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#theme: insecurities

willowser · 6 months

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i keep getting this thought in my head of bakugou, for the majority of his life, just having this view and understanding of like. my body gets the job done. i take care of it so i can do what i need to do. scars, wounds, imperfections don't matter, as long as i can keep going.

like almost no fucks for what it looks like in an aesthetic sense. he works out, he eats right because then he can do his job right. it's got nothing to do with trying to appeal to anyone.

and then you come along. and for the very first time—he's leaning a little closer to the mirror in the morning, brushing a finger over the scar on his face. when he gets dressed for the day, his eyes can't seem to rip away from the marred skin of his torso: at his hip, at his shoulder, right in the middle of his chest.

is that...something that would scare you? that you'd find....ugly? would you prefer him without them?

i wouldn't say it makes him terribly physically insecure, but. he is hesitating for just a second the first time he takes his shirt off around you. if you look at him head-on for too long, he's ducking his head and turning it, so that way only the pretty side is visible.

#i have a hard time imagining him insecure about his body #bc i really think he thinks of it as a weapon/tool in a way #and as long as it works then that's all he cares about #what the fuck does it matter if it's not smooth and perfect and clean cut like. go to hell.#LMAOOOO #but then he gets oh-so interested in you and he's like. well. hang on.#maybe you'd like it better if it was less. fucked up. LOL #waahh. sad.#✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: pre relationship bakugou

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gaminegay · 4 months

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Another straight/monogamous/general Relationship Thing I don't get is "when they're still friends with their ex 🚩🚩🚩🚩" like. Oh so it's better if the breakup sucked or they childishly refuse to talk or they grew apart? Why.

#alda rambling #Maybe it's because dating culture here is so weird idk #I was listening to some video in theme of Are The Straights Okay trends and the commentator agreed w this one #Which surprised me BC I think it's silly. Like you can be insecure about it of course but it's not a RED FLAG nevermind '''micro cheating '#Sometimes hearing about this stuff makes me feel more sane lol.

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the-obnoxious-sibling · 6 months

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you got me curious about the original japanese dialogue for 1082 so naturally i had to look up the raw and buggy does say something to the effect of "like hell i'll ever be one of your subordinates, you idiot!!" so there u go 😔

oh wow, thank you!! (i mentioned wanting to see the raws in the tags of this post)

yeah, it looks like the translation i read was very much in line with the original—shanks saying ore-to issho-ni koi-yo is very straightforwardly "come with me," and buggy's the one who takes that to mean omee-no buka nanza (mappira da), "(i refuse to) be your subordinate"

so while idk if i buy co-captains as what shanks was aiming for canonically, as things stand it's a valid interpretation.

but oh man, shanks! you gotta choose your words more carefully with this guy! he mishears random shit as commentary on his nose all the time, of course he takes this request in the most insulting way possible ;~;

#i know buggy's inferiority complex causing problems for him is like... a major theme for the character #but WOW the self-sabotage truly started so young #anyway no insult meant to translators but... i been in manga fandoms too long to trust like that lmao #i always gotta check the original text when an interpretation relies on a specific turn of phrase #libertatias #asked and answered #one piece #shuggy #translation nitty gritty #shanks #buggy #.1082 (roguetown flashback)#*buggy’s insecurities #*shuggy miscommunication #*the shuggy roguetown breakup

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hajihiko · 1 year

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I interpret Kaz's relationship with his dad a little differently from that one convo. He says something like 'he knew better than anyone that we didn't have the money' and I took that as his dad wanted him to go and have fun like a normal kid and not worry about the money. Of course, I don't justify physical discipline and it is abuse, even if the parent is well intentioned. I think that Kaz does love his dad and they're relationship might be more complicated. But you know that's just one of the many things he needs to work out in therapy.

(Again this is just my interpretation and I'm not saying yours is wrong. I do love the art.)

Just gonna use this as a little jumping point to talk about this bc why not, warnings for obviously sensitive topics

I dont think you're wrong, I actually probably agree, but one thing;

It's not uncommon for public perception to weigh more than actual actions or intent. In the example given, I see it like so; yeah, Souda sr. wanted his son to go on a field trip that they couldn't really afford. Yeah, Kaz wanted to help the household by not going on the trip and saving the money. Both have good intent here. It's not about that, though, because in Souda sr.'s eyes, refusing to go on the trip is like admitting that they're poor, which is like saying the father can't provide for his family, which is like public humiliation- in his eyes. In a fit of rage (and insecurity, if it's something that's already weighing on his mind, as these things often go) the assumption isnt that his son was trying to help, just that he did something that makes the father look bad. Which is a bigger trigger than most things, often, for patriarchal authority figures.

And it not an excuse for physical harm, no, nothing is. Probably, Souda sr. knows that, and didn't mean to snap- doesnt think he committed an act of child abuse- but he's been under a lot of stress, and his son was talking back, and, well.

I think they do usually get along alright, and Souda sr. does his best to provide for himself and his son and keep their relationship good, and Kazuichi is genuinely grateful for everything his dad's done for him? But in the end, it's another person Kazuichi trusted teaching him the lesson that people will let him down and hurt him, in some way at some point. If your parent whom you trust has made you genuinely afraid of them, it's hard to come back from it, and someone as anxious and emotionally sensitive as Kazuichi will hold onto that forever, probably, even as he might internalized some of it as his own fault.

It's a lot more complicated than just "bad father, sad son" (but again, not excusable, you don't hit your kids period). It's father and son who love each other and might be the only family they both have, but they clash horribly on occasion, make up (or don't talk about it at all), things die down, stay good for a while, then there's another clash- so it goes, even if the bad times are only occasional. The biggest Thing about these kind of relationships, to me, is that it's so easy to fall into a routine and let things stagnate, and before you know it, it's just How Things Are and it's easier to just deal than start rocking the boat.

#Not an art #Talky talky #Dysfunctional relationships and toxic family is always something I have Thoughts on #cw child abuse #This is also just me blabbing with little evidence so dont come for my throat ok I'm just pondering #I could talk about the kuzuryu family too I think there's a lot more context stuff there #But that's a diff post #I also hc that Kaz started thinking about the death machines before Junko #Not in a serious manner but as a malcontent kid who felt bitter and insecure and wanted to let it out somehow #Who hasnt fantasised about pushing someone down the stairs or sth right? That's where it started for him #Blah blah the 'anyone is capable of evil' theme #But also the 'that entire class was full of kids at risk and no one noticed or helped them and that sure didnt stop them from seeking-#-release and control and company from bad people who in turn affected them'

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empty-blog-for-lurking · 6 months

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My ideal vld fix-it is Lance and Hunk having "two birds on a wire" style blind faith vs unhealthy mistrust parallel arcs, where Lance trusts the wrong person and not himself to the point of actively ignoring the warning signs he sees vs Hunk who trusts himself but doesnt trust others to the point of going full Nancy Drew and going behind his teams back, and this causes a chasm in their friendship which would have been more focused upon in earlier seasons (and then they kiss <3)

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inkblot22 · 1 year

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All This Over A Notebook

I don't have any idea what's gotten into me. I seem to have lost my marbles. This will have a part two. I'd also like to mention that as I was adding the warnings, the little Grammarly emoji went from nervous to horrified.

Tw for captivity, implied bullying, referenced violence, item insecurity (like one of the reader's things isn't with them), fear, poverty, Floyd and Jade Leech being themselves. This is mostly for part two, but all characters have been aged up to 18+

Floyd wasn’t so bad to have around.

That’s what you’d say if you were a liar. You aren’t. In the few months that you’ve known him, Floyd has been nothing but a menace.

It started out simple, of course, nothing too physical, just some verbal jabs, and then he got more and more physical to the point that your skin crawled when you barely thought of him. You’d pass by him in the hallway and he’d be in one of his moods. Not a good or bad mood, just a mood. The type where he wanted to pick on someone, that someone being whichever was unluckier between you and Riddle.

Let’s be real. It was you. It was usually you. Riddle knew Floyd, he knew what his schedule was like, and even though he was a stickler for the rules, he knew how to get in, finish his shit, and leave. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t try your best to avoid Floyd. It was just that you weren’t as perfect as Riddle, especially not when it came to keeping away from the eel menace.

You had a good streak going, though. You hadn’t seen him in several days, but there was a massive downside. You’d been paired with Jade for alchemy earlier, which was just your luck, and he had somehow managed to take your notes, despite you vividly recalling that you placed them back in your crappy little backpack. After changing out of your uniform, you sent him a message asking him to drop off your notebook. He left you on read for fifteen long minutes before finally responding with a message that read like a death sentence.

“you’re free to swing by and pick them up prefect”

As much as you wanted to just wait until the weekend where for sure Floyd would be off finding someone else to torment, you couldn’t. That was your only notebook. Grim didn’t take very good notes but was really territorial with his junk so you couldn’t exactly ask to borrow his, not even so you could write down notes for tomorrow.

You didn’t want to wait for any longer than you needed to, either. That meant you were going right now. Grim’s big, glassy eyes watched you as you scampered to and fro, snatching up your backpack and what little amount of money hadn’t been used to purchase food for Grim and yourself just in case Jade was holding your notebook ransom.

“Where are you going?” Grim asked.

“Jade has my notebook.” You responded, flatly.

Surprisingly, for once, Grim kind of just accepted that as what it was and went back to his homework.

Instead of asking if he could come along, he asked, “Are you gonna come back with food?”

“Uh, from the Lounge? Probably not. I don’t want to be there any longer than I need to. Maybe if the cafeteria is open or if Jamil is wandering around I can ask?”

Grim grumbled, something about him starving, and you smiled, thinking about how the two of you were basically living off of pennies. This was Twisted Wonderland’s hospitality, you guessed.

“Okay, bye, Grim. I should only be a few minutes. Okay?”

He was still grumbling when you left, but you couldn’t hold it against him. You really hoped you’d bump into Jamil or Trey on the way back. Someone who understood your predicament and also had an excess of food, but first you had to go get your notebook.

The hall of mirrors was, as always, eerily silent. As you took a step forward into the soft beach sand that was somehow always littered around the entrance to Octavinelle, no matter how often it was swept, you swallowed and prayed to a god you didn’t think existed in this world, begging them to make sure that Floyd was somewhere else.

Then you stepped into the mirror.

As always, the lounge was busy. You’d sent Jade another message, asking him where your notebook was because you were here, and he replied instantly this time.

“it’s in my room on the desk” followed quickly by a “would you mind stopping in the lounge so i could unlock the room for you”

The last place you wanted to go was the Lounge. If Floyd wasn’t in there, Azul definitely would be, and you really didn’t have time for his bullshit today. All he did was hassle you to come work for him, and all you wanted to do was study, just go home and study, hopefully getting some food on the way back. In the larger scope of things, you suppose you’d also want to get back to your world but that was out of your hands entirely, so studying would have to keep your attention otherwise you’d die from the stress of it all.

Jade was in the middle of serving someone when you walked in. Surprisingly, Floyd and Azul were nowhere to be seen. You were impatient, but not an asshole, so you waited until he went back to the kitchen to follow him and grab his sleeve.

“Ah, how very nice to see you, prefect.” He smiled, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You have my notebook. Remember?”

“Oh, that’s right.” He handed the plate he had picked up to someone else, telling them which table it went to before turning back to you, “Well, let’s go.”

Jade didn’t say anything after that. You walked with him in silence up to his room. You’d never been in there before, since you mostly kept to your and Grim’s little bubble. Beyond that, everyone knew to keep their distance from the Leeches. They played off each other like a game of tennis from hell. Jade unlocked the door and held it open for you. You heard the sounds of a shower from the bathroom. You’d have to be quick.

You slipped inside with a quiet breath of thanks and made a beeline for the desk with the terrarium sitting on it, as well as your crusty old notebook, open on the same page you’d left it on, complete with doodles of Professor Crewel as a sea bunny in the margins. You slipped your backpack from your shoulders, closed the notebook, placed it inside, and turned back around.

Jade was smiling at you from the door.

“Thanks, Jade. I could have sworn I put it in my bag,” You said, walking towards the door.

“Oh, you did.” Jade said, “I just took it back out.”

Before you could react, before you could get angry, ask why, anything, Jade slammed the door closed and you heard the telltale click of the lock.

You dropped your backpack and ran towards the door, trying the knob before giving up and battering your fists against it.

“Jade, what the hell?! This isn’t funny!” You hollered.

You heard the shower turn off and your slamming became more frantic, now trying to break down the door. Why did all the doors have to be inswing? Why did this door specifically lock from the outside? You went back to the desk and searched for something to break the doorknob, and the bathroom door handle jiggled.

You felt like a deer in the headlights, only able to look at the doorknob as it slowly twisted. All you could hear was the sound of your breath and heartbeat, roaring like an ocean in your ears. Your brain was screaming at you, begging you to hide or anything, but your limbs felt like lead, solid ice, something heavy and immovable.

As you expected, Floyd stepped out of the bathroom, looking about as disheveled as usual. He didn’t see you for a second, heterochromic eyes looking at the closed door before his head swung around to look at you. He grinned, and you felt your heart skip a beat, then kickstart back into a thundering pace as he walked towards you.

You stepped away and he didn’t follow, instead picking up his phone from his desk and flopping over onto his bed.

“Hey, Shrimpy.” He greeted, casually.

You could barely breathe, much less respond. You had to get out of here.

“Jade’s not gonna come back until we’re done. Why don’t you relax for a bit?”

You could not. If there was anything more impossible, it’d be going back to your own world at this minute. Floyd sat up and put his phone down, staring at you before he finally approached, long, lazy strides.

His hand gripped your shoulder, he leaned down and you flinched back.

“C’mon, Shrimpy. I promise I don’t bite… too hard.” He punctuated that sentence with a laugh.

Part Two Here!

#tw item insecurity #tw jade leech #tw: yandere #disney twst #twisted wonderland #tw: dark content #tw: dark themes #yandere #tw captivity #twst #tw: floyd leech #tw: jade leech #tw bullying #tw biting #tw poverty #yandere floyd x reader #yandere floyd leech

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presleyhearted · 1 year

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Little Black Dress | one-shot

・❥・Pairing: 70s!e x reader

・❥・Genre: a pinch of angst, fluff, mature themes, 70s!Elvis, shy reader, insecure reader, jealous Elvis.

・❥・Ratings & Warnings: 18+ NSFW. MDNI.

・❥・WC: 5803 words

・❥・Summary: After being a devoted Elvis Presley fan for more than a decade, you and your best friend manage to miraculously score tickets for his Las Vegas show. You wear a classic little black dress, as your best friend decides it's the perfect opportunity to wear it for the first time. Unbeknownst to you, what you believed to be a 'plain' outfit choice seemed to have caught the eye of the King of Rock 'n Roll himself.

・❥ A/N: Hi my beautiful followers! I apologise for not posting for a while, life happens and well, you'll soon find out that I am quite the perfectionist when it comes to writing. This is unlike any other I have written before, my first attempt in writing NSFW content. Please be gentle with me, aha. Anyways, I hope you all like it! 💋

@literally-just-elvis-fics

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

“I think it’s too short,” You said, attempting to pull the dress down lower.

“Girl, you look hot, don’t overthink it.” Your best friend, Annie, confidently replied in contrast to your self-doubt about your attire.

Exactly a week ago, you managed to score some tickets to see Elvis Presley at the Las Vegas Hilton hotel. Even if the infamous singer has been playing numerous back-to-back shows at the infamous venue, the tickets remained challenging as ever to get a hold of. It seemed that even after the decade-long absence from the stage, his name never failed to lose its popularity and relevance. As a result, crowds upon crowds of people were lined up just outside the ballroom excitedly waiting to be let in. And for once, you and your best friend were one of them.

You became an Elvis fan since you were a freshly-turned teenager, his charm and unique way of performing immediately captured your curosity. Despite, of course, against your parents’ wishes. Like all the other parents in the country, they were determined in calling Elvis Presley “a rebellious boy” and how his scandalous movements are wrecking the minds of the youth. You laughed at that and simply ignored the “warning.” You were still fairly young back then, only really discovering him after he finished his military service. And so, ever since the start of teenagehood - you became a fan.

Because here you are, all these years later and still an avid fan of him. Through the persuasive ways of your best friend, she has managed to convince you to finally wear the little black dress at the very back of your closet. You purchased it a while ago, with no specific intention on wearing it anywhere, as you didn’t perceive yourself as a wildly confident dresser. But as your best friend said, it seemed to be the perfect outfit to wear for your first Elvis Presley concenrt.

And so, here you were. A tight little black dress that reached just a little above your mid thigh, paired with black boots and your hair in a half-updo. You thought it was basic and simple enough, but fitting enough for the event. But now, as you stood in the lobby - you began having second thoughts that the dress might be too short for the occasion.

“Annie, does my underwear show through this?” You said, turning around, “I don’t want to be flashing anyone.” You worriedly say, knowing that the material of the dress is quite thin.

Annie laughed, “You are absolutely fine, Y/N. “

You sighed in relief, “Ok, just double checking. “

“Besides, if you were to flash anyone, it’d be Elvis so-”

You gasped and hit her arm, “Annie! Oh my god, No!”

You shake your head horrified, face fully red in embarrassment at just the thought of such an incident.

Annie simply smirked, “Why? It wouldn’t be so bad.”

You smile shyly, “Let’s just go before they close the doors.” You switch the subject immediately, keen to draw away from Annie teasing you.

Excited chatter filled the ballroom, with not one single empty seat. You and your best friend were luckily seated only a few rows from the very front of the stage, but of course, found yourself rising from your seats and being as close to the front as possible. As close as possible to him.

The moment you saw him appear on stage, it was surreal. He was one of the most photographed celebrities, but those photographs did not do him justice. It was true what others have said, how Elvis Presley’s looks were almost to the level of a greek god. A sharp jawline, beautiful tanned skin, high cheekbones, plump lips, and the most striking blue eyes that seem to pierce right through whoever he’s looking at. His black hair was messy, but fit him perfectly, falling over his eyes a little - with that boyish smile gleaming at everyone. It was such a stark contrast from the all clean-cut Ken doll throughout his Hollywood years. Even more so, his jumpsuit hugged his lean and tall figure, with the few buttons undone to reveal his chest.

You were entranced. You spent your days endlessly playing his records in your bedroom at your parents house, and now more recently in your own apartment. But hearing him sing, right at this moment, in front of you - his talent never wavered. It astounds and shocks you at the same time, the familiarity of it and the newness of seeing him perform right in front of your eyes. He seemed to be more confident in his performing persona, knows how to command a stage and gone was the shy smile of his when he first started out. All throughout the concert, he would every now and again drop jokes and would constantly check if the audience is enjoying the show.

It is almost the end now, and sweat trickles down his face and it doesn’t surprise you. The way that Elvis performs, it’s not a case of simply singing. No. It’s the vocals, along with his dances and karate movements mixed along that capture the eager-eyed audience. His immense energy surprises you, and you aren’t ashamed to admit that you are one of the girls in the audience screaming constantly in excitement.

But then came the moment you’ve heard through hushed whispers, and that is how Elvis would kiss his fans at his concerts. You thought it was simply a rumour that spread like wildfire, as celebrity rumours do - but now you can definitely confirm it to be true. And that is because you are now on the receiving end of such a public display of affection. You barely registered the very brief encounter, but it happened. Elvis cupped your cheeks with his hands, and planted a brief soft kiss to your lips. He pulled away, but made sure to fixate his gaze on you with that smirk of his quirk in the corner of his lips. He was quick to be pulled into another kiss by another female audience member, but you were frozen. You touched your lips with your fingertips, the sensation still lingering as waves of bliss course through you.

Of course, you were not naive to the fact that you are merely one of the many women that he would kiss that night. Afterall, the evidence was right in front of you - how Elvis walked away from the stage and made his way around, interacting with as many fans as possibe. This went on for a good while, before he returned to the stage and resumed performing a few more songs.

After the final song, Elvis bids goodbye to the audience and gratefully thanks them before the curtains draw the show to a close. Your cheeks seem to be hurting, probably from all the smiling you’ve been doing so naturally. But you are back to reality now, the concert you’ve waited for what seems like your whole life - is now over. It felt like it was over in a blink of an eye, and you never fully understood that phrase when people say it - but you do now. Hours worth of performances were done in a single second it felt.

But despite the shrinking feeling of dismay within you, the euphoric sensation coupled with pure adrenaline coursed fiercely through your veins. You linked arms with Annie, who herself shared the same expression - absolutely elated and sad it’s over. Everyone slowly dispersed the venue, excited chatters of memorable moments from the show filled the conversations.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Your best friend says, as she sighs while you are in the line of people exiting the venue.

You shake your head, “Neither can I.”

“Well, now we can cross off two things from our bucket list.” Annie muses, as she smirks.

“Finally going to an Elvis concert?” You ask, unsure of what the second one could be.

“That and also kissing him.” Annie says, pure delight in her voice.

You bite your bottom lip, unable to control a smile.

“Gosh, did you see how that lady leaped over the tables just to get to him?” Annie asks, lowering her voice a little, “She’s my idol.”

You chuckle, “She definitely was determined.”

“I’m surprised that his clothes didn’t rip to shreds, like back in the 50s?” Annie says, as you quickly recall the news articles of ‘rebellious Elvis’ performing and would often end with his clothes, quite literally - destroyed. There was a photograph of him walking backstage with no shirt on, and his pants that might as well be shorts.

You shake your head, “Gosh, yeah. That was - people are strong, I’m telling you.” You chuckle.

Annie nods and says, “I don’t know about you, but I am starving. Where do you want to go?”

You both were in the lobby of the hotel now, much of the crowd of people have exited the hotel and are most likely finding transportation to go home.

Before you could even respond to the question, you hear a rush of footsteps that seem to be getting near you.

“Excuse me!”

You both turn around and see a man who seems a little out of breath, “Hi, ladies. “ He offers a kind smile, and you instantly recognise him as part of Elvis Presley’s entourage. One of the men in his ‘Memphis Mafia.’

“I know you.” Annie furrows her eyebrows, seemingly taking longer to recognize the man.

“Hi, I’m Jerry. I work for Elvis, and well he has invited you both to his suite for dinner.” He says, as if it’s the most casual thing to say in the world.

You freeze and exchange a look of shock with your best friend.

“I-I’m sorry?” You stutter, not fully believing the words.

“Us? He’s inviting us? To meet him?” Annie questions, tone in equal disbelief as you.

Jerry nods, seemingly unfazed by your reactions.

“Yes, that’s right.” He nods in certainty.

You look at Annie again.

“We’d love to!” Annie responds grinning excitedly, interrupting your thoughts from running into overthinking.

As Jerry leads the way, Annie whispers to you, “Don’t overthink it, Y/N. This is once in a lifetime.”

On the way there, Jerry makes small talk with both of you. Just the usual case of introducing yourselves, how long you’ve been a fan and all that. All the while, trying to calm the fast thumping of your heart at the reality that not only will you be face to face with Elvis - but you’ll be talking to him. And also thinking about the wild thought that he has asked to meet you.

There was not even one single point during the concert in which you’d thought he’d be fixated on you like that.

You have been in his suite for an hour now, and overwhelmed is an understatement. The suite was filled with many other people; beautiful girls that could easily pass as models (perhaps they are), actors and actresses, and of course the Memphis Mafia. It still felt like an intimate affair though, with only around fifteen people in the room. You were sitting on the velvet couch, as you took gradual sips of your drink. Evidently, you were subtly people watching. Annie seemed to be caught up in a conversation with Jerry, as they both lingered near the pool table. Her laugh seemed endless, and you know from the look in her eyes and the gestures that she was definitely flirting with Jerry.

You’ve met Elvis earlier, it was very briefly since he wanted to say hello to everyone. But in that split-second interaction, you cannot help but blush and stammer your name out as you introduce yourself. You were thankful that he was wrapped up in a conversation with someone else, as it decreased the chances of you absolutely making a fool of yourself in front of your celebrity crush. Right now, he seems to be in conversation with a comedian and his laugh echoes. You cannot help but smile at the sound.

Annie seems to be nowhere in sight, but so does Jerry and you can only make assumptions of what that may mean. You sighed and stood up, refilling your glass of wine as you leaned against the corner of the wall - people watching. You don’t go unnoticed though, as a member of the Memphis Mafia approaches you - Red West.

“Hi.”

Your eyes refocus on the new face in front of you, he flashes a grin at you as he leaned the side of his body on the wall.

You clear your throat, “Hi.”

“I’m Red.” He says, sticking his hand out.

You shake it and kindly smile, “Nice to meet you, Red. I’m Y/N.”

He repeats your name, an amused grin on his lips.

“So, Y/N. . . avoiding humans then?” He jokes, as you are removed from all the conversations going on. Here you were, standing alone.

You chuckle, “Not exactly. I was part of the human chatter earlier.”

Red nods with his arms crossed, “And now you’ve realised that humans are a pain in the ass.”

You laugh, “I was going to say I just like people watching, but that too.”

Red’s eyes flicker to your lips and you hardly notice it, completely oblivious that he is physically attracted to you. You yourself have never been experienced in the art of flirting nor romance, therefore you just deemed it to be a normal conversation.

“Sounds like stalker territory, but okay.” Red says, dramatically putting his hands up.

You rolled your eyes but laughed, “You’ve never heard of that term before?”

He shakes his head, “Nope.”

“It just means someone who is an observer of life. You know, how Shakespeare says that thing about how movies are ideas from what humans are like in real life. People get ideas from people, by people watching.” You explain.

Red steps a little closer to you, and this you notice. But you don’t react because the conversation has been harmless so far.

“Like Romeo and Juliet then, that’s Shakespeare right?” Red says.

That’s not exactly what you were saying, and you are pretty sure he just ignored the rest of what you were trying to say. But you are also aware of how some men just don’t use whatever brain cell they have. So, you are not surprised at his question.

You smiled tightly, “Yeah.”

“You are very smart, you know. Very pretty just like Juliet.” Red says, a glint in his eye as he smirks.

You laugh unsure of what to say, “Thanks, I guess.”

And still, you are oblivious as ever with his flirtatious tone.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of azure eyes gaze intently at you from across the room. Elvis has been socialising with everyone for an hour or so now, but in the corner of his eye he is still paying attention to you. Ever since his eyes met your face at the show earlier, he couldn’t help but immediately want to see you again. He has seen and been with many beautiful women in his life, the advantages of being who he is - the way women just flock to him without him even lifting a finger. But your beauty was not overdone, and your whole look was minimal. It was obvious that you were not dressed to impress, as they may say. You dressed as one would to attend a concert, but not with the intention of ever drawing his attention. Well, you did. But you had no idea.

Of course, Elvis would invite a bunch of people to his suite for dinner after his shows. Aside from celebrity figures, Elvis would also invite people from the audience. Most of the fans invited immediately said yes, as you and Annie did as well. The hopeful women that clearly wanted and competed for Elvis’ undivided attention surrounded him, but his head snapped to you. You who was leaning so close to Red West, as you laughed in your fixated conversation with him. You both looked so in your own bubble, apart from everyone else. Apart from him. The women around him keep on talking, but Elvis is no longer listening.

Elvis has thrown warnings to the MM before about his fans, if any of them were to try anything with any of the fans - he wouldn’t take it lightly. Of course, some fans that he would invite to his suite - Elvis had no intention of being intimate with. And so, Elvis wouldn't bat an eye if any of the MM were to flirt with them.

But he clearly expressed his interest in you to the MM, and so rage fuelled his body at the sight of Red going against his words. Even worse, it looked like you were enjoying Red’s company with your cute laugh and endless smile.

Elvis has had enough. He excuses himself from the women around him and stands up, much to their dismay. But they quickly talk amongst themselves. Elvis strides over to you and Red, he takes his sunglasses off and folds it confidently - holding it in his hands.

“Red.” One word and Red freezes. He turns around and there is Elvis with his jaw tightened and a tight smile on his lips.

“Boss.”

“Heard you both laughing all the way there, wondered what the joke is.” Elvis says, though the intensity in his eyes mentally burning holds into Red’s head.

You, of course, were frozen that Elvis decided to show up all of the sudden. Still not used to his effortless charm and handsome smile of his.

“Um, i-it was n-nothing. “ You stutter, mentally hitting yourself at the sudden timidity of your voice.

Elvis eyes are on you but he quickly looks back at Red, who seemed to have gotten more nervous than ever. He is scratching the back of his neck and is no longer leaning against the wall, but straightening his posture.

“Honey, I doubt it. What do ya say, Red?” He says.

Red immediately gets the hint and realises that he has fucked up. Here he was blatantly flirting with you, right in Elvis’ line of sight.

“I’m saying. . . I uh, Charlie needs my help on something. I better go.” He says, quickly excusing himself and briefly looking back at you. You frown, confused as his sudden change of mood.

Elvis sighs and pats him on the back, “Good idea, man.”

“Bye, it was nice to meet you!” You call out and he shoots you a small smile before vanishing somewhere else.

“You enjoying yourself, honey?” Elvis asks, the southern drawl so apparent in his tone. He casually takes the spot that Red was standing in, but Elvis is closer and he is leaning against the wall.

You attempt to make eye contact with him, but his gaze is intense. Even more so without his sunglasses on.

“Yeah, it’s nice. Thanks for , um, inviting me.” You say, twirling the empty glass of wine in your hands nervously.

“Can I be honest with you, Y/N?” He asks.

“You remember my name.” You say before you can stop yourself.

Elvis chuckles amusedly, “Why wouldn’t I? Miss Little Black Dress.” He says, shamelessly trailing his gaze from your long legs up to the gaze in your eyes.

You feel your cheeks heat up, “Not the most creative choice, I know.” You smile at him, trying to make yourself relax and appear more confident.

Elvis shakes his head at your comment, “You look good, honey. Don’t count yourself out.”

Although he has probably complimented many women, his words still make you naturally blush. You can’t help but look away and nervously say, “Thanks.”

The one chance that Elvis Presley is having a conversation to you and to you alone, and you are looking away? You mentally hit yourself and try to push out the shyness that seems to have taken over you since the start of this conversation. With Red, it was easy conversation, you weren’t rethinking each word that left your mouth. But he wasn’t Elvis. He wasn’t the celebrity crush that you’ve endlessly devoted yourself over for the past eleven years. Elvis found you adorably amusing, clearly hyper aware of the effect he has on you.

You muster some courage of confidence and attempt to meet his eyes again, as you clear your throat.

“Sorry, you were saying?” You ask.

“Hmm?”

“Uh. . you said about being honest with me about something?” You explain, redirecting the topic of conversation.

He snaps his fingers and chuckles, “Ah! Right. I, well, would you like to get out of here?” He asks, his hand lightly brushing your hand but not quite intertwining your fingers.

You freeze, not being able to maintain the shock with your eyes. Although you were practically oblivious when a guy was flirting with you, the naivety did not extend to words such as the ones that Elvis just let go. You knew what he was implying, and you were quite certain that he was hinting to sleeping with you. But this is when you drew the line. Sure, it was nice to talk to your idol, but crossing over to that territory? You don’t think you are sure of yourself. Besides, you haven’t even crossed territory like that with any guy.

“I-”

He interrupts you, as if reading your mind.

“I won’t hurt you, Y/N. I promise. I just figured it’s easier to get to know each other without all this noise.” He explains, voice soft.

Your best friend’s voice echoes in your mind at that very moment.

‘Live a little, Y/N. When an opportunity presents itself, just jump. As long as it’s not harmful. Besides, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.’

You hesitate, unable to form words.

Before you could even register what is happening, you find yourself smiling at Elvis and agreeing to his offer, “Okay.”

It has been a while now since Elvis whisked you away from all the ‘noise’ as he described it. You were sure that your heart was beating loud enough for anyone to hear, as he placed his arm lightly around your waist. You were now in his room, and it was as luxurious as you’d expect it to be - the interior exactly what you imagined his taste would be. You were unsure at first on what to do, as you stood there. But luckily, Elvis was careful and noticed your nervous energy - he offered you to take a seat at the very edge of his bed.

“How old are you, darlin?” He questions, as he faces you fully.

“Twenty-four.” You say, and your mind immediately runs wild at what he must think of you now.

Here you were, at the adult age of twenty-four and yet your life experiences seemed to not suit that description of such an age. You struggled to even hold a conversation with Elvis without stuttering or looking overly timid. In this stage of a woman's life, aren’t they supposed to be confident in their desires and advances? Romantic and sexual experiences should be vast by now, right? That’s what you believed, and yet - here you were. An anomaly within that belief. Your shy nature upon initial conversation with him, made Elvis conclude that you were a precious jewel out of the many. But your naivety to such things made you embarrassed, as someone with overflowing sex appeal had his undivided attention on you.

Oh shit. He’ll probably ask something and that’s that. He’ll find out how embarrassingly inexperienced I am, and I’ll have to make a run from it. That is humiliating.

You thought to yourself. Although you cannot be one-hundred percent sure that the conversation would lead to that, you know in yourself there is a pretty solid chance that it will. After all, the environment you are in just screams it. Here you were, literally sitting on his bed, the door is closed and it ‘s just the two of you. Besides, you’ve heard the rumours - about his sexual appetite. Afterall, he was this rock ‘n roll singer who practically had women fawning all over him. Logically speaking, he had to do something with that adrenaline after walking off stage - right?

You were getting ahead of yourself again, your thoughts running rampant and Elvis clearly noticed this. He delicately placed his finger underneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, concern swimming in his blue eyes.

You shake your head, “N-Nothing. I, um. . .”

“I meant what I said, I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.” He says, placing his hand over yours as he squeezes it reassuringly.

You sighed and nodded, trying to calm your nerves down.

“Do you read?” Elvis asks suddenly.

“I used to a lot, but not anymore.” You reply, managing to form a normal sentence without stuttering. You tilt your head in confusion as Elvis gets up, but shortly returns back to his spot next to you with a book in his hands.

“Why did you stop?” He asked, his genuine curiosity took you aback a little.

You shrugged, “Life became busy and I don’t know, I eventually lost interest I guess.”

You look at the title of the book that he’s holding, “The Impersonal Life by Joseph Benner.”

Upon reading the title of the unknown book, Elvis delves into revealing that he is an avid reader and brings a suitcase full of books whenever he’s on the road. Surprise would be an understatement, you admitted to him that you never expected him to be a reader. As the conversation grows, you find yourself relaxing and all the nervous energy vanishes from you. You thought that when Elvis said that he wanted to get to know you, it was simply just a phrase. But he truly did evidently show that he was interested in what you had to say, you felt flattered. You would answer his questions, but then he would ask another one based on the answer you just gave him. And you knew that he was listening to you, as he stared intently and would nod encouragingly at you to continue.

Initially stepping into the room, there was no clock in sight. You wished that you had your watch on, it would’ve helped to know what time it was. It felt like you’ve been talking to each other for a while now, you presume it has been hours. And yet, Elvis was true to his word - he hasn’t done anything that you didn’t like.

You were in the middle of explaining to him the meaning behind your name, but you stopped mid-sentence.

“I’m sorry, I’m just rambling. Am I boring you?” You smile at him apologetically.

Elvis grins amusedly at you and shook his head, “The opposite, honey.”

He nods at your black boots, “Interesting choice.”

You chuckled, “Yeah, well, wearing heels makes my feet hurt. I mean, I have worn heels before because on some occasions, you just have to. But my black boots are my go-to, and coincidentally enough-”

You are looking down at your black boots, but stop yourself from continuing your sentence because you feel his focus has shifted. In the corner of your eye, you feel the heat of his gaze and this makes you naturally turn your head to face him. The pair of blue eyes flickered between your eyes, and your lips. Elvis sighed and it was obvious that he desperately wanted to lean in. All the while when you were talking, his mind kept directing him to stare at those lips of yours. So perfectly pink and inviting. But he held himself back, and didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

It was only this, in this moment did you realise how close together your bodies were. Your thighs were pressed up against each other and literally no space between you. It was silent for a while. You found yourself studying his face, and you still cannot believe how perfect he looks. It was so unlike the beauty of any other human being, you thought. You found yourself tracing his features with your finger, lastly touching his plump lips. Your motions were slow, and agonsing it seemed as Elvis' breathing increased. All the while you maintained your eye contact with him in good control. His eyes held pure fascination with your actions, a stark contrast from your shy nature. Your touch was delicate and careful, but he can tell that there is something more wanting to break out from you.

It was in this very moment that you felt a hot sensation within you. You have hardly done anything, and Elvis is already feeling that familiar ache. His eyes intensified, as his tongue wetted his lips.

Annie’s words echo through your brain again.

“I want to kiss you,” You finally admit, voice delicate but strong. You have never been this forward with a guy before, and so the words that leave your mouth surprise you.

“You don’t have to ask.” He says, his tone of voice low.

You circle your arms around his neck, and finally - your lips meet his. The melding of your lips together, causes Elvis to let out a groan. The sound sparks the sensation in your lower body. The kiss was sweet and slow at first, but you felt yourself wanting more. An unfamiliar determination takes over you, as your hands thread through his hair - pulling it tightly. Elvis welcomes the pain, and tightly secures an arm around your waist - his touch searingingly hot through your little black dress. The kiss is far from slow, as you both grow in need. His other hand grips your cheek as he deepens the kiss, recapturing your lips again, as he bites into your bottom lip. You let out a gasp, and swipe your tongue on his lips. The sweet sound of your gasps spurs something darker within Elvis, he needs more. But he can’t be selfish, and so he pulls back from the blissful touches.

Elvis is breathing hard, and you do too. Both trying to catch your breaths, as you try to comprehend what you just did. But a smile pulls on your lips, as does his.

“Y/N, if we continue. . . I-I don’t think I can stop.” He warns, and your heart beats at how careful and honest he is. Staying true to his word.

You lean forward once again and whisper, as you look him right in the eye, “Then don’t.”

You gulp at the words you just let go, unaware where you found this confidence from. But you keep it going, not knowing when you’ll shrink back into your timid nature.

Elvis’ movements are fast, as your lips meet together for the second time. This time, the kiss is not gentle anymore. It is filled with hunger and pure desire, a kiss that feels like the dichotomy of scorching desert sun and the icy glaciers that are surrounded by the Southern Ocean. A kiss that both felt like a crashing wave of relief, and an invisible rope tightly binding you and Elvis together. Your hands travelled through his back, his neck and his hair. Elvis’ hand trailed up your thigh and you felt your heart beating faster, as he slid the ends of your dress higher and higher. His other supported the back of your neck, as you naturally arched your back - displaying your neck invitingly to him.

Elvis left a trail of strong kisses to your neck, “You have such soft skin, honey.” He hums, and you feel his teeth tug lightly at the skin of your neck. You moan at the feeling, knowing that you’ll have to find a way later on to hide the inevitable hickies that’ll be marked on your skin. You feel Elvis smirk at the sound, and this only encourages him to add more to the ones already forming prominently on your skin.

“Elvis, I-I” You gasped.

He pulls away, you frown confused at abruptly stopping his actions. Elvis finds this cute and chuckles at your expression, “Let’s take these off.” He removes both of your boots, and winks at you.

He pulls you back into a kiss, and naturally brings you to his lap with your legs on either side of him, straddling his lap. Elvis groans at the contact of your thin underwear on his crotch, in this new position. His hand on the back of your neck finds its way to grip the butterfly clip that holds your hair together, he removes it letting your hair fall down and rest on your shoulders.

Elvis looks at you in awe, “Beautiful.”

Your cheeks heat up, only adding to the warmth that fiercely courses through your body.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the little black dress.” He says, and you feel breathless.

“Oh do you now, Mr. Presley?” You muse, tilting your head at him as you bite your lip.

Elvis places both of his hands on the ends of your dress and attempts to remove it smoothly, but grows frustrated at the strength of the material and you suddenly hear a sharp sound of tearing. Elvis pays it no mind and lets it fall to the floor.

You laugh and shake your head at his frustration. Elvis laughs along with you and leaves kisses at the side of your face, as you glance at the torn material on his velvet carpet.

“But it’s time to say goodbye to it.” Elvis smirks.

He flips you both over, so your back is on the soft sheets of the bed as he presses his body against you. Both of your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. You help him rid of his clothing, admiring in awe at his bare chest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a new one.” He assures you, implying to the ripped up dress.

“I have a better idea,” You say, tone sultry.

Elvis smirks, his fingers circling your breasts, as his thumbs graze your perked nipples in repeated motions. You moan at the action, arching your back. At the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head, Elvis wishes to have the sight before him captured into his mind forever.

“Hmm? And what would that be?” His deep voice, sending you into limitless bliss.

You reach your hand out and grip the necklace dangling from his neck, using it as a way to pull his face towards you, as you clash your lips together and you feel him smirk through the kiss. He detaches himself from your lips, and descends down to kiss your jaw, your skin and now your chest. He is quick enveloping the hardened buds, wetting them with his tongue, as he repeats the action to your other breast. Your mind is in a frenzy, feeling your toes curl at the pure euphoria as you moan.

Thank goodness for the Little Black Dress, you thought.

#elvis fic #elvis fanfic #smut #fic recs #ep #elvis x reader #mature themes #70s!e #shy reader #insecure reader #maybe a cliche lol #one shot #astralheart21

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moonwoodhollow · 2 months

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Jean's Life - before | next

Jean almost expected her mother to open the door and embrace her with a warm smile, jazz would be playing from the living room and the smell of freshly baked peach pie would be in the air, but no one opened the door and it was unnaturally quiet as if the house already knew that its owner was gone, only from the playground on the other side of the street could she make out the loud laughter of children.

Exhausted and overcome by her emotions, she sat down on the steps in front of the house, they were still warm from the afternoon sun, although a cool evening breeze was already blowing from the west, which carried the smell of autumn and decay. She knew what had to be done, what arrangements had to be made, and yet she couldn't even muster the courage to go to the entrance, unlock the door, and enter the house. Lost in thought, she gazed into the distance and gave free rein to her pain.

#ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sim: jean pollard #ts4 story #sims 4 story #sims story #Jean changed into a more comfortable outfit for the drive to Del Sol + she cried so her make up is a little messed up #you can finally see her freckles!#I felt like this post didn't need any monologue or spoken words. it didn't really fit the theme so that's why I wrote a paragraph #I'm pretty insecure of my writing in English so I hope I conveyed everything correctly #i always fear that my writing sounds 'not english enough' ugh #*mine #*mystory

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mosaic-broken-hearts17 · 5 days

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i still think that the 3am songs on midnights are some of the best songs taylor has ever released

#like all of them are such standouts on her career #they explore the themes of greif #deep love #and insecurity #and all in such beautiful ways

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welcometogrouchland · 10 months

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I think as much as it can be important for marginalized traits to be portrayed positively in fiction due to the long history of them being villainized/portrayed as undesirable, I also think that like. If it's not in character for a character to love their marginalized traits, or if it's not befitting the tone of the story for people to be shining beacons of self love no matter what else is happening then like. Maybe that's also bad. Not as representation but as writing. Which also matters

#ramblings of a lunatic #if characters having complex or insecure relationships to their marginalized traits is tiring for you or is upsetting #then 100% you're allowed to not like seeing that in fiction...but that doesn't mean it's a bad writing move #esp if it tells us more about the character or the society they live in or the themes #sometimes characters have insecurities about x trait and that's not for you. but that's a personal dislike #we have got to stop treating representation like one day we'll find a one size fits all format

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willowser · 11 months

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not to make love island kirishima into Bummer island, but !! finally getting the courage to sit him down and lay it all out — the gnawing insecurity, the guilt you’ve been harboring because of it. loving how big his heart is, but wishing he’d save more of it just for you )):

and… my boy has a full head-in-hands moment because !!! he feels awful, but he’s mostly just shocked ?? it hadn’t even occurred to him that you’d feel jealous or threatened. because from his perspective, all the other islanders are either flirting for the fun of it or are just trying to be friendly. and you’d just kinda balk at him bc ???? surely he can see that everyone and their mother wants him?? but all he does is shrug noncommittally because — deep down, he doesn’t think he’s all that desirable. at least, not in any meaningful way. he’s just some guy?? a former dumb jock!! that’s it!!

this is the first time you’ve ever seen him look sad or unsure of himself !! as he admits that he never thought someone would care deeply enough about him that they would ever feel scared of losing him. kiri has two big revelations that day: he had been hurting you. you thought he was worth hurting for. 🥺🥺

(ok now i gotta lighten the mood real quick !!! i’m imagining after this talk he starts to get better about setting boundaries and letting people down gently but it’s so Embarrassing sometimes bc a newcomer will be like, “you’re so big! i bet you give the best cuddles” 😏😏 and he’s just like 😁 “you’ll have to ask my girl!” he’s doing his best ok ☠️☠️ )

JORDAN you always come into my inbox and BREAK MY HEART AKHFAKHFAKAF your additions are always so moving and emotional and well-written and you're so big brained ????? THIS IS SO PERFECT AFAHGKAH i...don't even have anything to add because you've said it perfectly 🥺🥺🥺 this is exactly how i imagine it, as well !!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 WAAAAAH kissing you !!!!

#bowing at your feet as always jordan dear #WISHING HE'D SAVE MORE OF IT FOR YOU WAAAAHHH #i agree literally so much he doesn't even get that everyone wants him #he just doesn't even know how to accept that #and he can't believe you've been feeling threatened ?? INSECURE ABOUT IT ??? ABOUT LOSING HIM ??? 🥺🥺🥺#WAAAHHH he feels SO BAD KAHGFKAHGKAH #and him setting boundaries HOW CUTE I'M KISSING HIM !!!! KISSING HIM !!!#so tempted to create love island kiri tag and name it 'bummer island' LMAOOOOO #✿ ask willow #✿ thoughts: kirishima #✿ theme: bummer island kiri

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