#i think setting the bar for what people are signing up for is important. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

one-idea · 2 months

Text

Part three of shanks raising ASL

First - Previous - Next

This time with some Mishanks.

Going back in time a little, while Shanks was away looking for the Gomu Gomu no Mi. Mihawk made his way to the East Blue to visit his old rival turned…something more.

It’s been a while since Mihawk had seen Shanks. He knows that Shanks went to the East Blue to look for something and wouldn’t return to the grandline until he found it. But going from seeing Shanks once a week (at least) to not seeing him at all for a few months has been…trying. In short he misses him. Though he’d never admit it to the younger man. So he sets off. He’s been bored and needs a good duel. (And to kiss his boyfriend but that’s neither here nor there)

He meets up with Shanks as he’s looking for the Gomu Gomu no Mi. Just after Shanks vowed to come back for Luffy. Mihawk is shocked to see his lover without his treasured hat. He knows how much that hat means to his lover and he is more than willing to go slaughter whoever took it from him.

Shanks has to quickly explain to him that, no the hat hasn’t been destroyed, he just gave it to someone. And Mihawk is shook because Shanks would rather die then separate from his captain’s beloved hat. Who could possible be important enough that Shanks would part with his hat?

So Shanks tells him about the precious little boy on Dawn island. The little boy he’s adopting. And it didn’t occur to him until this very moment that Mihawk might not want to be involved in this. He loves Mihawk and doesn’t want to lose what they have. But he won’t break his promise to Luffy. So if this is a deal breaker he’ll understand. Mihawk didn’t sign up to have a kid with him. Shanks made a decision that will effect both of their lives without consulting Mihawk at all, and while he feels bad about it he doesn’t regret his promise to Luffy. “That kids going to change the world. I just know it”

Mihawk is shocked. He never thought about kids. He knew Shanks never wanted a kid running around the Red Force. His own childhood on the Oro Jackson might have been filled with love but was also so dangerous and chaotic and he knew Shanks didn’t want to give his own children such an upbringing. This Luffy had to be something amazing to make Shanks change his mind in that stance.

“I’ll have to meet this Luffy. See for myself if he’s as special as you say.”

Mihawk isn’t agreeing to raise Luffy (not yet) but he’s not saying no. Honestly Shanks couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome. Mihawk isn’t walking away. In fact it’s as close to a yes and he knows Mihawk is willing to give him. And now he gets to introduce his two favorite people. And Mihawk’s going to stay with them until they go see Luffy! This is great.

It takes a few months before they find the Gomu Gomu no Mi. It was great for their relationship, giving them the time to reaffirm their commitments to each other and strengthen their bond. While also giving Mihawk the chance to process that he might have a son soon. There’s no debating that Luffy is Shanks’ son. Not with the way the man talks about his baby, nor the fond way the crew talks about him. But Mihawk has time to learn about Luffy from the crew and search his own heart on what sort of role he’d be comfortable having in this child’s life. He doesn’t want to lose Shanks but a kid is a lot. It changes everything and he deserves time to process that.

He’s excited to meet the kid (though he’s not showing it on the outside) as they approach Dawn Island. But Shanks can’t sense the kid and puts himself into a panic. A panic that only worsens when they arrive at Party Bar and Makino has no idea where Luffy is. That Garp the Fist, hero of the marines, took the boy and is apparently his grandfather? (Shanks sure knows how to get them into trouble)

They start searching the island for the little boy and Mihawk hopes that they find him. He doesn’t want to think about how Shanks will react if they can’t.

Everyone regroups at Party Bar empty handed. Everyone but Shanks, who has yet to arrive. Mihawk can feel Shanks approaching the bar, but he’s not alone and Mihawk can only hope that one of the three strange presence with Shanks is Luffy.

Little did he know that Shanks would be walking up to this bar with not one, not two, but three little boys. He can safely assume that the littlest boy, who is being carried in Shanks’ arms and talking a mile a minute is Luffy. It helps that he is proudly wearing Shanks’ old straw hat. But the other two boys who are trailing close behind are a mystery. The blond one has his eyes on Shanks and Luffy, watching them with the same intensity Mihawk watches marines, a prey object that is one mistake away from losing its life. The third little boy is trailing behind, his head on a constant swivel. One moment he’s watching Shanks, the next the trail behind them, in front, to the sides, and back to Shanks. A protector is Mihawk had ever seen one, however scrawny the boy maybe.

Mihawk and Benn approach them quickly. With a quick glance at each other Mihawk can tell that Benn does not recognize the other two boys either. But that doesn’t matter once they reach them.

All three boys have been roughed up. Shanks calling for Hongo as soon as he is in range. Mihawk is quick to look the boys over. The blond seems the least injured, but the little protector and Luffy have obviously suffered a beating. A bad one. And one look at Shanks tells him his lover is about to lose it.

Hongo arrives quickly and goes to grab Luffy. Shanks instinctually pulls the little boy closer making the little protector and the blond behind him tense up.

“Let Hongo do his job.” Mihawk is quick to step in. Luffy and the other boys need care and Shanks needs to calm down. All three boys are reading and responding to Shanks emotions. If he doesn’t trust his doctor in this moment the boys won’t either.

Shanks locks in to Mihawk and calms. He knows he’s being ridiculous but in his defense he just found out Luffy has been kidnapped and beaten TWICE since he was away. It’s hard to let go, but he trusts Hongo. He lets the doctor take Luffy from him and introduces the other two boys, Ace and Sabo, telling them to go with Hongo and get checked out.

Once the boys are gone Mihawk and Benn are ready for answers. Although they are asking different questions.

“Who did this?” Benn asks wanting to know who hurt their boy.

“And are they dead?” Mihawk has spent less then five minutes in the boys presence but he can see the way the boy effects his lover. How much Shanks loves Luffy. Anything or anyone who thought they could hurt Mihawk’s loved would die for their insolence. (And isn’t it terrifying to think that that small circle is about to grow by not one but three people. Mihawk knows Shanks. Knows that the other two little boys are likely to get swept up by him as well. And what does it say about Mihawk that he’s already making room in his heart form them? What has Shanks done to him?)

Shanks explains the situation to them. That a pirate crew had attacked Luffy twice for stealing treasure from them. He doesn’t know the whole situation (At this point he doesn’t know that Sabo’s father was involved) just knows that some noble was involved and was trying to take Sabo while beating Ace and Luffy.

The crew is furious. Yasopp and Lucky Roux had come over to join them at some point and they are furious.

The two pirates are staring to shout plans for revenge and Benn is on board but wanting to hear what Shanks has planned. But Mihawk cuts them all off. “You didn’t answer my question.” He levels Shanks with a hard look, “Are they dead?”

“No.” Shanks sounds angry, he is. “I knocked them out with conquers haki.” Mihawk makes a noise that sounds unimpressed but Shanks knows he’s questioning why that was all he had done. It’s been a point of contention between them before with Shanks avoiding bloodshed when he can and Mihawk cut first and if its strong enough to survive, then ask questions later mentality. “I wasn’t about to traumatize those kids by slaughtering those men in front of them.” Shanks defends his decision but Mihawk has already turned his attention to the path Shanks had come down.

“They’re up this path?” Is all he asks. He agrees with Shanks’ decision to not traumatize the kids more. But he’s not going to say that out loud. Shanks knows. Knows from the way Mihawk is moving on with the conversation that he agrees with Shanks’ decision.

“Ya head up the hill and take a left when the path splits can’t miss them.” Shanks responds easily enough.

“Then let’s go handle this.” Yasopp is ready to go when Mihawk starts walking.

“That won’t be necessary.” He’s already making his way up the path.

“Hey it’s our kid they hurt.” Yasopp argues. He knows Mihawk cares for the captain, and the crew to an extent but he’s never been good at reading Mihawk. No one really is except for Shanks and Benn. But Mihawk doesn’t have the same relationship they do to Luffy. This isn’t his fight.

Mihawk doesn’t even break his stride. “Which is why he will be far more comfortable with all of you around. I’ll go deal with the rift raft. You stay here and take care of the kids.” He’s right. Luffy will be far more comfortable and more importantly Save with their crew around. The boy doesn’t know Mihawk, yet, so he would be less likely to stick around in the swordsman’s care.

Plus Mihawk has been feeling the need to slice something in half since this morning, when they arrived to this island and Shanks had entered panic mode. He hadn’t been able to calm Shanks (nothing would until Luffy was found) he is not the one who found the boy, and he’s more than a little over feeling useless. This he can do. He can remove anyone who dares to harm what’s his. Plus Shanks can stay with his boy and crew and relax in the knowledge that Mihawk will take care of it. (And isn’t it nice to know that Shanks trusts him with this. As his lover isn’t calling out or trying to stop him)

Later the island shakes from his attacks. It’s over quickly but he’s quite happy with the fear he struck into these low lives hearts before he cuts them down. The noble might lead to future problems but for now his corpse brings Mihawk joy. If the Navy asks he can always deny his involvement. A noble wondered to the wrong side of the island and got cut down but pirates. How sad.

He starts to make his way back to Party Bar content that the danger is gone and he can now meet the boy Shanks adores without interference. And they can figure out the other two little boys and their parental situations. (He’s not already thinking about adoption that’s Shanks thing okay)

What he is not expecting is the pandemonium he walks into of

One very distressed red head

One cursing little boy saying things that would make marines blush

One little blond trying to not have a panic attack

And one stretchy boy sobbing on the floor about never being able to swim again

Mihawk will never know peace again.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #portagas d. ace #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo #shanks is luffy’s dad okay.#shanks #dracule mihawk #mishanks #asl brothers #asl trio

130 notes · View notes

jung-shook-iieee · 1 year

Text

Pairing : mafia boss jk × chef reader (f).

Genre : oneshot, mafia au, yandere.

Warnings : mafia Lord jk, he's really rough tho, smut (dub/noncon, facefucking, unprotected sex, degradation, spanking, bruising, slightly public sex, humiliation, light daddy kink), he's kind of obsessed with y/n , graphic descriptions of violence & gore, slapping, unhealthy dynamics,

Description : you stumbled upon something you shouldn't have, and now jungkook needs to make sure you stay silent.

Word count: 3.2k (of pure filth.)

A/N : it's dark for some readers so please do not read if you're not comfortable. But if you like it then please do vote and comment. Thank you. <3

A/N : well I do think this one needs a little editing here and there but I'll just leave it here as it is, maybe I'll edit in future. Please enjoy and do tell me what you think about this one. 💛

___________

Working here, in Jeon Mansion as a head chef was and a golden opportunity for you. The pay was good, the ambience was soothing providing a great warmth while working, the people were good. There weren't many rules and regulations for staffs but a few were to be strictly followed.

One of the most important rules for all the staff was to not enter the basement of the mansion. This rule was set way past before you joined here. You've never seen the basement, only saw a few people go down.

The mansion was glorious by all means, decorated just like you've heard in the old tales but with the twist of modern taste. The mansion had two large floors, at the roof top there was small setting similar to an expensive restaurant. The first floor consisted a number of large rooms and a gym. And lastly the ground floor, where you were assigned to spent you working hourshours. It had a beautiful, spacious kitchen, dinning hall, gaming room and a drawing room. It felt good to work there.

It was past 12 AM, you just wrapped up, logged your shift and cleaning the mess you and your coworkers created while preparing for a small get together party, which your boss had hosted.

Wiping your hands off with a wipe placed inside of your apron, you head towards the bathroom, down the back and to the right. The blocked off stairs are just next to the door, your hips practically bumping the sign as you head towards the door.

A faint, distant scream jolts you out of your movements.

You pause, hand frozen above the door handle, chest heaving with your breaths that grow in intensity. You go still, listening for another sound.

All you hear is faint yelling, yelping and shuffles, all coming from the exact same place.

The stairs stare back at you with a vengeance, begging you to step over the locked chains.

It's only when the noises cease that you find yourself complying.

You manage to get over the chains, gown riding up as you slide your legs over, trying your best not to trip on the narrow stairs. You keep quiet, practically tiptoeing down each stair.

You can feel your heart racing, beating, like it's about to pounce out of your chest, an overwhelming sense of dread flooding your senses and drowning you in it.

As you head pass the top of the railing you see a very weird and scary surrounding, there was a door in front of you and when you turned the nob to open it, you see a hall of glass walls. the inside of it bar-like and art deco in design, red neon colored lighting illuminating the dark space. The doors are triangular in shape, coming together with a white tile as the top.

You're attention quickly wavers as you heard another loud growling and whimpering sound. It was rasped, a male voice. You walked in more and the voice only grew louder and clearer until you see.

7 men, standing close to a figure, all dressed in suits too fancy for a diner, bending over the frame like they're inspecting it. You're frozen, desperately trying to figure out what's below them, but one of them moves-

It's a man. A man you saw earlier in the evening. The man who barely eaten anything. The man who just sat at the dining table.

He's lying down on the floor, crimson blood staining the white of his button down. You can see his face is battered, beaten to a pulp, one of his eyes swollen over from the beating. There's a hole in his side where the blood is pouring from, and he's clutching it, gasping for air with a desperation you've never seen before.

The man above him has a gun, small enough to be concealed but large enough for you to notice- and he's clicking with it like a taunt. The man below him is fading, slowly losing himself, hand shaking above his fatal wound.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks. You don't even notice them, too locked in on the sight before you, the feeling of them dampening your hand as it covers your mouth the only real inkling of your physical reality you can hold onto. You're breaking out of your frozen state, turning to race up the stairs, but your own frenziedness breaks you.

Before you can even yelp, you trip, walking backwards and colliding with the hard door. The noise you make is loud enough for anyone to hear, and you cry at the realization- eyes wide like saucers.

They're staring at you. All seven of them. Eyes deadlocked on your shaking form.

One of them is... familiar.

You don't get the chance to react, before one of them is heading towards the door. You grab onto yourself, hoisting yourself up the stairs with desperate cries of fear, tears still falling down your red cheeks, you quickly tried to jump over the railing and run for your dear life but....but he grabs you. His tattooed hand have you by the ankle, pulling you down the stairs and pinning you against them.

"Please," You cry, broken sobs ringing through your chest, "I won't tell anyone, I swear. Please don't kill me, please, please."

His hand gravitates towards your throat, turning you around to face him with your back facing the stairs. He lands a slap to your face, piercing your skin in pain as your head retaliates with the force.

You whimper as he grabs you by the cheeks, squeezing them while he pulls you to look at him.

It's him.

Jeon Jungkook - your owner, your boss, the man who hired you, the man who pays you. The man who was nothing but sweet and kind to you from the beginning, the man who always tried lifting your mood while you cooked for him, the same man who gave you extra money as a bonus whenever he felt that you've exhausted yourself way too much.

" I fucking told you not come here down. " He growled angrily squeezing your cheeks toughly. " Can't you listen this one thing huh? "

You sob, mumbling a multiple apologies. You don't even know why are you shaking your head. You gasp and breath, all together was getting difficult.

You hear shuffling sound and with one look you saw two of those men were dragging away the

Body to another room.

" Make sure she stay silent, jeon. We don't want any trouble from your side. " One of them with brown hair and dragon eyes walked towards you and he warned your boss.

" Don't worry hyung, she's a smart girl. She won't say a word to anyone. And if she does, then I'll take the responsibility. " He explained to him with stern eyes. Even though the person who warned Jungkook looked slight older, but still you could sense who's holding the actual power.

Jungkook turns back to you, he took in your condition, shaking from the fear and tear soaked face, eyes. His grip softens as his facial expressions calmed too.

" Honey- " He cooed, stroking your hair back from your face. He softly held your tiny face, " You have to calm down baby. "

When you're still hyperventilating, still sobbing and pleading, he lands another slap to your face.

"I said fucking calm down."

His voice is surprisingly calm. Deep and raspy, like he's talking from the back of his throat. He strokes the inflamed mark on your abused cheek, watching as your violent sobs turn into sniffles and whimpers.

" I'm not gonna kill you. " Jungkook promises as his doe eyes stared back at you, still wiping your fresh tears from your cheeks. " I just have to make sure you nothing about this right.? "

" I-I won-t. Don't. Prom-is-e. " You Hiccuped, too scared to even form a correct sentence. He tsked at your choice of words. He knew you were a smart girl, but you aren't even looking at him how can he trust you?

" Baby, are you sure? How can i trust you hmm? " He said softly patting your head, like you were a pet to him.

Your eyes widened with fear and you quickly shake your head, " No-No... , you can, I promise you can, please, please, I promise I won't tell anyone- I-I swear, please... " An ugly sob left from your mouth as you tried to make him believe you.

He stares at you, silent, pondering, doe eyes boring into your skin like the sun. They fold back up towards your eyes, but settled.

"I know you're not gonna say anything," Relief washes over you. "'Cause I'm gonna make real fucking sure you don't say a goddamn thing.

Fuck. Fuck. Your heart is going so fast you think you might faint, cries escaping your lips once again, fearful of what weapons he has in his mind and in his pockets. You subconsciously started dragging your body backwards. But he quickly notices and this time he didn't gave you a option and carried you like a sack on his shoulders. He walked out of the basement and took you to his room on the first floor.

He threw you on his bed, you scurried back like a scared cat. He stood there, starring at you, his thoughts conflicting whether he should do something or not. But he knew no matter what he did, he fucked up. He can't no longer hide his true self from you, and your too scared from him.

You held your down on your knees as you sobbed and mumbled sorry over and over again. It was making him frustrated even more. That's why he never wanted you to see the real him, you were too pure for that. But you chose this upon yourself, he can't help now. Can he??

" You know, we could have done a lot better. I had different plans for you. But you... " He sighed as palmed his face. You could see his brows furrowed like he was regretting this.

" You just had to go down there and witness all of that. You should have listened to me honey, just like every one does. " He sighs as he walked towards your side. " Don't move, be a good girl now. " He warned as he noticed you were ready to move back.

Just like a good girl you were, you listened. " Come here. " He said and you crawled towards him. He leans down, pushing more hair away from your forehead, lips pressing against the skin there: "Be good, and nothing bad has to happen. Okay? "

You nod, lips tightly pressed close, a whimper left from your throat as you see him Unbuckling his belt. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly and the taking the black shirt off. He leaned down pressed his lips on your trembling ones.

"Good girl."

Jungkook's hands reach down beneath his trousers, pulling out his cock, already half hard. He gives it a few strokes until it's at full mass, continuing to stroke the top of your head with his free hand.

"Open wide. "

With a shaking mouth, you comply. He growls with the first slide of his cock in your wet mouth, letting out a holy curse to whatever higher power there is. He's practically too big to fit inside, your jaw crying with pain at the sudden stretch.

"Suck."

You whimper, palms clutching hard against your nails. Your tongue slides around his shaft as you suck on him, his groans and curses echoing in your head.

"That's a good girl," He praises, "Wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

You continued whining despite tasting the saltiness of his precum at the back of your tongue. He threw his head back, feeling the texture of your velvety tongue on his hard cock. God!! He imagines this moment so often, countless dreams of you sucking the life out of him. He just want to relish the moment

He slowly and carefully holds on to the back of your skull, " this is nice baby... " He furrowed his brows as he guided your head a little faster. " But i think I'm gonna need a little more, you gonna do it for me? " He asked as he collected your scattered hair in a ponytail. You could only blink away the fresh tears forming, unable to do anything but nod.

He started moving his hips, thrusting mildly. But no matter how careful he went you still gagged on his dick, spit flowing over your chin then rolling off to your clothed breast. You were ruining your clothes.

" You're not gonna say anything now, are you??" He grunts as he started thrusting his hips faster, " You'll let me ruin you, right? I know you will not disobey me again. God!!! " His thrusts pick up pace, his heavy balls quickly slapping against your chin with each movement. You cry out with each thrust, gagging and spitting around his head- but it just makes him harder.

But to your surprise , he pulls backback, slipping his cock out of your mouth.

Jungkook grabs onto his shaft, stroking himself with fast pumps, before letting go to rub his cock up and down your face. The wetness of your own spit slathers your skin, your eyes closing instinctually.

He slaps his cock against your face, tsking at the sight. Your mascara ruined, black tears running down your cheeks, spit and cum coating your chin completely. You felt filthy.

"You look like a fuckin' whore honey. " He says, as he wiped the mess he created on your face. Before you could react he tore off your dress making you gasp in fear. He then quickly turned you around on the bed raising your ass up in the air. He smacked your ass a few times before plunging his thick tattooed fingers inside your pussy making your cry on the bedsheet.

" Fuck.. I have to taste you before I go insane honey. " He mumbles as he crouched down to your already bend form level. His face just a mere inches away your cunt, you felt exposed.....he blew his warm breath on your wet skin making you shudder with sensitivity.

He licked a long stripe of your essence and you heard him growl. He never knew you could taste this delicious. He could eat you everyday like this, only if you would let him. He was eating and slurping messily making you arc your back and eyes roll to the back of your head. You didn't wanted this, but you can't stop the butterflies you were feeling. The feeling he was giving you was new, no one has ever went down on you. And this feels heaven to you.

" Ahh... Jung- please.. No.. Stop... " You blabbered too lost in the pleasure. Your mind was turning blank, the pleasure was increasing making you loose yourself.

Jungkook ate you a good few minutes then pulled away his face and stood up. He came out of his trousers and stroked his cock a few times before rubbing it on your entrance. His dick was soaking up all your juices. " I've always wanted to fuck you like this honey. Walking in here all pretty, all shy, all polite- kept makin' me think how good it would feel to ruin that pretty little head of yours. Make you my own little fucktoy- so polite, so willing, so obedient, just fuckin' made for this, made for me..just me..weren't you?"

You whine out a " no-no. " And shaking your head.

"No? " He asked sarcastically, " You're saying that you never wanted this? Never wanted me to ruin you pretty? Because your pussy is saying otherwise honey. " He taunted, you felt shameful because he was right. Your cunt is drowning his cock with your wetness, It's humiliating, how your body reacts, how your pussy clenches around nothing, how your slick drips down your leg and onto the bedsheet. It's fucking humiliating and depraved.

" I think you fucking want this honey, don't lie. It's useless. " Jungkook grunts as he slipped his tip inside your heat making your wides with a gasp following soon. He was huge, so much bigger than you've imagined before. Yes, you did imagined him with you in this position but maybe under some other soft circumstances. Not like this, you never wanted him like this.

You're gasping, whimpering, whining as his cock slides inside of you, bottoming out within seconds. The stretch burns, his cock thicker than anything you've had before, practically tearing you open from the inside. " See baby I fit so well inside you, just I knew I would." He starts to move, too fast as soon as he starts. His balls smack against your ass with each brutal slam, cock hitting your cervix in a way that has you sobbing- mouth wide and agape, unable to control the noises you're admitting.

That's it, baby," Jungkook's grunting, head tilted back in pleasure, "Take this fuckin' dick, all up in that tight little pussy." jungkook leans his body and wrapped his hand around neck to arc your back a little more. You gasp as his hold get tighter with each thrust.

You didn't even fight," He muses, "Didn't even fight to keep me out of this dirty cunt. That's how I know you're made for this. You already know what you're good for."

You gasp, letting out "ah, ah, ah's" with each rough pound he lands inside your pussy. Your knuckles are turning white from how hard you're grabbing the bedsheet unable to stop the way your body reacts to the stimulation.

"God, you're gonna fuckin' cum, aren't you?" He groans, smacking your ass, his rings leaving a nasty mark- "I've beaten the shit out of a man- I'm still fuckin' covered in his blood and sweat, and you're about to come? Fuck, you're such a whore, a good little slut for me."

You don't know why that builds you up faster. You're disgusted by how that makes you climb faster, how that makes your cunt clench, how your orgasm starts slicing through you like a knife- it's intense, how you come. You're twitching and trembling, he's barely able to hold you still with both hands, still fucking into you like his life depends on it.

"God, fuck yeah, gonna cum up in that cunt," Jungkook's grunting, moaning, cock twitching as you clench around it, "Gonna fill that little pussy up so fuckin' nice, never gonna want another cock. This pussy belongs to me, now, honey, and you're gonna fuckin' let me use it whenever I want."

His pounding gets sloppier, messier- and then he's yelling. His cum spills deep in your cunt, so much that you can feel it filling you up from the inside. He's left panting, moaning and gasping, still clutching onto your waist.

Jungkook pulls you up by your neck to sit up, level at height with him, pressing his nose against your neck.

"Mm," He moans, "Not gonna say a fucking word, are you, honey?"

You shake your head. Still shaking. Still trembling. Still processing.

He slammed his lips on yours and devoured you until he was sure he made you dumb.

"That's what I thought." One last peck on your lips and he says "You're learning fast. We're gonna have so much fun."

_____________________________________________________

Masterlist

@yellabella77 @taegularities @emojkluvr

540 notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 4 months

Text

End Game #10 - The Epilogue

summary: after signing with the best team in the country, satoru asks you a question on new year's day. (read the rest of the volleyball captain!gojo au here!)

wc: 1.1k

cw/tags: post-highschool time skip, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and parties,

note: happy new year everyone! i hope 2024 brings you love, happiness, and success. hope you like this little epilogue <3

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated :))

“I didn’t think it was physically possible to have this much glitter,” you huff, pulling a stray golden streamer from the top of your head and discarding it in the trash bin. The dustpan and brush take a break on the dining room table and you lean against the back of the couch, picking at a loose thread on Satoru’s old high school jersey. “Next time, we’re having the party at Suguru’s.”

“You don’t need to do all of this, babe,” your boyfriend reminds you from the kitchen, taking inventory of the catering leftovers and copious amounts of alcohol covering your marble counters. It was still early enough in the morning that girls were walking around the building’s lobby with their heels slung between their fingers. “I’ll have the cleaners come by in the morning to pick up all of that.”

“There’s candle wax on the floor, Satoru. I don’t even know how that ended up there without setting off a fire alarm,” you point out and he nods in agreement. “I’m just glad we have hardwood. This would be a nightmare to get out of the carpet.”

“It doesn’t need to be a nightmare at all, if you just let the cleaners take care of it. But, if it makes you feel better, remember that I moved all the cleaning supplies to the cabinet in the hallway.” Colorful tubes of glass carefully clank together as he repositions them on the shelves of the wet bar, sweeping confetti and more streamers off of the marble with the back of his hand. When he’s done reorganizing the remaining bottles, he neatens the stack of square polaroids and then promptly messes them up again, spreading them across the counter like a dealer with a deck of cards. “Can you believe we had this many people over last night?”

“I’m still in disbelief that we have this place, honestly,” you admit, slinging a leg over the side of the couch and rolling over the back, landing in the living room of your shared penthouse with Satoru. It still surprised you, what Olympic gold and brand sponsorships could buy, even with the tall ceilings and stunning views of downtown Tokyo. It brought a lot of acquaintances that had the nerve to call themselves your friends, most of them whose names you couldn’t remember. The important people were still in your life, though, Suguru with his highschool ASB sweetheart and the former first years all sharing a flat. It wasn’t a bad life, to say the least. “I keep thinking I’m gonna wake up and you’ll just be a figment of my imagination.”

“Believe it or not, I have the exact same nightmare.” He flops down next to you and pulls you closer to give himself more space, absentmindedly chucking a few throw pillows to maximize the space. “All these fluffy pillows and expensive wines seem a little too good to be true sometimes.”

“You’re an Olympic athlete, sweetheart. Fluffy pillows and expensive wines are pocket change for you.”

“For us, you mean. Nothing is just for me anymore,” he corrects. Ever since he signed on with the most successful pro team in the country and you earned your degree in sports management, everything had been you and him. Though it was new territory for both of you, it still felt familiar in some ways as you served the same roles that you did during high school. When Suguru joined the team, it only became more comfortable and the light-hearted banter helped keep you grounded in such a competitive atmosphere. “Speaking of, we should consider getting married.” Your eyes fly open after fluttering shut against his chest and you sit up, stick straight.

“What did you just say?” You look down at him in shock, only to be met with a shit-eating smirk.

“You know exactly what I said,” he says quietly.

“You can’t joke around about those kinds of things,” you murmur as you fall back into your original position, poking a finger into his side for good measure. “It’s not nice.”

“Who said I was joking?”

“Why? Why now, of all times?”

“You expected me to have a much larger proposal,” he muses and you feel your face become warmer. In your defense, he was always known as the flashy one, the one who brought you bouquets of flowers when you were in class or sent your study room catering to make sure you’d eaten. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought of marrying Satoru before. You just expected a much grander gesture than mentioning it while you procrastinate cleaning up the sparkly mess in your bathtub. “Disappointed?”

“No, just…surprised,” you say slowly and he hums thoughtfully. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“About marrying you? Since we won Nationals, obviously,” he states like it was written all over your bedroom wall in Sharpie. “But, if you’re asking about proposing while we’re lying on a glitter-covered couch at five in the morning, I thought of it just now. Call it delirium.”

“Hmm,” is all you can muster up as a response.

“Hmm.” He hums in the same tone, looking at you curiously. “So, what do you say?”

“You actually wanna marry me?” He shakes his head and rolls his eyes melodramatically in exasperation.

“I can’t believe you just asked that,” he says under his breath, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the couch. “I cannot believe that you just asked me that.” You follow his movements until you’re sitting with him, shoulder to shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Satoru. I just…get doubtful at times.”

“Doubtful that I love you?”

“Doubtful that you’ll let me stay with you through all of this.” Your hands gesture vaguely at the high ceilings and the shining floors, out at the stretch of Tokyo’s skyline and the infinite horizon beyond it. “I’m scared you’ll find someone else to share such a lavish life with–”

“I wouldn’t ask you to marry me if I wanted to spend my life with anyone else, sweetheart. I’ve got this ring from my sock drawer to prove it.” Your jaw hits the floor and he starts laughing, your body frozen in place but screaming at you to see if he’s right as he fishes something from his pocket. “I wanna clean up glitter and bottles with you on New Year’s day for the rest of my life,” he promises, taking your hand and sliding an elegantly simple band on your left ring finger.

“I can’t believe you propose to me in the most unassuming way possible,” you chuckle, admiring the way the morning light catches on the metal. “You didn’t even get down on one knee.”

“This is the private proposal to make sure you say yes,” he reassures you with a grin. “The public proposal will be much more extravagant.”

“Mmm, I can’t wait. Happy New Year, Satoru.”

“Happy New Year, my love.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk volleyball au #jjk au

105 notes · View notes

galaxyshine24-7 · 4 months

Note

Deuce trying to protect the idea that the NRC is an ideal place for a family- Look, my mother raised me alone in the NRC and I'm fine

Yui- So good that when he was under 18 he already joined a gang and his life expectancy is less than 40 years, as he can be killed in different ways

Exactly, many of the boys not just Deuce try to convince Yuu that NRC isn't that bad. However, they always get shot down with Yuu's logical thinking.

I felt inspired to write a dabble about it. I hope you enjoy.

A Brighter Future

It is a cold day in NRC as snow softly falls along the street. The light from the Silver Bullet creates a warm glow inviting those to come inside and enjoy a hot drink.

Yuu tends the bar as always making a cup of hot chocolate for themselves and their customers who decided to remain rather late after an important meeting. It is an end-of-the-year occasion where the leaders invite any members they deem worthy to tag along.

It has been a chaotic year with many events and secrets being revealed. The one reveal on everyone's minds is the future desires of their usually secretive bartender. It was a big shock to uncover one of their deepest desires, but it also left a worried thought in all the boys heads.

Yuu wants to leave NRC one day to start a family. No one really leaves NRC, but the more the bartender insists the more the boys have to take it seriously. So now comes the challenge to find ways to keep Yuu from leaving.

"You know Yuu," Deuce leans against the counter rubbing the back of his neck. "I grew up here with my mom and it's pretty safe." Deuce tries to bring up the subject gently having practiced ways to convince the bartender that they can feel safe here.

"Deuce your mother did a wonderful job raising you, but you joined a gang at a young age. Not to mention it's encouraged for young people like you to join gangs basically signing your life away, and it's almost impossible to get out of them in one piece." Yuu puts whipped cream on the drinks sprinkling them with chocolate powder before handing one to Deuce.

"Well uh-" Deuce is speechless as he takes the drink.

"Oh come on it's not that serious." Ace chimes in leaning against the counter sucking on a candy can.

"Ace I literally found you in a dumpster beaten up." Ace winces at the memory and so does Riddle who has been listening to the conversation off to the side.

"I get what you guys are trying to do, but I will not be convinced." Yuu starts to hand out the rest of the drinks.

"But to just up and leave." Epel pouts taking a sip of his drink.

"It's not like you'll never hear from me again I'll call, you guys didn't think I'll be a bartender for the rest of my life did you?" Yuu places the rest of the drinks on a tray to hand out to the others. The first years watch Yuu walk away to hand out the drinks around the bar.

"Deuce what was that?! You said you practiced?" Ace exclaims.

"I did, I just didn't expect that response, they are... kind of right." Deuce slumps his shoulders. "My mom wasn't the happiest with me joining the gang."

"Yuu's thinking isn't wrong, this life isn't desirable to most." Jack crosses his arms.

"So do you want them to leave?" Ace snaps.

"No," Jack's tail puffs up as he looks away.

"Ortho can you run statics some sort of statics?" Ace looks at the robot child.

"I have, but no matter how much I manipulate them NRC is not desirable option for people to live." Ortho sighs.

"So then we have nothing?" Ace rest his head on the counter.

"We can still convince them." Deuce tries to remain positive, but the first years have seen how stubborn the bartender can be.

"So I guess it's back to the drawing board as you humans say." Sebek shakes his head sipping his hot chocolate.

Silly first years the leaders and their vice captains have already come up with many plots to keep the bartender right here where they need to be. The young ones just need to leave it too the older folk to set things right.

#twisted wonderland #silver bullet au #twst silver bullet au #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #asks #twisted wonderland x reader

66 notes · View notes

dellalyra · 11 months

Text

FAMILY FORMATIONS - PART TWELVE

Summary: He’s home. He’s here. Maybe, you can mend the shattered pieces of your lives.

CW: I’m sorry this is so angsts but like so fluffy too?? But angst? Idk it’s a hot mess of emotions. Swearing, loss, grief, grief, grief, like one suggestive sentence.

A/N: do we like voting on what comes next?? I think that’s fun. Anyway - legit kinda proud of this, I’ve written like a million thirsts on how fucking delicious unsealed gojo looks but I was so excited to explore the toll and emotions of the prison realm situation on the FF gang and also show that there is no couple more healthy and solid than Y/N and Satoru. As always, requests open and appreciated x x

MASTERLIST

Recommended Listening:

The Parting Glass - (I like the Hozier version, works well for Y/N and Gojo discussing the losses)

What He Wrote - Laura Marling

Set Fire To The Third Bar - Snow Patrol

The Blower's Daughter - Damien Rice (the turnaround)

I am the AntiChrist to You - NuDeco

Ensemble, Kishi Bashi (the ending)

Yuuji’s voice, calling your name echoes through your head. You had no idea whether the unsealing worked or not. The box, it was gone. So now, you just sat staring at the skyline – trying to comprehend the fact that maybe, he was just gone. The angel – she’d done her part and the world had shook and you hoped that maybe, just maybe, that was a sign that your love was back in the mortal realm.

You waited, and stood, and waited, and watched.

Was this it? Had the world been left on your far too heavy shoulders? All the grief, the panic, the anger, the blood – was all of that yours to carry alone now? You couldn’t. You would fail. Without him, there was no hope. You wouldn’t be able to protect your family, your friends, yourself – at least Akio was out of Japan, but everyone else – you would die to protect them, even though you knew it would be the last thing to do.

The sun was beginning to set, you stood on the balcony of this flat – some stranger’s home, who had been quick to leave Tokyo – and you wished for the warmth of the cottage. The home Gojo and you had bought not long after graduation: with its plush sofas, and art spread around – some Tsumiki’s, some your families. The kitchen where many nights and so many important moments and memories had been made along with every dinner, you, Satoru – eating take out on the first night in your new home. The first night Megumi had asked for seconds a few weeks after they moved in, the table you signed the adoption papers for them, where Kento had told you both he was returning to sorcery, countless wine drunk nights with Shoko, where you and Satoru had told the Fushiguro kids that they were getting a sibling, where Akio had shouted his first word ‘cake!’, where Megumi had told you about his feelings for Itadori. All the kids room, and the spare rooms which had turned into other people’s de facto bedrooms. The master bedroom, nights wrapped up in tangles of limbs and sweat oh such sweet pleasure that everything else faded away or wrapped in blankets and each other's loving arms – whispers of eternity passing with the pillows as witness, falling asleep marvelling at the beauty of the moonlight bouncing off the Snow White hair of the ethereal man who you some got to call your husband splayed across the pillow beside you. You would often trace his features in his sleep, so at peace and restful and so beautiful that you couldn’t help but fall into dreams next to him. Your garden, where you grew everything from seed – peonies, sunflowers, roses, dahlias, lupins, lobelias and sweet pea and wisteria and most fruit and vegetables that you could dream of.

You’ve been holding everything in for so long – 19 days. You can’t falter. Not yet.

Please, ‘toru. Please come home to me.

You’re lost in your memories and hopes that somehow, the unsealing worked, and your beautiful boy will find you and love you and be beside you again – and then you will feel whole. Then, your soul and his will be complete.

The sliding door of the balcony breaks your trance.

“I’ll be in soon, Yuuji. Just enjoying the sunset.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll find us some food. Leave your jeans out, I’ll mend them later.” You’re listing off the things you need to do because if you just keep going then maybe time will move faster and he will be home. Home with you.

“Y/N. Turn around.”

You slowly do as he asks.

“Hey, Princess.”

The bow clutched tightly in your hand clattered to the ground and you follow soon after, the legs and body that has been holding you steady and shouldering the fear and grief of all of your loved ones, gives way – as your knees buckle and make contact with the hard ground beneath you.

He’s alive, and he’s safe and he’s here.

A sob wracks your body and all that manages to come out of you shaking lips is,

“‘Toru?”

And then your senses are engulfed, and you are home. Strong, steady arms pull you tight against a broad, heaving chest which you feel letting out shaky breaths.

“I – Satoru, fuck, I didn’t know if you’d come back, I thought I’d lost you forever, I didn’t know if it worked I needed to believe – oh god, you’re here., I couldn’t feel you at all, oh my god you’re here and you’re real. ‘Toru. I tried my best and I failed, and everything’s fallen apart and –” your sobs almost made your words unintelligible, but Satoru knew what you were saying and what you meant.

“You’re safe, you did so good. I’m here, my brave, strong girl.” He whispers into your hair.

You pull away and your hands are flying everywhere on his body, checking for injuries and any sign of something wrong but he’s okay, he’s strong and he’s here.

All you can do is grab him by the messy, snowflake white hair and pull him into your face to crash your lips against in a desperate, messy kiss full of unspoken words of love unconditional and reassurance that you both need, and the promise of safety in your reunion.

“Princess, Akio – where is he?” He says, petting your hair. You two would get to the issue of your eldest son in a minute, but the baby – he needed to know where his baby was.

“Safe – I sent him with my mom and uncle and he’s not in Japan. I got him out of the country.” Your words comfort you both, knowing the 18-month-old was safe and sound.

“Akio is safe but ‘toru – you know, don’t you? Megumi – that bastard, he took him. He’s with Ge- Kenjaku.” You stare into his eyes. Your husband was the only one who could fix this mess, but you really were trying to ignore what that meant.

“I know. I’ve seen him. But Y/N, he’s alive. He’s in there and he’s alive. I’ll get our little boy back.” You collapse into him, and him into you.

You realise he’s got no idea about the loss. The grief and the fact that you should be mourning but you don’t have time because everything is falling apart. He needs to know – and he needs to know now and from you, before he realises it or someone says something, he deserves to be told and he deserves it softly because the isolation and suffering he’s endured for 19 days have taken an inevitable toll and he needs you.

You suck in a deep breath and realise everyone else has long left the area. It’s just you both. Steadying yourself, as best as you can, you pull him into you – gripping the sides of his face so you can see that beautiful face.

“Satoru. Before you hear from anyone else – I need you to hear it all from me. Okay?” You say, pressing tearful kisses into his hairline.

“Please Y/N. I need to know; I need to know who we’re fighting for. There’s faces I didn’t see beside Yuuji and Maki and - I’m scared. I’m scared Y/N but please, God, please tell me now.” His voice is filled with despair and vulnerability that only you’ve seen.

“Are you sure?” You ask, pulling him to look in your eyes.

“Please.” He whispers.

“Satoru - it’s, we lost Nanami. He’s gone, Yuuji was there. He died at Shibuya.” Your voice breaks, his closest friend, Akio’s godfather - he’s gone. Only you, Shoko and Gojo were left now.

A sob wracks his body, and he grips your shoulders and leans into your chest, the pain of seeing him like this feels like it might rip open your chest and all you want to do is cry with him but fuck, the list is longer.

“Yaga is dead. Executed. Nobara, she’s alive but… they,” your voice breaks, “they don’t know if she’ll make it. You’ve been branded a traitor, me your accomplice. Mai Zen’in, she’s dead but Maki… she’s slaughtered the Zen’in clan. Alone. Yuuta’s home.” You try to explain the culling games and other events but everything feels like it’s coming out jumbled as you and Satoru just remain, a crumpled mess of limbs on the ground. Shaking, scarred – but together.

After some time of just – grieving and feeling each other’s presence, you convince him to come inside your temporary space and sleep and eat.

Once you’ve both settled, as much as you both can, you call a meeting of your small group. Satoru immediately goes into defence mode when a figure, unknown to him as an ally – enters the room.

“Oh, you’ve come to play, curse? What, tired of being used by Kenjaku, huh?” He sneers, and puzzle pieces click as you whip in front of him as he leans to lunge toward the tall, dark figure beside Yuuji.

“Satoru! Stop!” You say, softly.

And he does.

“This – is Choso. He’s Yuuji’s brother. Geto manipulated him. He’s safe – I trust him. He saved my life.” You grab his shoulders to ground him, knowing that the whirlwind of events was causing a torrent of emotions in him.

Choso nods, still new to the world, having been used like a lamb to the slaughter and having witnessed nothing but bloodshed and destruction since his birth. He reminds you a bit of yourself. Living solely to protect the ones you love, maybe that’s why you were so quick to accept him into your fold. He had quickly become one of your most trusted friends in the group, vowing to you, as the woman who cared for his brother that he would help retrieve your husband and son.

That evening, information was exchanged, plans drawn up, theories explored and through everything, Satoru and you never let go of each other – Akio was far away, but safe, Megumi – trapped by a monster inside his own body, the body of your best friend being used like a marionette with a date written in blood to fight the man you love, Nobara – on death’s door. Kento, gone forever.

But in those hours, hope was born.

Satoru had returned.

He was safe, and alive – and you had each other. All shadows seemed smaller by each other's side.

And now, you both had one shared goal – the most dangerous and potentially costly mission of your lives.

You were going to get your little boy back, together.

That night, in his darkest abyss, a shivering, broken boy heard and saw something.

He had no idea how, but he knew it was real.

Two clasped hands, golden rings shining, one hand smaller and the outlines of a vine tattoo tracing the wrist and one hand larger, pale with slender fingers clasping the smaller fingers.

‘Mom, dad?’ His weakened voice whispered into the vision.

‘We’re coming, kid.’ Satoru Gojo, his dad.

‘We’ve got you, ‘gumi.’ Y/N, his mom.

They were coming for him, together.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo fluff #anime #dad!gojo #gojo smut #jjk manga #jjk manga spoilers #jjk spoilers #gojo is back

183 notes · View notes

spicerackofblorbos · 2 months

Text

Chapter 4: February

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse (to be continued as writing is ongoing)

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! Happy (early) Valentine's Day! This would have been out much earlier but I figured since it's February, I would actually release it near the holiday the chapter is actually about. I'm so excited to finally release this into the wild! I'm in the process of working on March but I might take a break to work on some fluffy drabbles/one-shots because tis the season! I'll be back soon with more!

☾ Word Count ➼ ~8.5k (this one is even longer and I'm not even sorry about it)

Your bedroom floor is littered with piles of the clothes you spent the last hour trying on then discarding out of dissatisfaction. You and Hange were expecting company soon and you were standing in just your undergarments while staring into your almost empty closet in disdain. It felt as if you were 17 again, freaking out the morning before a school day because you were not comfortable with any of the fabrics in your wardrobe. You throw your hands up in the air and exhale loudly, thinking to yourself of how hopeless this endeavor was.

With people coming over, you wanted to try and dress up a bit. But in frustration, you opt for your usual wear of jeans and a baggy pullover sweater. Pulling your hair up in two little buns, you just grunt in acceptance. At least you were comfortable, which is the most important factor here. After slipping on a mismatched pair of socks, you pad back into the living room where Hange sat on the floor milling around on her work laptop.

‘Working again?’ You sign at them while passing them to the kitchen. You open a cupboard for a can of black tea. You were told Levi was coming over for the get together and you wanted to make sure there was tea ready. For everyone, of course, not just Levi. Or so you keep telling yourself.

“Just finishing up a couple documents is all. Did you make sure that we had the ingredients for the cookies today?” They mumble from behind the screen, their fingers zooming over the keyboard as they speak. Their eyes flick up at you as you sign a quick yes and they nod in response, shoving their face back into their reports.

You make quick work of the electric tea kettle, pushing the button to get the water boiling before tossing in a couple teaspoons of loose leaves in your favorite teapot. It was a gift from your foster-parents many years ago and it had golden bunnies hopping around on a light teal background. After the kettle shuts itself off, you pour the water into the teapot to steep then place the lid on top gently.

You then set forth to make sure your wipe-off board had fully stocked markers for tonight, placing them on the kitchen bar for you to reach easily. Texting might be faster, but a wipe-off board served better with a crowd of people so everyone could see what you were saying. When you’re satisfied with everything, you then turn to Hange.

It was past two in the afternoon, and they were still in their pajamas with a rat’s nest in place of their hair. Company was due soon and she was still tapping away, so you go up behind them and place your hands on their shoulders gently. She hums in response, not turning to you. You lean forward and place a hand on the laptop, and she stops. They cock their head up to look at you and their glasses glint off the afternoon sun coming through the dining room window. You furrow your brows at them and scrunch your nose.

“Can I help you?” She asks. Nodding, you release your hands to sign to her.

‘You need a shower.’ She purses her lips and averts her gaze.

“I have time, let me just finish this report first.”

‘No, shower first and then come back to this.’

“But-” You cut them off by pinching her cheek, not hard enough to bruise but enough to leave a mark.

‘Don’t make me throw you in the bath, you know I’ll do it.’ You smirk while raising an eyebrow at them. You’re met with an eyeroll, but she saves her work before shutting her laptop anyways. You kiss her forehead from above and then move back so they can stand up.

‘Thanks, don’t forget to wash your ass.’ You laugh silently and she just gives you a disgusted look before heading into her room, laptop under her arm. She flips you a bird before disappearing behind her door. You grin at yourself and then head back to the kitchen to set out some butter to soften.

For Valentine’s Day this year, Hange decided to throw a little party at your shared apartment. You just wanted to bake and watch stupid movies together, but they talked you into socializing. She had said something about today not being just for couples. She wanted to “celebrate singleness”, her words not yours. So of course, you were roped in because honestly, where else would you have to be? But that also meant she had invited quite a few people as well; a few coworkers and Erwin. And with Erwin, the invitation had spread to Miche and Levi. The latter of which you were excited for, no matter how much you told yourself it wasn’t such a big deal.

You smile at how close you and Levi had gotten in the past couple weeks, getting to know each other a little more as the days passed. It mainly consisted of texting each other little things you thought you’d both like or little hangouts at the café after hours. The café meetings were not anything new, of course, but they had a vastly different atmosphere than before. You chalk it up to the friendlier nature and usage of more words around each other.

You preoccupy yourself by pulling out the rest of the necessary ingredients and dishes needed for your baking adventure. One of the compromises Hange had made with you was the allowance of being able to still make your checkerboard cookies regardless of the plans. It was something you had picked up in the last couple years and it quickly became one of your favorite traditions. Hange did not refuse, which you think is mainly because she loved your baked goods and was looking forward to shoving them in her mouth. With that thought, you pull out another stick of butter to make a double batch just in case.

After a while, you place your hands on your hips and nod your head in satisfaction. Your ears pick up the sound of squeaking floorboards coming from Hange’s bedroom which signaled that she had finished bathing. Another noise comes from the front door with someone rapping on the hardwood. When you glance at the clock on the stove, it reads 2:47. Someone was a little early, you think to yourself as you saunter up to the door.

Pulling it open, you’re met with a smiling Erwin holding a small bundle of flowers and a bottle of wine. Miche flanks him with a box of canned beer under one arm, his other out to give you a hug which you run into instantly, making sure to do the same with Erwin. In the last month since their dinner party, it wasn’t just Levi you had gotten close to.

While you were already pretty comfortable with Erwin through your sister, Miche was a confidant you hadn’t expected to have. Throughout the passing days, you found that he was as technologically competent as he was as good of a chef. When he wasn’t behind a computer screen, he was often found sending you obscure recipes through late night text messages that he wanted to try with you.

‘I’m so glad you two could make it!’ You sign to them ecstatically, breaking out into a grin.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Erwin chirps as he winks down at you.

Taking a step back, you lead them through the door with your hand. You peep a quick glance behind them to make sure there was no one else coming. To your disappointment, there wasn’t. You shut the door behind the two men with a sigh. Hange must have talked to them beforehand about the apartment rules because they were quick to pull their shoes off at the door before walking more into the apartment.

You follow them into the living room as you check your phone. No new messages. You had sent Levi a text earlier this morning to see if he was planning to make it, but he had not responded. So, when Erwin places the flowers and wine down on the kitchen counter, you step up next to him to get his attention.

‘Thank you so much for bringing these.’ You hesitate for a moment as he looks down at you patiently. ‘Is Levi still coming?’ You stare up into his bright eyes, his lips twitching in amusement at your question.

“Yes, he is just running a little behind. He had a stop to make before making his way here.” He pats your head and you just blush. But you feel immensely better, knowing that Levi was coming for certain. To not waste the tea you’ve made, of course, you remind yourself. You grab the bouquet of flowers and take a big whiff of them, relishing the sweet scent.

Bending down into a counter beneath you, you grab a vase and get to work trimming the stems so you can place it on the dinner table. Miche is quick to place a couple of his beers in the fridge along with the wine Erwin brought so they would be cold for later.

‘What kind of beer did you bring?’ You sign towards Miche, Erwin translating for you.

“Oh, definitely not something you would like, even if you did drink. I saw it at the store and had to try it though. There’s peanut butter in it apparently.” Miche tilts his head towards the fridge. You make a grimace at him, and he chuckles.

“Hange had said to BYOB but I can’t imagine just having beer would be great, so I elected for something sweeter.” Erwin furrows his eyebrows at the very idea.

‘You do know BYOB doesn’t just mean beer, right? It’s just a figure of speech.’

“Wait, really?”

Just then, Hange comes out sporting a towel wrapped on their head as well as a t-shirt and jeans. They chose to go for the comfortable yet casual look too. She grins widely at the new company and runs to give them both a big hug as well.

“You guys made it!” She shrieks.

“We told you we would.” Erwin’s deep timbre responds back nonchalantly.

“Yeah yeah, but I still worried I ran you off with how much I talked about it. We’re going to have so much fun today!” Hange starts chattering away about the plans she had made for everyone. You giggle to yourself as you listen to them talk excitedly.

Since you weren’t one for alcohol, you always ended up as the mom for everyone, doubly so for your sister. She may be 5 years older than you, but you always felt like more of the responsible one. You didn’t mind it though. You figured it was a good payoff for everything else she does for you on a daily basis. Suddenly, another knock from the front door echoes down the hall and you’re quick to throw the metal bowl you just grabbed from the shelf down onto the counter before running to see who it is.

Much to your dismay, it’s not Levi. When you pull open the door, you see three people; Moblit Berner being one of them, whom you have seen many times since your move here. Hange’s coworkers are all carrying their own vice for tonight in their arms.

You give them a small smile in welcome and Moblit offers a friendly one in return. The two companions behind him consist of Nanaba, someone you have only met twice in passing, and another man, someone you have never seen before. You eyeball him apprehensively as you wave to Nanaba in hello, to which she does the same in response.

“Oh yeah, Onyankopon,” Moblit turns his head over his shoulder to refer to the man. “This is Hange’s little sister.” He says kindly. You wave at the stranger, still wary. The man named Onyankopon is very tall and broad chested with a crew cut that faded up his head. He gives you a big smile that warms up his entire face and speaks to you in a velvety tone.

“It’s nice to officially meet you. You know, your sister talks a lot about you.” His chocolate eyes are even warmer than his demeanor, and you can’t help but grin back at him with a blush, deciding he was okay. You side-step so they can funnel into the door. Your eyes linger down the hallway without meaning to, hoping to see a raven-haired man stalking up to the door. But it remained empty, so you shut it with another sigh and turn back to the ever-growing crowded apartment.

The company sat in various places in the living room while idle chatter filled the space. Some even opted for the floor, Hange being one of them. After a while, you had to remind your sister to take off the towel she had wrapped around her head because she was so engrossed in her conversation that she didn’t even notice it. It had dried for so long that her hair was even more frazzled than before. You just shook your head at her in amusement.

You make yourself busy with the cookies while everyone converses, the noise turning into buzzing. The living room was so cramped with bodies that you could barely breathe, so you found great solace in the kitchen. At this point you had donned on an apron that had floral designs vining their way to the top. It was an attempt to keep the inevitable mess from splattering on to you. While you loved to cook and bake, you were not neat about it in any capacity, but you found that to be the fun of it.

After turning the mixing bowl on to blend the sugar and butter, you turn to your now cold teapot and sigh. It had gone cold, but you hate to waste it; you decide to pour it into a sealable cup to make iced tea with it later.

You start to juggle the choices of either starting a new pot now or waiting until everyone has arrived when your ears perk up at another knock at the door. Your heart now racing at who it could be, you stare out to the living room over the half wall to see if anyone heard but no one had even turned their head. You shut off the mixer then wipe your hands on your apron as you make your way to the door. Taking a deep breath, you pull it open effortlessly.

You can’t keep your face from breaking out into a grin when your eyes fall on the short man with a deadpan expression standing in front of you. Levi. Furlan is there as well, waving at you from behind his friend. You mouth a ‘Hi’ to them both, barely containing the giddiness from the present company.

“Sorry we’re late. Not only did this jerk decide he was tagging along, but he also spent an ungodly amount of time getting ready.” Levi’s gruff voice speaks out to you as he tips his head to Furlan. You meet his soft gaze, and he winks playfully. Levi was wearing a snug, black long sleeve with even darker denim jeans. Your stomach flips as you force yourself to stare into Levi’s metallic eyes.

Waving them in the door, they follow suit and take their shoes off to place next to the pile already sitting by the door. Levi scoffs, no doubt annoyed by the messiness. You’re suddenly hyper aware of how dirty the apartment must look compared to his. After shutting the door behind them, you spin around and almost run right into Levi. You gasp in surprise and step back right into the door with a ‘thud’. Furlan was long gone, and you can hear his playful voice reverberating down the hall as he introduced himself to the rest of the company.

“Are you okay?” Levi asks, concern lacing into his deep voice. You laugh at yourself silently as he eyes you carefully. You nod and wave your hands dismissively at him to show you were indeed okay.

“Mm. I bought these for tonight. Where can I put them?” He shifts three large bottles of various sodas in his arms in awkwardness. His eyes avert from you as he speaks. You stare stunned for a moment as you realize he must have bought them specifically for you. Noticing you haven’t moved, his eyes shift back up to you with an eyebrow raised. Cracking a smile, you nod. The flips in your stomach hardly cease as you tip your head forward to signify where the kitchen was, passing him as well to lead the way.

After he places the bottles in the fridge, he closes the doors, and his eyes widen in surprise at the mess before him. You being you, there was flour everywhere and butter wrappers lie discarded by the mixer. Said mixer was surrounded by sugar from when you missed the bowl earlier. You look away sheepishly as you feel a hard stare at your face.

“Are you a toddler?” He asks, but there is no malice. It almost sounded as if he was amused.

Grabbing one of the wipe-off boards you placed in the kitchen earlier, you pop off a cap and start scrawling. 'Maybe.' Flipping it over to him with a shrug, you see the corners of his mouth twitch.

'Tea?' You point to your cluttered tea station. Levi turns to see an open tin of tea leaves and an empty kettle. He says nothing as he gets to work, doing it all before you can do anything. You gawk at his deft hands as he makes quick work of it all, like he was back in his cafe. Some of his hair fell in his face as his head hung low in focus. After gently placing the porcelain lid back on the pot, he turns back to you.

'You didn't have to do that, you know. I was mainly asking so I could start it.'

"Tch, I was already here. Besides, I'm probably faster at it." You can't argue on that, so you just shrug your shoulders at him again with a slight smile. He leans back against the kitchen counter and studies your face, and you feel your face bloom in heat. You place the board back down on the counter and point to your mess to show you were going to start back on the cookies. Tightening your hair buns, you then wash your hands and get back to work on the mixer, throwing in the ingredients as needed.

After a moment, you hear something rustling behind you and when you glance to the source, you see Levi pulling on the other apron that hung off the fridge. You stare at him curiously and he just tightens the drawstrings behind him as he meets your gaze.

"I'm helping." You hesitate but scoot over in response, and he steps up next to you. Your arms are almost touching, and it takes everything inside of you not to combust. So, you both get to work like that, side by side. The sounds of chatter and laughter from the rest of the group fade out as you both concentrate. You hand him the rest of the ingredients and he carefully pours them in the bowl. When everything is incorporated and set aside, you then measure out the other ingredients for the chocolate portion of the cookies. You don’t see it, but Levi just watches you patiently, admiring your meticulous yet messy way of making sure everything is accurate. When you glance up at him, he looks away quickly.

"Whatcha two up to?" A sly voice rings out after a while. Startled, you both jerk your heads up from the tray you two were placing raw dough cutouts on. It's Hange, leaning on the wall with their chin cradled in two cupped hands. They have a very cheeky grin plastering their face.

"What does it look like, Four-Eyes?" Levi snaps back dryly.

"Well, since you're asking me. It looks like you two are having fun." They wiggle their eyebrows at you and Levi just scoffs and averts his gaze. Your cheeks flare up again because you were definitely having fun, but you weren’t going to admit that. Hange tuts at you two and reaches over to pat you on the head lovingly.

"I just came over because you were both ignoring our calls." Looking over their shoulder, you see Erwin eyeballing you and Levi with a raised eyebrow. He takes a sip of his drink and looks away to keep talking to Moblit and Onyankopon. Nanaba, Furlan, and Miche broke out a deck of cards and are in the middle of a game of Poker.

'Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.' You sign to her, frowning.

"No worries, we were just wondering if you guys were hungry. We were thinking of pizza!" They clap their hands excitedly. They were always thinking of pizza, you laugh to yourself. Hange loves pizza so much that even the mere mention of its cheesy goodness would summon them right then and there. Your stomach rumbles just thinking about it as well, so you nod.

"I could eat." Levi states as he lifts his teacup to his lips, three fingertips on the rim. Him doing so reminds you of the cup Levi had poured for you that you had left to get cold. You lightly touch the sides of it, and it still feels warm. As you take a sip, you’re hit with the boldness of the leaf blend you had chosen as well as a perfect amount of sweetness. ‘Levi makes the best tea’, you think to yourself.

"Perfect, I'll get those ordered. We'll just stick to the basics, yeah?" She pulls out her phone and starts dialing the nearest pizza place while walking away to join everyone in the living room. Levi picks up the couple of trays filled with raw cookies and slides them into the pre-heated oven. When he turns around, you can't help but silently chuckle as you take a closer look at his face for the first time since you both started your venture.

There is a streak of cocoa powder on his forehead that starkly contrasts on his pale skin. You point to it and your shoulders bounce in silent laughter as he brings a hand up to it to rub the spot. His eyes go wide as he notices the brown powder that is now staining his fingers. He grabs the towel you had draped over the dishwasher to wipe it away, his ears turning pink. He turns away from you as he does.

You eye Levi as he folds the towel neatly and puts it back where he got it from, huffing under his breath. He then starts gathering the dirty dishes and piles them into the sink, tugging on the faucet to rinse them off. While he's busy on that, you begin wiping down the counters with a wet rag. Levi gives you a side-eye and you meet his gaze, giving him a warm smile. He looks away again to focus on a bowl he was currently spraying with hot water. As you stare at him for a second longer, you can’t help but think how well you two worked together.

You grab the board once more and write, ‘Thank you for your help. (:’ before flipping the board over to Levi as he dries his hands on the towel. His eyes trail the words, and he glances up at you with indifference.

“Mm.” He hums. His eyes flick over to the timer that was set on the stove as he leans back against the sink and takes another sip of his tea. The cookies had eight minutes left. It almost felt as if he was reading your mind because neither of you moved with the intention leaving the calm kitchen. When you look over to the living space, you see everyone talking over each other in lively conversation. Onyankopon is pointing at the small fish tank that sat nestled in the corner of the room as he shouts over to Hange, who is in the middle of cleaning off the coffee table.

“Hange, I didn’t know you had fish.” He bends down to take a closer look at the two little fish darting around shifting plants.

“Oh yes, they’re my little babies!” She stands straight up and jumps over to the tank and continues as she points at the respective tetras. “This one is Sonny and this one is Bean!” You can’t help but chuckle internally at your over enthusiastic sister. Ever since you both moved to Jinae, Hange really wanted pets. They had requested a dog, but they were too overwhelming for you. She wasn’t really around enough to be able to spend time with them anyways which meant most of it would fall on to you and you weren’t okay with that. So, you both compromised on her getting a couple fish to start out with and would think about the notion again later. Thus far, Hange has been very content with them and hasn’t asked for anything else.

“They’re gorgeous, Hange.” Onyankopon compliments as he stares at the tank. Hange slaps him on the shoulder in appreciation and starts rambling off the reasons why she chose tetras and all the research she did on them.

“That’s it, boys. I win!” Nanaba shouts from the dining table, slamming her cards onto the hard surface. Furlan and Miche groan in frustration, the latter rubbing his face in exhaustion.

“I swear you’re cheating.” Furlan sits back in his chair as he places his own hand down.

“I second that.” Miche leans over to stare at her cards and just sighs. Dejected, he gets up and wanders towards the bathroom, almost running into Erwin as he emerges from that same direction.

“C’mon guys, at least I vetoed any betting.” She calls out, smirking as she piles the cards up and starts shuffling them.

“You just did that out of pity.” Nanaba just cackles maniacally at Furlan’s dispirited comment.

“Hange, there are too many men in here.” She twists in her chair to face your sister who turns to acknowledge Nanaba’s complaint.

“Psh, I’ll drink to that.” And she does, holding her drink up in cheers and takes a big gulp. You roll your eyes, but you agree. There were way too many men in your apartment right now. Just then, there’s a knock at the door and Hange stands up quickly, face alert like a meerkat in the African wilderness.

“Pizza!” They yell and then they’re off to the front door, a wad of cash in hand.

At the same time, the timer goes off with a soft beeping and you’re quick to grab the oven mitts to pull the trays out. You gingerly place the trays on the stovetop to let them cool and Levi reaches past you to turn off the oven, his face in your periphery as you glance to the side. His movements waft his scent straight into your nose and you find yourself breathing it in deeply. He smelled of clean laundry with a hint of body wash. It isn’t overpowering in the slightest and you revel in it.

“You two are missing out on the fun cooping up in here.” Someone speaks out behind you two as they walk through the archway to the kitchen. You both jump at the voice and turn to see Erwin holding an armful of empty alcohol containers.

“Tch, it beats being surrounded by a bunch of loud mouths.” Levi counters, turning back to the cookies to inspect them. You reach over to grab the trash can and hold it up to Erwin for him to dump the trash. Hange comes in behind him and places four stacked pizza boxes on the counter next to you. You stare at your sister in awe and sign, ‘That’s a lot of pizza.’

“I know but I didn’t know how hungry everyone was. Besides! Leftovers.” They give another cheeky grin, and you just playfully punch her arm. Reaching up in the cupboard behind you, you grab a handful of plates for everyone as well a cup for you, now realizing how parched your throat was.

“Oi, grab me one too.” Levi asks next to you, so you grab another after setting what you held down first. When you turn to hand it to him, he’s a lot closer than you expected and accidentally hit him in the side of the head with the glass in hand. He doesn’t even flinch. He’s looking up at you with knit eyebrows and a thin line in place of his lips.

“Ow.” You hear Erwin and Hange stifling laughter as they organize the pizza boxes.

You set the cup down and start signing frantically, ‘I’m sorry.’ over and over again. You place both of your hands on his face and tilt it so you could get a better look at the spot where you hit him, filled with relief when you find no visible damage. You’re in such a panic that you don’t even notice his stunned disposition. Your hands feel so warm against his cool skin, and it’s so soft. You realize what you’re doing after a moment and let your arms drop to your side, mouthing an apology and stepping away from him.

“It’s fine. I didn’t realize how long your arms were.” He mumbles as he walks over to the fridge without another word, cup in one hand, his other pressing against the spot where you smacked him. How long your arms were? That was such a weird thing to say. Flustered, you grab the plates and shuffle them over to the counter with the pizza. Now that they have opened the boxes, you get a closer look at the options.

There were a couple cheeses, one pepperoni, and one pineapple. Your eyes light up and you gaze at Hange with adoration, forgetting what just happened mere moments ago. They wink at you then call for everyone to plate up ‘while it’s hot’.

Yes, you ate pineapple on your pizza. It first began as a joke just to spite those who turned it down, but then you found out you actually enjoyed the taste. There was something about the sweet and savory flavors that blended perfectly.

Levi comes over with two glasses and hands one with what looked to be a dark cola to you. You mouth a ‘thank you’ as you watch his face twist in disgust as he eyes the boxes in front of him. “Are those pineapples?” Levi leans in for a better look, eyebrows knit.

“Pineapples?!” Furlan rushes over from the table to look at the pizza, the new poker game forgotten. “Alright, who’s the one who asked for them?” He looks around the room and spots you with your hand raised in the air.

“Oh my gosh I could hug you right now. Pineapple on pizza is the best!” He exclaims. He leans over the half wall to marvel at it and then looks back up to you with a massive smile. Levi clicks his tongue and grabs a slice out of the cheese box then makes his way into the living room. You can’t help but feel sad at the sudden absence.

“Okay, okay. My turn. Hange. Your obsession with zombies, what the fuck is up with that?” Nanaba leans on the coffee table in anticipation. Your sister just cackles and sits up straight as they push their glasses up their nose with a finger. There’s a glimmer in their eyes.

“That’s hardly a difficult question. I grew up watching zombie movies and I just need to know how they tick. Like what kind of sorcery goes into making them do the things they do?!”

“Hange, they’re fictional creatures, there’s no science that could ever explain that!” Moblit shouts from next to her, exhausted. Hange just laughs and goes on a tangent about possible ways to make and cure zombies, but you zone out as it’s a conversation you have had with them for many years. Looking around the table, you smile to yourself. Tonight has been such a fulfilling evening for you. Being around familiar faces as well as getting to know new ones brought more joy to you than you expected. Not to mention this ridiculous game you were all playing that made your face ache from laughter.

Miche had come up with a game called “What the fuck is up with that?” as a way to wind down from such a big dinner. Players ask someone something personal about their life and follow it with ‘what the fuck is up with that?’ and if they refuse to answer it, they have to take a drink. It honestly felt like a more cracked version of “Truth or Dare” but it was fun, nonetheless. You, of course, nursed soda in your hands instead of alcohol so you were the most sober one here.

So far, no one was really trashed. Tipsy, definitely; There were some words that were starting to slur. What surprised you the most was Levi’s soberness in comparison to everyone else considering how many times he had to take a drink. It figures that any questions directed to him, he opted for silence. You do, however, notice his cheeks were ever so slightly flushed when you glance at him next to you. He radiated an aura of relaxation, which you can’t help but assume is a rare thing for him. He turns to meet your gaze, not looking away after what felt like a good minute.

“Okay okay, we get it Hange. Enough!” Your attention is snapped back into the present company, and you break eye contact to see Onyankopon laughing and throwing a balled-up napkin at Hange’s face to shut her up.

“Fine, sorry! Hmm…” Their eyes wander on the people sitting in the circle with them until they land on Furlan’s face. “Alright, Furlan. You! You’re single and you’re extremely attractive. What the fuck is up with that?” Everyone’s attention shifts to Furlan’s bright red face.

“What the fuck is up with the singleness or the attractiveness?” His voice sounds an octave higher.

“Well, both, obviously, dumbass.” Nanaba pitches in.

“I well. Uh.” His eyes flicker to yours and then look away just as quickly. “I just haven’t found what I was looking for yet, I guess. And for the attractiveness, I just am?” He shrugs his shoulders and laughs nervously. He takes a sip of his drink anyways as he averts his gaze to anything but the people in front of him.

“Hmmm. I don’t know if I’m okay with that answer, but I’ll let it slide. Okay, you pick the next one!”

“Oh okay, uhh.” His eyes travel around until they lock eyes with you again. “The berry nickname. What the fuck is up with that?” Everyone’s gaze now shifts on you. You realize that Hange had called you her ‘little berry’ in front of everyone but had never really given an explanation. You bite your bottom lip and start scrawling on your board. Everyone waits for you patiently and a wave of gratitude washes over you. They really were a great group of friends.

‘When I was younger, I used to steal Hange’s berries from their parfaits.’ You flip the board, and everyone is silent as they read. They burst into laughter one by one, Hange included. Even Levi’s scarred mouth has an upturn. You couldn’t give the full story because it would be too long for you to write, but growing up in the foster system meant you were deprived of a lot of good things, one of those being fresh fruit. So, when the night came when the Zoe’s officially adopted you and they wanted to celebrate with parfaits, you went absolutely feral. You had never tasted anything like fresh berries before and they quickly became your favorite thing in the world, next to your sister of course.

“You guys should have seen her for the month after that. All she wanted was berries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She prefers strawberries, but we don’t discriminate here. All berries are valid!” She yells, taking another sip of her drink. You laugh silently along with them and start thinking of the next victim. After a few moments, you scribble down what was on your mind. Then you point to Erwin and his eyes bulge at the sudden movement but straightens up anyways, clearing his throat.

‘So Erwin, I notice you’ve been taking my sister out for drinks quite often. Your relationship with them, what the fuck is up with that?” You smile innocently at your sister’s composed face.

“Psh, easy.” He pats your sister on the head and Hange just laughs in response, swatting at it. “You of all people know how fun she is to be around. More so when she’s drunk. She’s a great karaoke partner.” They clink the bottles they had in their hands together and smile at each other. You furrow your eyebrows and stick your tongue out.

‘Boooooooo.’ You write and your sister just shoves your shoulder.

“C’mon, you can’t seriously think there’s anything happening between this,” Hange wiggles their index finger in between her and Erwin. “Like really. We’re definitely not each other’s type.”

Miche snorts and mutters something under his breath but you can’t hear the words. Erwin chuckles and nods in agreement then takes another sip of his drink as he surveys the faces in front of him. They land on Levi and his gray eyes bore into Erwin’s crystal blue.

“Hey Levi…” Erwin has a smirk playing on his lips as he stares at his best friend. “I notice you’ve been smiling when you look down at your phone recently. What the fuck is up with that?” Erwin’s eyes sparkle mischievously. Levi just scoffs but you gawk at him with wide eyes, along with Furlan and Hange. Levi doesn’t smile. Sure, you can always tell when he’s fighting it. But you’ve never seen his curt demeanor break into joy.

Levi narrows his eyes on Erwin then answers with a big swig of his glass, finishing off the contents in it as he continues to stare at his friend. Levi’s face is certainly more flushed than before, the tips of his ears bright red as well. He looks away, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Booooooo!” Hange echoes what you had exclaimed earlier.

“Leeeeeviiii! Are you talking with someone?! I thought you were mine.” Furlan pouts, arms crossed.

“It’s none of your goddamn business.” Levi’s voice is brusque. He gets up from his spot quickly and takes his empty glass to the kitchen.

“What do you mean? I think your friends deserve to know.” Hange sits up on their knees to call over to Levi’s backside.

“Then we’re not friends.” He says and disappears down the hall to the bathroom.

“Is he always like that?” Nanaba questions as she finishes her own drink as she stares down the hallway.

“Yes, it’s very normal for him.” Erwin states matter-of-factly, chuckling at the rise he got from Levi.

“Short and angry. It’s quite the combo.” Onyankopon cuts in, grinning.

You fidget with the wipe-off marker as you think about how he reacted. It wasn’t very surprising to you. Levi is a very private man when it comes to such things. All of the conversations you had with him were still on a fundamental surface layer. You knew better than to ask anything deeper for fear of him shutting you out, like he just did with Erwin’s question. Levi, at least, didn’t sound angry right now, but you suspect it was because it was someone so close to him asking such a question. If it was you… then. Well, you were scared of what he might do from such an intimate question.

“Yanno what, it’s probably about that time I head out. It’s getting pretty late.” Moblit chimes in as he starts to get up from his spot on the floor.

“Whaaat!? We still have one more thing left to do. Besides, it’s literally,” Hange takes a glance at the clock on the wall. “10:30. Just a little longer??” They clasp their hands as they beg, staring up at her friend.

“I must agree with Moblit here, we need to submit our report before the end of this week.” Onyankopon replies as he gets up as well. He squeezes Hange’s shoulder as he speaks with a slight smile. Hange sticks her bottom lip out.

“Fine, fine. But just know, you’re missing out on only the greatest tradition ever: Making fun of stupid romance movies.”

“I wanna do that!” Nanaba cuts in, laughing at the idea.

“Nanaba, we’re literally your ride home.” Moblit calls out from the dining room as he pulls on his winter jacket. Grabbing Nanaba’s as well, he makes sure to pick up the deck of cards they brought and shoves it into her jacket pocket.

“Boo.” She gets up clumsily and huffs. “You two are no fun.”

“What she said.” Hange says, sticking her tongue out again.

“Seriously though, Hange. Great party. We had a really good time.” Onyankopon compliments as he zips up his own coat. At this point, everyone is standing up as they talk to each other. You glance over and notice that Miche is getting ready to leave too.

‘You’re going too?’ You scrawl to him quickly.

“Ah yes, unfortunately IT never takes a break.” He mutters to you solemnly as you go in to give him a tight hug. “Are we still on for next Wednesday?” You nod at him with a cheerful grin. “Great, I’ll see you then.” He ruffles your hair and walks past to say goodbye to everyone else.

After a few more goodbyes, it’s just you, Hange, Erwin, and Furlan standing in the living room. Your sister and Erwin were conversing about what movie to watch as Furlan shuffles up next to you. Levi still hadn’t come out of the bathroom yet.

“I bet he’s taking a shit.” His blasé statement makes you giggle uncontrollably, your shoulders shaking as you do. You hold your hand to your mouth to compose yourself as you give Furlan such a bewildered look. He just winks at you.

“Furlan, I’m going to kick your ass.” Levi’s sharp voice cuts in behind you both and it makes you both jump.

“Hey now, I was just kidding.” Furlan’s voice wavers as he takes a step back. You wave at Levi with a warm smile, but he just averts his gaze and goes to sit down on the sofa, one leg crossed on his knee. Biting your cheek, you go and find a spot on the floor, making sure to put a pillow under your butt for comfort. Hange and Erwin are flicking through a bunch of streaming apps trying to find the chosen movie for tonight.

“Ah okay, I know what we’re doing!” Hange slaps their hands together in finality. Erwin makes his way to the armchair and sits back with a heavy sigh.

“Not my first choice.” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“Oh c’mon. Everything about it screams bad romance. Plus, it’s the worst out of all of them.”

“Hange, you never cease to amaze me.” Furlan states as he takes the spot next to Levi.

Twilight: New Moon? Really? In your heart of hearts, you couldn’t completely hate Twilight as you were practically obsessed with it in your late teens. But you had to agree, it wasn’t the best out of the five films. It’s like Hange knew what you were thinking because they stare directly into your eyes and wiggle their eyebrows at you teasingly. You roll your eyes, and she chuckles.

“Move it, sis. I’m going for the spot behind you.” Hange slips past you to sit on the couch right next to Levi’s other side. You back up so you’re sandwiched in between Hange’s legs, and you yawn with the added warmth. You had a fleeting thought of not being able to finish the movie before falling asleep. How right you were. You don’t even make it past Bella’s dream sequence, drifting off into your own little world. The smell of clean laundry and musky body wash permeates your senses as you do.

Levi isn’t even paying attention to the movie. Even if it was something he was interested in, his focus could not be kept on the screen. Levi felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest as he felt the weight of you leaning against his bad leg. Your soft cheek pressed into his knee while you slept soundly. His joints have been aching for the last hour, but he would sooner touch fire before disturbing you. He couldn’t see your face very well from this angle, but he could only assume how peaceful you looked right now. Your hair is still in buns, but they were much messier than before from the activities of the day, hair falling every which way.

As you sighed softly in your sleep, his mind raced with everything that had happened today. From the ecstatic look in your eyes when you opened the front door to when you had gently cradled his head in your warm hands after hitting him on accident, making sure you didn’t hurt him. He still felt tingles of your touch shooting through his nervous system from that. And making cookies with you, he had more fun than he could admit. You were so meticulous and careful, albeit chaotic in your ways. He found it so endearing.

Then that damn Erwin asking that stupid question. Erwin knew and still egged him on. Of course, it was you; you were the reason why his heart and stomach did flips whenever he heard his phone vibrate. He wouldn’t allow anyone to know that though, especially you. Not when you already seem so entwined in other people’s lives.

Levi hadn’t missed Furlan’s interest in you. His longtime friend often stated that he wanted to get to know you even more. Not to mention Furlan’s tactless ways of wanting to include you in everything he made plans to do. It seemed as if you weren’t aware of his intentions though, so maybe he wasn’t clear enough. Levi hopes you never pick up on it.

And of course, there was Miche. What kind of relationship did you have with him? Levi didn’t mishear how you had plans with him next week. And the intimate touching? What was that all about? The relationship with Miche did not seem romantic from his viewpoint, but then again.

Levi was never the jealous type, or so he thought. He found that any attention aimed at you ruffled him. What about you made him feel like this? He scoffs under his breath, not able to look away from the back of your head. Hange stops munching on the cookie in her hands and turns at the sound, now noticing you fast asleep on Levi’s knee.

“Want me to take her for you?” They whisper to Levi, shifting to stand up.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want you to miss out on prime Eduardo and Beatrice or whoever the fuck these people are.” Levi waves his hand dismissively and carefully gets up, making sure to move your head so it doesn’t flop forward. “Which one is her room?” He asks as he stares down at Hange. They regard him in curiosity but smile regardless.

“The door with the sakuras on them.” Levi nods and bends down to effortlessly pick you up despite his smaller frame, cradling you as your head falls back. You’re deeply asleep at this point, he assumes, because you make no motion from the disturbance. Levi feels the stares from Furlan and Erwin as he steps over everyone to make it to the set of bedroom doors down the hall.

As he delicately places you on your bed, he starts to pull the soft comforter up to cover you but then you shift in your sleep, making him pause. With the confirmation of your sleep-induced heavy breathing, he pulls the blanket up the rest of the way and takes a long look at your soft features. The peace that radiated off your face was something he delighted in. How beautiful you were to him.

On his way out, he steps slowly to the door, being mindful of his surroundings as he goes. He spots a couple of framed pictures that littered your cluttered desk. One catches his eye in particular; It’s a photo of when you were very young, maybe 5 or so. He takes a step forward for a closer look, minding the creaking floorboards carefully. An unsettling feeling runs cold in his veins as he recognizes the family that surrounded you as well as the house in the background. He knew that family and he knew that house, and he came to realize he knew you as well.

A flashback hits him like a brick. One of him and the boy in the photo, your brother, playing outside until the sunset. Of you yelling for him with your small voice that it was time for dinner and that he needed to come home. Of your little pigtails completely askew as you cried after falling on the gravel due to a skateboard accident from when him and your brother tried to teach you how to balance on it. Of him giving you a flower to distract you from the pain and your bleeding kneecaps. Of having to move away because his good for nothing father threatened his mom and Levi had warned him to try. Of you and your family waving goodbye as he stared from the rear window, the view of your tear-streaked face getting smaller and smaller as his mom drove away.

He had forgotten all about you, and it seemed you had forgotten about him. A breath hitches in his throat and he turns to look back at you, your face scrunched up from a dream as you pull the blankets closer. No wonder he felt compelled to you, almost like he needed to protect you. With a soft sigh, he creeps slowly to the door and slips out before shutting it close behind him.

You roll over in your sleep, sighing again, the night of the fire haunting your dreams.

☾ Previous Chapter: January ☾ Next Chapter: March

36 notes · View notes

ghostofskywalker · 1 year

Text

Not Just For Show

Echo/Fem!Reader

Words: 1,924

Summary: While on a mission for the Republic, you and Echo get a lot closer than originally expected. You're definitely not complaining though, because his lips are really soft.

Prompts: "you're a horrible liar" and "who cares what they all think?"

Note: this fic is part of the @cloneficgiftexchange, which i ran! these prompts came from @fives-lover, and i hope you enjoy my interpretation :)

Clone Troopers Masterlist

“Do you see anything?” you asked as you leaned in closer to Echo, voice pitched low so you wouldn’t catch the attention of any prying ears. There was a consistent buzz throughout the room of the bar, and your eyes moved along the perimeter of it, taking in the different people who were supposedly here to have a good time.

He shook his head. “No, and I doubt that we’re going to be able to find what we’re looking for if we stay in this booth all night.”

As your partner for this mission, Echo was also keenly aware that if the two of you did not figure out where the leaking of Republic intel was coming from (and sources say it was coming from this bar), then it would set the rest of the mission back indefinitely, as well as put the lives of countless clones, Jedi, and other officers at risk. You had been assigned to work together to figure out who was selling these secrets, making sure that they were caught and that one less danger was weighing on the shoulders of those fighting for an important cause.

You nodded, knowing that he was right. “Should we split up then? You take one side of the room and I’ll take the other?”

“That sounds like a plan.”

With one more shared look, you slipped out of the booth and began to circle the perimeter of the room, keeping your eye out for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Thankfully the bar was on your side of things, so you were able to stop and get yourself something to drink without taking your eyes off the other patrons for too long.

But even after splitting up and spending some time wandering around, you were still at a loss for who might be the one selling Republic secrets. All the intel pointed towards this place and this night, so where were the signs? You caught Echo’s eye from across the room, and the look on his face tipped you off that he was faring no better than you right now.

He looked strikingly attractive right now, even all the way across the room. You had never seen any of the clones without their armor before, and the civvie clothes that had been picked out for him were certainly flattering in a way that plastoid plates weren’t. The pants and shirt fit him like a glove, which you supposed was a side effect of working in an army full of identical men: you didn’t have to worry about things not fitting as much as you would with an army full of people of different shapes and sizes.

Get you mind out of the gutter, that little annoying voice in your head said. You’re on a mission right now, you can’t keep thinking about how much you want to kiss your fellow operative.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to be dreaming about Echo like this in the middle of a mission, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. He didn’t know how you felt about him, no one did, but lately those feelings had only been growing, and it was only a matter of time before someone wised up and figured it out. This was one of the only times you would get to see him like this without any of the 501st watching, so you fully intended to stare at him for as long as you could get away for it.

The comm device on your wrist flashed a new message from Captain Rex, asking if you were having any success yet. You quickly responded in the negative before walking over to Echo. “We have to figure something else out,” he said. “This isn’t working.”

You nodded as an idea popped into your head, and you grabbed his hand before you could stop yourself. “Come on,” you said, pulling him in the direction of the dancefloor. “Maybe a more central location will help us figure something out.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Echo asked as you stopped and turned towards him. The feeling of his hand in yours was enough to make you want to melt right then and there, but you managed to keep your legs standing.

It must have been the liquor in the drink you ordered, because your response was a lot bolder than you usually would have been. “What? You’re saying you don’t want to dance with me?”

“More like I’m saying I have two left feet,” he said, but your encouraging smile finally had him moving closer and starting to sway along to the music.

You thought the feeling of his hand in yours was perfect, but it was already being dwarfed by the feeling of his hand on your waist. You were trying to see what was going on around the bar, but the smell of Echo’s soap was distracting, and you were starting to regret this choice of cover. Because while one part of you was shouting with glee and telling you to lean in and kiss him, there was another part of you that was desperately trying to focus on the task at and.

“Echo,” you said after a few moments of dancing with him. “You’re horrible liar, you know that?”

“What?’ Echo looked affronted and confused, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from you.

“You definitely don’t have two left feet,” you said.

“I will have to disagree with you there,” he said. “Dancing has always been Fives’ thing more than mine, I always felt more awkward at 79’s than anything else.”

“And do you feel awkward now?”

Echo paused before responding. “No, but this is different. It’s always easier to be someone else when you know it’s all for show.”

You nodded, only slightly pained at the implication that he was only dancing with you to keep up the ruse, and not because he actually wanted to. “Nice to know I mean that much to you then, trooper.”

Echo’s eyes widened as he realized how his words sounded. “No!” he said. “I wasn’t trying- I didn’t mean- I just-”

You laughed again, and his face relaxed a little. “Don’t worry,” you said. “I’m only busting your shebs, I know what you meant.”

He let out a comedic sigh of relief, and you couldn’t help the way your smile grew. “If it means anything,” he said. “I think the reason my dancing isn’t so terrible right now is because you’re here.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever gone this long without stepping on someone’s foot while dancing,” he said. “And I can’t help but wonder if it’s because you’re so good at this.”

Your brain was practically mush right now, there was no coming back from this. “I think you’re just underestimate yourself,” you managed to get out.

Whatever Echo was going to say would have to wait, because you spotted a shifty-looking Rodian man over his shoulder. You didn’t even need to say anything before Echo caught on, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Do you see something?”

You nodded, watching as the man looked around the room and then headed in the direction of the side door. “Follow me,” you whispered back, grabbing Echo’s hand and moving towards the exit.

“You know,” his voice was soft as he walked next to you. “With the show we just put on while dancing, people around here are going to talk.”

“So?” you asked, the glint in your eye telling him that you absolutely knew what people would assume. “Who cares what they all think?”

By the time you got out the side door, the Rodian wasn’t in your view any longer, but you could hear muffled voices just around the corner.

“What are we going to do?” Echo whispered urgently. “It’s not like we can walk into view and say we’re looking for Republic secrets!”

Truth be told, you hadn’t exactly thought about that yet. And once you did start thinking about it, you realized that you had another issue: even out of his armor, Echo was pretty kriffing recognizable as a clone trooper. But you didn’t really have time to really think this whole thing out, especially not as you realized the voices were getting closer and closer to where you were.

“Echo,” you whispered as you stared at him. “I have an idea, but you’re going to have to play along.”

He nodded, and even though you wished you had more time to fill him in on the plan, you didn’t. You placed both your hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss, situating yourself so that you covered him as much as you possibly could.

Thankfully, Echo seemed to realize what was happening, and he played along as he placed his hands on your waist, holding you close to him. Yes, this was all for show, and yes, this was really nothing but chaste kiss of disguise, but there was something about the feeling of his lips against yours that you found exhilarating.

You could hear mutters around you as the Rodian and whoever he was speaking to passed you by, but you didn’t move. As long as he didn’t realize you were onto him, he could judge whatever he thought you were doing out here all he wanted.

When the coast was clear and the door to the bar was swinging shut, you pulled away from Echo. Trying to ignore the way his lips looked slightly swollen and the way his eyes held an emotion you couldn’t quite place, you had to get back to business. “We need to contact Rex,” you said. “I think we have our guy.”

Echo just nodded, and you quickly sent Rex the description of the Rodian, as well as the few snippets of conversation that you heard right before you got a little, ahem, distracted. Since this was only a reconnaissance mission, technically your job was done and all you had to do was wait for someone to pick you both and take you back to the Resolute.

What was going to happen now? Had you crossed a line when you kissed him? The thoughts ran rampant in your brain, and you knew that everything had changed when your lips touched his. “Look, I don’t want to make things weird between us now,” you said.

Echo looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Because I kissed you,” you said. “I know we’ll just let everything go back to normal and-”

You were definitely not expecting for him to cut you off. “What if I don’t want things to go back to normal?”

Resisting the urge to pinch yourself (so you could decide whether or not this was really happening), you just stared at him. “What?”

“I really like you,” he admitted quietly. “And I would really like to kiss you for real, not just when we need to hide my face and blend in.”

“I really like you too,” you said, desperately hoping that this wasn’t some amazing dream that you would wake up from any second. “And I’d also really like to kiss you again.”

He obliged almost immediately, and no more words were exchanged between that moment and the time that Jesse and Fives picked you up on a speeder and headed back to the Resolute. As you wrapped your arms around Echo’s waist and held on, you couldn’t help but feel excited about where your new relationship was going to go.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#CFGE23 #clone trooper echo x reader #arc trooper echo x reader #arc trooper echo #arc trooper echo x you #echo x reader #echo x you #echo x female reader #clone trooper x reader #clone wars fanfiction #star wars x reader

145 notes · View notes

from-memphis-with-love · 18 days

Text

Gambling on Your Love - Ch. 8

Summary: Francesca throws herself fully into a new project, all the while struggling with loneliness and unfulfilled desires. Elvis battles the demons of fame and addiction and goes back to making mediocre films, reminiscing about what could have been. A chance phone call sets the scene for the possibility of a reignited flame. Word count: 8,200 Warnings: Emotional distress; heartache; brief mentions of substance abuse. Catch up with Francesca and Elvis in previous chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven.

If New York was the city that never slept, Francesca could only think of Phoenix as the city that never cooled. For all its sunny beauty, fine cuisine and fast living: it was a sweltering mess. The humidity had her hairdresser working overtime on set to keep her updo inflated with hairspray.

The script for her new film had gone through changes along with her. She’d arrived looking for a new direction and the picture inadvertently transitioned too. Just the name had been washed and rinsed now about seven times. Flames of Fury. Flames of Retribution. Rising from the Ashes. Now there was a twist. The newly widowed lead, Roxy Flare, wasn’t just a housewife spiraling into a pit of despair and grief. Now, she’d crossed paths with the notorious mob boss tied to her husband’s supposed accidental death. It was morphing from cerebral drama to gritty thriller. She rather liked it.

Francesca never felt more focused on set, although she never felt more out at sea in her personal life. She went home to a townhouse in the suburbs, a lowkey location to keep off the map of the local paparazzi. Every now and then, one trickled in, but her house blended seamlessly in with the rest of the narrow lot cookie cutter houses. Hers was delightfully blue, complimenting the other rainbow hues swatching the uphill street.

Inside, she’d barely unpacked a thing. The walls were blank. Her floors, bare. Her steps echoed loudly in the empty house. Her cat had been unnerved, but got used to it rather quickly. Frannie wondered when it would start to feel like home for her too. But after a few weeks where she could barely bring herself to hang a set of curtains, she got into a slight groove. Then came a knock at the door.

That sound startled her. Only a few people knew of her new address and number: her immediate family and Dominick. She’d had her mail forwarded to a PO box. So, when a courier with a package tapped his foot on the porch, Frannie wondered if he possibly had the wrong address.

She opened the door. Beside the courier, a tall crate, notched with head-high holes. When she squinted into the darkness, she could see something moving inside. Startled, she didn’t notice the courier handing her a clipboard.

“Could you sign here? I can’t mark it as delivered otherwise.”

Frannie signed her name, peering at the sheet. Sure enough, it was addressed to her. A receipt of delivery for one: EXOTIC IMPORT. Er… what on Earth had made its way to her door?

Now the courier had a thick packet of papers for her.

“Wait, what's this?” She thumbed through them, letting him push the crate through the door, minding the hardwood as he sat it down. The papers were import records, vaccine certifications, and care instructions. Fluttering sounded from inside the box. “Do you know who sent this?”

The young man shrugged. “Dunno, ma’am, sorry. Whoever ordered it didn’t bother putting a return address on it. To be honest with you, I’m just glad to finally have it out of my van.”

He shook her hand, leaving her to the care of her new guest. Her cat sniffed around the edge of the crate. A clicking noise resounded from inside. Looking around for something to start shimmying the planks open with, the rattling of a hinge queued her into the latch at the top. Hesitantly, she unthreaded the silver bar and the door swung open. Before she could peer inside, whatever inhabited the space rushed out in a flurry.

Francesca recoiled. A wash of crimson and azure flashed before her eyes. An ear ratcheting squawk emanated in her echoing halls. Her cat took off, hiding safely from the stairway, keeping a close eye on the situation. The creature that’d been unceremoniously stuffed inside of the ill fitted box, now covered in crap and feathers, fanned out her beautiful wings, preening them.

It was a parrot. A large one at that, with black eyes that saw straight through her as it whimsically chattered, nibbling at itself, keeping her in its sight. Its beak was stark white against a vibrant plumage. She could see the fear in its eyes, which upon approach, she realized were not straight onyx, but moon yellow surrounding inky irises that narrowed and expanded. It’d perched on the back of her settee, its claws curling with loud pops into the fabric.

Sofly, she continued to close the distance between her and the bird. It was large enough and perhaps even frightened enough to do serious damage to her. This poor thing had been squeezed inside of a narrow crate with no food for who knows how long while it was shuttled off to live in a strange new home, in a totally foreign environment. Weren’t these beautiful things from the tropics? Again, she had to wonder who on Earth had sent this to her? Was this supposed to be a gift?

“It’s all right,” Francesca assured, gently extending out her hand to the bird. Its wings fanned open defensively, and she noticed that their length was distorted. They must have been clipped at some point. Another pang in her heart for this unfortunate soul. Then, it began to voice its displeasure with loud hawking crows. The sound was ear piercing, reverberating in her head. Relentless! It had to be hungry.

Suddenly, her day was filled with purpose, with routine. She bought seed from the store, specialized for large birds. She purchased some little jingly bells and a chain with a tiny mirror and shiny trinkets to pick at. Treats, vitamins. Birds needed supplemental nutrition, right? She couldn’t imagine being satisfied with a dusty bag of seeds.

Gertrude, emphasis on the rude, was the name she deemed fitting for the screechy little lady. For weeks, Frannie didn’t get enough peace because Gertrude simply wouldn’t stop cawing. Like a colicky baby, the noise, the squawking, it never ceased. She was lost on the idea that parrots knew words; this one simply knew how to scream. But, she was rather beautiful. And Frannie liked to admire that beauty as Gertrude sat atop her window perch, when her eyes were focused on the dogwalker outside or the mail being delivered, children running down the street—there was a fascination and sadness in the creature she related deeply to. Those quiet moments were growing longer and one day, after a particularly hard day filming with her fickle director, the two of them reached an understanding.

“Hmmm, that’s not it, now play it more melancholy,” Nolan James had asked, like it wasn’t her 11th take. Her feet were starting to ache in those gaudy, spiked heel boots. She longed for the solitude of home. For warm, brawny arms to wrap around her and tell her that it would be all right, that she was fussing over nothing. Take a vacation about it, darling, buy some jewels to feel better.

She longed for him. Oh, how she missed him.

Gertrude flew over, the sound so much louder than anyone could have prepared her for. Like a copter closing distance. She barely flinched now as her attention was rapt on a People Today article about Elvis’ new film promos. They seemed terribly formulaic, like his agent had put him back up for the highest bidder. It wasn’t what she’d want for him, certainly not what he seemed to crave on the set of Gambling on Your Love. There, he seemed determined, vigorous, driven, ready to cut his chops on something with more substance.

Filming on his new pictures was already wrapping up, whereas Frannie’s had another few months before hitting editing, at least. It didn’t bode well for him. She’d go see it, regardless of the pang in her heart when she saw his handsome face in a small shot of the movie’s ad poster. A cheesy back-to-back pose with an actress she didn’t recognize and Elvis, grinning at the camera. Love Me Tender, Love Me Alien. She chuckled at the absurdity. He was holding a ray gun.

Wings fluttered aside her and Gertrude’s claws popped in and out of the settee fabric as she inched closer to see what had Frannie so engaged. She leaned in, tilting her head, zooming with her right eye before chittering. It was the closest she’d come to her, and nearer still she inched until her warm body was pressed against the side of Frannie’s head. Before she knew it, the bird had stepped cautiously down onto her shoulders, making her wince at the sharpness of talons finding purchase. She allowed Frannie to stroke her chest and to feed her. Slowly, it graduated from the occasional preen to a spoiled neediness.

Gertrude liked to stay on Frannie’s shoulder. To pull at long strands of her hair and cleave the ends sneakily, letting little clippings fall all around the house. She loved to peck and nibble at Frannie’s earrings. Her humor didn’t shy away in the presence of guests, and she was happy to dance with Frannie to her favorite records.

In time, Frannie learned that wings must be clipped occasionally, or else they’ll grow back. But she didn’t mind at all. Now, Gertrude was a more elegant flier than ever. She was messy, still loud, and beautiful. Obediently learning words and short phrases.

She knew how to call the cat for dinner time, so that was a fun fussy debate she had to struggle through. “No, no, I know. It’s not fair, but don’t blame me. Gertrude outwitted us both.”

Still, she had to wonder who had sent Gertrude into her life. It was a beautiful distraction from the heartache. Her bed was still so, so terribly empty. She reached out across from herself to splay her hand in the coolness. Thinking of him was something she needed… and couldn’t stop. Tears misted her eyes as she lay alone holding onto her pillow, where if she buried her face deep and used a pinch of wishful thinking, she could just get a whiff of his cologne, clinging on for dear life.

She ought to call him, but looking at her phone, sitting pretty and quiet, unrung like her ring finger, she resisted the urge. What would she even say to him? Not only did she feel a pang in her chest at the thought of him, but for him. She’d left him quite quickly and quite distraught, with almost no explanation. And then the… thing that happened.

Reaching for a glass of water instead, she tried to focus her mind elsewhere, anywhere but the pain that seemed to settle in whenever she was still. So instead, she kept moving, jumping up so fast that Gertrude squabbled. She must keep busy with something. A distraction.

The filming process itself for Flames of Fury had been rocky but all in all, much smoother than the ups and downs on the set of Gambling for Your Love—but her truest performance, her heart and soul, had been poured entirely into that movie. She’d brought more than her everything each day. Having Elvis as friendly competition only fueled her to do that much better. They truly had been magic together.

Elvis slumped in the jacuzzi with a swarm of pills floating through him like champagne bubbles, while a girl named Champagne poured him some more cola. He was lost, looking out at the California skyline, mesmerized by the pulsing lights while he sipped slowly, downing some uppers to stable his mood. He couldn’t feel so low when he was surrounded by his crew, women, good music, drugs and food.

But with laughter all around him, echoing in his ears and growing duller by the second, he felt alone. Even in hot rolling water, California wind blowing through his hair, his thoughts were about her, only her.

Francesca had done a number on him.

Joe patted a buddy on the back, gently ushering a lady aside and telling her about the open bar upstairs, he’d join her later.

“Hey. You ain’t uh, looking so good. Sure you’re doing okay?” Joe splashed around in the water. “This steam making you dizzy or something? Talk to me. Hello?” He snapped his fingers and Elvis grinned, shoving them away.

“M’fine, I’m fine,” he slurred, clearing his throat, looking his friend in the soulful eyes. “Thank you, Joe.”

Unbelieving, his friend motioned for Red to come over. Now it was going to be a whole big thing and he didn’t want to deal with another round of their pep talks. He understood it. He appreciated it. He knew he shouldn’t be moping around in his misery, but here he was. Enjoying it in some sick way. It was the pain that proved he really loved her. Loved her right now just as much as yesterday and tomorrow. If he could just see her again, hold her in his arms. Smell her hair. Tell her how sorry he was for whatever he’d done. He’d take her back in a second, tell the whole world that he loved her. They were going steady. He was going to marry her.

“Not even gonna ask. Let’s get you out of the water buddy, you’re looking real… lax right now.” Red didn’t wait for his response, he just looped one brawny arm underneath his friend’s and lifted him up out of the pool. Water sloshed across the cement. The boys wrapped a towel around him.

He wandered inside and didn’t bother changing clothes as he sat still on the couch. This was his costar’s afterparty. Mitzy didn’t throw small bashes either, but Elvis stayed for the after-after party because he didn’t want to go home to his hotel room. Even the glitziest of suites had lost its charm after a few months of taking spurting, hot-cold showers and eating insipid dishes made by an overworked chef. But the service staff were sublime and heavy-handed tips always made the attendants’ eyes bright. He loved seeing that in someone, because he wasn’t getting much of that lately at all. He’d had it when he’d looked at his Francesca.

Elvis wouldn’t let himself fall to tears in front of the boys, but to say he was still torn up about it would be an understatement.

Mitzy Marvel walked in. Adult film actress-made-Hollywood star. She was up and coming to say the least, and a very hard worker… but that’s what worried him about her. Acting was coming easier to him, it had started to when he’d been on stage with Frannie. Mitzy seemed to struggle with finding her footing. This was her first big gig and he had a sneaking suspicion that she’d slept her way in with how nervous she was. Maybe it was just because he was Elvis Presley, but there was a naive wobbliness to her performance. Endearing but nothing compared to Francesca’s heart pounding rounds. She could deliver the same song without losing a bit of enthusiasm, straight from the chest, every time. Just like that. It was something he didn’t just admire—it was something he’d aspired to be.

It gutted him even more still that Gambling on Your Love would remain in this beautifully perfect limbo. All it needed was one more scene, a finale to tie it off and she was good as gold. He’d dreamed of seeing it in theaters with his crew. With Frannie on his arm, pointing out their little nods and glances, knowing the real fire behind the flames on set.

Elvis burned for her.

Joe grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look at him as he said in earnest, “Man, you’ve got to get a grip. This woman has ripped your heart clean out, by God. Don’t let her have any more of you. You’ve got to stop thinking about the past. It’s over. It’s done. She’s probably moved on by now—”

“Don’t say that,” Elvis hiccupped.

“So should you. You gotta do something for yourself. Live a little. Relax. Go on a date. Go back to a girl’s place. Bring her back to yours. Do something, other than all this moping.”

“Joe,” Red murmured.

“I’m just sayin’.”

Billy loudly vomited over the second level banister, and they all glanced back. Champagne was rubbing his back, Mitzy was wondering who gave him that much. She waved prettily at Elvis, her hair sprayed blonde curls glittering.

Elvis couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the life they could have had together if only she’d given him a chance. He would have taken such good care of her. Of their child.

These were the emotions he tried to avoid with partying and drugs, but some nights, it just made it so much worse. He’d had rougher ones, where he’d lain curled up like an infant in the shower, the light off because it hurt his eyes and made his head throb. Where he had to drag himself from the bathroom floor and into his bed. Never had he considered himself a lightweight, but something about the pain spiraled more pain.

He clutched at his chest, reclined his head and shut his eyes. Thinking about the night breeze cutting through his hair, the milk light of moon swatching a path for them to follow along dark highway roads, shining brighter than diamonds. Campfires reflecting in her gorgeous jewel eyes. The taste of her ruby lips.

When he awoke, it was sometime in the early morning, just after sunrise. He had to move slowly or else the pudding in his head would just leak out of his ears.

He recalled the boys trying to drag him off the couch, but he wouldn’t budge, slipping deeper into his self-loathing. It was what he’d gotten used to by now.

With the sun beaming mercilessly into his pinpoint pupils, rocking his head with ice pick stabbing pulses, Elvis winced with every step as he and the boys made their way to the car. He wasn’t feeling up for it at all, but he didn’t like cruising passenger and managed to throw himself into the driver’s seat. He gripped the wheel.

Back in his penthouse suite, where he had grown rather bored of, Elvis saw the blinking red light of hope twinkling on his answering machine. He raced over to answer it. It could be her. He still couldn’t track her down. She was somewhere in Phoenix, still filming. He knew the movie was a thriller and foolishly had no songs written for her. She was already branching out, while their debut film rested peacefully in an editing room, just waiting to be finished.

He pressed play, listening with all his heart, to a familiar voice. But it wasn’t Frannie on the other end of the receiver, it was Cassandra Morgan.

“Hey, Presley, it’s Cassandra. I can’t get in touch with Francesca, but I’m sure you can just tell her for me. Ahh, look, I don’t know how done with Gambling you are, but I’ve never stopped thinking about just how electric you two were on camera. I’d give anything to have you two back here in the studio for a little reunion. We can really give this picture what it deserves. I’m sure that you’d like to see it on the big screen, too. Well, just, gimme a call when you get this message. Bye.”

Francesca did not avoid her phone, per se, she just tastefully ignored it. But today, the tone was that of resolve as it rang for her attention. She felt out of body as she reached for the phone, clasping the bakelite to her ear, listening to static. Had he found her? Did she want him to? She wasn’t breathing.

“Frannie? Hellooo?” It was Dominick. She hadn’t even heard him.

“Yes, yes, good evening, Dominick. What kind of trouble are you getting into lately?”

She could hear his smile when he said, “Only the good kind. How’ve you been? How’s it going on set?”

“We’re almost done, I can see the finish line. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired from wearing heels, but these skyscrapers they have me in for some of these scenes are killing my poor ankles.”

“Hardest working ankles in Hollywood. You be sure to pamper yourself.” He lit a cigarette, closing the zippo with a sturdy sliding clack. “You’re your number one asset.”

“So I’ve heard,” she teased, filling up Gertrude’s tray with fresh nuts and seeds, a few veggies from her lunch salad. She happily chittered in response.

“What’s that? You keeping chickens now? I knew you’d tire of the glitz and glam and turn to something rustic and homesteady.”

“You know me too well, Dominick.” But she also knew him well enough that his well-fare calls were usually few and far between. He had something up his sleeve, she was just waiting on him to dish it out.

After a little pause of staticky silence, he said, “So, your old friend Cassandra Morgan rang me up the other day,” he took a long drag. “You’ll never guess what she wanted.”

Well, Frannie had more than a hint. But she’d play along. “She’s directing a new movie and wants me as the lead?” A girl could dream. Cassandra’s screenplays were the stuff of literary dreams on paper and played even better on screen.

“Hmm. Not quite. In fact, it’s a little closer to your heart than that. She pleaded for another shot with you. One more chance to have you and Elvis on stage together to patch up her unfinished vision.”

When Frannie didn’t immediately answer, Dominick put forth his own opinion. “For a second, let me step away as your agent—not all the way of course—and talk to you as down to Earth as I can, Frannie. Would you listen to an old friend when he says this would be good for you?”

Good for her? Her heart was already pounding at the thought of being on that beautiful, cursed set again. To rip another priceless dress? To wind up in the hospital once more? Who would poison her with what next? Or would her trust be totally violated by the man that she loved?

“I just… don’t think I can see it that way, Dominick. I’ve had fun. I did, I really did love every second. It was magical. But it came at such a hefty price, I just can’t seem to… to wrap my head around how I would begin to trust him again.”

“You know he’s done nothing but look for you ever since you left? He called me until I warned him I’d change my number if he didn’t drop it. I’m not saying you gotta trust the guy, but every time he pleaded with me, well, it sounded as desperate as Casandra, begging for you two once again.”

These are things she both hated and loved to hear. That he’d tried to get in touch with her. Had he gone to her empty apartment, knocking on an unanswered door in hopes that she would give him another chance?

“I have faith, Frannie, that he’ll take this just as seriously as you do. Besides,” he took a final long drag from his cigarette. “I know you haven’t unpacked those boxes you’re probably surrounded by.”

Alright, he got her there. “Tell Cassandra that I will think about it. Emphasis on think.”

“You’ve got my word. She’ll be happy to just hear a response, I’m sure. Well, take care Frannie. And let me know when you’re wrapping up filming, I’ll come to the premiere of Flames of Retribution.”

“Er, Fury,” she politely corrected. Not that she could blame him with how many tweaks and stitches the meat of the film had gone through, name included. But even for the hiccups, it was still like swimming in the kiddie pool compared to the catastrophic always-on-her-toes intensity of Gambling on Your Love. Although, maybe that was just the nature of her and Elvis’s relationship.

Could she face seeing him again? Not that she didn’t see him every day, hear him every day, think about him every day. Dream about him most nights. Ah, especially those balmy beach getaway dreams where Elvis laid her out underneath a cabana in the sun and made love to her all evening until the sunset and the tide came back in. Or the simpler, more painful ones, that let her perceive a glimpse of the life she could have had with him. All too domestic, just fantasies. She couldn’t be a doting housewife right now, not when her career was just starting to really take off. One day, perhaps. But she’d always worried in the back of her mind while she and Elvis were together, that that is exactly what he wanted. A sultry housewife to come home to that kept the place clean and their children well behaved. How excited he had been at the sudden prospect of a baby coming into their life. All things she couldn’t afford to think about right now!

Her co-star, Billy Flynn, the innocent eldest son of the mafia boss, was no Presley. Or that was to say, she and him had no chemistry. Not that the director seemed to notice. It seemed to play better for her stoic character for her to be less attached, distancing herself to keep her heart from truly being given to another. Playing it safe. He was kind and he read his lines well, played his parts marvelously. In short, there was nothing lacking about his performance, other than he simply wasn’t Him.

Can’t Help Falling in Love made her pull over one night on the drive home. She’d found a dark stretch of highway away from the doming glow of the city lights, where the stars were just visible. She shut the car off, reclined back in her seat and opened the sunroof to gaze up at the dotted night sky. The tears streamed down her face before she even realized.

In a few weeks, the red carpet roll out of Flames of Fury was a smashing success. Women wanted to be Roxy and men wanted to be with her. She was a dynamite dame with a sense of justice and loyalty that just resonated with the heart strings of so many.

The showings for Love Me Alien were all taken down as the next season’s films came into rotation. There she was, billed at the top, her name in flashing lights. Her sister was wrapped in a warm fur coat that she’d bought her, her neck shining with jewels, all the things she’d wanted for her since she’d begun carving her own way. Her father and brothers cut handsome figures in smartly tailored tuxedos. The only one missing was her mom, for whom she said a silent prayer. Champagne flowed into fragile stems and she didn’t know if it was the drink inducing the apathy—but she just didn’t feel… quite as high as she’d hoped.

The crowd gave her a standing ovation. Billy Flynn asked in her ear if they could get dinner afterwards and she politely but firmly reclined. Posters of her were around every corner, billboards, television ads. She’d dutifully attended her press conferences with her costars, smiling her winning smile and keeping her answers cool and concise. They ate up her every word, and yet something was missing. It just felt like her entire world had shifted and she was only a few millimeters off course, but dizzied and stranded, nonetheless.

Francesca peeked out of her little townhouse to see paparazzi had indeed made their way to her. Someone must have followed her home, or maybe even a nosy neighbor had sold her address to the highest bidder. She closed her curtains and rang up Dominick.

“Tell her I’ll do it. But I’m paid more than him and I want you there with me.”

“Of course, that’s just a start. What else?”

She loved him to pieces. He was like a father to her, an older brother type. He’d doted on her for a while now, respecting her. Taking her seriously. She’d had a handful of people, agencies that she’d tried venturing through, but upfront costs and greedy intentions without a care to her growth as an actress: hard pass. Dominick always made sure to look out for her first and foremost before even thinking about taking his cut. The total opposite to that squirmy Parker that followed in Elvis’s shadow.

“That I… hmm,” Well, she had to think about that, demands didn’t come easy to her in this regard, and she thought for a moment before saying without preamble, “And what do you think about hiring a private investigator?”

“For whom exactly?” He didn’t sound averse to the idea in the slightest, asking it like what she wanted for lunch.

“I want them to watch Elvis, more specifically, his associates. I don’t want dirt on them, I just want to know if someone is following me.” Messing with me. She wasn’t about to be harassed on set behind the scenes by someone too cowardly to show their face. If Elvis really was half as hurt as she was about their separation, then maybe someone else was doing the dirty work for him.

There were coincidences and then there were carefully laid plots.

“Alright, Frannie. I’ll get somebody on him. Someone real low key.” He switched ears with the phone, telling her, “You were amazing in Fury. I want you to know you did a good job. I’m proud of you. And your premiere was fabulous. You were lovely in that dress. The after party, though I couldn’t attend, I hear was wonderful.”

She smiled. “It was nice seeing you again. When can I see the little ones? I know Gracie is getting to be a big girl now.” Grabbing the coiled cord around her finger, she gazed out onto the little street she’d grown used to, the glass lamps casting a warm glow on the sidewalk.

“We’ll all come visit you again, I promise. You get some rest now. I hear you got a big movie coming up.”

Elvis couldn’t believe this was really happening. His circumstances, while fragile in a way, were a blessing. He was almost in a daze while readying up for his private flight back to Las Vegas, to where it all began with her.

Equal parts thrilling and nerve racking. He wanted to start where they left off. Start over? He didn’t know how to approach her. He knew how he wanted to, but he had to see what it was that Francesca wanted. Still ready to give it all to her, he contemplated seeing if her old apartment was open for rent, but even he would admit that was going too far. Suddenly, his feet felt like lead. He missed California as soon as he left the plane.

Colonel Parker was simmering the entire damn time, tapping his foot, hands steepled in his lap while he stared straight ahead. Not partaking in any of the drinks or cigars, just simmering. He’d absolutely exploded when Elvis told him bluntly that this wasn’t a request, or a plea, it was a statement, a notification that: Yes, he absolutely would take the opportunity to finish this masterpiece with her. Just seeing her again, dancing and singing with her again would all be worth it.

“You’re making a huge mistake. Biggest mistake of your life.” Parker had seethed, roaring at him over the phone that this was the most disrespectful thing he’d ever done. But Elvis just didn’t see it that way.

The boys thought he was a little crazy but doing the right thing. Except Joe, who was wary of Frannie’s influence over him. Elvis rather liked that influence, and that perfume she always had on. What’s that one, Chanel? Nina Ricci? He bought her another, crystal pink as her other one. She’d tilt her head to the side in that elegant, bird-like way and spritz her lithe neck, her chest.

He needed to see her as soon as possible. He’d been working up the courage to see her new movie, but something in him just resisted the idea. The posters said that her outfits and her dance moves might drive him up the wall for weeks, not that she didn’t already have him still besotted with her. Even when he tried to shack up with other women, he couldn’t stay with them if he didn’t think of her, her beautiful heart shaped face, rosy cheeks and dark, shining hair. She was an angel, breaking his heart into a million tiny pieces. Stirring around the dust with her heel a little bit just to get the point across.

But when he saw her on set for the first time, past the crew, past the cameras and curtains; he forgot all about his pain, at least for a brief second. Her hair had grown a bit. She had on a stunning black sundress and white heels. Her loveliness a knife in his heart. He watched her float amongst the rest, daintily reintroducing herself to familiar faces. Cassandra wouldn’t do with a handshake and yanked Frannie into a hug, squeezing her tight with a few hardy pats to the back, telling her, “You don’t know how wonderful it is to see you.”

Francesca’s eyes met his and he saw something in her face that looked like hope. She inhaled. He watched her chest rise and fall. She grabbed at the pearls draped over her collar, fingering their gleaming beauty. He’d given them to her.

His heart skipped. Soared. He didn’t know whether to give into the relief or remain entirely on edge, because this would be too good to be true. Francesca, still pining for him even after she’d dumped him hard and fast. Maybe it was his fault for not pushing harder for their publicity. Did she think he didn’t want to be associated with her? He knew her cut was above the rest, she really was a superior actress compared to so many he’d seen or worked with. Mitzy was a clueless but buoyant young girl and he did wish her the best. But just being near Frannie on set was a breath of fresh air.

“Chess,” he acknowledged. I see you.

Her eye contact did not break, even as her face softened, her expression puzzling him. “Elvis Presley. What a pleasure it is to work with you again.”

“I can only say the same, my dear.” He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her heavy, until her knees were weak and she was clinging to him. She was gorgeous.

Cassandra laughed, albeit a hint nervously as she watched them interact. She clapped, saying, “Okay, so, we’re just warming up today, getting the lighting back in place, the camera back in place. I honestly thought about just splicing the thing and keeping in the bits that did make it, intertwined with whatever we film over the next few days, but, I think it would be a better idea to just film the entire last duet together once more, from the top. Fresh, clean, and guarded, because god dammit I’m paying someone overtime to stay here and guard this film reel personally.” She was intense, absolutely bringing her A-game to the table. She was a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to be.

And so was he.

Before he could muster the courage to knock on her dressing room door, assuming she was even in there, he ran into Eddie, who’d grown out his hair a little bit since he’s last seen him. He was even sporting a little bit of a beard, looking more like a grown man than the kid he’d been months ago.

“Eddie! It’s good to see you again!” Elvis embraced him warmly.

“You still owe me dinner. My dad says that I’m crazy. That I’m not friends with Elvis Presley, that I’m just pulling his chain.”

Elvis grinned. He had promised him that, hadn’t he? “Well, a man’s only as good as his word. So, what’s the address and when’s the food gonna be ready?” It’d been a long time since he’d last had a home cooked family style meal that wasn’t served up at a restaurant. Or whipped up by one of the fellas in a drunken, but generous, stupor.

Francesca, who wasn’t in her dressing room at all, but readying to head out the door, overheard their conversation. He knew this because she was looking right at him when he glanced her way. He could practically feel her eyes on him. If only it were her silky little hands climbing him instead.

Winning her back was his ultimate goal, other than of course, putting on one hell of a show.

The next day, when filming finally commenced and Francesca was in that dress, his eyes were magnetized. Long legs that went on for miles, led straight to heaven. Where he’d once been invited.

And the way she was looking at him, even while trying her best to avoid being alone with him, he knew that some part of her still desired him. He just needed to stoke the flame. He knew her well enough. The things that made her sigh and moan. If she’d just give him a chance to show her again, how he was just perfect for her and she, him.

But he couldn’t see the forest for the trees and nearly fumbled his first few practice steps with her. Beat for beat, he slowly acclimated back, finding the rhythm like it was second nature. Muscle memory. Hopping back on the horse, he rose hard, never disrupting his gaze from the one thing that meant the most to him: her approval. And, well, obviously her. But he needed her to see, he hadn’t lost the memory of their dancing duet together.

One part of the song had him running after her for a brief second before lifting her up by her slender waist onto the top of the piano his character had always played solo. Her eyes were glittering from the prop lights and with flecks of something else as she looked at him.

Cassandra nearly forgot to call scene when the two of them were done, chests heaving as they panted. Their bodies were rigorously taut and spent as if they’d made love. She was heart achingly beautiful and she still didn’t acknowledge him the way he needed her to.

When they were finished, she parted from him as cool as the change of season. Spring pushed into fall, and he shuddered, watching her leave him near effortlessly. But on her way out, when she kissed cheeks and signed a few crew autographs, she glanced back at him over her shoulder. Batting her glamorous lashes at him, like a matador waving a red flag. He pursued, giving chase like never before.

It was one thing to be scorned, but another to be ignored. He just couldn’t stand not being under her guise. It ate at him more than if she just rebuffed him.

Today, things were serious. Cassandra had implied rather overtly that this portion of filming wasn’t supported by any generous backers, but from her own pocket. The cast, the crew, she was investing herself into this film more than ever. It only made him all the more confident that he’d chosen the best passion piece.

Colonel Parker always occasionally visited Elvis on set before, but now he was heavy handed, coming every day, sometimes staying for the entire duration of filming even though he’d tried dismissing him.

“Don’t you get bored watching us practice?”

“I’m just looking out for my number one guy, Elvis.”

Eddie was incredibly jittering, having to be scolded twice about the lights being off center. He apologized profusely. The previous night, Elvis had finally made good on his promise to have dinner at the young man’s house. It was a charming little factory home on the other side of the railroad tracks. Small, modest, but very well loved. It was cozy and reminded him of home.

Upon seeing the pair walk in, Eddie was the first one to be greeted, wrapped warmly in hugs. His father had to look once, twice, three separate times before he realized whom he laid eyes on.

“Well I’ll be damned…”

“Harold, not in front of our guest,” Eddie’s mother chided, elbowing her gobsmacked husband. She offered out her hand, shiny from cooking with grease. The smell of something delicious wafted out from behind them.

Sitting down at the too large dining room table in a house that did smell slightly of cigarettes, Elvis was treated to some of the best Mississippi roast he’d ever forked into his mouth. And Eddie’s mother, Glenda, was overjoyed to have company, let alone Elvis Presley, who they asked a bevy of questions. The typical ones that he’d answered dozens if not hundreds of times.

“What’s your favorite concert you’ve done?”

“What’s the best town you’ve been to?”

“Do you think you could help tune my old guitar, it just doesn’t sound right and these old ears aren’t what they used to be.”

Elvis was more than delighted to zoom in the scope of his understanding of the world, to fine tune his vision to see into these little domestic bits. Eddie’s parents, fawning over their beloved only child, their older age belying the struggle he must have been to conceive. They proudly showed off Eddie’s camera collection and all the places he’s been to recently. But when Glenda cheerfully went to open Eddie’s photo proofing room, a large utility closet he’d renovated, Eddie eagerly flattened his palm against the door, insisting that the light would ruin his set up. And besides, they were just “boring naturescapes”.

On set, his uneasiness hadn’t diminished and Elvis was surprised to find he was worried about the kid. But today, he had to have a laser focused mindset. No distractions.

When Francesca walked upon the stage, as graceful and goddess-like as ever, Elvis offered out his hand to her and they got down to it. Hot and fast, one, two, three, four. Twists, turns, hip dips that had him feverish. He burned that heat with her, feeling it flare between them. Her hand touched his face, her eyes pooled into his. Her body was perfectly in sync with his; tandem movements in absolute perfection.

Cassandra was stunned. “That’s it people. We got it.”

The crew, overjoyed to have been reunited for a marvelous feature, cheered for the couple, breathing laboriously after their round. Her hand was still in his and she smiled at him, that old Frannie smile that he couldn’t get enough of.

When he finally found a moment alone with her, after weeks of simply being in her presence, Elvis didn’t hold back his feelings. It was the dark aisle behind the set, the both of them still soaring from that performance. It was unspoken between them that that had been it. Flawless. When this movie premiered, he couldn’t help but feel that they were pushing their project out into the world. But it wasn’t just a movie they were starring in, it was a movie made for them, even Cassandra said so, telling them, “You two were electric before. But whatever that was just now. Lighting in a bottle, babes. Don’t let it go, cause you two have got it.”

They did have it. He just needed to remind Francesca.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” He asked her honestly. Did she have any idea? By the look in her tragic face, he knew the answer. She didn’t just have an idea, she knew exactly how he felt. It filled him with pride, he wanted to shout. Her feelings for him hadn’t waned. Just reigniting the flames was all it took. His burned out of control.

Francesca did not pull away from him. She turned her head to half-heartedly avoid his kiss. And breathlessly she told him, with her fingers pressed against his lips, with her face growing warm from his nearness, “Elvis, we can’t.”

“But we can. We absolutely can, Chess,” he said, sealing that assertion with a kiss. He didn’t care who saw. Maybe she did, but right now, all he could think about was her and closing the gap between them. He only felt far from her, letting her push him away. But here, she instantly melted against him, if only for a fleeting second.

Elvis felt her shiver. He felt the chills breaking across her flesh when he rubbed her arms. He kissed her deeper, tilting her head back, drinking her. The taste of her, the feel of her against him. Her hands curled against his waist, hooking into the belt loops and easing him towards her.

“You missed me, admit it,” he teased, pushing her buttons, testing his limits with her already. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted to see her frustrated, suffering, but not with pain—with desire.

Francesca peered out the window of the limousine and gasped, sitting straight back in her seat. “Good God, that’s a lot of people.” A hundred or so on either side of the red carpet, dozens and dozens more spilling out onto the streets. She’d never seen so many people or so many cameras in one place.

Their car was two behind and she anxiously awaited the slow roll, watching Cassandra exit the car with her friend, a lovely tall blonde woman who Frannie recognized. When it was their turn to exit the limousine, Francesca steeled herself. Put on her best Hollywood smile.

Elvis clasped her hand. “You and me, Frannie.”

Once out into the limelight, she was stunned at the turnout of people. There were fans with signs that said all sorts of fanatical things, “Marry me, Elvis!” “I love Elvis Presley!” “Let’s Gamble on Our Love, Baby!”

It was amazing, the sheer amount and this wasn’t a broadly advertised event amongst the public. He simply had that many devoted fans, pining for his attention. And he was walking her through a cheering crowd, with her arm looped under his. He led her with propriety, like he was her husband. And she could feel them noticing, eyes tracking her. Pictures of him and her were held anxiously out, blank books for them to sign. There were fans asking for hugs, roses were being tossed at them.

This felt like a dream. It felt like what she wanted a red carpet premiere to feel like. She and him were the center of attention. Paparazzi were flashing cameras, bulbs popping like a summer thunderstorm with their frequency. She just smiled, telling herself not to lean against him, no matter how good it might feel. God, he smelled so good right now, she could just take a bite out of him. Control yourself, Frannie.

It was certainly hard when he was resting his knee so close against hers on the ride here. Why she insisted in the first place, she wasn’t entirely sure. Whether to have a chance alone with him, or simply for the fanfare factor of the acting couple stepping out together. Which had paid off, seeing as the crowd was still screaming excitedly behind them as they made their way into the marvelous theater.

Francesca wanted the full movie experience and ordered a big bucket of popcorn for herself, or at least she tried to before Elvis butted in with his order, insisting on paying both their tabs. She argued but to no avail. He was always persuasive in ways she didn’t anticipate, charming but persistent.

Elvis racked up on candy and excitedly sat down next to her, it was easy for her to notice that he was doggedly watching her, critically reading her every expression, every reaction to him. He was terrified he was going to mess up, wasn’t he? She felt a pang in her heart that he was so high strung while this was his big night just as much as hers.

Although, she couldn’t feel too bad for him, considering as of late, she was practically beating him off with a stick. He wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t relent. When she pushed, he pulled, when she retreated, he pursued.

When she rebuffed him the last day of filming, after he’d racked her body with shuddering desire thanks to one of the most smoldering kisses he’d ever lain on her, he’d been perturbed exactly none. In fact, it was her own fault, letting him get her so wound up. She’d been clinging to him, rocking her hips into his to stem some of the tension pooling between her thighs. Elvis had a maddening effect on her and he absolutely knew it.

With his hand resting innocently, so innocently on her knee and her face as hot as the sun during Gambling on Your Love’s premiere, Francesca knew that she wasn’t over him.

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis x oc #elvis fic #gambling on your love

25 notes · View notes

sesamestreep · 2 months

Text

for my buddy @firstelevens, based on a thing I said on our call last night! Hope it cheers you up 😇 set in the Bakeoff AU technically but also very standalone (I think)

“You can put her down, if you want,” Foggy says, after the third time Milly successfully steals Matt’s glasses right off his face. He sighs, taking them back and putting them on the coffee table instead. “Her little mat is on the floor. She can do tummy time for a while.” “That’s alright,” Matt replies, while Milly switches her fascination to his nose now. He wiggles it under her little fist and she squeezes back hard.

“The doctor says it’s good for her development—”

“Foggy,” Matt laughs, “I know. I want to hold her.”

Foggy shifts on the couch, where he’s stretched out, pretending to relax, and Matt thinks he’s turning his attention back to the TV, which is playing college basketball at an absurdly low volume. It’s a sign of how burnt out they both are that Foggy turned this on, of all things. Neither of them have ever cared about college basketball, or basketball in general, not even when they were in college. It’s just on for noise, really, and so they can pretend they’re doing something with their weekend other than making sure Milly doesn’t lick any electrical sockets, which eats up the entirety of their social life these days.

“Fine, but if our daughter misses important developmental markers because you love her so much, I’m going to guilt you about it as long as we both live.”

“Save that kind of romantic talk for when we renew our vows someday, buddy.”

“Don’t call me ‘buddy,’” Foggy grumbles, darkly, as he shoves Matt’s thigh with his foot.

Matt turns his attention back to Milly, who puts a drool-covered hand on his chin. It’s a sign of how in love he is and how far his threshold for gross has lowered since becoming a father that this doesn’t even register as disgusting.

“Your dad’s just mad because that nice lady at the coffee shop this morning called him your uncle,” Matt says, softly, like he’s talking to just her.

“It figures that we’d adopt a kid who looks nothing like either of us and people would still assume she was yours,” Foggy interjects, even though he’s still trying to act like he’s not a part of the conversation.

“She is mine!”

“And mine!” Foggy grunts. “It’s homophobic, is what it is.”

“Really, Foggy!”

“It is!”

“That coffeeshop is one of the gayest places in the city!”

“You only think that because you never go to gay bars. Because I poached you from the straight community right into a committed relationship.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation at all,” Matt replies, rolling his eyes even as he feels a creeping sense of fondness for Foggy’s theatrics. “All I meant was, I’m sure that barista didn’t mean anything by it. It was an honest mistake.”

“You always take her side when we fight!”

“The barista’s?”

“Yes!”

“The one we met for the first time today? That barista?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” Foggy sniffs. He pauses for a long stretch of time, before adding, “People probably think you’re her dad because you hog her all the time.”

“Once again,” Matt says, “I am her dad—”

“I mean that they think you’re her biological dad,” Foggy explains. “Like, they think you’ve got a wife somewhere who she looks even more like, but she kind of looks like you too, though they’re really probably just saying it to be nice.”

“Regardless, I do not hog her. She’s my daughter. I’m supposed to be holding her.”

“You’re like a neurotic zoo animal about it, though.”

“A what?”

“Like, one of those animals in the zoo who, like, cleans their baby too much and the zookeepers have to take it away because they’re going to over-groom it and it’s going to be bald.”

“You’re already bald,” Matt whispers to Milly before kissing her on the head.

“You know what I mean,” Foggy sighs.

Matt can’t stop himself from laughing. “I really don’t.”

“You’re always sniffing her.”

“She smells good!”

“All babies smell good!”

“No.” Matt shakes his head. “Milly smells better than other babies.”

“You don’t know any other babies!”

“I knew your brother’s kids when they were babies and they smelled good, don’t get me wrong, but not as good as Milly.”

“I’m going to tell them you said that and you’re not going to be their favorite uncle anymore,” Foggy replies.

“Once they sniff Milly, they’ll understand.”

“You’re a certified freak, Murdock,” Foggy says, as he gets up off the couch. “Lucky for you, I’m into it, but damn.”

As Foggy passes by on his way to the kitchen, Matt reaches out a hand to grab his wrist, stopping him in place. “Very lucky for me,” he says, and Foggy laughs before leaning in to kiss him. “Thank you for making me the dad of this awesome smelling baby.”

“You’re welcome,” Foggy says, as he gently runs his palm over Milly’s soft head while he’s in the neighborhood. “I mean, I didn’t do anything more than you did, but I will gladly accept credit where I don’t deserve it.”

“You know what I mean, though.”

“Yeah,” Foggy says, soft with understanding. “I do. You need anything while I’m up?”

“No, I’m good,” Matt says, already burying his face in the crown of Milly’s head again.

“Please don’t sniff our daughter to death while I’m gone,” Foggy shouts as he heads into the kitchen.

“No promises!” Matt calls back. In his arms, Milly makes a drooly, wet noise against his shoulder and he forgives her for it instantly. He’ll start holding grudges when she stops being the best-smelling, most wonderful creature in the whole galaxy, which is probably going to take a while, if he had to guess.

#just kidding when I said I had nothing to cheer you up #I remembered I could write about baby sniffing #mattfoggy #matt murdock #foggy nelson #daredevil #daredevil fic #homelywenchsociety #that’s my writing tag! don’t worry about it!#I feel like I get to submit this for one of my 30 days writing prompts even though it doesn’t fit any of tjem #firstelevens

24 notes · View notes

jbaileyfansite · 8 months

Text

Interview for 'Out Magazine' for Fellow Travelers (2023)

Starting in 1950, hundreds to thousands of gay men and lesbians were fired from government jobs for allegations of homosexuality under the intrusive eyes of Sen. Joseph McCarthy and his chief counsel, Roy Cohn. They were labeled deviants and morally weak. McCarthy and Cohn said that gay people couldn’t be trusted with your children, let alone to run your country. It’s shockingly similar to what’s happening today.

By 1953, President Dwight Eisenhower signed Executive Order 10450, which barred homosexuals from working in the federal government. Five thousand people were not just fired but were outed to their families and communities, effectively and in some cases literally ending their lives. More followed. It wasn’t until the 1970s that this policy barring gay people from federal jobs started to change, and not until 1998 that it completely ended.

In Fellow Travelers, an eight-episode series airing on Showtime this fall, actors Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey play Hawk Fuller and Tim Laughlin, two men who meet while working in Washington, D.C., at the start of McCarthyism. They fall in love. For Hawk, this means living an existence of discipline and barriers, hiding who he is so he can build a life working in the government. For Tim, it means losing his career and finding a path that allows him to follow his truth.

In order to survive, Hawk and Tim form a chosen family with two other gay men swept up in the big political and cultural changes happening: journalist Marcus Hooks (Jelani Alladin) and drag-queen-turned-activist Frankie Hines (Noah J. Ricketts). Throughout the four decades covered in the series, the four men come back into each other’s lives when things get hardest. For the four out stars of the show, forming that kind of found family was important in order to be able to play some of the most complex and challenging (but rewarding) roles of their careers. That family found its leader in Bomer, a veteran actor (Magic Mike, The Normal Heart). Bailey, an English actor with an extensive background in theater, is internationally famous as the male lead in season 2 of Netflix’s Bridgerton. Alladin (Frozen) and Ricketts (Frozen, Beautiful: The Carole King Musical) are known for their Broadway roles.

“Matt is such a giver, and he gave to all of us and provided the space for all of us to feel safe, to feel that we can make bold choices and that we can all play along,” Alladin says, thanking Bomer. “And it really connected everybody on set to say, to trust each other. Rarely do I feel like there’s a circle of four queer men or four queer bodies and I feel like we can all say, ‘I would fall on a sword for you.’”

For Bomer and Bailey, that also meant building the kind of trust that allowed them to film some sex scenes that are among the hottest in the careers of two men who have filmed a lot of heated moments. “It’s funny, isn’t it? Personally, when I read the script, I didn’t think it was explicit,” Bailey laughs. “I think it’s so important. You can’t tell the queer love story and not show how the sex is so intrinsic.”

“It’s all something that is hard to talk about to people who come together and have separate bodies,” he adds. “But if you exist in the same body, how you negotiate that and what that means, how being submissive [affects sex], and well, really what is kink…. It’s all a thing. I just think it’s a really hearty and honest examination of something which I know I’ve always yearned to see properly explored.”

Bomer says they were able to explore that because they had conversations throughout filming the scenes. “We could call audibles on the fly or really communicate with each other or say we wanted to try this or that, so it all felt pretty free,” he says. “And in terms of the story, all those scenes really carry the story forward. Their relationships are not the same after those above scenes as they were before. So they’re all intrinsic and inherent to the story.”

“I think it’s so nuanced and personal, isn’t it? The way that people have sex is so presumed,” Bailey says. “It definitely was the first time that I’ve seen a light being shown on the roles within a gay relationship and power and status with being submissive and dominant.”

“But to me, what I find interesting, it’s a give and take between the two,” he continues. “So actually it’s not one person going, ‘I’m now going to do this.’ It’s like they move as a unit. And I think that’s beautiful. And I feel like it always is negotiation, and I’m always interested in people who identify as one role, and I would wonder what that is.”

He points to the first time Hawk and Tim have sex, where Hawk takes on the dominant (top) role, and the last time, when Tim takes charge. “Literally, it’s a complete reversal,” he points out. “It’s a love story. So that bleeds into these scenes. So even in the way they have sex, it’s always about generosity and communication. And that is essentially how I feel how this whole show was made on generosity and communication and truth.”

While the sexual intimacy is groundbreaking in the show, the intimacy is there for the characters in other ways too. Because the actors played the characters throughout four decades of their lives, they were presented with a unique opportunity to showcase development — especially for Alladin and Ricketts, who know the importance of showing Black queer love on screen.

“There’s also something so powerful in telling this story to the world right now in hope of either educating or simply revealing to those who don’t understand that love can happen in all shapes, sizes, and forms, and be inside of all people,” Alladin says. “And that it should not be something that is limited by law or limited by the venom of segregation.”

“For me, some of the intimacy that I enjoy the most in this series is when we’re all old,” he continues. “Because they’re still caring for one another. I’ll never forget shooting that scene in the bedroom in one of the later episodes where we’re at age 80 and we’re still connected, we’re still loving each other. That’s something I’ve never seen — caring that lasts through decades.”

For Ricketts, playing the role of a Black gay man who is a drag performer in an illegal gay bar in the ’50s and then becomes an activist and organizer throughout the rest of his life, caused him to look at his own life and priorities.

“I think there’s something so beautiful and beautifully hard about being yourself in a world that is determined to hate you,” Ricketts says. “And playing Frankie, a character that was out and loud and proud with a glossy lip and a painted nail. It really forced me to look inward at the way I moved through the world and see if I’m coming out authentically, if I’m moving in the world authentically. And so I hope that as people watch this, they ask themselves that question so we can break down these barriers of hypermasculinity and feeling like we have to change who we are to subscribe to societal norms.”

“I think living out loud and living as an effeminate person in the world, you put on a type of armor,” he continues. “There is a lot of fear underneath that. And even though to the external world, you’re going out there being brave, what I tried to show was that it’s actually a really difficult thing to stand up and be yourself. There’s a lot of emotion underneath that. And so I think throughout the years, you beat someone down one time and you get stronger the next time. And I think that’s what you see in Frankie’s evolution.”

“It’s amazing to see how much [Frankie’s] priorities shift as the world shifts through the decades. And I think that’s what I responded to so much, is that my character Frankie gives up, puts his heels away to fight the good fight and to make a better existence for the people that come after him,” he says. “And I think that’s something that’s so real for queer people that it’s a call to action. We don’t have the luxury of hanging back. We have to fight for everything that we have.”

That fight became even more real for each of the actors the more they learned about the real Lavender Scare — the aforementioned persecution of queer people in the U.S. government — a history lesson that’s not taught in most schools. “I had no idea it was a thing, and I was embarrassed by that,” Alladin admits. “I was ashamed of that. Why was that chapter skipped in the history books? Why not in social studies class? It is 101, and here we are staring in the mirror being like, Well, did anything change? Well, no. Because we didn’t teach it. We haven’t taught it. So therefore, how can you learn the lesson?”

“I think there’s so much erasure that happens of queer history in general that I’m happy this exists because it forces people to ask the question, Did this really happen? And to seek out answers for themselves,” Ricketts adds. “And the answer is, ‘Yeah, it’s real.’ And it’s happening again today. So yeah, call to action, babies!”

“A lot of the transformations that we’ve seen in the community come from Black and brown bodies that really put themselves out on the street and out on the front lines to fight the fight. And so that’s something that I knew, but it’s amazing to see that it didn’t just happen at Stonewall, it happened in San Francisco and other places with the street queens, that they were out there really going to jail, fighting for their lives so that we could have what we have today,” he says. “And I just think it’s so beautiful to show that. I’m happy that it’s represented.”

Before the July photo shoot for this article, Alladin and Bailey had the chance to go to London Pride together, something both actors say they’ll never forget. “I think it was really crazy to have to experience Pride in New York City and to land in London and experience Pride in London and feel that it’s almost exactly the same,” Alladin says. “There’s a need to release joy. There’s a need to feel that. The world is trying to squish it out of the community with every law that’s being passed, every kind of denial of existence. And you’re like, I just want to enjoy one day.”

Bailey says that working on the show has made him more aware of the political fervor at Pride than any time he’s been previously, and it’s causing him to examine how he uses his platform to fight for LGBTQ+ rights. And Bomer also felt that this year’s Pride was a special one — particular in the wake of Supreme Court decisions that struck down affirmative action and opened the door to businesses discriminating against LGBTQ+ people.

“In light of the past week in all the Supreme Court rulings, it was so important for me personally yesterday just to go out into the streets and take in the Pride celebrations and the sense of community and hope and joy and love that everyone was feeling,” he says. “And to allow that to fill my cup a little bit and inspire me to educate myself and form myself to do what I can and keep moving forward and in the most productive way possible for our community.”

Bomer also wants to make sure he honors those who fought to get us where we are today. “I was fortunate enough to be in Houston last week for the 20th anniversary of Lawrence v. Texas [the SCOTUS ruling invalidating U.S. sodomy laws], and it was so profound for me to meet members of the community in Houston who I was totally unaware of,” he says. “There are generations of heroes who are doing the real grassroots behind-the-scenes work who don’t want accolades, who don’t want awards, who are doing the real work that’s changing all of our lives. And I think I value that today more than I ever have before.”

“For me, I think Pride is always a time to reflect on how far we’ve come but also to realize how much further we have to go,” Ricketts says. “And I think that’s what I’d say to the younger communities, is really understand and know how we got here in the first place and figure out what your form of fighting is. If it’s just showing up in the world authentically as you, that’s wonderful. If it’s getting on a podium and preaching until midnight, that’s wonderful too. But we all need each other and no one can sit back and rest. We have to keep fighting in the fight.”

Talking about queer joy as a form of activism at Pride makes Alladin think of a note he was given during filming from series creator Ron Nyswaner (Philadelphia) about the balance of difficulty and joy found in the series.

“Ron gave me a note one day,” Alladin recalls. “I texted him being like, ‘I’m watching all this research on the ’80s and the AIDS crisis and I’m just sitting here crying.’ He was like, ‘Yeah, but Jelani, I still went to birthday parties. I still found a way to play games with my friends. I still found a way to have a beer and enjoy that.’ So there is still some semblance of light being found in darkness and chaos.”

“When I was in Houston, I was at home with one of the activists and he was showing me pictures from the time period,” Bomer contributes. “And obviously, there was so much heartbreak and loss, but there was also so much celebration and so much joy. It’s really the balance.”

Source

#fellow travelers #out magazine interview 2023 #out magazine #matt bomer #jonathan bailey #noah j. ricketts #jelani alladin #showtime #paramount plus #jonny bailey #noah ricketts #interviews #interviews:2023 #NEW!

32 notes · View notes

growingingreenwood · 3 months

Note

Hey Mama, are you doing okay????? In class today we were looking at polar vortex in North America rn and one of the places my teacher talked about was the province i think you live in (you're Canadian, right???) and he said it was like -40 Degrees Celsius there!!!!! I don't even know how to comprehend those temperatures!!!! Like, are you still alive out there???

Hello my sweet summer child! <3 You're right, I am Canadian! And im not going to lie to you, its been rough out here. And more importantly, its been CONSISENTLY COLDER THAN THE SURFACE OF MARS HERE.

My area of the province has set several temperature records in the past few days:

January 14, 2024: New record of -45.1, Old record of -41.6 set in 2020

January 13, 2024: New record of -45.3, Old record of -41.7 set in 1972

January 12, 2024: New record of -45.9, Old record of -39.4 set in 1969

This doesn't account for the Windchill factor which effectively made the temperatures closer to -55 degrees or colder. To put it into context the only way I can think to, According to Environment Canada at:

-28 to -39 degrees Celsius exposed skin can freeze in 10-30 minutes.

-40 to -47 degrees Celsius exposed skin can freeze in 5-10 minutes.

-48 to -54 degrees Celsius exposed skin can freeze in 2-5 minutes.

Literally not a single car in my family's worked, no matter what we did. This is including extended family, so like, 13 cars. Its just too damn cold for them. Hospitals were literally wrapping their ambulances with heated blankets in between calls so that the entire engine wouldn't freeze. In their heated garage.

Its about an eight day wait for any kind of towing or boosting services. From any provider.

We out here, we cant see anything through the ice fog because the air itself is frozen, but we out here.

Also, I feel like this is the perfect opportunity to give the rest of you much farther south than me tips for surviving other wandering polar vortex's in the future, because at least we're prepared up here:

YOU NEED SURVIVAL EQUPMENT IN YOUR CAR!!! I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH!!!! I'm talking heavy duty gloves, hats, socks, blankets, those heat reflective thermal blankets. If possible, have enough for at least two people but if you're a family ensure there's clothes for every member of your family. I also highly recommend that you get hand and feet warmers to put into your boots and gloves to prevent frostbite

Here is a good checklist to keep, and is very similar to what I have in my car:

https://todayshomeowner.com/weather/guides/winter-survival-kit-for-your-vehicle/

On that note, dressing for seriously cold weather is no fucking joke either, okay? There's an art to it, and that art is L A Y E R S . More layers than you think you need, and then one more. If you can bend your arms or legs without struggling at least a little bit, put another sweater on, underneath your windproof thick outer layer. And another pair of socks. Never leave the house without a hat and your ears covered.

Here's a good guide, which includes the warning signs, symptoms, and suggested actions for each stage of frostbite and hypothermia. Which, in case you didn't know happen in three stages of severity similar to burns but on the opposite side of the temperature scale.

Sorry to turn this into a Winter Weather Safety PSA but I genuinely cannot stress enough how important it is to be prepared in extreme cold. And please, for the love of everything good on this earth, do not and do not let your friends or anyone else walk anywhere when they've been drinking. Do. Not.

Every year in my city at LEAST several collage kids freeze to death because "their place isn't that far" "I have a good jacket." "Ive done it before."

People have frozen to death outside bars because they fell in a snowbank and were too drunk to get out and nobody saw them, because they tried to walk home.

Anyways, stay safe (and warm) out there everyone!!!!

#answered asks #haleigh speaks #not tolkien #but very important!!!!!#winter safety #winter safety tips #extreme cold #I'm from northern Canada okay i know what I'm talking about #polar vortex

13 notes · View notes

brightnote · 10 months

Text

A Secret Invasion Math Problem (Spoilers Episode 3)

Here’s a math problem for you, if Gravik kills two women how many of them will come back? LOL did you answer 1? I think you are correct. -- at least I don’t think this is the end of Emilia in the series regardless of whether it is G’iah who comes back or the character whose identity G’iah stole!!

What major potential reveals do we have here: Rhodey is probably being impersonated by a skrull and he’s the one who told Gravik that Nick returned to earth and was with Hill. This will replace my Talos set up Hill theory to Rhodey set up Hill theory as Rhodey also knows that separating Hill and Fury would be important and disadvantage Fury significantly.

What supports this reveal? Fury says “no one calls him Nick” and finds Bob impersonating Talos and using his name Nick on the phone. Rhodey calls Fury Nick when he fires him. This could be a sign of a skrull or it could be Rhodey setting Fury straight with the seriousness of what happened. Hill called him Fury at the bar in this series but we know she has called him Nick many times before. Kind of a silly thing to change for her.

We also know other people have called Fury Nick, including Tony Stark -- maybe what he means by no one calls him Nick is that anyone who does... dies? (Tony, Natasha, Maria, if skrull Rhodey is killed it’s foreshadowing and then Bob is killed by Talos) Was this just a line of Fury trying to be cool (another ‘even when i am out i am in’ line with a reference back to Captain Marvel!) maybe a total a misdirect, too or red herring!

My guess it’s just an attempt and IMO a failing at a cool line. (he’s kind of 0/2 on this right now because “even when he’s out he’s in” despite how good that scene was wasn’t really accurate to the events that had just happened when Fury, Talos, and Hill got caught up in the trap so I wouldn’t say even when you are out you are in... because clearly CLEARLY he was not in during the bombing and this line ‘no one calls him Nick’ also not true... so maybe we are getting to the big reveal .... double Fury? I did not buy this at first but I am starting to now. One theory out there right now is that Nick sans glasses is actually Soren and Nick with glasses is true Nick. Except of course in the very first episode we see Nick with and without glasses around Talos and Maria so when does second Fury slip in? If that’s the case, Nick sans glasses was the one at Maria’s funeral/body transfer and if that’s the case wooo boy, if he wasn’t really there idk. Unless there is a third Fury who went out and saved Maria and we just didn’t see that, and I am fine with that fyi. When would second Fury have tapped in? (well I guess third because of Gravik’s Fury)

We also see have a scene where Priscilla is on the phone asking to speak to Gravik. Some people say this was Rhodey’s voice I rewatched and can hear that it is Rhodey for sure. The tension between Rhodey and Fury is very good and would be interesting to flesh out. If Rhodey is being impersonated by a skrull this can explain how a skrull Ross infiltrated and was able to contact Hill---this still wouldn’t totally explain skrull Ross calling Hill for an extraction unless they wanted to involve Fury? I keep going back to this initial sequence for a reason, because it matters!! There are a lot of gaps here in how these events came to be.

Gravik’s plan to out G’iah works and he tries to kill her but we know at least that Emilia will be back in the show. Some are saying she comes back as a super skrull because she was in the lab! If they bring G’iah back as a super skrull i think that would be kind of dumb. If G’iah is for real dead this binds Fury and Talos in their fight against Gravik even more ~CUTE~ that these men are being motivated by their complicity in the deaths of women in their lives that they paternal relationships with. Such a dangerous way to display these kind of relationships and pretty lazy FYI. This may also explain the Maria and G’iah encounter in the tunnel which is such an awkward unexplained scene so far. These two women intertwine allegedly on the same side (unknown to them) and then are killed (or believe they are killed) by men in their lives with paternal relationships to them.

Fury knows his wife is a skrull. Fury is relatively happy for having watched his bff die in his arms and then being fired and is now eating eggs and tomatoes which he later calls dog food when he sees Talos in the diner. Hm.

Knowing there is no Maria in this episode it is hard to pay attention. I am holding out because IMBD credited Cobie in episodes 4 and 6 after her death in episode 1 but then it reverted back to episodes 1-6.

Notice: We also see a green and red wine bottle on Sonya’s desk. Not dissimilar to the green and red beer bottle we saw with Maria at the bar! This may be an indication of a ‘skrull in the room’ OR that if a character has a red and green bottle or item that they will be killed by a skrull and we have seen Sonya wear green and red before unlike Hill whose color scheme was blue and white (or very light gray and blue) Sonya is relatively fine being bugged by Fury. She’s chill that that WWIII is about to start, and so is Talos, so let’s talk about dogs--dogs come up a lot with Talos.

Definitely a change in tone in this one and not really for the better. I love Talos and Fury together but I think they need Hill to cut up the banter or set them both straight because some of it is kinda ugh. Talos pulls a Thor in Endgame TYPICAL men. Maria never would have let that happened and probably would never let Fury take a child hostage, and to be honest i have a hard time believing Fury would take a child hostage. Especially because Fury has figured out that Bob is a skrull so why would taking his human son hostage matter? Is Bob’s son a skrull or is this fake Fury / Soren and Soren knows that acting as a person for a long time will invest those emotions into the skrull actor. It seems more like a skrull move than a Fury move to be honest. Overall, the stakes feel relatively low during this allegedly tense start of WWIII moment probably because it is a fake plot. We don’t even know how Fury got these plans but we are to assume it is from him listening or getting a read on Priscilla’s phone in the early scenes when he was wearing his glasses.

AND we are 2/2 for killing the women in this show. You know they will bring Emilia back and not Maria/Cobie and I realized it the second she was shot also there was do dramatic pan out bleeding sequence. LET ME TELL YOU IT’S GONNA BE DUMB if it’s because she’s a super skrull and not because we are getting to know the person who G’iah stole the identity of. Tbh when people said they felt nothing for Maria Hill dying I was like HOW COULD YOU! THIS IS EVERYTHING 12 YEARS WE HAVE BEEN WATCHING HER SAVE AVENGERS AND I AM STILL TALKING ABOUT IT 3 WEEKS LATER. I know G’iah or at least Emilia is coming back. I think a lot of people presume Hill is coming back because of Coulson and Fury also returning from death (Fury two times) Additionally, Sharon Carter also survived a bullet to the gut. The people around Hill always returning is probably a sign that she in fact, will not. Additionally all of the trailer in the footage or clips we have seen of Hill have been used in the first episode (except for the opening scene in the teaser trailer at the bar which is different than the scene in Episode one!)

Part of me is like I can’t believe I was ever excited for this show.

Theories I may have to throw out or edit: Talos set Maria up to ice Fury out. It seemed possible in the first two episodes as we still don’t know how Gravik got his details about Fury returning but of course the show is setting it up that Priscilla with Rhodey are the double spies with Gravik. Since we actually don’t know Priscilla it’s not a super interesting set up that Priscilla is the traitor. It would be much more interesting to see the tension between Fury and Talos, Fury and Rhodey, or Fury and Hill tbh.

I do like this theory that one Fury is Soren and that would explain why I am really excited about a twist that Talos and Fury have been having a secret affair for years because they definitely have something going on.

The Maria G’iah Swap theory I think is potentially out maybe it is a symbolic scene about Gravik killing G’iah. If the G’iah body woman allegedly Abbigal Brand is true then she’s on Fury and Talos’ side this would also explain why the had to kill off Hill in episode 1 because for some reason in spy thrillers there is a rule where there can’t be two women---there can only be one?? This is still true in 2023 apparently and as the lead in TO THE MARVELS WHERE THERE ARE THREE LEADING WOMEN. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Overall this one was a 3/5 for me. A lot of people seemed to really like it but idk it did not hit for me, i’m a sore loser over Maria. I did think there were some good parts but overall I didn’t think it was cut very well and some the lines were rough. I know the WWIII plot was a fake out for Gravik to get G’iah but have you ever felt lower stakes for the start of a major international incident before? And uh shooting women must be like a Gravik kink or something, has he even shot any men? Also why do these men keep doing dumb shit to hurt the women in their lives and do them so dirty, Since it was revealed that G’iah was actually in contact with Talos, Talos calling her for the intel seems like a definite way to get her killed but as we know from Far From Home Talos is actually really kind of bad at anticipating what’s going to happen.

Oh my only remaining theory: misdirect vs trope on the Maria fridging still leaning hard that this is a classic trope that we hate but given the marketing I will give it a 1/5 chance that marvel pulls some cool twist. The director did say Hill “played a big role” in it, but since her time in the first episode and Fury being mostly unaffected by her death (at least it seems that way and if there are two Furys this could explain the disconnect) and it coming up only two times in the second episode and no times in the third episode does this mean a big role or reveal is yet to come? There’s basically very few to none Maria theories out there on the popular breakdown videos so I guess I will just keep advancing them here.

No special guest star billing for Cobie on this one so we know IMDB is just lying to us, and I guess that hurts more not seeing special guest star than it does seeing it. This is definitely the weakest episode so far.

#maria hill #nick fury #talos #g'iah #samuel l jackson #ben mendelsohn #emilia clarke #cobie smulders #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #secret invasion #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#disney+#don cheadle #james rhodes #rhodey

36 notes · View notes