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missmaywemeetagain · 6 months

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Paisley Dreams (Part 2) 🏵💛🔥

Pretty sure there's only a small handful of you still reading my nonsense, but to those who are, thank you for your patience. Also, special thanks to those who kept me going after various blocks and meltdowns over finishing this (among other things). Would've thrown in the towel completely if it weren't for y'all. You know who you are and I love you. 💗💗💗 Anyway, sorry, this is probably a bit of a mess, but so am I... 😬

If you need a refresher, here's Paisley Dreams Part 1 🏵

TW: SEXXX, a little macho-possessive!elvis, the usual era appropriate female frustrations.

August 1970

If Pepper didn’t know any better, she would think she dreamt up the surreal encounter with Elvis that happened a few days ago. The only thing tethering the experience to reality is the yellow shirt he left her with, the one she’s a bit ashamed to say she’s been wearing to bed the past three nights, just so she can languish in his scent a little longer.

Of course, she hasn’t heard from him. It would be absurd if she had, or at least she keeps reminding herself of that when she finds herself spacing out during the slow moments at the diner or when taking off her stage makeup after the show. Elvis Presley is a busy man, and it’s likely he hadn’t given her a single thought since he left her pining and wanting in her drab little apartment.

Sure, he’d been good in the moment in making her feel special, and she can’t help thinking about all the little vulnerable snippets of him he showed her, all the strange things they seem to have in common…

Stop it. This is stupid. I’m never gonna see the man again.

It’s been a mantra in her head for days now, but unfortunately her touch-starved body hasn’t gotten the memo. If she had any sense, she’d drop her delusional fantasies and move on with her monotonous life.

“Hey, Pepper! Some guy is here to see you. Says it’s urgent,” Paul, the show’s stage manager, tells her briskly as she put the final touches on her face.

With no clue who it might be, a tightening in her belly warns it could be another overzealous “fan” like the one who caught her out the other night. But Paul is skilled at getting rid of the creeps, so it leaves her wondering as she makes her way backstage to the green room.

“Oh, thank God,” the short man sighs with palpable relief when she walks through the doorway. He looks incredibly familiar.

“Who…wait. Charlie?” she gasps in surprise. “What—what are you doing here?”

The man looks so glad to see her it takes her aback. “You are a hard woman to track down. Aren’t you ever home?”

“I…uh, I work two jobs, so not really,” she finds herself explaining. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here?”

“Well, the boss wants to see ya tonight, needs ya to come to his show,” he says, pushing a large white box into her arms.

“The boss?” she asks, confused. He can’t possibly mean who she thinks he does.

“Elvis. Elvis wants you at his show tonight, so here I am to get you there. And that’s for you, to wear,” Charlie says with a knowing smile.

Pepper thinks that maybe exhaustion has caught up with her because there is no way this is real. She laughs a little, a giddy feeling pulsing through her veins, until the cold wash of reality douses her.

“That’s nice, but I have a show of my own to do, Charlie,” she says, sweeping a hand over her revealing costume. Her heart sinks and she’s a little angry Elvis presumed she could drop everything to be at his beck and call. “Thank Elvis for the invitation but remind him I really can’t afford to lose this job.” She hands the white box back to Charlie, unopened.

He sputters a little with panic. It makes sense—most women probably bend over backwards to accommodate a man like Elvis, but she has other things to worry about. And Elvis knows this, which makes her even more irritated.

“But…but he really wants you there, Pepper,” Charlie says in a futile attempt to persuade her. “He’ll be mighty disappointed if you don’t come.”

Her heart kerthunks at the suggestion Elvis has been thinking about her at all, much less for him to be disappointed by her absence, but it doesn’t quell the anger starting to build in her chest.

“Well, I’m sorry for that, but it’s too short of notice and I have a show to do. Tell your boss it would be good for him not to make assumptions.”

Charlie looks like she’s slapped him. She almost feels bad for him because she gets the impression, as wonderful as Elvis was with her the other night, he is not a man who likes to be told “no.”

“I need to be on stage soon. Bye, Charlie,” she says, fighting the urge to cry both with irritation and disappointment. She can’t afford to ruin her makeup this close to showtime and walks out before she can change her mind.

The smile she plasters across her face during the dinner show covers her aching discontent. She’s almost glad for the distraction—it takes her mind off the fact she’ll likely never hear from Elvis again. There is certainly no reason for a man like him to chase a woman like her, especially when she’s rejected him.

Lost in her dismal thoughts, she doesn’t hear Paul when he comes up behind her after the show. She jumps out of her skin when he touches her shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Pepper, but you’ve got someone important on the phone for you,” Paul says, looking at her a little incredulously with a quirked brow, “and that little guy is back.”

What?

She makes her way back to the green room for the second time tonight, a racehorse running laps in her heart as she huffs down the hallway in her heels.

Charlie’s eyes brighten when they see her and he says nothing; he just holds out the phone receiver towards her. Trepidation makes her shake when she grabs it because as much as she wants to deny it, there’s no doubt who it could be.

“Hello?” she squeaks out, then races to clear her throat and relax her voice. “Who is this?”

“Peppercorn, you best be gettin’ that cute lil’ butt of yours down here, ‘fore I gotta come getchu myself,” Elvis familiar drawl growls commandingly in her ear.

It’s unfair the way it makes her toes curl and her thighs tighten, especially when a certain sense of fury at his orders slices through her arousal. If any other man talked like this to her, she’d hang up on him, but Elvis Presley is not just any other man.

“Well, hello to you, too, Elvis,” she says with ire. “I told you, I have my own shows and I can’t just up and leave on a whim.”

“Don’tchu worry about none of that, darlin’. I’ll take care of everything,” he says so smoothly it almost covers the impatience in his tone.

“What does that even mean?”

He sighs on the other end. “Honey, money ain’t an issue. I’ll give you more money than they’d pay you tonight to come to my show.”

The force of his words hits her square in the chest, her hand tightening around the phone. “And what about when they fire me for leaving without notice, hmm? You just gonna pay for my bills from now on? I’m not a whore, Elvis Presley. And I don’t want your damn money.”

That stubborn streak her mama always took her to task for has her seeing red, but somehow she has enough sense not to hang up on him directly. Instead, she just thrusts the phone into Charlie’s hand and storms off, not listening to the crackling voice yelling through the receiver.

Oooh, the nerve of that man, she thinks, her blood boiling at his insinuations. He’d been so nice and thoughtful the other night, not this demanding cad offering to pay her like some hooker off the street. For a man like that, offering what he did, it is blaringly obvious that there would be strings attached to such an arrangement, and she isn’t going to be some kept woman.

The audacity of his actions and words has her raging the more she thinks about him. The late show barely takes her mind off it, the entire exchange sending waves of adrenaline through her blood every time it pops back into her mind. By the time she is back home, she’s exhausted but wired, upset that her daydreams about this man were just that—fantasies.

Pepper convinced herself he wasn’t like any other man—that he was sweet and kind and didn’t just want her for her body. What a joke.He may be rich and powerful, but he certainly made his intentions clear with his demands.

Once in bed, she doesn’t bother to stop the tears leaking from her eyes and dripping into the mattress. A sick feeling of regret churns in her stomach as her rage cools and she begins second guessing all her choices. How she managed to ruin her chances with Elvis.

Buck up, kiddo, he’s just a guy. A famous, talented, and ridiculously handsome one, maybe, but still just a man in the end. He doesn’t matter. Your family does. She may not have much, but at least she has her dignity.

Or so she hopes, a certain yellow paisley shirt clinging to her body when sleep finally takes her.

An incessant pounding rouses Pepper from a fitful slumber. At first, she thinks it might be a whopper of a headache she’d felt coming on after last night’s events, but as she forces her gritty eyes open, she realizes it’s not that at all.

Someone is pounding on her front door.

Adrenaline kickstarts her body, despite the sleep that tries to reclaim her, and a quick look at the alarm clock on her nightstand shows it’s not quite four in the morning. She is cautious and more than a little scared as she slips her too flimsy robe on over her nightgown, pattering through the apartment with bare feet. Approaching the door with an element of stealth, which seems awfully stupid when she thinks about it, she peeks through the peephole, praying it’s not some drugged out creep looking for a good time or a maniac she needs to call the cops on.

But there is no mistaking the shock of black hair and the purple tinted sunglasses of the man causing such a racket on the other side of the wood. Her stomach drops and her heart flips.

You’ve got to be kidding me. She takes a shaky breath and opens the door before he can continue his barrage.

Elvis starts a bit when the door opens suddenly, his shoulders squaring and spine straightening. For a second, he almost looks self-conscious about his behavior, but it is gone and replaced with a narrow-eyed glare before she can dwell on it.

“You gonna let me in, sweetheart, or are we gonna do this out in the open for everyone to see?” he drawls, but it has a cutting edge to it she doesn’t recognize from their first meeting.

Now that he’s here in front of her, her earlier stubbornness is hard to locate behind the butterflies in her stomach and the sudden apprehension she feels about him being here again. He sucks all the air out of the room after she wordlessly opens the door further to let him stride through.

Pepper pulls her robe tight across her body, trying to cover herself as though he hadn’t already seen her bare, as if he hadn’t knelt in front of her to dress her in that dark alley. The thought, along with the waft of his cologne as he passes by her, makes her knees weak.

“Wha—what’re you doing here, Elvis?” she asks, the words sticking in her mouth with sleep and confusion as she flips on the lamp near the couch.

She realizes the mistake the moment it happens. Now she can truly see him in all his glory—his post-show glow giving him an other-worldly quality she didn’t know was possible. His tan skin and lustrous dark hair are indulgent to her senses and it’s almost painful how endless his sapphire eyes are when he takes off his tinted glasses and rakes those eyes over her body.

It sends a shiver right down to her toes.

“Peppercorn, you’re one helluva stubborn little girl,” he says huskily, pointing a long finger at her, “makin’ me come all the way down ‘ere to talk some damn sense into ya.”

It’s piercing and heated the way he says it and she feels somewhere between a scolded child and a wounded lover, neither of which fits the strange (non-)relationship she has with him, but she feels it all the same. Logic tells her he has no right to come in here like this, but the fact that he’s here at all, looking ethereal like some sort of angry god, has all logic flying out the window.

Digging her toes into the wood floor to keep herself grounded, she finally finds her voice again, “Excuse me?”

“And all this nonsense ‘bout ya being some kinda ‘whore’,” he barrels on, “and I ain’t never said no such thing, would never say such a thing aboutcha.” The vehemence with which he says it makes it sound likeshe was the one who offended him and not the other way around.

Pepper is confused for a second because of this, as her first instinct is to apologize to make him feel better, but then she remembers why she was mad in the first place.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t offer to pay me to spend time with you and be there to satisfy your every whim, I wouldn’t think that’s what you meant,” she says quietly, her voice shaking only slightly, as she throws it back at him.

His eyes flash and narrow while his cheeks redden underneath his tan. The divot in his jaw ticks with tension, and for a split second she regrets her words.

She can’t for the life of her understand why he cares and has gone to all this trouble and seems so upset. She’s nobody of consequence, and God knows any number of women are lined up at the ready for him if he wants company. And yet he’s here.

This doesn’t help the way her heart knocks against her ribcage, though, and she squeezes her hands tight to try and control her rapid breathing.

“Don’t go puttin’ words in my mouth, lil girl,” he growls, stepping towards her, backing her into the wall. Only the tiniest part of her is frightened despite his size and anger because his proximity and intensity ignite something molten in her veins. Her mouth parts but the quippy reply dies on her lips.

“Why don’tcha wanna come to my show?” There’s an element of hurt in his voice that surprises her, and it tugs at her heartstrings. He looks down at her and it nearly causes her knees to buckle. “I-I-I jus’ thought—”

“I would love to come. It breaks my heart that I can’t,” she whispers mournfully, the words popping out before you can think better of them.

An impish little smile plays at his lips. “It does, does it?”

Pepper can’t help but roll her eyes, tilting her chin to the side, mostly to avoid being swallowed up by those churning eyes of his. “Of course.”

“Then why you gotta be so stubborn, baby?” he replies, gently scolding her. His slender pointer finger grazes her jaw, then turns her chin back towards him.

She hopes he doesn’t feel the way she shudders from the contact. It’s embarrassing enough that she can’t seem to hold her ground with him in front of her like this. That she’s melting at his slightest touch. She struggles to get the words out, feeling heady with the heat of him so close.

“I don’t…it’s important for me to be able to take care of myself. I’ve had to for a long time. And you don’t need to give me anything for me to want to come see or spend time with you—you shouldn’t have to. Besides,” she adds quietly, looking down, “I’m not really the kind of girl who…um…takes advantage of things like that. So, as much as I want to, I can’t—"

The rest is swallowed before it can come out by the sweet softness of his plush lips pressing against her own. She gasps in surprise, but that, too, is consumed by his mouth. His hands cup her face, tilting it up towards his and Pepper flails for a moment in confusion until the gentle insistence of his kiss subdues her completely.

Warmth spreads through her limbs, followed by electric tingles which bounce around her stomach and suck the breath out of her lungs. Her hands land on his chest, feeling heat and dampness from sweat, his heart thrumming underneath her palm. It’s faster than she expects and in disbelief, she wonders if it’s because of her.

When he pulls away, lashes fluttering up to meet her gaze, it’s as if a rocket implodes inside her chest. She’s a goner—if she’s honest with herself, she has been since the moment he defended her in the alley—and she knows it’s a bad place to be with a man like Elvis. She struggles valiantly against her baser instincts.

“Wh-why did you do that?” she chokes out, still confused about the fact that Elvis Presley just kissed her.

His eyes go dark. “Did ya not like it?” he asks, concerned.

“N-No, no, it isn’t…it was lovely, I just—I mean, why me?” She looks up at him with earnest eyes.

Relief spreads across his face and he runs his knuckles over her cheek. “Honey, you are the realest person I’ve met in this godforsaken town—hell, anywhere, as a matter of fact—a-an’ the only one who ain’t asked o-o-or expected a damn thing from me in a long time. You jus’…understand.”

Surprisingly, she does.

“Now, with that said, I like ta—" His head comes down, pressing the sweaty warmth of his forehead against hers. “—give gifts and help those I care about.” He nuzzles his nose into hers. “You gonna let me help you, Peppercorn?” he whispers against her cheek.

Her mouth parts by its own accord as her insides go gooey, and those soft lips devour hers again before she can reply. Fisting the lapels of his jacket in her hands, she barely recognizes the moan that escapes her as being her own.

He pulls away slightly, pressing kisses into her jaw and down her neck. It’s utterly intoxicating.

“Elvis…” is all she’s able to groan out. He’s an assault to her senses in the best way, causing every nerve ending to go into overdrive, logic and caution be dammed.

“Gonna be good f’me?” he rasps, lightly brushing the backs of his fingers down over her breast. She gasps and her nipple pebbles hard in response under the silky friction of the fabric of his yellow shirt. Back arching, her body seeks more of him.

He hums, pulling her up into a blistering kiss that sets her on fire. Mind wiped clean, she leans into his touch when he palms the underside of her breast.

“Thought you was mad at me and here ya are wearin’ my shirt to bed,” he drawls with a knowing smirk, his finger toying with the top button. “Now why would ya do a thing like that, huh, darlin’?”

“I…” she says breathlessly but stops when she has no defense. Her cheeks turn fire-engine red, both from being caught out and from the fact he is much too deftly popping the first button, which due to the size of the shirt lies squarely between her cleavage, open. The fullness and heaving of her breasts push the fabric further apart.

“Hmm, I see,” he tuts. His finger traces its way down to work the second button. “Were ya dreamin’ about me, honey?”

Pepper whimpers and her thighs clutch together involuntarily at his whispered words, and he doesn’t miss this little tell, not by the little smirk on his face. The second button pops and the shirt falls open more.

He swoops her up against him for another kiss, his tongue swiping through her lips and rolling against hers. The rapidly-firming outline of his cock pressed against her belly is not lost on her, either.

“My lil’ Peppercorn, thinkin’ she’s gotta be all rough and tough all by her lonesome,” he murmurs as he makes quick work of the other buttons, his fingers grazing the bare skin of her abdomen. She trembles at his touch. “Don’t gotta worry no more, baby, I gotcha,” he purrs. In any other situation, she might find it condescending, this way he’s taking her to task for being cautious and independent, but she can’t quite bring herself to care so much anymore.

Elvis steps back a little, those shining blue eyes flaring a bit when he gets a look at her in her simple white cotton panties. He looks almost gleeful which banishes her self-consciousness at not wearing something sexier to bed. God knows the last thing she expected last night after she showered was Elvis Presley admiring her choice of underwear.

“Lemme take care of ya?” he asks dreamily, and the words go straight to her core, tingling her swelling lower lips in anticipation of what she hopes he is going to do to her.

All she can manage is a low whine of consent, nodding her head furiously just in case it isn’t clear how badly she needs him to touch her.

Elvis smiles and flits his fingers over the cotton covering her mound. The slightest brush of his finger against her clit sends her spasming like a live wire. It’s embarrassing, yet by the boyish dimple in his cheek, she reckons he’s pleased as punch.

“You been touched like this before, baby?” he asks quietly, circling over her so lightly she feels she might explode from want.

Blinking rapidly, she tries to focus enough to reply. “N-not in a long w-while,” she admits, relishing the sensation of him brushing over the soaked center of her underwear. She can’t help the roll of her hips towards his hand, desperate for more.

“Mmm,” he tuts, nodding to himself. Thankfully, he obliges her by pressing slightly upwards, pushing his panty covered finger up into her hole just a little, the palm of his hand putting pressure on her sensitive clit.

He only gives her a second of this, just long enough for her to gasp out, before he’s moving along. Her knees threaten to buckle and she whines. Then his mouth his on hers again, inhaling her exhale as he kisses her into complete submission.

Pepper loses track of how long they kiss, only that her lips are swollen and that she aches for him with every fiber of her being. The rhythm of his mouth is hypnotic and when he slides his hand down the front of her, into her damp curls, and finally gives attention to the place she wants him most, she cries out in pleasure.

Her legs falling open, he takes the cue and teases the hood of her sex. Nothing has prepared her for this—not her imagination nor her few previous experiences with men could ever match up to the blinding arousal she’s feeling right now.

Surprising her, he bends down, continuing his kisses down her chest, over the rise of her breasts and down her stomach. When he kneels in front of her, a waft of déjà vu comes over her, except this time he is undressing her instead, making the entire scene so erotic with his kiss-swollen lips and bedroom eyes and his hair falling in his face that she feels a needy, throbbing desire between her legs.

His tongue traces her belly button, distracting her from the fact he’s pulling her ruined underwear down her legs to puddle at her feet. It’s not until his lips are pressing into her mound that she realizes his intentions.

“Oh!” Her eyes flying open, she squirms a little in panic—she’s never had a man kiss her down there, and sure as hell didn’t consider that Elvis would want to do such a thing, but there he his, looking up at her, one eyebrow cocked. His eyes don’t leave hers as he swirls that tongue of his around her bud.

“Oh—omigod,” she cries, breath hitching. Her body goes into overdrive at all the new sensations, and he just smiles against her, snacking and lapping away at her, as happy as can be. The surreal nature of it all has her questioning her sanity, but the fleeting thought is quickly overwhelmed by the coil rapidly tightening in her belly. She hurtles towards an orgasm she’s not entirely ready for because she desperately doesn’t want this pleasure to end. Mewling and begging, it only takes one slender finger sliding up into her snatch coupled with the delicious, tongued assault on her clit to send her catapulting over the edge.

Her body tenses, then shudders violently against him as a silent scream catches in her throat. The heat rushing over her has nothing on any climax she’s ever had before which becomes evident in the way her legs shake and threaten to give way completely. Thankfully, Elvis holds her steady by the backs of her thighs, not letting her slump down to the floor like a sack of potatoes as her body relaxes. She can barely breathe for the way he licks her through the end of it, his enjoyment of her arousal obviously not just for her benefit.

Pepper vaguely registers her soft moans and her shivering limbs as she comes back into herself. Her head clonks back into the wall while she tries to get ahold of senses. She can’t seem to come down, though, not with this gorgeous man prostrated at her feet, enjoying her as though she were water in the desert.

Everything goes blank, everything but him.

Then he’s upright again, pressing his body into her, into the wall, his head nuzzling the soft spot under her ear. “Ya like that, honey? That okay?”

If she were more cognizant, she might think more on how he seems almost unsure of his abilities, but as it is, she barely manages a nod.

“S’wonderful,” she slurs, though she’s completely sober.

He smiles against her neck, chin sticky with her arousal. She doesn’t care. At this moment, all she wants is to be consumed by him, crushed by him, taken care of by him. All earlier arguments are forgotten, especially when he ruts against her bare leg, his erection hard and seeking.

“Can I, darlin’?” he whispers imploringly with a punctuated roll of his hips. “Hims need her bad.”

She wants to giggle at the cuteness of his baby talk and at the gallantry of his asking rather than taking—as if she would deny him—so instead she just nods yet again, pulling at the confines of his suit jacket.

In a near-frantic battle with his elaborate outfit, his belt finally clanks to the floor along with his pants and discarded jacket. When his cock springs free, unencumbered due to the lack of underwear, she is almost shocked, but is too distracted by what seems to be a wholly perfect representation of the male form.

It makes her look him up and down with an awed and heated gaze, somewhat disbelieving this otherworldly man wants her. By its own accord, her hand palms the heavy heat of him, sending a thrill though her when he groans out her name.

Needy and already dripping from the slit in his angry pink tip, he thrusts his cock into her hand. “Please, baby,” he breathes and all at once she realizes he is as desperate to have her as she is to have him.

She’s never fucked standing before and if she were in her right mind might be a little concerned about the mechanics of such a thing, but nature has a way of prevailing and without much to-do, Elvis lifts her long legs around his waist and braces her against the wall.

They both groan as he enters her. She’s more than wet, but his size and her lack of recent experience creates a stretching burn, nevertheless. It makes her hiss and bite down on her lip and being the observant lover he has turned out to be, he freezes partway in.

“You okay?” he asks, worried, and she nods emphatically because no, she doesn’t want him to stop but yes, it has been awhile since a man traversed this part of her. The bite of her nails on his shoulders is enough to remind him to go slow, despite the desire to fuck each other into oblivion.

With the utmost patience he works his way in with shallow, gentle thrusts as she coats him with her slick and relaxes enough to let him burrow deeper. The tight fit is delicious on his cock, which he makes note of in a string of murmured baby talk praises in her ear of what a good girlshe is and how tight she feels and how he’d just make a home in her pretty lil’ beaver forever if he could.

All this has her tingling and radiating warmth from the inside out and she begins to roll her hips to let him know she’s ready. It’s not long then before he’s nestled deep inside, his sweaty forehead pressed to hers before kissing her deeply. She tastes the tang of herself on his tongue, something that shouldn’t make her moan into his mouth, but she does, clinging to his shoulders as he finally begins to move in earnest.

And consumed by him she is—by his smell, his taste, the hard and soft planes of his body sliding against her own so deftly, thoroughly slotted as if made for each other. His rings cut into the bottom of her thigh as he grips her there in such a way that suggests he thinks she might float away and disappear without him there to anchor her.

He might very well be right.

Boldly, she meets his increasingly deep and pointed thrusts with the snap of her hips, as best she can at least, considering her lack of leverage. She chases him and he her, like some sort of erotic ouroboros eating its own tail. There is nothing but him and her and the joined chorus of breath in their near-frantic lovemaking.

Pepper has never come twice in a row with a man, not ever, yet as he plunders her just the right way in all the right spots, the telltale signs of that tension in her core spring to life again. He’s skilled in making her body sing, considering he barely knows her—or perhaps he knows her better than anyone else in his gilded town. Regardless, he coaxes her back to the edge with him with the softness of his lips and the scrape of his teeth and the caress of his fingers and hands in her most intimate places.

Skilled but sweet. Confident but desperate. The dichotomy of this man confounds her. Her back scrapes against the wall in time with the piston of his perfect hips, and the music of his soft moans has her near orgasm once again.

The build is slower this time and she relishes in every sensation, trying to commit them to memory. When she finally shatters around him at the crest of it all, Elvis shudders with a low groan and thrusts impossibly deep before pulsing hard, filling her with cum.

They collapse in on each other then, a panting silence filling the space around them. His breath is wet and heavy in the crook of her neck. She mindlessly runs her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, which is damp with sweat.

Oh, she’s in deep trouble with this one and she knows it. Part of her wants nothing more to stay like this forever, back scraping against the plaster, collapsed in a satisfied heap in Elvis’ arms.

A pleased hum comes from him, vibrating her sensitive skin, as he nestles deeper into her, despite the softening of his penis. It is needy and cuddly and unexpected based on the way he barged in earlier. But he continues to hold her tight, and she is powerless to deny him such a comfort.

She doesn’t want to.

“Come back with me, honey,” he whispers into the shell of her ear, causing her skin to pebble. “Please.”

Pepper wants to cry at the vulnerable way he says it and how it leaves her feeling so special because it seems to prove this was not just an angry, possessive fuck from a man who always gets what he wants. No, it feels charmingly sweet and melts her heart and body in all the right ways. It would be so easy to go, so tempting to fall into his arms again and again.

But things have never been easy for her and her damn pragmatic mind won’t let it rest why he showed up here in the first place.

“I—I can’t leave my jobs,” she whispers, her fingers carting through his dark hair by their own accord as his lips tackle her pulse point. She feels him smile against her skin, an action which shoots straight into her core, as if he hadn’t left her sated twice already.

“Well, I thought ya might say that, but it jus’ so happens the Hilton has a book-keeping openin’, if ya want it,” he says dreamily.

It takes a moment for her post-coital brain to make sense of what he’s saying. She pulls back.

“Wait. Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he replies, forcing his pleased grin into a serious scowl.

Her heart pounds even more than it did when his lips were on her. She knows jobs like this are hard for people like her to come by. Most casinos don’t want to take a chance on a showgirl doing their books.

This could change everything for her.

“I…but I don’t have much experience and they’ll never—” she babbles, sending herself into a panic.

“Baby,” he shushes, finally removing himself from her and setting her down gently, “you’ve already got the job.” He smooths her hair, lulling her into relaxing.

She shakes her head in disbelief. Part of her wants to balk against the kindness, telling her she didn’t earn it for herself. Elvis gleans this, however.

“Let me help you, darlin’,” he coos at her, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Please. Let someone else take care of ya for once.”

Tears spring to her eyes. She can’t help it. The rollercoaster of the last few days has left her raw.

“You didn’t have to—it’s too much,” she sniffles, blinking back the tears.

“Wasn’t nothin’, baby. And you’ll be great, workin’ with all those numbers,” he says, rubbing the pad of his thumb across her cheek. “And, it ain’t entirely selfless,” he muses, “considerin’ you’ll be workin’ in the same place as me and they don’t need you to start for a couple weeks. Those hours give you plenty of time to come see me. To be with me.”

She can’t help but chuckle at that. “But I have to—”

“Good thing about that signing bonus, too. Means ya won’t have to worry ‘bout leavin’ those other jobs of yours,” he says nonchalantly.

“I’m sure you had nothing to do with that,” she says, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Nope, no siree.” His eyes twinkle at her.

Her guarded incredulousness disintegrates when she realizes he listened to her. Despite the misguided way he went about it, he figured out her need to be self-sufficient, solved the problem holding her back from him, and managed to get her a job she could barely dream of a few days ago.

It’s infuriating to her head-strong nature that he’s so deftly wheedled around all the obstacles and that she wants nothing more than to be in his arms and hear his vulnerability and go to his damn shows.

“Whadya say, Peppercorn? Will ya come be with me?” He says it with only the slightest tremor of doubt, those soulful eyes of his searching hers, dredging up feelings she knows will likely bite her in the ass later.

Finally, she takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine,” she tries to say with a hint of frustration, but she’s unable to keep her hopeful smile from raising the corners of her mouth.

The dimple carved out beneath his apple cheeks makes it all worth it and sends a shower of tingles through her body. He swoops her up in his arms, kissing her deeply and hugging her so tight she can barely draw breath.

Suffocated by Elvis Presley’s kisses wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, she thinks humorously as he takes her breath away.

“I should go clean up and pack some things,” she pants when they finally tear themselves away from each other.

He nods, looking mussed and blissful, his bedroom eyes heavy as though the night’s events have finally all caught up to him. Holding her hand until the last possible second, she’s near convinced that he’s about ready to fall asleep standing up.

She’s halfway down the hall when he calls out to her, voice husky. “Hey, honey.”

Pepper turns back to look at him.

“Bring the shirt,” Elvis says, his dark brow quirking suggestively, “I like it on ya.”

He gives her an idea, a bold one she acts on before she can think too much on it. “Bet you’d like it off me even more,” she says, sliding the already open shirt off her shoulders. It falls in a soft heap around her feet.

His eyes go wide and take in her bare form from head to toe. “Damn, woman, I think ya might be right.”

And with a growl, he charges her, sending her into shrieking giggles as she flees into her room. Tapping some hidden reserve of energy, he lifts her and throws her on her unmade bed, and then climbs in on top of her, showering her with kisses everywhere.

Loving the way his long body presses her into the sheets, she feels utterly content for once in her life to let loose a little and live in the present without a care in the world.

“Gonna take care of ya,” he whispers, running his hand reverently over her naked curves.

And she knows he will.

(If you want to get stories like this early, come join my Patreon) 💗

Taglist Pt 1

@eliseinmemphis@russian-soft-bitch@tattywood

@sassanoe@thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle@carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23

@littlebitofgreen@paigevis@bugg06@xhannahbananax03@artlover8992

@18lkpeters@frozenhuntress67@girlblogger2002@kendralavon7@misspresley

@be-my-ally @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @powerofelvis @from-memphis-with-love

@precious-lil-scoundrel @stylespresleyhearted @prompted-wordsmith @crash-and-cure @elvisgf @lookingforrainbows @fic-over-cannon @godlypresley @ab4eva @whatstruthgottodowithit @elvisabutler @amydarcimarie@idontwanttoputanything @callieselvisobsessed @captainamerica1235-blog @xenaspace3-blog

@simplyamberj@claire-elvisgirl@everythingelvispresley@louisejoy86@deniseinmn @madelynpresley

#paisley dreams #paisley dreams part 2 #elvis smut #elvis presley #elvis #elvis x oc #elvis x peppercorn #elvis presley fanfic #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #elvis imagine #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fic #elvis 1970 #las vegas #showgirl

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crystal-cliffs · 1 day

Text

Arlecchino’s story quest was a solid 8/10 for me

However there’s still one thing I’m not sure about, spoilers beyond this point.

The fight between Arlecchino and the siblings isn’t an unheard of dynamic, it’s been used in shows like Avatar in the episode Sokka’s Master, the mentor seeming to turn on their apprentice to test them of their skills.

However unlike Avatar, Arlecchino was violent. (it had to be convincing ofc) She seriously harmed all three of the siblings, hell, Freminet mentions being bedridden for two days. Im not against this characterization of her, someone who thinks the ends justify the means as long as they get from point A to point B. She can essentially turn her emotions off to get things done since obviously she cares about the children, we’ve established this multiple times, but she also probably considers this “fight for freedom” caring about them as well since it could be worst, she could actually execute them. Which is all sorts of fucked up but I mean, I’m glad they’re letting her do something fucked up again.

Im also not opposed to the siblings characterization of how they still appreciate her anyways (for the most part, still some stuff that makes me feel off), its all they’ve know, and theyve decided for themselves that they understand and are willing to work past it, hell i guess forgive her. It makes sense for people like them.

However that doesn’t feel like a happy ending like the game might be trying to sell it as. Its sad. Lyney mentions it himself, they don’t know how a real family functions, this is all they’ve known and they certainly aren’t willing to lose it.

I don’t mind how they chose to end things. It’s just i definitely got a more solemn energy than happy even though what Lynette was saying seemed like that’s what they were going for.

Arlecchino’s story quest isn’t happy. Arlecchino is a product of her environment that cannot ever go back to the way she once was, if that person even ever existed. The siblings were seriously harmed in a fight and then seriously thought Arlecchino was about to kill their family, and that’s not okay. Then right after Lyney is back to normal and talking to Arlecchino as if nothing happened. I don’t know about you but family or not I’d be shaken up for awhile if I thought my dad was about to kill the rest of my family in front of me, idk that’s just me.

Again, I don’t have a problem with Arlecchino, they might not even be trying to frame her actions positively, but the way the siblings just return to normal makes it feel like they might be… like “oh it’s okay you did that, we want to stay <3” which just signals the audience that it’s time to forgive her

I didn’t want the siblings to forget, because that’s just boring, but idk it bothered me that he just brushed it off as if it was nothing. Maybe that’s just a product of their violent environment? Or maybe I’m just making excuses for poor character writing.

That’s all, my thoughts are all incredibly jumbled and I can’t quite string them together right😅

I might have something more cohesive later

#again my thoughts are jumbled and maybe I’m complete incorrect #it just felt off to me did it feel off to anyone else?#Arlecchino #genshin impact #arlecchino genshin impact #˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊crystal talks

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callimaria · 1 year

Text

getting into the holiday spirit except these guys don’t know how to wrap gifts

characters: deuce s., riddle r.

warnings: none, just pining BUT ALSO they get kisses, smooches even

as the holiday season approaches, crowley appears to be more ‘generous’—as if he would ever be—claiming that the holidays just soften him up.

of course, that meant an actual, decent amount of money you and grim have ever laid your eyes upon, and you went out of your way to get your friends presents…

and now one of them has decided to help you wrap them all. (which is, frankly, quite a lot.)

deuce:

your hands meticulously go to work, creasing and flattening and folding; you wrapped a little wooden box—it had roses and hedgehogs painted onto it, a gift for riddle—so efficiently, deuce paused from his own gift to stare at you in awe.

his cheeks were slightly flushed, either from the sudden pick up of wind outside, ramshackle was horrible at keeping heat in and cold out; or due to his (previously) nonexistent skills in wrapping presents. honestly, you couldn’t tell.

“woah,” he lets out, completely awestruck by your deft hands, his work-in-progress left forgotten.

after mumbling your name, he quietly asks,

“how can you do this so well?”

you look up, pushing the box aside.

“do what?”

“the.. the, uh, wrapping,” he says, eyes locking onto anything but you.

he felt awfully shy, considering he admired you a lot—his mom was both happy and concerned about the amount of messages and letters she’s received talking about you alone—and he was grateful ace wasn’t here to notice his attitude.

“oh!” a little smile slips onto your face, “it took a lot of effort a while ago, my hands were either too clumsy or too fast, and i lost track of what i was doing—i ended up with a lot of.. mistakes…”

you trail off, eyes focusing on the almost-finished present besides deuce.

“yours looks really good, deuce,” you compliment, happy he had improved in such a short time. there were only a few mistakes, but you pushed those aside.

he both brightens and stiffens up, cheeks going even pinker as he gives you a wobbly smile.

“t-thank you! i’m glad th—“

you cut him off by scooting over, brushing his hair out of the way; and you kiss his forehead.

“good job.”

he sat there, flabbergasted, losing all sense of what he once was; now he was the equivalent to a gaping fish.

“y.. yes, thanks.. prefect..” his cheeks burned, hand brushing over his forehead. you were amazing.

💗

riddle:

as the proud, respectful, and diligent housewarden of heartslabyul, it was simply a must that he assist the lone ramshackle prefect in their duty..

duty… of wrapping gifts? on one hand, he knew he lacked the experience to properly help, but he would rather sit and learn (and spend more time with you) than call in someone as a substitute. that’s what ran through his thoughts—that it was logical to stay—but deep inside? he just wanted to be with you, as time is precious. (like you.)

he furrowed his eyebrows as he unfolded, folded and re-creased an edge over and over again, trying to perfect the last corner of a wrapped box. (he was pointedly ignoring that it was addressed to floyd.) he was so consumed in his efforts that he didn’t notice you leaning over his shoulder, marveling at how neat he was.

“wow, you’ve learned well, riddle,” you noted, looking back at your own pile of finished presents. they were a bit messy, but you didn’t get paid enough to be perfect, anyways.

he flinched.

“have i? ..well, it’s good i’ve learned the material; now it’s just proper execution, prefect, and i haven’t quite mastered it yet, though—though i will..” despite brushing off the compliment, he couldn’t hide how he was already starting to turn pink, some steps away from going red.

“master it? really? i would’ve thought you already did it, your gifts look perfect! super amazing, riddle, take a step back and look sometimes.”

he was red, not like a tomato just yet, but he could feel his heartbeat loudly trying to deny the affirmations slipping from your mouth; he clutched onto something, but if the tape dispenser he was holding were to be alive, it’d be crying from the amount of pressure it was under.

“i.. well, i—i…”

“seriously! and honestly, you’d get a reward, but your present’s already been wrapped, so i just have…”

you grip his shoulders, turning him around to face you. taking hold of his hand, you kiss it softly, looking back up.

“..that; i wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with things like forehead kis—“

“off—OFF WITH—“

“w-wait, wait, riddle?! RIDDLE—“

he liked it. (?)

MERRY EARLY CHRISTMAS 🎄 w two of ur fav heartslabyul boys fr

also deuce is totally considering marriage in that last line ;;;;;;:::; hint hint wink wink

(tbh he seems like that one incorrect scenario where someone goes to propose and the other’s like, “oh! you’re finally propoisng” and the proposer’s like ?? how did u know??? when in reality theyve dropled the ring so many times that the other even picked it up once)

abyways w riddle…. congratulations on being collared during the holiday season

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fluff #twst #twst deuce x reader #twst riddle x reader #deuce spade x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #deuce spade x yuu #riddle rosehearts x yuu #twst x yuu

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transandersrights · 10 months

Note

Happy Friday! How about 'swimming' for Anders?

(I take prompts! See info here)

Ty for the prompt!! I wrote ~600 words of Anders & Isabela fluff for @dadrunkwriting

“You’re better at this than I expected.” Isabela, even more of a show-off once you got her in the water, flipped onto her back to cast a glance back at the others, still in the shallower waters a way back.

“What, you think mages can’t swim?”

Isabela didn’t need to roll her eyes when she looked at him; though if she had, Anders might have missed the fondness that went along with the exasperation in her expression. “I didn’t say or imply that. I meant that you don’t get out much.”

“It’s a valuable skill,” Anders noted. “I’ve been on my fair share of ships. That and the flooded Deeproads tunnels, the river next to the farm, the huge lake I spent half my life trying to cross… I’ve had some practice.”

He didn’t need to prove his point, but he ducked under the water for a moment anyway, flipping all the way over so only his feet popped out over the surface. Through the muffling of the water, Isabela laughed. Then tugged one of his toes, naturally.

When he surfaced, Isabela pouted at him. “Stop, the others might get ideas.” Anders glanced back at them; they were still on the approach, Hawke egging on a surprisingly reluctant Aveline. He wouldn’t have taken her for a poor swimmer, but maybe it came with the territory of hating fun.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t let anyone drown.” Not that they were in too much danger here, where the currents weren’t half as strong as they were right by the city, but Isabela had promised with all her heart to a hesitant Merrill who’d never swum in the sea before.

“Well, they won’t if they don’t stick their heads under on purpose,” Isabela shot back, darting forward to tug at a damp strand of Anders’ hair. Oops, his tie had come out somewhere. “You think Varric wouldn’t lose all his sense of balance the moment he tried something like that?”

Anders snorted. “Varric wouldn’t even try. He’s too smart for that.” That, and Isabela had banned day drinking for this particular outing. ‘If I’m going to be babysitting you all in the water, I’m not introducing any idiocy,’ or something like that.

Even Hawke-typical antics were as safe as they could get, though — Anders had plenty of experience emptying someone’s lungs of water after the ten-odd cases this year alone of people falling off the docks. It helped Anders feel a little closer to relaxed, knowing that this wasn’t half as dangerous as it could be.

No; it was downright nice, honestly. He hadn’t been entirely on board when Hawke first suggested it, but now he was out in the water, he was glad. It was good to get away sometimes.

By the time the afternoon ended — or even before — he’d tire of the cool feeling of the water against his skin, the half-weightless feeling pressing around him. He’d want to be back in the city, knowing that every moment he was out here was a moment he wasn’t helping the people who needed it most. That was the way of his world, and Anders had long since accepted it.

But he looked to Isabela again, still regarding him with that knowing smile. He looked at his friends — his family, or as close as he’d ever get to that again — fooling around in the distance, getting the break they needed so deeply from all the trials of their day to day lives. Anders could look upon that and smile, knowing that even if he’d accepted his misery, others hadn’t, and sometimes when they opened the window he could climb out after them.

#anders #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age 2 #isabela dragon age #dragon age drunk writing circle

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leaderoffestivals · 2 years

Text

CROSS FIRE: Prologue

Tetora: Ah~! Taisho! I didn’t expect that you’d be waiting backstage! So glad that you made it!

You seem kinda depressed though… Did something happen?

Scenario Writer: Kino Seitarou (with Akira) Season: Last year / Spring Characters: Kiryu Kuro, Nagumo Tetora Proofed by: @ryuseipuka, Skyress

<Spring. One year before Ensemble Square was established.>

Kuro: Phew. Today’s match was an easy win, as usual.

The opponent lost his nerve and crumbled, to the point where he couldn’t make a move at all. As things stand, my record of victories in the Qualifying Rounds of the Dragon King Competition’s(1) been unbroken so far. Tetsu’s been goin’ about lookin’ absurdly delighted, thanks to that—

(It’s just that, am I really doin’ things the right way here? I just don’t know… …

I’ll never be able to write off my sins, but there’s still some meaning in workin’ together with Tetsu… … Heh. That’s what I’d like to think, anyway…

This is probably just some smug, conceited attempt at atonement, but—

—the thing is, I don’t have anythin’ else going fer me except brute strength. However, if usin’ it can give Tetsu a push on his back an’ help him regain his confidence (2), I want to do it if I can—)

… …Hm? What’s this, there’s an envelope on the bench over here. Did someone leave it behind? It’s addressed to “Kiryu Kuro-sama”… … Seriously? It’s addressed to me?

Did someone leave it here, anticipatin’ that I’d come up to the roof? Why would they have done it in such a troublesome way; they should’ve just given it to me straight… …

Hmmm. Let’s see what’s in it… …

[ Letter of Challenge: Three days from now, after school. A showdown in the Dragon King Competition. From: Mysterious Fighter ‘M’. ]

A letter of challenge… …? Yer a pretty old-fashioned bastard, aren’t ya… …

The next opponent’s supposed to be from some other group but—did he get cold feet and back out before facin’ me, and this ‘Mysterious Fighter M’ or whatchamacallhim’s replacin’ him as a substitute?

Ahh, whatever. Since yer lookin’ for a fight, I’ll give ya a fight.

Of course, I ain’t expectin’ to lose to ya either.

Tetora: Wa~! I’m late, I’m late, I’m SO late~!

Aaaaah~, SERIOUSLY~!? How in the world did I get stuck with doing day duty (3) on today of all days?

Not only is it the day of the Dragon King Competition, it’s the day of the all-important match between Taisho and Mysterious Fighter M… …! Surely there’s gotta be a limit to how much bad luck one can be having, right~!?

And that guy who sent a letter of challenge to Taisho like that; he’s either gotta be seriously sure of his skills or absolutely drunk! There’s no way I’m missing a match like that, of course—

… … Eh? What’s going on? Why’s the crowd making such a big uproar… …?

Is something happening on stage…? No, there’s no one up there right now. It hasn’t been all that long since the match started, right? U~myuu… Could it be that Taisho has gotten the time wrong~?

Or, could it be that the Student Council has issued an order forcing Taisho to withdraw from the match? If that’s what has happened, I can understand what that big fuss is about… …

The Dragon King Competition is technically an unofficial exhibition match, after all…

It wouldn’t matter that Taisho’s a member of AKATSUKI; the chances that the strict Hasumi-senpai’ll make us call it off can’t be zero (4)… …

Kuro: … … … …

Tetora: Ah~! Taisho! I didn’t expect that you’d be waiting backstage! So glad that you made it!

You seem kinda depressed though… Did something happen?

Since Taisho’s here now, if Mysterious Fighter M doesn’t show up, that’ll mean that you’ll have won today’s match by default, right?

That guy is so gutless to have cancelled the match at the last minute—and after issuing that letter of challenge too!—all because he knew he couldn’t win against Taisho. I’ll find out who he is and tell him off—

Kuro: No. That’s not what happened just now, Tetsu.

Tetora: … … Huh?

Kuro: Sorry, Tetsu. I’m takin’ a time-out to cool my head off.

Tetora: Eh… …? Wait a minute. What in the world went on during the match before I got here?

Kuro: Somethin’ I didn’t expect. I’ll explain some other time.

Tetora: O-Okay?

Kuro: … … See ya.

Tetora: Eh? Wait! Taisho, don’t go just yet!

At least tell me who that Mysterious Fighter M is! If you keep dodging questions so strangely, it’ll keep bothering me till I won’t be able to sleep at night!

Taisho! Please listen to what I’m saying! Taishoooo~!

—————-To be continued——————-

Chapter 1

Translator’s Notes:

Dragon King Competition or 龍王戦: Part of Yumenosaki’s dark past. The Dragon King Competition was originally classed as an official Live during the War Era. It was used as a tool by the Student Council (Eichi/Keito) to rack up points and gain influence in the school. Kuro’s strength was the key, since he would win against anyone else who came against him, as idols could physically attack each other on stage. After it had served its purpose of letting fine and AKATSUKI become the top 2 units in the school, its official classification was revoked.

Tetora’s self-confidence had taken a blow after his attempt to join AKATSUKI failed, becoming silent and depressed (Re: Four Beasts of Fist-Fighting). When he found out about the Dragon King Competition in a club ledger, he got excited on learning it was an event where the Karate Club had reigned supreme in. Not knowing about its short, extremely hated, violent past or Kuro’s role in it, he worked hard to revive it as an unofficial B1 Live, even acting as its emcee. Kuro went along with participating in it so that Tetora would have something to feel proud of again.

日直 (nichidai) or day duty. In Japan, students are rostered to complete classroom duties after lessons to foster a sense of responsibility and belonging to the class. Duties include: sweeping the floor, cleaning the board, maintaining the class ledger/diary, carrying books to the subject teachers, watering the plants, etc.

Keito disapproves of this Dragon King Competition revival very much.

I mistranslated a few lines. I originally translated it as Kuro being late, but it’s supposed to be Tetora who was late. Thank you, ciel, for the heads-up.

#ensemble stars #enstars tl #Kuro Kiryu #Nagumo Tetora #CROSS FIRE #AKATSUKI #MaM #Ryuseitai #UNDEAD #Eden #Eve

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duhragonball · 1 year

Text

Dragon Ball Super 124

FEATURING: LASERCAGE 2000™

Last time, Goku and Vegeta powered up to their ultimate forms. Goku went beyond Super Saiyan Blue to achieve Cherry Super Saiyan Blue, and Vegeta went beyond Super Saiyan Blue to Super Saiyan Blue (Blue). Those are the official names for those forms, I will not be accepting corrections.

Anyway, they fire off their finishing attacks at Jiren, but it does nothing. Jiren tries to talk smack, and Goku and Vegeta literally do not care about anything he says. I like this, because Jiren’s whole schtick is to be intimidating with as few words as possible. Like when he defeated Hit, he said “Do you know what the pride of an assassin is worth? Absolutely nothing!” Or words to that effect. It’s less trash-talk and more “Let me take a moment to explain why you never had a chance.”

When he started fighting Goku in #122, he asked Goku why he seeks greater strength, and Goku admitted he didn’t know, he just wants to get stronger. Jiren scoffed at this, and said he was pursuing something beyond strength, insinuating that he had a grander purpose. And with Vegeta, he accused him of being arrogant and entitled. In both cases, he seemed to be implying that these were fundamental flaws holding them back.

The thing is, Goku and Vegeta do not care what Jiren is saying. He may have valid points, but this ain’t the debate club. They’re in a fight. And they already know Jiren’s insanely strong. They’re just going to keep attacking him until they win.

And that sort of defines the entire philosophical conflict between these two teams. One of the criticisms I have with the Tournament of Power is that Universe 7, by far, has the most eliminations out of all the teams. The number I found was fifty-two, and I’m not sure if that counts Master Roshi and 18, who eliminated themselves. It’s cool that the “home” team was so dominant, but it also undermines the Tournament of Power as a concept. The original idea was that it would be cool to fight all the super-strong guys from other universes, but in practice it seems like most of the universes couldn’t hang with ours.

But the point is that Universe 7 is a lot more aggressive than the other teams. U6 did a lot of eliminates, but they were less powerful in general, so that kind of makes sense. And U11 had the most unified team and the strongest ringer, but they seemed content to back off and let the rabble fight amongst themselves. In Jiren’s mind, he’s already won this thing, but the U7 crew refuses to take anything for granted. They’re here to fight, win lose or draw, and so they’ve been whippin’ ass nonstop. At no point have the U7 team considered fighting defensively to protect their lead over the other teams. As far as they’ve been concerned, they’re scratching and clawing their way to the top, even when they’re the ones who are winning.

So no, Goku and Vegeta aren’t going to lose their nerve just because Jiren hits them really hard.

Meanwhile, Dyspo sees Jiren fighting and decides that he should go all out as well. WHAT WERE YOU WAITING FOR? The tournament’s almost over! There’s only five more opponents to eliminate! Why would you hold anything back?

So Dyspo punches Frieza and does this neat move with a ki ring that explodes.

I should take a moment to praise the dub VA for Dyspo, Christopher Dontrell Piper. The Japanese VA, Bim Shimada, played the role with a certain peppy feel. He wasn’t talking fast, but there was still this kind of “fast character” flavor to the performance. But Piper kind of flips the script, making Dyspo more relaxed. Piper’s Dyspo sounds like a cool athlete who just got the big contract and he has the skills and talent to deserve every penny. Even when he’s frustrated, he still talks like he’s winning, he’s just mad that it’s taking longer than it should. This is a dude who knows he’s the best and he knows Jiren has his back. Piper is definitely one of the reasons I’m so glad I finally paid for the dub.

(Also Ray Hurd’s Top is excellent, but Top isn’t in this episode much, so we’ll talk about him next time.)

But Dyspo’s attacks don’t work on Frieza, who goes Golden to put a stop to this. And Dyspo soon finds that he’s having some difficulty.

But that’s okay, because Dyspo just turns up the juice and gets even faster. This is apparently called “Super Maximum Light Speed Mode”, but I’m going to call it “Dyspo (Purple)”.

Dyspo can’t hurt Golden Frieza much, but his awesome speed does allow him to push Frieza closer to the edge of the ring. Also, he’s so fast now that even the Grand Zeno’s GodPads can no longer keep up with Dyspo’s movements on slow-mo instant replay. The Grand Minister admits that he cannot correct this flaw, and asks the Zenos to accept that Dyspo is simply too fast to follow. They’re pretty chill about the whole thing, which is nice.

Anyway, before Dyspo can ring-out Frieza, Gohan jumps in to make the save. I’m guessing he had an easier time blindsiding Dyspo while Dyspo was sticking close to punch Frieza.

Oh, right, I forgot. Earlier on, there was a part where Frieza offered to switch sides if Dyspo would agree to wish him back with the Super Dragon Balls. Everyone got worried, then wondered if it was just some weird headgame Frieza was playing, but Dyspo refused the offer on principle. The Pride Troopers don’t make deals with evildoers, which certainly does save them the hassle of worrying about this sort of thing.

Anyway, the reason I bring this up is because when Gohan rescues Frieza, he questions his judgment, since Frieza might betray him again. Gohan isn’t playing his game, and insists that he’ll support Frieza because they’re teammates. But if Frieza does try any shit, Gohan promises to “end you myself.” Pretty cool line, but I’m pretty sure we’re not going to see Gohan take out Frieza anytime soon.

Double-teaming Dyspo doesn’t work very well, since he’s so damn quick. So instead, Gohan suggests that they find a way to pin Dyspo down, so he’ll have less room to maneuver.

And so Frieza gets to a safe distance and shoots beams out of his fingers to create....

LASERCAGE 2000™ !

There’s only one rule in LASERCAGE 2000™ : If you touch a laser, it hurts a lot.

That rule applies to Gohan as well. LASERCAGE 2000™ does not distinguish friend from foe. It is the ultimate equalizer of the 90′s.

So this puts Dyspo in a bind, since he has to fight Gohan in close quarters, and that limits his ability to use his speed. Dyspo’s good, but he’s not toe-to-toe-with-Gohan good.

But he hangs in there, because what else can he do? Still, it seems like it’s just a matter of time before Dyspo succumbs to Gohan’s offense. But wait!

Frieza can’t maintain that attack for very long, so he falters, and LASERCAGE 2000™ is now closed. Please return your protective goggles to the green basket before picking up your shoes from the storage bins.

Dyspo stops to gloat, but Gohan grabs him in a rear naked choke! It took me a few minutes to look up what this was, and it turns out it was the move I hear about all the time, so let’s talk about that for a bit.

So normally, you’d want to cinch your arm around Dyspo’s neck, using your bicep and forearm to squeeze the carotid arteries and restrict the bloodfloow to Dyspo’s brain. But Gohan isn’t trying to knock Dyspo out, and he certainly doesn’t want to kill him, so he’s not doing the “choke” part of the RNC.

“Rear” is just a reference to the fact that Gohan’s standing behind Dyspo, but what’s the “naked” part mean? Wikipedia said it was about the fact that you don’t need to wear a gi to apply the hold, but Gohan’s wearing a gi, so I was going to make a joke about this being a “rear choke” instead. But that’s not quite how it works.

There are some holds that require the opponent to be wearing clothes. For example, Gohan could do a move that involves grabbing hold of Dyspo’s uniform. But Dyspo’s wearing tights, so that might not work so well. And what if he was nude? The term “naked” in “rear naked choke” refers to the fact that the hold can be applied to the target whether he’s wearing clothes or not. So I just learned something today, and maybe you did too.

Anyway, Gohan doesn’t need to choke Dyspo out, he just has to hold him still long enough for Frieza to blast them out of the ring. They kind of act like this was Gohan’s plan all along, as if they were counting on Dyspo to get sloppy when LASERCAGE 2000™ failed, but I’m pretty sure this is Gohan improvising a Plan B. The only way for this to succeed is for Gohan to hold Dyspo the whole way out of the ring, which means...

... they both get eliminated. Gohan apologizes for this, but everyone assures him that he made the right call. Dyspo was too fast to knock out any other way, and this allows the remaining four U7 guys to fight Jiren and Top without Dyspo getting in the way.

Dyspo, on the other hand, is a lot more frustrated with his defeat. He probably should have fled the moment Gohan and Frieza joined forces, and focused on isolating a U7 guy. Top and Jiren seem to be doing well fighting two guys at once, so it was up to Dyspo to make sure neither of them got triple-teamed.

Then again, that’s easier said than done. Dyspo had to use his top speed just to push Frieza to the edge, and then someone jumped in to stop him. If he had tried that on Gohan or 17, the result probably would have been the same. And if he tried to attack Vegeta, I think he’d just lose outright. If it was 3-on-3, it might have gone differently, but the numbers game didn’t favor Dyspo at all.

But now it’s 4 against 2, which makes things even tougher for Universe 11. Or so you would think...

Here’s KISS with “2000 Man”. I’ll be honest, I’m running out of good KISS songs to use for this, and this is a cover of a Rolling Stones song, but it’s nice to get some Ace Frehley representation in this thing.

youtube

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #tournament of power #LASERCAGE 2000™

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fullmoonfireball · 11 months

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One Last Thing

The ship had been abuzz with excitement. It seemed like the four heroes could barely stand still for more than a minute, and when they did, her dad was talking their ears off. It had been strange to have the Lor Starcutter so busy lately, but this was a new height. It was a little scary, but... in a nice way? Morastrum wasn’t sure how to process the feeling.

“So, um, which one do you wanna use?” she asked Kirby, perched upon her dear friend Mr. Sandbag, who was fresh off a beating. “Because I wanna make sure I’m grabbing the right ability if you get hurt and lose it...”

Kirby let out a long “Hmm,” bouncing on his heels as if that would make himself think better. For all she knew, maybe it did. Either way, it was making electricity build up around him.

“Leaf! No, Sand?” He flapped his nubs. “Or Tornado! Wait, I might want Water! Ooh, but Mic could be fun...”

“Hey Pinky, none of us are goin’ deaf just so you can beat the dragon by yerself.”

It seemed both of them had failed to notice Dedede, standing at the door with his arms crossed.

“You’re no fuuun!” Kirby whined, shooting a quick spark arrow at Mr. Sandbag to disperse the charge that had built up around him.

“... Um. Mr. Dedede? Dad always says I shouldn't stand in the doorway, because the sensor’ll stop seeing you if you just stand there too long, and shnnnk.” She mimed a slicing motion.

“Doorway, shmoorway.” He waved a hand dismissively. "You two comin’, or should the three of us get all the glory?"

Kirby let out an offended gasp, and rushed past Dedede out the door, Morastrum following shortly after. The other two heroes had been waiting more patiently in the main deck of the ship. To little surprise, they were currently caught in a conversation with her dad.

“Hey, I got both of them!" Dedede interrupted. “We good to go now?”

Meta Knight silently nodded.

“Phew, finally!” Bandana Dee stretched, a smile in their eyes.

Her dad, however, wasn’t so eager. His ears lowered as he looked at her. “Mora, are you going with them? Landia’s quite the threat...”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Kirby cut in. “She’s been with us for everything else so far!!!”

“Morastrum is very skilled at dodging attacks,” Meta Knight added.

“Plus, we’ve done a lot of other dangerous things on our adventure,” Bandana Dee chimed in. “Like getting chewed on by eels or sucked through portals!”

Dedede nodded. “Yeah, I don’t see how helping us fight a dragon could be that much worse than followin’ us through the void.”

“Alright, alright.” Her dad put his hands up. “Point taken- Mora can help you if she wants to... You do want to, right?”

She nodded rapidly.

“I guess that settles it, then!” He clasped his hands together. He clearly wasn’t any more pleased about the idea, but he still put on a smile. Apparently, it looked genuine enough that there was some celebration from the heroes... Well, mostly Kirby.

“Before you all go to defeat that beast, though... Would you all mind stepping outside so I can talk to Mora alone?”

And so ended the brief cheering. There were a few grunts and grumbles of protest, but the four heroes gave them their privacy, filing out the door.

“...Am I in trouble?” Morastrum whimpered.

“No, no, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm glad you want to help with all this.”

“Then why do we need to talk alone?”

"It’s just...” He took a deep breath. “You know Landia’s dangerous, right? It’s taken the Lor down twice already, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I’m tough! I’m fast!” she huffed. “I’m not scared of big stupid Landia!”

He laughed, and gave her a scritch under the ear. “That’s my girl. Just promise me one thing, okay?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Once the fight is over, you come right back to the Lor and go to bed. It’s already pretty late, and we’ve got a big day tomorrow.” He held out a hand. “You got that?”

Morastrum pouted. That was a dumb promise, but she really didn't want to miss out... “Okayyy...” she grumbled, shaking his hand. She could always stay up late reading just to spite that request, anyways.

“Attagirl.” He smiled and patted her head. “You’re free to go join them now. Good luck!”

Her eyes lit up, and she rushed towards the exit.

“Wait!” He called out, stopping her in her tracks. “I forgot to mention one last thing!”

She let out a loud groan, and turned back around to face him. “What?”

“Don’t be worried if I’m not here when you get back, alright? I’ve got a surprise to work on.”

“... Why wouldn’t you be here?”

He winked. “That’d ruin the surprise!”

Morastrum stared back. He was so weird sometimes. “Okay, dad.” She continued towards the door. “Goodnight I guess. Love you.”

“Love you too, amulet. Sweet dreams.”

#Vesper's Writing #just wanted to write a little thing with Magolor and Morastrum :3c #Kirby series

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bleue-flora · 5 months

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Blue! You can do art? I don't know why that's so crazy to me, but your skill is really impressive! I love how you'll respond to a long post with another long post and just go back and forth, it's so nice that you'd take the time to do that. You're basically just great to have around. And since we don't always have 100% the same opinions, it makes it fun to discuss! Also, that c!rivals fic you wrote was really sweet.

*blushes intensely* thank you. 🥰💚 It’s ok to be surprised, I am a woman of many traits, too many honestly. 🙃 For real though, I really appreciate you saying that, my brother is an artist and so I think sometimes it makes me feel like insufficient or at least not good. So your complements mean a lot. 💚… you know I never really realized but you are right, I do disagree in our long essays a lot. Huh. I’m glad you read and like them, I’m always down to talk analysis and stuff and you have definitely helped me feel like I’m not just speaking to just empty space. (It does take a lot of time lol… in fact I currently have three essays in my drafts that I took a awhile to respond/didn’t finish in one sitting so I figured it’d been too long at that point…) 💚💚💚you too!… hmm which one? I’ll assume the crown one, and it means so much that you like it. 💚

And btw, Your dialogue is always so good, and your character portrayals are on par. You are I think one of the only people I actually can read Quackity pov and not lose my mind which is really saying something…. Anyways, always a joy to read your new works and hear what you have to say.💚 You are just so sweet and wholesome and genuinely one of the reasons I even venture onto social media these days.

#you have no idea how much my smiling right now thank you #this round on complementing people is to cool if you💚#💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚#hello there

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lifesapartyyoureaboy · 1 year

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My Thoughts on TDP Season 4

Nobody asked for my opinion but I’m giving it anyways.

Dude, what was going on with Rayla this entire season? She comes back with zero explanation and acts so casual about the whole thing, even though she has to know how much it hurt Callum to see her leave. And then she says that she went after Viren for vengence (when in ttm and Dear Callum she makes it pretty clear that’s not her reasoning), ditches a dragon in need, ditches Soren, and FORGETS IBIS’ NAME? Like bro. It doesn’t help, also, that I’m pretty sure she came back the day that Viren does. As the season went on she started acting more like herself- and the coin scene was really cool to watch- but idk. I think I’m still kind of hoping that it’s revealed that this is a fake Rayla, and the real one will come back and issue a real apology to Callum and be hella awkward and nervous about being around him, bc her leaving for two years was played off a little too much for my liking.

I’m also kind of upset that Callum didn’t get mad and yell at her, I was dying to see that happen. My boy deserves a moment to be completely honest about his feelings. And in a panel they did a while back there was some light alluding to what they called the “scary hand ice scene” or something like that, which really seemed like it was talking about Rayla having some kind of vulnerable moment, but that didn’t happen this season, so maybe it happens later or I fabricated that whole thing or they just didn’t actually do it. I still hope we get a scene like that at some point though, it’d be interesting to see if Rayla almost losing her hand in season one is still effecting her somehow, mentally or physically.

At the end too- just one more thing about Rayla and then I’ll move on- when she sees Viren and wants to go after him, and Callum lets her go ALONE? That would have been the perfect opportunity for him to show her that they’re stronger together, since she keeps leaving him because she wants to keep him safe, but instead he just let her walk off. I just felt like that could have been a really interesting scene, but maybe they had their reasons for it. Idk, it felt weird to me.

Loved Terry though. He seems like such a genuinely sweet person and I appreciated him sticking up for Rayla and calling Claudia out- which, by the way, the whole coin scene was awesome. I’m so glad that (potentially fake) Rayla got Runaan and her parents back.

I also loved seeing more of Soren! We didn’t get a whole lot of Soren actually being a good guy and showing off his skills in the past few seasons, so I really enjoyed that spotlight on him this time around, he deserves it. I love Soren so much.

Finally, I want to say that I’m glad Viren didn’t get a redemption arc. It was kind of hinted at for a second there, when he went on that speech about how he was always trying to be something he’s not and now wants to travel the world, and it felt really cheap and shallow to me, personally. After all the shit he did in the past three seasons, now suddenly he’s seeing the error in his ways? I get that death can be enlightening, but it was too quick of a change in him for my liking, so I’m glad they don’t seem to be going that route.

So yeah, loved most of the season, just hoping they clear up and explain where Rayla’s been, why she came back, and wtf the key of Aaravos does and how Callum knows it’s the key of Aaravos, because that was kind of thrown in there and I feel like that should be elaborated upon.

#the dragon prince #rayla #callum #ezran #soren #terry #tdp season 4 #the dragon prince season 4 #please let it be fake rayla #viren #claudia #tdp

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chelseafcwmemes · 9 months

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Doing shit like that no wonder Marta is her idol

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Happy birthday hope this didn’t ruin your big day 🤩🥳

Truly, Pernille really showed her insane skills today (minus scoring)

Birthdays aren’t that important anyway and i’m fine. I expected us to lose and i’m glad it was with heads somewhat held high. It’s just football and someone has to loose. I’m just glad it was with dignity!

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shingeki-no-alena · 9 months

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Lost Promises (Chapter 2)

Marco Bodt x Fem!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, Cannon AU

Warnings: Blood, injuries, future gore, future spoilers, future character deaths, cheesy moments, reader is Levi’s sister so she’s got some baggage (I’ll add more as they appear!).

Summary: After years of constant pressing, Levi has finally agreed to let his little sister, y/n, join the scouts. On the condition that she goes through the extra training of the cadet corps first, in hopes that it would help make her change her mind.

Chapter 1 || Masterlist || Chapter 3

It’s been about a week since orientation day. Everything was going well, with classes and all. Y/n had been hanging around Marco and Jean, mostly. Occasionally sitting with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. It was surprisingly easy to get along with Jean. Y/n had to occasionally put him in his place, but it was all light-hearted.

Today was going to be the first day of ODM training and the first day of physical training in general. Everything up to this point has just been classes teaching the basics of titan culture and the history of their bloodlust. Y/n got up in the morning, bright and early, ready to finally start working on her skills. Although, there’s not much training for her anyway. After self-defense, ODM was the first thing Levi trained her on. Because of this, her first day was more of a support role for the other cadets.

Y/n finished getting dressed in her scouts uniform before heading out the door, to the mess hall. Once she arrived, she grabbed her breakfast and began her search for a table.

“Y/n! Over here!”

Y/n looked towards the sound of the voice, eyes meeting Marco, arm in the air with a sweet smile. Y/n smiled back and walked over, taking a seat next to him. “Hey,” She said. She looked across the table to see Jean stifling a smirk at Marco.

“Hi, Jean.” Y/n said, beginning to eat her breakfast.

“Hello there. Glad you’re finally here. Marco can calm down.” Jean replied, taking a swig out of his mug. “Jean! That’s not true…” Marco complained, looking in disbelief at the boy he called his best friend.

“Yeah, okay. Maybe I exaggerated a bit, heh. You know what’s funny? I didn’t think I’d ever become friends with a scout.” Jean confessed, bluntly. Y/n shrugged. “Well, I never thought I’d become friends with a future MP, so I guess we’re both surprised. Don’t dismiss me by my choice of career, dear Jean-boy, my reputation very well speaks for itself if you ever want to question me.” She remarked, watching for Jean’s reaction. He physically cringed from the nickname, giving a slight glare. The nickname, Y/n learned, was one that his mom gives him. Boy, does he hate it. Marco sweat dropped, holding his breath.

“Relax! I’m just teasing! Jean, you can have whatever opinion you want of me. I won’t hold it against you. It just gives me more of a reason to prove you wrong.” Y/n shrugged, returning to her smile. Marco relaxed, laughing a bit.

“Okay, you’re pretty confident. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you decide to join the scouts? And don’t tell me it’s because of your brother. You might lose my respect.” Jean said, leaning forward in interest.

“No, but living with a bunch of scouts for most of my life had a big impact. Commander Erwin told me these theories when I was younger. Sure, they’re just myths, but it gave me a goal to find out the truth about the world. About the outside world. That might make me sound like a naïve child, but everyone needs a sense of purpose. Some kind of motivation to give them a reason to keep moving forward.” Y/n explained. Ever since Erwin took them in, Y/n was close with the commander. He treated her like his own daughter, even though she’s just some unwanted kid from the Underground. Same with the other authority figures in the Scout Regiment. The scouts are her family, no matter what anyone says about them.

“That’s amazing. I think you’re amazing,” Marco spoke, without thinking. “I mean you’re reasoning! You’re very wise!” Marco frantically tried to cover up what he had said, face becoming red once again. Jean busted out laughing.

“Nice save, Marco,” Jean sighed, collecting himself. “Well, glad to know you did it for yourself.” Y/n nodded at his comment, now focusing on her breakfast.

Once the bell rang, it was time for ODM training. Before the cadets could actually use the gear, they had to be able to pass the balance test. If they couldn’t pass, they would have to leave.

“Ackerman will be demonstrating how this will work today!” Shades yelled to the rows of cadets. Y/n stood at the tall structure, attaching her belt to the wires that hung down. Shades walked over to the crank and continued to explain the process. As the wires pulled to lift her up, Y/n remained still. To her, this is the easiest test. Her feet now hovering above the ground, she looked relaxed and unbothered. The cadets observed in awe, muttering to each other about how easy she made it look.

Shades lowered Y/n back down to the ground, finishing up his explanation. He broke everyone up in their groups, officially starting the training. Y/n began to walk around, looking for a place she could be to help out. The last thing Y/n wanted to do was just sit and watch. She was not arrogant about her skills.

For the most part, everyone seemed to be doing well. Some were very wobbly when trying to balance on the wires, and some weren’t. Y/n looked over to Mikasa, whom was perfectly still and relaxed, just as Y/n had been. Mikasa Ackerman, huh? Interesting…

Y/n continued to scan down the aisle of tall ODM structures, eyes encountering the sight of Eren. He was hanging upside down on the wires. Y/n immediately headed in his direction.

“Eren! Are you okay?” Y/n asked, quickly helping him up.

“This can’t be happening…” Eren mumbled, seemingly dazed. Y/n put her hands on his shoulders, “Hey, It’s okay! Let’s try again, yeah? I’ll help you.” Eren nodded, standing up straight again.

“Okay, try focusing on keeping your weight balanced evenly between your left and right side. Just relax. You don’t need to be tense because that’ll just make it harder for you,” Y/n directed. “You ready?” At this point, Y/n noticed that Shades was observing. She was glad that she had made it to Eren first. Eren let out a breath, his determination retaking him. He curtly nodded to Y/n, who signaled for the volunteer to lift Eren back up.

As Eren was lifted back off the ground, Y/n observed his movements. Eren was doing exactly what Y/n had said, staying up for a good five seconds before faltering. Before Y/n could process, Eren had flew forward, head hitting the ground hard. Y/n gasped, helping him up.

“Enough, Jaeger! Ackerman, take him to the infirmary! You get one more chance tomorrow! Fail and it’s back to the fields!” Shades commanded. Mikasa ran over, holding Eren up while Y/n unhooked his belt from the wires. Once he was free, both girls slung Eren’s arms over their shoulders and dragged him off to the infirmary.

~~~

The rest of the day went by pretty uneventfully. Y/n stayed with Eren and Mikasa for a bit, Armin eventually joining, to make sure everything was okay. Now, Y/n was walking around the training grounds to get some peace before dinner time. She looked over to the horizon, sun starting to get lower and lower. Branches of the tall trees in the forest rustling in the breeze. She heard footsteps walking towards her and then felt a hand on her shoulder. She whipped around to find Marco standing there, trying to catch his breath as if he had jogged over to her.

“Freckles!” Y/n cheered, smile gracing here face at the sight of her friend. Marco blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Freckles?” He asked, bashfully.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have asked first. I just love your freckles… They’re cute.” Y/n replied, immediately regretting the last part. God, Y/n! What happened to you!? A week ago you wouldn’t even be bothered by a boy… Y/n thought. Marco looked away, face completely red.

“T-T-Thanks… Um, I-I love your smile!” Marco stuttered. He was flustered and embarrassed. Not because of Y/n, but because of his own response. He meant what he said, he did. But should he have said it? Was he going too far? He was so lost in his internal conflict that he didn’t realize that Y/n was leaning forward. Before he could process it, she left a sweet kiss upon his cheek.

“You’re sweet. Did you mean that?” She asked, looking straight up into his eyes. Marco found himself lost, staring back into her doe eyes.

“O-Of course! I actually wanted to ask you if you maybe wanted to sit with me and Jean again at dinner. I want to get to know you better.” Marco explained. Y/n nodded, “I would love to. I like talking to you too.” This made Marco smile, relieved that he hadn’t scared her off.

“OOOH, MARCOOO!!!” Y/n suddenly heard from a distance. Both her and Marco turned to the voice to find Sasha and Connie running over. Y/n had talked to them on occasion, the two usually always together. Both of them had made fools of themselves at orientation. Connie had saluted from the wrong side, and Sasha had been eating a potato. Sasha got punished to run for the rest of the day, but that didn’t bother her as much as being told she lost food privileges for the first three days. It wasn’t long before people started referring to her as “Potato Girl”. Y/n had really gotten to know the food-lover during their time staying in the barracks. She completely adored her.

The two finally reached Y/n and Marco, panting with their hands on their knees. “Didn’t know you had it in you, man.” Connie huffed, smirking up at Marco. Sasha joined in, “Yeah, and Y/n is so out of everyone’s league!”

Y/n’s face heated up a bit. She wondered what they were talking about. Marco started to get flustered again. “What are you guys talking about?” He asked, innocently. Connie and Sasha looked at each other mischievously. Marco started to regret even saying anything.

“Oh, I see. So, you’re not asking Y/n out?” Connie responded, wiggling his eyebrows at Marco. Marco practically burst into flames.

“No! That’s not it at all! We’ve only known each other for a week! We’re just friends!” Marco blabbered out, waving his hands in front of him. Y/n nodded in agreement. She wasn’t sure why she felt so differently around him compared to the others, but she just blamed it on the fact he was her first real friend she had met in such a new environment. Besides, she knew why she was here, and she didn’t want to risk everything she has worked so hard for just to get distracted.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. I just came here to tell you that Jean is looking for you. C’mon.” Connie said, turning to walk in the other direction. Marco sighed in relief, saying bye to Y/n and Sasha before following after Connie.

With the boys having left, Sasha turns to Y/n.

“Do you believe Marco? Connie tells me that he talks about you all the time in the barracks.” Sasha informed, nudging Y/n with her elbow. Y/n was shocked. Does he?... She wondered, almost forgetting to answer Sasha.

“Does he really?” Y/n asked, looking into the other girls’ eyes. Sasha looked back at her, incredulously.

“Huh? I thought you’d be smarter than that, Y/n.” She said, hands on her hips with an eyebrow raised in question. Y/n rolled her eyes at Sasha’s dramatics. To her, it didn’t really matter that Marco was talking about her. That is what friends do, right? It just means he enjoys having her as a friend and Y/n was perfectly okay with that.

Coming out of her train of thought, Y/n spoke, “Whatever. Let’s just head back. Dinner is soon.” At the mention of food, Sasha immediately dismissed what they had been in the middle of discussing, grabbing Y/n by the arm to drag her to the mess hall.

A/N: Very long overdue update, but here’s Chapter 2! Also, I went back and did some very needed editing. I realized I had an OC’s name all through Chapter 1 that I forgot to change.

#aot #aot x reader #attack on titan #marco bodt x reader #marco bott x reader #series #snk #shingeki no kyojin

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