WHAT HAPPENED AT THE DINNER WITH JENSON, LEWIS AND MARK

my baby lando: MOTHER WHERE ARE YOU

princess george: OMFG BITCH PICK UP

girlfriend kika: we got the tea baes relax 😌

PIERRE GASLYYYY: WOWWWWWWW OKAY

honey badger: WHY ARE WE THE LAST TO FIND THINGS OUT

angel carmen: bc we’re her girlfriends 🤨

babygirl alex: exactly 🥰

chili!: y/n 😀

chili!: bae 😄

chili!: your time will come.

chal eclair: kika, you shall come forth.

chal eclair: speak the truth you hide.

babygirl alex: taking that lord perceval real serious huh

my baby lando: LMFAO

princess george: LMAOOOO

alabono: stfu y’all i’m tryna understand

girlfriend kika: funny enough nothing REALLY happened

angel carmen: yeah they just hung out and talked

wifey lily: oh and jenson was flirty w y/n

my baby lando: yeah we saw the photos

babygirl alex: they went out as a way to cheer lewis up bc his team didn’t show up for him

angel carmen: i dont know what’s going on between y/n and lewis but she said lewis got kinda jealous when mark and jenson were casually flirting w her

my baby lando: oh????

PIERRE GASLYYYY: jealous you say

honey badger: HMMMMM

chili!: right ????

chal eclair: it’s actually soOOoo

alabono: it isssss

princess george: speaking of lewis

princess george: apparently him and y/n are like hanging out

yukino: wait what???

my baby lando: wdym

princess george: wait did you not see y/n’s story??? they’re on his yacht in monaco

y/n added to their story!

seen by lewishamilton, jensonbutton and 98,295,194 more.

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☆ IMESSAGE with : BOARD OF DIRECTORS.

chili!: WOAHHHH I JUST SAW IT

yukino: WHATS GOING ONNNNNN

babygirl alex: she’s so fucking hot, first of all

angel carmen: no bc i just stared at her 😍

wifey lily: I KNOWWWW

girlfriend kika: she’s so 😩😩😩

babygirl alex: BUT LEWIS???

chal eclair: SHE TAGGED HIM???

babygirl alex: PUBLICLY???

alabono: NOW WHATS GOING ON

my baby lando: KIKA EXPLAIN

girlfriend kika: IM JUST AS SHOOK AS YALL

angel carmen: I NEED TO KNOW

princess george: i was hoping the girls knew something abt that 😭😭😭

honey badger: Y/N GET IN HERE

honey badger: Y/N OMFG

chili!: BRO I KNOW YOURE SEEING THIS ANSWER US

wifey lily: DID HE ASK YOU OUT

my baby lando: IS IT A DATE???

girlfriend kika: IS ROSCOE THERE??

PIERRE GASLYYYY: ARE YALL ONE ON ONE??

alabono: Y/N TEXT US BACK OMFG

wifey lily: SHE’S NOT ANSWERING MY FT CALLS

girlfriend kika: SHE’S NOT ANSWERING ME EITHER

princess george: Y/N I NEED ANSWERS

my baby lando: Y/N PLS

y/n: give her a minute

chili!: HUH

yukino: YO WHAT THE FUCK

chal eclair: give HER a minute???

my baby lando: oh so we’re being cryptic now???

y/n: No.

my baby lando: don’t text me in that tone 😭

PIERRE GASLYYYY: ¿¿¿¿

honey badger: what the hell is going on

y/n: she’s busy

angel carmen: NOW HOLD AWN

angel carmen: HOLDDDD ONNNN

angel carmen: LEWIS????????

y/n: yeah

y/n: dw y/n’s okay she’s with me

my baby lando: what do u want from my mum 🤨

chili!: what he said 🤨

chal eclair: yeah what he said 🤨

y/n: lol relax

y/n: we’re just hanging out

wifey lily: sir, give me my gf back.

y/n: your girlfriend??

babygirl alex: our*

angel carmen: our*

girlfriend kika: our*

y/n:…

y/n: we’ll see

alabono: FYM????

honey badger: HELLO???

princess george: SIR???

girlfriend kika: guys they’re all over twitter omg

mercedesamgf1 and y/l/nestate

♡ liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, y/n and 14,604,295 more.

mercedesamgf1 We here at Mercedes are extremely honoured and proud to announce that Y/L/N RECORDS is our brand new sponsor! Grammy and Oscar winning Singer and Song writer, Y/n Y/l/n has always been a huge Formula 1 fan, and a close friend to George, Lewis and many other drivers on the grid. She’s shown constant support throughout the years and her love and passion for the sport is what drew us to her (and so did her iconic, groundbreaking discography 😉). Y/L/N RECORDS is now proudly our biggest sponsor, and Y/n Y/l/n will be the official Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula 1 team Brand Ambassador as of today and moving forward. A huge, huge thank you and congratulations goes to ﹫Y/n, ﹫Y/L/NEstate and the Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula 1 Team! Welcome to the grid Y/L/N RECORDS ⭐️

tagged: y/n, y/l/nestate.

comments on this post have been limited.

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[thatbugkidd]

Cyn and Uzi have a particularly.. interesting relationship in this AU

Their dynamic is a tedious journey of manipulation, mistrust, and gradual vulnerability with one another!! In the beginning their relationship is definitely very tense, with Uzi suspicious of any of Abso's subordinates and Cyn very manipulative and demeaning. Despite this, they do have a deep rooted respect for each other, not that either of them would admit it. It is a bit overshadowed by Cyn's manipulative tendencies and uzi's defensive hostility. Its.. not super healthy. But they still have an undeniable attraction to each other. Cyn admires Uzi's bite, and willingness to talk back to her, something few others do.

And Uzi might oddly admire Cyn's confidence, her ability to turn any situation to her advantage. She's quick on her feet and has wits, Uzi can respect that.

Uzumi, more generally known as Uzi, is quietly renowned for her innovation and knack for building weapons, which catches the attention of the head crime lord, Abso. Cyn is tasked with keeping an eye on Uzi to make sure she doesn't become a threat and is kept underway. here's a little snippet i planned for their first meeting hehe

Cyn enters the tattered workshop uninvited, leaning casually against the doorframe, smirking as she takes in the scattered tools and half-finished contraptions.

"So this is where the magic happens. I expected something... less chaotic. But then again, chaos has its charm."

Uzi, without looking up, coldly responds "If you’re here to buy, I don’t sell to Abso’s lackeys."

A harsh scoff was heard, Cyn exaggerating faux offense, "Lackey? Ouch. I like to think of myself as... freelance talent. Though, I do have a certain reputation to uphold."

Finally looking at her, unimpressed, Uzi snarls her nose "Yeah, I’ve heard. ‘Queen of Cyn.’ What, did you come up with that yourself, or was that Abso’s idea?”

Cyn chuckles, moving closer to inspect one of Uzi’s gadgets.

"You’ve got a sharp tongue, I’ll give you that. But I’m not here to pick a fight. I’m here to talk business. You and I—we’re not so different, you know." She trailed off, tracing the rough metal of the gadget, "we're both just trying to get by."

Uzi snatched the gadget out of Cyn’s hands, glaring at her, "We’re nothing alike. Now, leave before I show you how fast this thing can melt through steel."

Cyn grinned, leaning in closer "Oh, I like you."

The arcane au has been a lot of fun so far, I'm enjoying giving it its own story. >:3

Unfortunately small little update!! My mental health has been taking quite a dip and with holidays coming round, I'm just really stressed out as of late so activity may drop for a bit while I focus on myself. I got some art backed up that I'll try to be posting :3 but I'm gonna spend a couple weeks taking it slow and doing some art studies, games, etc bc my art has just been frustrating me so much!! If it had a physical vessel I'd beat the shit out of it rn tbh BUT just wanted to give a little heads up

[mahg-stuff]

Hi. Can I request a big daddy elvis (late 70s) in which he and female reader are having an argument and he says something really mean so she heads into the bedroom and cries. He goes into the bedroom to apologize and then make out. Smut, detailed if you can and also some aftercare. Thanks

Tysm for the request! Enjoy it lovee! ♡

Kiss'n make it better

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Word count: 6.4k (quick) Summary: Bde grows stuffy as he witnesses you playing a card game with the guys, but not only that, you are in your delicate bed attire while you do it. Pairing: (1976)bd!elvis x afab!reader Warnings: 18+!, smut, p in v, elvis finally fully takes the reader, cherry cream pie (if you know what I mean...), kissing whilst bodily fluids are present on the mouth, tasting of bodily fluids, playing around with spit?oral fixation?, mention of elvis’ medications/pill use & dr. nick (im sorry), elvis’ standards for his women, toxicity, once again elvis being volatile, use of the word daddy, & of course fluff + baby talk!!

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AN: Hello there! I was off and on while writing this since I was eager to let it out soon bc I felt I’d left the anon hanging for too long so, certain areas may seem rushed/lack context but I did my best with the details! I hope it’s not a bother, but overall I enjoyed writing this little piece. Anywho, my dear anon I hope you are pleased with this! And to the rest of you loves, enjoy! ♡ (keep the requests coming!!😚)

- pls excuse any errors, your girl got tired half way through cleaning it up 🥹💋

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Elvis was, as of now, getting his day-by-day measurements of meds from Dr. Nick within the master bathroom in his room. In the meantime, you held up in his bed, twiddling your thumbs as you waited, you both had just woken up. He would always make sure to do it in a different room, given that you had eventually told him that you didn't enjoy seeing everything they put in him. When you witnessed firsthand how much his body had to ingest, you expressed your concern, but he waved you off, saying everything was always under control.

At some point, you stopped showing concern upfront to him because it had resulted in the first argument between the two of you, however, you'd unconsciously always be pinching away at your arm's flesh as you worried about him. You were still relatively new to his lifestyle, but you were gradually adapting.

Things were taking quite a while, so you began wandering around his room. You'd only been together for a few months now, so you were still trying to settle in. Elvis asked you to move in right away, and you soon found out he didn't like being left alone. As you moved around the room, you were still in your night slip. It was a look that he found especially appealing. You tip-toed barefoot to the door, peeking outside, and then back over to the closed bathroom door in the bedroom. 

You heard them mumbling inside and decided, Why not go downstairs? 

Making your entrance to the living room and taking in more glances of the house you hadn't paid much attention to before, your eyes shot up towards the voices in the kitchen. As you peered into the kitchen, you saw two of his guys sitting there chatting with some cards in their hands. They took notice of your presence and glanced over at you, their eyes lingering on your attire. Going quite unnoticed by you. 

One clears his throat.

"Hey there, y/n, ya need anythin'?" 

You shrug, not really knowing what you need or want, but feeling a bit restless. 

"No, just bored waiting on El," you reply absentmindedly. 

One of the guys chuckles and nudges the other, whispering something to him. You catch a snippet of their conversation and wonder if they're talking about you.

"What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. 

The guys exchange glances before one of them speaks up, struggling to find the right words. 

"Oh, nothin', just...you know...we were just talkin' 'bout how...um...how fashionable you look today." 

You give them a skeptical look, not fully convinced by their compliment. 

"Really? They're just my pajamas, the first thing I found in the closet last night," you admit with a sheepish shrug as you look down at your delicate garments. 

They both burst into laughter, causing you to giggle along. The guys exchange knowing glances, struggling to contain their amusement at your naivety. Being new in Elvis' life and feeling a bit clueless around the guys sometimes—I mean, you'd never been surrounded by so many men before, so it was uncommon for you to catch their brash ways.

 

One of the guys begins talking, "Since you're bored, why don't ya join us? We're playin’ a card game." 

You happily agree and take a seat at the table. They explain the rules to you as one of them shuffles the deck of cards. The game soon progresses, and the guys bring out their competitive sides, teasing each other and making playful taunts. Even though they might’ve been acting a little abruptly, it was clear that they were enjoying themselves. Amidst the banter, one of the guys turns to you with a mischievous grin. 

"Hey, watch out, I wouldn't want ya to get too confused with all these cards. It might be a bit too much for a girl to handle," he says snarkily. 

You titter and shake your head, clearly letting the comment go over and past your head. 

"I can handle." 

You say it humbly.

***

Elvis, grumbling his way downstairs to look where you'd wandered off, stops at the bottom of the stairway as he hears his precious girl's laughter from the kitchen. He stalks quietly towards the doorframe of the kitchen, there he sees you sitting pretty with his men. He scans your body until he gets to your bare, wriggling sooties that are dangled just above the ground in the chair. Elvis clenches his fists, feeling his irritation rise at the sight of you playing with the guys.

As he watches, he can't help but notice the unkempt yet alluring exterior you possess. Your tousled hair and streaked makeup from the night before only seem to enhance your beauty, giving you a tempting appeal that could captivate those around you. He had set certain expectations for you, and seeing you in this compromising situation with the guys confirms that you were not fulfilling them. He storms in, his footsteps echoing through the room as he confronts the scene before him. 

"Darlin', you know bedder than to be gallivantin' 'round in your night attire with these fellas." He narrows his eyes, his southern accent thickening as he speaks.

Your head quickly turned to that familiar gruff voice, his appearance matching the roughness in his tone. There he stood, portly and only in a silk robe, a region of dark hair trailing down his navel from the open slit and his luscious sideburns framing his face. His noir hair, slightly disheveled from a restless night, completed the picture of a man who demanded attentiveness. As you caught his gaze, you could see a mix of disappointment and fret in his eyes. You instinctively straightened up, feeling a twinge of shame creeping into your conscience for some reason as you looked down at your attire and then back at him. 

"Well, I thought it'd be okay. I mean, I do live here now. Shouldn't I be comfortable, El?" You voiced cunningly, not purposefully trying to provoke him but unable to resist the urge to justify yourself. 

But there was an inimitable standard he held you to, one that required impeccability and grace. 

"Goddammit!" He started. 

"No man's woman should be 'round men in such whorey showin' garments. 'Specially not mah women!" 

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his strong reaction. The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew tense, and you could feel the weight of his disapproval pressing down on you. 

His pride was unexpected for you. 

As you searched for words to respond, his intense gaze never wavered, making you feel insecure and exposed. 

"W-Well, the guys think otherwise!" You spoke aloud as your throat tightened. Well, at least you thought they didn't find your attire whorey—a word Elvis had introduced to you when he saw an outfit you picked out while shopping with him. 

Elvis glared over at them, and they both quickly stood up from their positions, some cards falling off the table as they did so. 

"That right?" 

"N-No Ep, 'course not." They stood there longer than they should have. 

"The hell y'all still doin' standin' here, for?! Go on an' do sumn then." Elvis spoke sternly as he pointed, his robe falling more open with his motion. 

The guys hastily scampered away, not wanting to further incur Elvis' anger. You look at Elvis, noticing his neglected appearance and glazed eyes. Nervous, you place your cards down, your eyebrows puckering in disarray. 

"What was that, Elvis?" you ask softly, but your voice is filled with slight perplexity. 

"They didn't do anything." You squeaked. 

"Didn't do anyhtin'." He scoffed under his breath. He shook his head and met your gaze again. 

"Matter uh fact, the hell were you thinkin' wonderin' off?" His words were a bit slurred. 

"Know all yur attention should be on me, 'n only me." Elvis' words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of fury and vulnerability. 

You could sense an ache behind his harsh tone, and it struck a chord within you. 

"Elvis." You delicately said his name, the concern evident in your voice.

But before you could continue, he raised his voice again, his drooping eyes glaring. 

"Kept mah eyes off ya for just uh moment, den I find you playin' bimbo wit' 'em fellas." 

Your heart sank as Elvis' words echoed in the room. 

This wasn't your Elvis. 

Your bottom lip quivered as you stood up from your seat, covering your face with one hand as you moved to leave the room. 

"The hell are ya goin'." He says this as he tries to stop you, but you pull away forcefully and hastily walk upstairs. 

Elvis hears your faint sniffle from the hallway, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. He paced around, mumbling words to himself as he held his forehead, trying to make sense of what just happened. 

It was clear that his head wasn't in the right place. 

***

As Elvis continued to pace, he barely grasps the impact of his words and considers the hurt he may have caused. 

"Baby," he muffles to himself as he looks around. 

He rubs his eyes and begins to walk towards the staircase. 

"Baby." He muffled again, as if he were whispering a plea into the empty space. 

He reaches the top step and hesitates, unsure of whether to knock on the closed bedroom door or barge right in. 

"B-Baby, a-a-ah wannas come in," he says gently in his gruff voice. 

"W-Wanna come in." Elvis stands in front of the door, his voice quivering with desperation. 

His babyish tone reveals the depth of his regret. Your ears perk up on the other side of the door, straining to catch every word. You can sense the turmoil in his voice, the vulnerability, and the longing.

It's a side of him you were weak for, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Slowly, you rise from the bed, your footsteps barely audible as you make your way to the door. With a shaken hand, you turn the knob and open the door, revealing Elvis standing there, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. He takes in your appearance—your tear stained cheeks, red, fuzzy nose, and the slight puffiness of your eyes. His face softens with concern, and without a word, he pulls you into a tight embrace. Your face buried into his exposed, hairy, warm torso through the opening of his robe. 

Feverishly, he brings his large palms up to either side of your face and pulls your face upwards. Taking in your babyfaced features. Your damp lashes flutter as you meet his gaze. 

"A-Ah made my little 'un cry." he mumbles as he grazes the pad of his thumb under your eye. 

"Y-Ya know ah ain't meant what I said back dere," he continues, his voice filled with veracity. 

"M-My temper… mah words came out wrong. A-Ah, wudnit wha I meant—", he trails off just before he wavers off, trying to focus his eyesight all of a sudden. 

As his eyelids droop, a gentle sigh escapes his lips. You can see the drowsiness etched across his weathered face, the lines deepening in the dim light of the room. 

It always tortured you when you saw him like this. 

You noticed it was one of the many effects the pills had on him, before starting him up, they'd slow him down first. 

Even with his abrupt weariness, you recognize that sincerity in his voice and the sorryness in his slumped eyes. You reached out and took his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it, offering a silent reassurance that you understood what he was trying to get out. 

You cared deeply for him, so forgiving him always came in a hurry for you.

***

As you both stood there, the grogginess began to fade, and his eyes soon became more and more focused. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. He gave your cheek a gentle squeeze. His gaze lingered on your face as he continued to graze his thumb gently on your cheek. 

"Let me m-make it up t-ta mah sweet girl, hmm." He says it so softly with that drawl of his.

As you listen to his soft voice, filled with tenderness and warmth, it becomes evident that he was speaking to you with the same affection one would reserve for a baby. One of his traits you had gotten used to and valued thoroughly. Your cheeks fill with warmth. He holds you by the waist, turning you over, and fully enters the bedroom with you. Shutting the door, he then leads you to the bed, helping you sit down on the edge. Elvis sits down beside you, and you feel the bed sink from his weight. 

He turns your face over to him, and he places a hand on your cheek. He begins caressing your face ever so lightly, as if you were made of spun glass. 

"Kiss'n make it better." He mumbles pouty-lippedly as his thumb runs over your lips. 

You stare into his hollow eyes, nodding, as he begins to push his thumb into your small mouth. Politely opening your mouth for him, the taste of his skin lingers on your tongue as his thumb explores the contours of your mouth. You both hold each other's gaze, and you lightly suckle on it, watching his eyes light up at your action. He gently brings his thumb out, a string of saliva dribbling down your lip. Elvis smudges your saliva all around your soft pout, making your lips appear glossy, then brings his thumb up to his lips to suck off your slobber. As you both continue your intimate encounter, the air around you seems to grow heavier. His fingers then work their way down your torso, tracing your dainty body. With a famished mutter, he slides his hand beneath your slip, teasingly grazing over your soft, small chest, giving one of your nipples a tug. You can't help but whimper at his action.

And want grows between you, feeling a surge of heat run from your face down to your toes. 

"C'mere, let ol’ daddy kiss ya," he leans in, capturing your lips in a fervent, persistent kiss. 

The taste of him fills your palate as he slips his tongue inside your pretty mouth. You find yourself feeling fuzzy in the rush of the moment, willingly giving into his actions. His large hands begin gripping your small waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. His supple kisses had always been tender and gentle, but this one was different. It left you almost breathless. His touch was heavy, and you found yourself slipping in the heat of the moment. Your slip rises upwards at his action, revealing the pair of tiny matching ruffled shorts. 

He breaks the kiss for a moment, his pillowy lips glistening. His eyes lock onto yours—a look of want. Elvis' hefty hand goes down to your upper thigh, and he grazes the fabric of your shorts. 

"Take 'em off, 'ittle." He rasps quietly, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

Your breath hitches with a half-laugh. "Kay." You gently get off the bed and look over at him as he keenly stares at you with his still-glazed-over eyes. 

A look you may never get used to. 

You began pulling down at the hem of your waistband until the fabric hit the ground, being completely bare underneath. 

While the length of your slip fell just enough to cover your most delicate parts, he whispered, "Lemme see her." 

His voice is playful as he motions for you to come closer.

You take a step toward him. He reaches out and gently tugs at your hip, his thumb rubbing your hipbone, sending a muzzy feeling to your belly. With his other hand, he reaches over to the hem of the fabric, pulling it up—he throbs between his legs.

From his view, he could see all of you. Your narrow hips and thighs and the smallest patch of curls that covered your pussy. The little crease in the middle—so sweet, you were puffy, and sticky just from his kisses. You looked over at his garb—his robe now fully undone from all his movement, also nothing underneath. You took in as the section of his body hair went from his pudgy chest to his soft belly, which hung just barely over his waistline, and then turned into thick curls at his mound. His corpulent and hard, leaky cock presently standing tall just for you against his paunch. You gazed at the ridge of his pretty, purplish, rosy tip weep as it peeked from his foreskin.

Suddenly, you jolted as you felt his thumb at your swollen clit, a splotchy pink filling your cheeks. His touch was gentle yet firm, his fingers perfectly caressing your sensitive nub. You couldn't help but whimper, the lovely sound escaping your pursed lips as your hips instinctively bucked against his digit. 

"Ain't nothin' more purdy than seein' you all pink 'n warmed up. Could spend all day thumbin' away at that ‘dorable clit uh yours." He babbled as he applied more pressure and quickened the pace of his movements. 

Making you even more rosy. 

You could feel the heat building between your legs, the ache for release becoming almost unbearable. Every swipe of his thumb seemed to bring you closer to the edge, pushing you towards the brink of ecstasy. Your back began to arch as you leaned into his touch, but just as you were almost there, he pulled his thumb away. You let out a frustrated whimper, desperately wanting him to continue, then you went to cup yourself until he swiftly stopped you. 

"Dun cha get greedy on me now," he whispered, his voice coated with directness and a hint of humor. 

You couldn't help but pout, your need for satisfaction overwhelmed your senses. You ached. He had never stopped on the brink of your release like this before. His hand left your trembling body, resulting in you feeling empty and yearning for more. You watched as he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting the remnants of your sweet desire, a sly smile playing on his lips. The rosiness in your cheeks seems to grow darker with his action.

"Ah can't have ya fallin' apart jus yet," he murmured, his voice low. 

You looked at him doe-eyed as you clamped your legs, standing there. 

"Little 'un." Elvis whispered as he reached out for a hand. 

"Idenit time for ya to blossom," he continued as he pulled you closer, his warm breath hitting your cheek. "'ittle flower of yours needs ta bloom." Elvis gave you a nod as he spoke and guided you. 

"Bloom," you repeated as you held his strong gaze, and he began helping you lay on the bed. 

"Mhm, correct baby." He cooed as he helped you lie down. 

When you finally understood what he had said, your heart seemed to race. Staring up at the mirror above you on the ceiling, you took in as you laid delicately on his silk bedding. You began recalling the past nights and days of glancing up at yourself while Elvis rutted against your tummy when he cuddled you until he came, or when he'd only do little more than barely let the tip of his cock pierce your tiny hole—but never more than that. 

Now, he indicated that he wanted to take things further. You were both a little afraid and excited by it. Even so, you were genuinely more willing than ever. It made you rub your legs together thinking about it. You would constantly pester him for more, but he would tell you that it wasn't the right moment and that he knew when it would be. Thinking of his words from earlier, you thought maybe this would be his way of making it better after he'd lashed out. Maybe, he wanted to make it up to you by fully fulfilling your needs. You beamed at the thought.

Lost in your little mind, you were interrupted as you felt the bed sink next to you.

There he lay, still in his loose, silky garb, fully open, his hairy manliness laying solid against his belly while his balls were perfectly nestled below his shaft. You looked over at him as he began lying on his side to face you. His jawline was soft and his cheeks full, adding to the suppleness of his overall appearance. His overgrown sideburns adding to his rugged allure. The word ‘mesmerizing’ repeating in your head.

"Rest on yur side f'me, baby." You began turning over for him, but before you could, he stopped you—he saw the mild unease in your eyes. 

His hand cradled the side of your cheek as your eyes stared into his. However, he couldn't help but smile, thinking your muddled face looked adorable. 

"Hers dudden needs to be afraid." He whispered softly and patted your head now. 

With each light pat on your head, his warmth enveloped you, making you feel comforted in his presence. You smiled back at him softly, it sort of surprised you when he caught it. 

"H-Her knows." You whispered back in the same way he spoke to you. 

It was really rubbing off on you, for sure.

He leaned in, placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, and then motioned for you to rest on your side. Such a baby, you thought as you gave his chubby face one last glance. As you shifted onto your side, he scooted in closer, so he was spooning you, his round stomach pressing into you. You felt the hardness of his length up against your lower back, feeling the warmth radiating off as it throbbed against the thin fabric of your slip. You couldn't deny the growing ache between your legs, yearning for his touch and for him to take control. 

Elvis began lifting the hem of your garment, exposing your bare, pretty, round backside to him. His hand rested on the curve of your hip, his touch both firm and gentle. A shiver ran down your spine as his palm traced delicate patterns on your skin, sending those funny feelings through your body. You felt him move your leg a bit, so your pussy lips were peeking out between your thighs from his view. You felt him pulsing along your rear now, slick already forming at your petals. You couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. You heard him snicker behind you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Elvis grabbed his thick shaft in one hand and brought it between your thighs, your slick and his precum mixing into one as he rubbed the ridge of his cock along your lips. 

Eagerly, you try to slide down, so his tip pushes up towards your entrance. 

"Careful, too big for yuh to take so fast," he warns as you bare down on his leaky tip. 

You move back unconsciously, and the head of cock grazes at your swollen clit causing you to shudder. 

Trying again, you huff, "Won't fit." 

Elvis is quite amused by this, and he tittered as he leaned into your neck for a quick peck. 

You feel his warm breath against your skin as he whispers, "Baby, needa take time t'stretch ya out properly." 

He trails his fingers along your inner thighs, teasingly rubbing circles on your sensitive heat. Your body reacts, flushing with chills and impatience. You can feel yourself clenching at nothing. Elvis raises the leg you weren’t resting on with his other arm, and you blush at how vulnerable you seem in the pose. He moves the hand he was massaging you with toward your mouth. You understood what he meant, of course. Carefully, you used your hand to hold the back of his large one as you carefully spit into it. You watch as Elvis gruffly giggles at your compliance as you gaze up at the mirror, his eyes peeking over you as he watches his hand lower back down.

Bringing his hand back down to your throbbing core, now slick with both your juices and saliva. His fingers glide along your folds, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. As his thumb brushes against your clit, a shudder runs through your body, aching for more. You arch your back, silently begging for his touch to become more demanding, more intense. His finger begins to pry at your snug cunt, slipping inside with ease from all your wetness. You feel him begin to inch a second finger inside of you, stretching you further and filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, his fingers deeper than you were used to. He would only nag at your hole in the past. You whimper as he starts to move his fingers in and out—a slow and deliberate rhythm. Your hips instinctively press down on his hand, seeking more friction and more of his lengthy fingers. You can't help but squeal, the sound escaping your lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting a sweet spot that makes your whole body shiver. You try closing your legs, but he still holds one up. He feels your leg shift and hears your cute squeal. Elvis lets go, letting your leg rest down, with a snicker as he looks over at you with a mischievous grin. Soothing his palm up and down against your thigh, he leaned to kiss your upper arm. 

"Ya kay, 'ittle?" he whispered in his southern drawl. 

You nod, unable to form words, as the sensations overwhelm you. 

Slowly, he removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you aching for more. But before you have a chance to say anything, Elvis is already positioning himself between your legs from behind. He catches a glimpse of your sweet little gaping hole that was dripping with want. He begins rubbing the ridge of his cock along your pussy, you feel his chest vibrate behind you from a low groan. His tip begins to ease in as he coos in your ear slowly. Without delay, he plunges inside you halfway, his lip curling at your tightness. You wail as he bucks his hips further, and you try to get away due to the harsh feeling of the big stretch. He carefully moves the arm he was resting on to go under your waist to hold you from your firm stomach as he hitches up the rest of your babydoll. Pulling you towards him, his gut pressing into you more. 

Taking a glance at your clenched fists and shut eyes, he grumbles, "S'okay baby, breathe." 

You gulp down and gasp, "'S't-too much." 

"Needa bit more little 'un." He croons and brings his empty hand to swipe at your clit from the front in order to break you in with more ease. 

With a final buck of his hips, he fills your sweet cunt completely, taking him all in. You cry out at the forceful pinch, your hand gripping at his hand that held you from your tummy. Elvis grunts loudly when you clench at his cock. 

"M-Mah god, baby, let loose f'me. You'll break me off wit' all tha squeezin'." He blurts out, his voice strained with pleasure and urgency.

Your body trembles against his, and he continues to swipe at your tender nub, wanting to bring any type of pleasure to you right now. Elvis glanced up at your face, a tear dribbling down from the corner of yours. He leaned in, kissing it away. Gently opening your glossy eyes, you look up towards the mirror, taking in the way you were both at last bound. His robe was still hanging loosely on his body, and his hair was tousled as he pressed his face into your nape. As you gripped him with your hand, you felt him grab hold of it and start pulling it down to your heat. Placing it between your thighs, where you and him connected, you traced his weighty balls over with your small hand. Indicating he was practically balls deep inside your dear little hole. 

"Yuh feel him inside ya." He whispered airily into your nape, the bass of his voice rumbling against your back. 

You blushed at his words, feeling a mixture of shyness and alertness. You nodded, unable to find the words to respond, as you focused on the sensation of him filling you completely. His hand remained on yours, guiding your movements as you continued to explore the intimate connection between your bodies. Your digits now covered by both yours and his fluids. Elvis let his hand loose and moved it over to your waist, both of his arms now holding you in a spoon position. As the initial sting began to fade and pleasure took its place, you began moving, slowly your movements against him became more confident. Each motion became braver as desire continued to build between you both. Your whimpers got louder, and you felt the hairs on your nape stand as you heard a little huff come from Elvis behind you. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Pulling himself out slightly and then bucking into you again, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan as you experienced the overwhelming sensation for the first time. A dance of pain and pleasure intertwined within you. You were sure a trickle of blood had stained the satin sheets beneath you both as you felt the warm wetness building between you two. You were too busy taking in the feeling of his hardness inside you, he noticed as he peeked up at the mirror and saw you lying there with your small mouth gaping and your hand buried between your thighs where he had left it. 

"Touch yuh'self sweetheart." He grunted into your ear as he strained himself from moving his hips too harshly, his grip on your waist still firmly in his arms.

You complied, your fingers danced over your sensitive folds, slick with arousal, and maybe more, until they found your swollen clit. As you began to rub circles around it, your moans grew louder and more dire, echoing through the room. The mirror gave you a clear view of your own flushed face, your eyes filled with desire and vulnerability. The way he watched you, his dark eyes smoldering with lust, only fueled the fire burning within you. Every movement caused the robe to sway gently, revealing hints of his luscious curves beneath. As your fingers continued their rhythmic dance upon your clit, you couldn't help but imagine his hands—those strong and skilled hands—taking over. The thought of his touch, his fingers tracing the same patterns you were now creating, made your toes wriggle. Your breath hitched as you quivered as the warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen became more and more unbearable. His thrusts became more vigorous, matching the intensity building within you. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans mingling with his low grunts. As he maintained his relentless pace, you surrendered yourself completely to what your body was feeling. The tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter until, finally, with one strong thrust, you unraveled into a state of euphoria on his cock. Your body trembled with sheer bliss as he continued to move inside you, he watched as your pretty face contorted and your blush deepened. 

"O-Oh god." You whined loudly, tightening around him, and the throbbing of his girthy cock became even more pronounced. 

His grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, looking for his own release. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you moan prettily but uncontrollably. He glared over at you, bringing one hand up to grasp your jaw, his thumb once again finding its way into your mouth.

"N-Not so loud baby. Ain't want no 'un else hearin' ya gone like this, only me." He spoke between each heavy breath, sounding imposing. 

You nodded, unable to say any words. 

His thumb pressed against your tongue, silencing your moans as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. The room was filled with the sound of skin pushing against skin, blending with your muffled cries of pleasure. You felt your ears grow hotter as his grunts turned into gruff whines, it made you wonder how such a man could make such pretty sounds. He pressed into you harder, the suppleness of his hair-filled belly now squished into your lower back. Elvis' grip on you toughens under you, his fingers digging into the skin of your tummy as he pulls you closer, seeking an even deeper connection. His other hand now filled with your drool. Watching as his lip was now curled, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his beautiful expression slipping into that o-face of his through the mirror. With one final thrust, he let out a garish whine, emptying himself inside of your now-tamed pussy, filling you completely with his essence. You couldn't help but muffle a sob and bite down on his thumb as you felt his scorching seed paint your walls. 

He was still so far buried inside you as he let out heavy sighs. Elvis slowly began to withdraw his upper body from you, looking down at the slight space between his belly and your back, shifting his hips slowly to pull out, the base of his cock streaked with your pure blood. He paused as he felt your tongue pushing at his thumb and looked over, your eyes were watery. 

He withdrew his large hand, you turned your head over to him, the position putting a little discomfort on your neck as he was still spooning you. You were in awe of his blushed face and matted, lush hair sticking to his forehead from all his sweat. Bringing the hand you still held between your thighs over to hold the side of his face, your eyes widened as you focused on the redness of your blood on your digits, which had now smudged a bit on his cheek. Elvis took in your expression and glanced over at your small hand against his cheek, he snickered. Grabbing ahold of it, he brought it over to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss and even a subtle lick. Your purity now smudged along his soft lips. 

"A fine 'ittle flower 'as bloomed," he mumbled as he leaned his face into you. 

Your heart raced as his lips pushed against yours gently. The taste of his kiss, a mixture of your blood and his own essence, sent warmth down your spine. He steadily pulled away, enjoying the fact that your lips were stained right along with his. 

It left you brain-scattered and your hind eyes in a fuzzy state.

You were brought back when you felt him pulling his practically flaccid cock out of you. You winced as a dull ache shot through your body. Quickly sensing soreness, but a satisfied, weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing he'd finally gone completely with you. You stiffened as the warmth of his spew slowly oozed out of your snug, bruised hole. 

Elvis' view was a delight, he thought, watching as the scarlet milky mess glazed your puffed-up pussy lips, running down your inner thigh. Slumbering on your back now, your babydoll still pushed up but remained covering your small chest. 

But before you could turn to fully face him, you panicked as he stood up from the bed abruptly. 

"E-Elvis," you sputtered out, even reaching your hand out for him. 

He ignored your plea as he hurriedly walked towards the bathroom. His footsteps echoed in the silence, and you suddenly felt anxious. Moments later, he emerged with a damp towel in his hand. As he approached you, he saw the look on your face as you laid on your back. 

"Hey, what's wit' da worried eyes baby," he asked gently while gently leaning over at you. 

You still felt the pang of fret in your chest as Elvis leaned over you, his concern evident in his eyes. 

"I-I just got scared. Thought you w-were leaving," you admitted, your voice shaky. 

Elvis' expression softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair off your face. 

"Aww, don' worry, sweetheart. Am here now, ain't goin' anywhere," he reassured you, his voice smooth and reassuring in his drawl. 

His touch was comforting, and you felt yourself relax under his calm presence. 

As his hand lingered on your cheek, he spoke again. "Ah's needs ta clean my little girl now, kay." 

You nodded as Elvis stood in front of you while you lay splayed on the bed. He softly lifted your legs and began to gently wipe away the sticky residue, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His sunken eyes met yours briefly, a glimmer of tenderness, before he focused back on cleaning you up. You flinched as he swiped at your tender bud, and he couldn't help but grin. Finishing up, he tossed the used rag aside. Elvis had always been thorough in his caretaking when it came to you. As he gently began tugging your delicate top down to cover you, he paused and scrunched it up, revealing your small, supple chest and your soft pink meek nipples. 

Leaning down to give both of your petite mounds delicate kisses, "Almost forgot 'bout 'em sweet lil' things," he muffled as he kissed your warm skin. 

You found yourself giggling as you ran a hand through his tousled-up hair. One of the things he had made you become—a giggler. 

He stood back up and fixed your babydoll fully now as he smiled at you.

"All done, my little 'un," he whispered softly, his voice filled with pride and adoration. 

Collapsing beside you, his hand tenderly stroked your hair, whispering, "We'll get tha rest uh us cleaned up later." 

He then continued as you moved over to fully face him, his robe now imperfectly tied. "Needa hold ya darlin’, ah know how emotional you puny things can be after experiencin' this kinda thing." 

You snuggled closer to him with a giggle, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. The tubbiness of him being all the more cozy. As you both basked in each other, you felt the palm of his hand smooth down at your lower abdomen. 

"Yuh sore?" His voice held that babyish tone. 

"Bits," you mumbled as your cheek rested against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. 

His hand continued to caress your belly, his touch gentle. “Love her lots,” he suddenly blurted and leaned in to give your forehead a kiss. 

You gazed up at him, leaning in to kiss the fullness between his neck and chin. “Loves daddy lots too,” you whispered as you followed up with another kiss before you snuggled into him again. 

• Master List

₊ ⊹ Taglist: @fallinlovewithurlove @presleyenterprise @doll-elvis @j-v-9-2 @codalysssssworld @caitskywalker14 @claire-elvisgirl @jaqueline19997 @ash-omalley @spooky-hazex @presleysweetheart @littlehoneyposts @dkayfixates @that-hotdog

₊ ⊹ Get added to Taglist for future stories here.

[sweeterhoni]

i hate it when my brain functions differently when i'm in class, also, a snippet of a wip that's based on this brainrot

non-idol au . childhood friend!jake x afab!reader . R18 MINORS DNI!

a/n: this is suggestive. this isn't like me but this.. phew i need to breathe before writing more

before reading more, this fic is mixed with a religious theme and i'm so sorry bc this might just be straight blasphemy 🙇‍♀️ .

jake never knew what changed, you stayed nearly the same so there wasn’t much to highlight on you. jake never paid attention to you, he grew up with you and maybe that was enough to justify his distance. but was it? or maybe that became his favorite excuse to use when people keep asking why the two of you weren’t stuck together.

but what made him come up with excuses? what made him distant? what changed? – these were all the questions that pondered his mind. jake doesn’t have any answers despite this ‘operation: stay away from y/n’ has been going on for months. he just knew he had to have his distance when he felt himself getting hard around you.

it wasn’t hard. thanking your faith and focus in your religion to an extent where he started to attend church services again, but you were there. you were always there, and maybe his quick glances to your direction were enough to satisfy the torture he’s been putting himself through. but did he really have to go out of his way to attend your services when sunday was his only free day?

jake was a star in your university. people drool over him, they devour him and he indulges in it. you once joked he almost acted too similar to an incubus who feeds off the sexual energy from people, and he laughed and rebutted with “maybe that’s why you never felt anything sexual? is it? because i’m a, quote on quote, incubus?”

and ever since that day, jake could never put you out of his mind. you were devouring him unknowingly.

﹉﹉﹉

it was a sunday.

jake suited up, wearing his white long sleeve polo shirt that perfectly hugged his broad shoulders. he tucked it in his grey slacks, defining the inverted triangle shape he hides under sportswear and his uniform. it always felt like a sin to show up to the church subtly flexing every woman’s dream but does he still have any shame? when his mind defines lust when you show up in your dress that reminds a nun. you were always picked to pray for any services, requiring you to wear the white dress and veil the ‘baby nuns’ wear.

seeing you in it, jake always wanted to start a religion. a religion where you praise him, and devote to him the same way you devote to christianity. it wasn’t like him at all to have these sudden urges that just revolve around you, his life was soccer and academics– but you were becoming a part of it if you won’t stop whatever this is.

he was an hour earlier, just in time to watch you pray.

he wanted to defile you right then and there when you kneeled, your eyes closed, and your head perfectly angled as if you were doing this for the entirety of your life. he struggle to sit properly when you show no struggles in kneeling upright with your head bowed, and with the way the veil only shows a bit of your well-kept hair, jake knew he had to keep himself from acting out the events playing in his head.

he wasn’t even praying, all he did was fantasize about you.

a half of an hour passed, and he watched when you rose with ease. jake had his eyes fixated on you, it mesmerized him when you didn’t wince from kneeling that long and oh did he want you kneeling before him. he ached to see you be obedient when it wasn’t for him.

he wanted to shrug off these thoughts, maybe the praises were getting to him, but maybe it’s just you when these same thoughts never occur towards anyone else. he sinned again. you were his childhood friend, both of you grew up following the same religion, you were too religious and it would physically hurt him if he continue to think of you in that light but it just felt right.

“jake?” thank god then for your calming voice who snapped him out of the trance. “yes?” he replied, masking the lust he now clearly feels for you, “are you alright?” he was. he was alright before all these thoughts come to him, now he wasn’t. he watched how your lips rested in a pout, waiting for his answer with furrowed brows that show worry “of course, why wouldn’t i be?”

jake realised how he might have looked when fixating on you, not an ounce of guilt in his body as he chased a high.

“your brows were furrowed, it looked as if they’ll be sewn together.” you spoke with worry laced in your voice, you watched as he drew in a sharp breath. you figured he was just worried for the captain tryouts next week, so you nodded in understanding “ah! nevermind, you might be too worried for next week’s tryouts, but i’ll cheer you on jakey!”

and there it is.

even if you never tainted dirt, you were sultry. the way you said his childhood nickname felt as if it was the last straw, he had to get out of there. he had to get away from you. so he shamelessly used it as an excuse to leave, leaving you a pat on the head– “you’re right, you were always so bright my dove! i have to go, there’s an unscheduled practice today, be a good girl. for me, okay?“ and oblivious to the second meaning, you nodded your head.

“i’ve always been a good girl, for you and for the church.”

that left him hanging. it was true that you were always good, you were the epitome of an angel. some even call you that when you turn your back, you were always good. you were too innocent.

and it drives him insane how you agree to everything he says. it drives him insane how easy you comply to him. jake just wanted you, and if he wanted– you would already be in his bed but it all felt wrong when he caught sight of the pastor the two of you grew up with.

“i’ll go then. i’ll see you on wednesday, and wear the jersey i gave you, alright? that can be your way of cheering me on.” of course it was just another excuse to drive people away from you. he wanted you to wear it as it acted like a silent agreement, albeit one-sided, that you were only his to devour.

[oh-no-its-bird]

I'm having. So many Uchiha Houhua thoughts. Like I know so much of his existence is geared towards survival but. The hc of Uchiha's use of war fans,I have to wonder if he ever finds him half heartedly fiddling with a delicate seeming Tessen, remebering an old friend now far gone, just as razor edged and yet still missed.

And it may be my own fondness for the concept of a spider summons but so much of spider behavior is "Please Leave Me Alone" which is very on brand for Houhua. Camouflage and careful, delicate and yet still so dangerous, setting invisible webs between leaves and waiting for the worse predators to pass. (Also using spider venom to fuck with his heartrate for the possum jutsu maybe?)

The entire concept is so delightful and I'm very thankful to have seen all your little tidbits on it

YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU SENT ME A STRAWPAGE I JUST SAW IT LAST NIGHT BUT FELL ASLEEP BEFORE I COULD COPY PASTE IT TO REPLY TO HERE!!!!!!!!!!!

Omg hi funny seeing you here (<- batting my eyelashes, twirling my hair)

Anyways I love this, actually. Like, a lot.

Ough,, Houhua unable to look at war fans without thinking about both SY and SQQ,,,

I think it's actually especially fun to think ab like. The difference in fighting style between (Japanese) Uchiha styled war fan techniques and (Chinese) Cang Qiong Sect war fan techniques. Not even counting the much more specific Qing Jing Peak style of fan techniques.

That also goes double for sword techniques, especially considering the plans for Houhua to go into sword smithing.

Houhua has literal decades of the Cang Qiong sect sword style engraved into his fucking bones. Into his soul, even, if you consider the whole 'cultivators swords are usually tied to their spirits in some way' thing.

He's going to have the worst time trying to switch to Uchiha sword styles-- though I think the sharingan + the unfamiliar, tiny body without all the muscle memory of his past life will help him at least get his footing

,, Hey, is muscle memory held in the actual muscle or is it held in the brain? That's a thought.

ALSO. THE SPIDERS.

I. I cant lie to u, you are making an amazing argument rn for him having a spider summons. I love the idea sm, I am now faced w the ultimate dilemma of choosing between a spider contract or a rat contract.

On one hand, they both carry undertones of like 'there might be a bit more to see here than just a coward' bc of the associated (mostly negative) connotations of rats and spiders both being like, underhanded, sneaky, that sort of thing. But the spider tho,,, ough,, it also shows a side of implied manipulation that might be fun just from the angle of like.

Yeah you'd expect him to have some sort of rodent contract but hes actually been designated spider coded by the universe, actually.

I forget if I posted this snippet yet or if I only posted it on the discord but take this really quick:

So like. This moment, where Kabuto bets Houhua will get some form of rodent contract (for obvious reasons) while Hana bets he gets a fucking worm. But now make it even funnier bc they're both wrong and he got a spider contract.

This could also maybe play interesting into Houhua and Kabuto's sort of ongoing quiet squinting in eachothers direction as they both go 'this guy isnt as simple as he seems...' as Kabuto mentally recalculates some of Houhua's behavior

This also can just bring out a pretty fun "hey so lets talk about in universe stereotypes and associations when it comes to summoning animals" which I just think is fun. Like, culturally, what does it mean to have a contracted animal? Do some people treat it like they might astrology personality tests? Do some people think its just nonsense and pure luck or not that deep?

For some people it probably isn't that deep, while for others (specifically those who might come from families who always have the same contract, or others who sign blank contracts where they really are sent to an animal that matches them best) it really is a good way to try and analyze them

And like. Where does that leave Houhua?

This could also just be fun for when he interacts w Orochimaru, who fucking hates bugs (insert my own personal favorite hc here that he hates them largely in part due to the many times he was stuck inside his own rotting body, infested with bugs)

And like, Houhua and Orochimaru will inevitably interact, though I'm not 100% sure on how it goes just yet. But like. Houhua having a spider contract and Orochimaru coincidentally hating spiders. Could be funny.

PLUS YOU'RE SO RIGHT FOR LIKE. SPIDER VENOM POSSIBLY PLAYING INTO HIS PLAYING DEAD ACT. UR SO SMART FOR THAT.

Anyways. Yeah ok I think spider contract Houhua would go pretty hard for multiple reasons. Give him a big fluffy spider with big ol eyes.

Houhua can maybe get another contract further down the line and then get the rodents he deserves.

Im so glad that you've been enjoying the SQH in naruto au nonsense I've been pumping out!! I'm like. Halfwayish done with chapter one but it keeps getting longer. I'll get there eventually.

I really need to update my tumblr vault with all the recent additions to the au but want to update it when I post the actual fic so I can link the fic to the chapter, so I'm holding off on that

Anyways, thank you for your ask!!

[hitlikehammers]

wouldn’t it be WILD if steddie were heartbroken 💔 without each other (steve thinking eddie’s dead 💀 post s4/eddie in super intense secret WITSEC and couldn’t find steve if he tried 🫥) but they’re both actually secretly making 🎶music🎶 ABOUT EACH OTHER & THEIR BROKEN HEARTS?!?!?!????

…and both of them are hearing it?

Today for @steddielovemonth y’all are going to be subjected to a very indulgent snippet for a fic I have about a million words of headcanon and backstory for, but can never be allowed to write.  EVER.  Quick summary for the context: post S4, Eddie’s whisked away for treatment and healing and then given a new identity so everyone who ever knew him thinks he’s dead. This is not appreciated by Eddie at all bc he thought he and Steve were…that they had a ✨SPARK✨ He eventually settles; finds musical success in paving the way in some metal-adjacent genre fusion (can’t outright be as he was, ofc, he is IN WITSEC) Weird, then, when a masked, intentionally anonymous and deeply private metal-fusion-y group (think 🎵🎸Ghost meets Sleep Token🎵🎹) start climbing the charts to encroach on join his territory. Extra weird that their lyrics are all about either metaphors that only barely hide viscerally-disturbing violence that sometimes ping Eddie’s nightmares a little close to home, or even more often: love. Lost love. Lovesickness because of the lost love.  So much love. Again: weird.  The fact that the lead singer reminds Eddie of Steve from the first roll of his hips onstage means nothing; to this day, everything reminds Eddie of Steve.

rating: t ♥️ my only remaining note is to encourage that you listen to the link in the prompt 🎶

for @steddielovemonth day eighteen: 🎵 I wanna dance with somebody - Sleep Token

Eddie had done the calculus in this head. No one had seen him in public for years, now. He’s far from Hawkins, and the government locked the truth down hard: there hadn’t been coverage that went widespread. He’d fought them on the whole fucking thing as soon as he was conscious and understood they’d taken him to treat him, but had no intentions of letting him go back.

Disappearing under interdimensional-WITSEC was one thing. One already unacceptable thing he never agreed to. But…when he found out everyone thought he was dead?

That…that—

Even take out the way things had, like, Eddie could have sworn there was something real sparking between him and Steve—not just because the way he held himself back from kissing him goodbye luck, good luck when they split up in that last stand would not have been their first, Eddie’d gotten actual proof that all the taffy-thick tension and the fucking looks weren’t just things he was weighing up with his own want in the shape of Steve’s lips on his own. In the knowledge of what Steve Harrington fucking tastes like.

It was an all around dick move, is the point.

And he misses his people. His friends.

For the way he’s yet to pass a day without thinking of Steve: he misses the man he was already most of the way in love with.

But that’s how it ends up even being a question: can he risk leaving the house and entering a place so crowded and contextually ‘risky’ as a fucking concert.

He sells it mostly as market research, rather than him just trying to the fuck out of the house. It can be both, really, but in reality? It’s not a threat to him directly—sure as shit couldn’t convince his G-man handler out the gate to try and be a metal musician the way he’d always wanted to, but he’s found (not easily, <i>not</i> easily) a way to weave genres so he’s as unrecognizable now in his discography as he’s been forced to be physically: scruff on his cheeks, head always covered in some absurd new hat, part of the bit, part of how he gets away with being too lazy, still to maudlin to keep his hair shorn tight—he needs something to tear at on the worst nights or he will fucking lose what laughable grasp on sanity he has left, so.

But the whole multi-genre thing’s kinda his corner. So he tells himself that’s the real reason he’s here. At this show, in public. For a metal-adjacent fusion act that’s rocketing up the charts for their cross-genre innovations, not to mention their rip-your-heart-out approach to lyrics.

So maybe part of Eddie’d come to size up the competition in person, seeing as these motherfuckers are the gods of anonymity—paint and masks like KISS on steroids, but a little flair of mystique, like robes and veils and just…drama that walks the tightrope of being too much in a way that’d ruin it, that’d take them down hard just as they’re still on the rise but they…they manage it.

Fuck if Eddie knows how, walking in to the venue that night.

By the encore, though, now?

Well, shit.

They don’t talk on stage—Eddie’s heard they don’t talk at all, the bare number of interviews they give all being written exchanges, save for who he thinks is one of the two fucking drummers, but they use some kind of voice alternation like they’re the motherfucking FBI and this is Deep Throat calling. Eddie gets that it adds to the drama, but also their claim to not want the attention on themselves, only their music: good or bad. And if that’s honest, Eddie can respect it.

And in person, after this: he can certainly respect the effect that it has on the music itself in how it’s received on the ground, Jesus.

The whole thing is a well oiled machine made of human fucking emotion, which is kind of goddamn absurd. But the impact, the fact that it works, feels like it’s mainly credit to the lead singer—he’s got a code name thingy but fuck if Eddie remembers it; fuck if Eddie remembers anything with that figure, not even a face, but that body mostly hidden by paint and a robe he could swear had a twin he used for Hellfire in the old theatre room—but the lead singer. He’s conducted the stage for the whole fucking show less like a director with their annoying pointy stick and more…more half like a king, but higher, a nameless deity, and god-emperor with no face but then at the very same time, leaping in like a battle master, a general rallying troops he will die for before he loses, and so will push them past the brink to keep them safe, no matter the costs. He seems to push himself the hardest, by far.

Maybe too far.

There’s a danger in the whole display, that way—something spellbinding; riveting. It grasps Eddie from the inside, those big hands on the microphone reaching to squeeze his heart and stroke his lungs as much as to stroke something lower, lower, harder—

Fuck. Well.

Here he is. And if the lights weren’t still down, he’d think the set was over.

But then Mr. Lead(-me-down-a-dark-alleyway-and-have-your-way-with-me) swaggers back on from the wings, to the kind of insanity, the pitch of screaming and applause that Eddie thinks requires ear protection all on its own. And the Lead has been keeping the crowd in order as much as his band, the mastermind behind the offensive, with the protective drive he exudes, this weird feeling like he’s…proud when the fans move and sway and push and break and sing and sob—like they matter. Like he cares, without saying a goddamn word.

Now he hold his hands up: peace, still, quiet, and they obey. Everyone. It’s…uncanny.

A piano appears behind him, and anarchy unfolds again in an instant.

Eddie noticed a lot of piano, especially from the Lead-man, and how it’s been used in unexpected ways, especially with the doubled-up drums, hell, the multiple players on various instruments, the way they’ve put together an orchestra without it sounding forced or overcrowded, pretentious or unnecessary.

The lone figure walks toward the edge of the stage, away from the baby grand, and tilts his head, extends a hand again but only one this time—it quiets but doesn’t wholly quell the noise and then he shifts his body weight, a hand settling on his hip; his judgement playful but powerful.

Everyone is silent again. Eddie is…fucking floored.

The Lead waits, surveys every inch of the crowd in a way that feels like he actually sees everyone from behind his mask, Eddie included, and isn’t that a thought for lonely night in the near future, goddamn.

Eventually, though, he nods, satisfied with..something, and struts to his piano.

Eddie is left in those moments being too fixated on how unsatisfied he is by comparison, in very specific ways, until the keys ring out.

Like starlight. Like drops made of angel tears or some shit.

And then Eddie recognizes the song.

It’s all over the fucking radio—the original—so much even he can’t avoid it, but in truth he doesn’t really want to. Whitney is a massive fucking talent and the song’s catchy as hell.

But this man. This man.

He’s reshaping it into something deeply other.

And maybe later Eddie will marvel at how the song’s being reimagined, at the technical level. Will pick apart the genius, wonder at the inspiration of transforming what’s on the charts into this.

But for now he can only watch. Jaw dropped. People around him are actually crying for the feeling in this man’s voice, spare and personal and otherworldly—and Jesus H., Eddie feels fucking close to tears himself, what the actual fuck.

He doesn’t play the whole thing—ends. Stands. Bows. The crowd erupts on a delay as the Lead’s mostly out of sight. Eddie…

Eddie is still stuck on what he just witnessed.

Mainly—unexpectedly—the words.

He says man, like the radio version: need a man who’ll take a chance—

Which could mean nothing. Could just be respecting the masterpiece as written.

But then Eddie, replaying it all in his head, doesn’t think he’s making up that the Lead on stage just now failed to change up the lyrics, as the original did intend in one specific place.

He’s clear about the call of his loneliness. Fuck, half their songs make that real clear. But.

He never once sang this song—picked deliberately, crafted so elegant and raw—but never once did follow the original and sing about his lonely heart.

But again.

Could just mean nothing.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @disrespectedgoatman @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here and here and here

[anukkuna]

Day 12: Snacking on the job

Just real quick bcs I had little time today - have a snippet from my Crack Video #4 folder!

[quietlyblooms]

ummmm the one liners are all queued but what do you mean it's almost 7:30

[causenessus]

YAY CONGRATS ON 1k!! you totally deserve it and your work is phenomenal and i can’t wait to see what else you make <3

for the event.. could i get a fluff 📚 fic w/ kuroo where the reader helps him find a book as a library aid??

see you again. | kuroo t.

kuroo x f!reader

written in 3rd pov

one word prompt from 1k followers event: 📚 -> library

"my heart's on mars, kinda hard to see, but you know i'll see you again <3" from when will i see you again by shakka (DOES NOT fit the vibes at all i mean kind of in my delusional brain but i just like the song and it fits the title <3)

word count: 1.9k words

notes: lots of fluff!! kuroo being down bad for the reader upon first meeting her, reader also being down bad. kuroo being a nerd bc man could be sexy or flirt to save his life <3 bokuto being the real star of this entire follower event apparently who knows how many more fics he's gonna make it into. also this was really fun to write bc little lore drop but one year in high school i once got kicked out of a class (very convoluted thing, they thought the class was triggering me which was lowkey a fair statement) so i got to be a library aide instead <333 i'm going to say this is not edited bc i don't want to deal with my mistakes or take responsibility for them. THANK U FOR THIS REQUEST WYR!! I LOVE YOU SM <3 I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FIC

although she enjoyed the solace of re-shelving books on her own, she enjoyed helping others just as much. it was like getting snippets of people’s lives through the books they were in search of. sometimes students came in looking for books for classes, which allowed her to meddle a little into just how many majors her school really offered, and how niche they could be. others came in looking for books to pass the time and she was always happy to recommend one of her favorites if they were open to suggestions.

while some of the other aides were there because they saw the job as an easy, quick way to make some extra money, she took pleasure in her job. when lost students came up to the counter asking for help locating a book, most of the aides felt that they had done their job well when they gave the student some kind of cryptic number and last name to scour the shelves for in return. however, numbers revealed nothing of where a single book could be in a large room piled with books that lined and stuffed every shelf and corner they could fit into.

she often took it upon herself to go on a search with the students who came to her for help. she’d consult the system for where a book was located and then lead the student to where the book was located rather than just sending them on their way. sometimes it took a few minutes to find what they were looking for, but they always found it in the end.

asking someone to wander around a university’s library and expecting them to know where a book labeled “796.31 dearing” was located was the equivalent to asking them to find a needle in a haystack. she didn’t expect anyone to know where a book was right off the bat; that was her job, and she was happy to help.

kuroo always dreaded going to the library. he dreaded everything about it. he loathed having to be quiet, aware of every noise he made, every rustle of his pant legs brushing against each other, and he hated trying to find the single book he was looking for amongst thousands of others. sometimes he felt like he'd be better off pirating a pdf version of a book off the internet, but it never appealed to him as much as a physical book.

over lunch with bokuto one day, he had rubbed a hand down his face and groaned at the thought of even stepping foot into the library, “i have to get a book for one of my social science classes, but do you know how hard they make it to find any kind of science book?”

“you should ask for y/n!” bokuto responded with a mouth full of food, “she’s really nice, she actually walked with me to help find the book i was looking for.”

“you went to the library to get a book? i would’ve expected you to just sparknote it,” kuroo teased with a sleazy grin.

his friend huffed, crossing his arms, “you should have more faith in me! i did read the book, but... it was because my professor had already caught me using sparknotes and said she’d fail me if she caught me using it again...” he trailed off and kuroo laughed.

“i think you just proved your own point wrong, buddy,” he rested his hand in his palm, looking down at the table they were sitting at. “you said her name’s y/n? what’s she look like?”

“mm, i don’t remember,” bokuto said, after a thoughtful pause, “she’s probably wearing a nametag, though. or just ask for y/n! someone will direct you to her.”

“that’s weird, man. what am i supposed to tell her when she questions why i specifically asked for her?” he responded with a sigh.

“just tell her i sent you! she knows me pretty well now, she won’t mind,” the dual hair colored boy shrugged before shoving more food into his mouth, “it’s that or search on your own for your book, but i’d say just find y/n, she can help.”

bokuto had a way of making everything seem like it would turn out fine, but all that confidence left him the moment he walked through the library doors. all he knew was he was on the lookout for a girl; nothing about what she looked like, just her name.

he could pretend to be cool and suave from afar, but when it came to actual interactions, he was never the best at maintaining his composure. he always talked too fast, or would regrettably talk more than was acceptable by his standards.

he settled for trying to find the book himself first. it was some kind of book about behavior, by a last name he thought sounded slightly like a serial killer. if he couldn’t even remember the author’s name, he was helpless. was it even worth trying to find someone to help him? or would he just make a fool of himself trying to describe the book he was looking for?

but he needed to find this book tonight, he knew that. he’d already put off reading it for long enough, and his deadline was coming up. knowing his grade was at risk, he defeatedly dragged his feet to the foot counter. it was impossible for him to casually stand there, looking at people’s name tags, and a girl at a computer was already looking at him, waiting patiently for him to tell her what he needed.

“uh–” he started off, trying to keep his voice low, “is y/n working tonight?”

the girl’s eyebrows knitted together, and he was distracted by the way her lips pursed before he tried to focus on her eyes instead, “that’s me. did you need something?”

perhaps it was luckier that he had found her on his first try rather than walking around like an idiot looking for a mysterious girl, but he couldn’t help worrying about how this interaction was already off to a bad start. he couldn’t believe bokuto could ever forget a face like hers when he was sure it’d be stuck in his head for weeks. “yeah, i’m looking for a book…?” he cringed at his own words. what else would he be here for? she only raised her brows, waiting for him to continue. “it’s um, a book on behaviorism i think. i’m majoring in sports management and i need this book for a social sciences class but i don’t remember what it’s called.”

his honesty made the corner of her lips lift, and he found himself staring again. she had to be wearing lipstick; there was no way her lips could be that red. “behaviorism? and you don’t remember what the book is called? what about the author?”

he shook his head. did he tell her his analogy? he’d already made a stupid first impression, “i don’t remember what his name was, but it sort of sounded like…”

“like a serial killer?” she finished, eyes flicking up to his own.

his own brows raised in surprise, “yeah, how did you know?”

she laughed softly at his remark, “i took a psychology class. it’s how i remembered his name too. i called him beef skinner, but his name’s b.f. skinner.” he found his own lips turning up, and they shared a smile before she cleared her throat, turning back to her screen. he watched her fingers fly across the keyboard under her hands before she turned her monitor screen around so he could see it. “does this cover look familiar? maybe by the title?”

it was a simple cover, dark blue with a tri-colored atom at the bottom. the title was written in bold capital letters: Science and Human Behavior. it clicked with him as he read the title and he could only nod, dumbfounded as she returned the screen back to its normal position.

“that’s exactly it. you’re like a genius, i can’t believe you found it based on three basic words,” he complimented, watching as she stood up, dusting off her pencil skirt. 

he felt a puff of pride in his chest, seeing the way she smiled at his words. “it’s my job,” she laughed again, “i think i had someone else come in looking for it a few days ago. too. call it good timing. your book should be somewhere in the 300s, i’ll lead you there.”

she waved a hand, motioning for him to follow as she came around the side of the counter and he was quick to follow. they walked along the aisles, her head tilting up ever so often to look up at the number plates adorning each shelf. “if you don’t mind me asking, how did you know my name?” she asked, turning back to him.

he fell into step walking alongside her as he hummed in thought, “i had a friend that mentioned you. i always get lost coming here and i was telling him about it and he said i should try to find you because you’re really nice.”

“aw,” she commented with a small smile as they turned down an aisle, “that was sweet of him to say. i’m glad i could help.”

their conversation went silent as they continued walking, and he found himself tugging at the collar of his sweater nervously. “he was right,” he mumbled.

“what was that?” she looked at him again, and he inhaled sharply again, looking into her eyes.

“nothing. i mean—i was just saying my friend was right. you’re very nice,” he spoke quickly, averting his eyes towards the floor. this was what he’d meant when he said he always talked too much; he really needed to learn to keep his thoughts in.

but when she laughed at his compliment, he thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to make a fool of himself if he could hear her voice again. “thank you, i’m glad to hear that. what was your name, again?” she asked, a blush dusting her cheeks. she couldn’t believe she was letting a boy’s words affect her in such a way when she didn’t even know his name.

he was thinking the same thing; how had telling her his name completely slipped his mind? “kuroo,” he said, stopping when she stopped, crouching to run her fingers along the spines of a row of books close to the ground. “my name’s kuroo tetsuro.”

“well, kuroo,” she said, standing back up and looking at him with that smile of hers. paired with the sound of his name on her tongue, he felt like he was going to pass out. “it was nice to meet you. and here’s your book. maybe i’ll see you again?”

“definitely,” he said too quickly, but it was worth it to watch her nose scrunch as she laughed, “i’ll definitely come back, it what meant. um, not just to see you. well— actually— it’d be kind of nice if maybe we saw each other again. maybe over dinner? could i get your number?”

“yes,” she answered, and when she bit her lip, trying to stop the way her smile had grew, he felt like he was standing in front of angel, “to all of that. meet me back at the counter?”

"okay," he breathed, watching her walk off, her hands grabbing fists full of her skirt. maybe the library wasn't as bad as he thought, after all.

[its-all-papaya]

trick or treat🎃🎃

come trick or treating!!

I've been trying to change these up in terms of content type, so I was considering on the walk home what ideas I could throw at a wall that aren't just dad lando or other wip snippets, and i think... ballet dancer lando au??

This started as an anybody, nowhere AU dupe and became a hallmark christmas movie in my head REAL QUICK but hear me out:

lando as the principal at a ballet company. he is the best. he has achieved The Goal he's had since childhood. he is being paid to dance. ballet is crazy bc it's so comforting in its familiarity, the lines are all so cleanly drawn, there are rules and correct ways to do things, but it is also soooooooo mean to ur brain (ask me how i know). lando's self-critical ass would suffer similarly to how he has suffered in F1. it's such a balance between repetition and perfection... i could make something of that. i could crawl inside his brain i think. anyway, point is he's kind of burned out and questioning his life's direction and just going through the motions of his job.

oscar's sisters younger than they are irl (like 6, 8, and 14) and in the training school at lando's company. they are mice and/or cookies and/or party children and/or snowflakes in THE NUTCRACKER (hallmark movie, see?)

lando is the nutcracker prince, obviously. and all of the kids worship him when he starts coming to rehearsals with them in december, even when he's just kind of stretching existing blocking. like... he's so good and graceful and they all have crushes on him.

i think landoscar would meet OUTSIDE of ballet context (bar, coffee shop, whatever i invent as oscar's job) and start out flirty cute landoscar-y. lando finding joy in the novelty of him and the dry way he approaches things and tells things how they are, but not in the mean way his choreographers do. it's actually kind of funny. lando is charmed.

meanwhile, oscar's kid sisters chatting at oscar nONSTOP about how beautiful and perfect the nutcracker prince in their production is. he's so kind and SUCH a good dancer and they're absolutely in love with him.

but somehow on one side or the other, someone doesn't know lando's name. so oscar never makes the connection. until CHANCE ENCOUNTER where they put the pieces together. oscar picking up his sisters late bc his mum couldn't and finding lando waiting for them in the lobby, perhaps. giving cute little corrections the youngest one or feeding them extra snacks out of his bag bc it's past dinner. and oscar is like.... OH!!??

i think subplot where oscar's oldest sister is Going Through It as a snowflake and is like "i'm not good enough, i should quit" and lando helping her emotionally or through private lessons or both idk, i've only been thinking about this for like 25 minutes ever.

miracle of christmas ending where through oscar's younger sisters, lando rediscovers the beauty and fun and magic of dancing. and obviously landoscar kissing under some mistletoe or backstage or both or everywhere.

is this anything?? i might be able to bang it out by christmas if i go nose to grindstone and keep myself strictly under like 20k with it.

[diazsdimples]

Fuck It Saturday

I'm not sure if it's friday anywhere anymore so we're fucking it on a Saturday!! I've been super lax on writing this week because I've got a beefy 3k word report on care for transgender/gender diverse parents during pregnancy due on Monday and I am not even halfway done dfkjds. BUT I did get a small trickle of Frostpunk AU beans so I thought I'd share! Snippet below the line bc it's kinda long

Tagged for Friday & Saturday by @smilingbuckley @thekristen999 @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @bidisasterevankinard

@cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley and @kitteneddiediaz, I will be getting to your snippets tonight!!

Buck’s reading to Christopher when it happens.

Ever since Christopher woke up, Buck has been keeping a near-constant vigil at his bedside, keeping the boy entertained and comfortable where he can. He’d even snuck into the Children’s Shelter to borrow some toys for Christopher - a set of cards, a rainbow puzzle, a small, plastic dinosaur toy, and a fluffy rabbit that Christopher had kept tucked under his arm ever since.

So, it’s not entirely surprising that Buck is there when Edmundo wakes up.

The first indication is the bleeping on Edmundo’s heart monitor begins to increase in speed. Buck stops midsentence and turns in his chair. The first thing he notices is that Edmundo’s eyes are open, wide and fearful as he looks around the room.

In a flash, Buck is on his feet, book clattering to the floor, and he rushes over to Edmundo’s bedside.

“Hen!” he yells, praying his friend is close enough to hear. “Chimney! Someone, come quick!!”

Edmundo’s chest begins to heave as a heavy panic sets in and he raises his arms to claw at the breathing tube down his throat. Buck grabs his wrists and pins them to his size, and is surprised at the strength of the man. It takes no small amount of effort to keep him from ripping the tube out, or scrabbing at the IV lines in his arms.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, Hen and Chimney are coming, just breathe for me,” Buck says hurriedly as he watches Edmundo gag around the tube. He knows the man will be getting oxygen, but that won’t be stopping the feeling of suffocation, the feeling of obstruction in his throat.

Edmundo’s eyes bug out as he looks at Buck, gaze boring into him in a silent plea. Help me. Make it stop.

There’s a clattering of feet on linoleum as Hen, Chimney, and another medic Buck doesn’t know the name of all sprint into the cramped med bay.

“What’s going on, what happened?” Hen asks as she comes screeching to a halt, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on. Before Buck can even open his mouth, Chimney is grabbing the extubation equipment and barking orders at Hen and the medic, all three swarming Edmundo’s bedside.

Buck’s in the way, he knows it but he cannot make himself move. Instead, he takes both of Edmundo’s hands and laces their fingers together, squeezing lightly to give Edmundo something to focus on.

“Look at me, Edmundo,” he says as Hen peels off the tape keeping the tube in place. Edmundo’s eyes flick back towards Buck, his eyebrows scrunched together, and Buck’s stomach twists uncomfortably as he sees a tear slide down Edmundo’s cheek.

“That’s it, just keep your eyes on me.”

“Okay, extubating patient now. Hen, have suction at the ready. Jess, get the O2 mask,” Chimney orders, and there’s a fluffy of movement as everyone gets in position.

Buck looks away. He doesn’t want to watch the tube come out. He’s never been the best with medical things at the best of times and this.. well he’s not exactly sure why the thought of Edmundo in particular being in pain makes him so unhappy but it does. So he doesn’t watch, instead keeping his eyes trained firmly on his and Edmundo’s hands. It doesn’t escape his notice the way Edmundo’s knuckles go white as he clings to Buck for dear life.

There’s horrible wet noise followed by the sound of suction and a volley of wet coughs, before Buck hears a deep breath in. He chances a glance upwards and sees Edmundo, eyes open and sans tube for the first time he got to Sector 118. There’s an oxygen mask fitted over his face, fogging up with every breath Edmundo takes.

Instantly, relief flows through Buck like warm honey, filtering through his veins until he’s lighter and warmer than he’s been in days. Edmundo’s awake. Edmundo is breathing on his own. Edmundo’s alive.

Buck grins, unable to contain his joy. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Edmundo.”

“Eddie,” the guy croaks, and Buck blinks.

“Huh?”

“Name’s E-Eddie. Not Edmundo,” he rasps, before breaking out into a coughing fit. Buck rushes to help him upright, takes off the oxygen mask, and holds out a container as Edmundo – Eddie spits into it, his chest heaving from the force of his coughs. Buck rubs his back, murmuring reassuring words until Eddie takes a shaky breath and allows himself to rest back against his pillows.

No pressure tagging (for Friday or Saturday) @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @neverevan @babybibuck @aroeddiediaz

@bibuckbuckgoose @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @wikiangela

@loveyouanyway @exhuastedpigeon @epicbuddieficrecs @hermscat @worriedbisexual

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @actuallyitsellie @idealuk @dangerpronebuddie @simpingforhotfictionalcharacters

@houseofevanbuckley @loserdiaz @elvensorceress @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss

@steadfastsaturnsrings @thewolvesof1998 @jehdogg @ohlookitsthearkhamknight @revenge-of-the-assbutt (lmk if you want to be added/removed)