#free theatre animated gif

[superstarz9]

So y’all fw some MORE Mr. Puzzles headcanons?

Cause I got some :]

Even though he streams his content, Mr. Puzzles hates streaming over normal television and believes it ruins the momentum. The only thing he appreciates about streaming is the lack of ads. No matter how bad the ratings are, Puzzlevision is an ad-free service!

To add, product placement is a no-go. Any products he might advertise on a show are all Puzzlevision branded, not that he’d advertise much. He’s a smart business man, which I’ll go in-depth with another time.

He’s all about authenticity with his actors an really hates big-time celebrities. Celebrities are snobbish and aren’t easy for Puzzles to handle. He also doesn’t want people to engage with his shows solely because of famous names. The day he hires a celebrity is the day he becomes a sellout, and the idea of selling out terrifies him.

Mr. Puzzles does an extensive background check of every single cast member he recruits. Not just because he’s trying to find the perfect actors, but because he’s trying to find people that wont be missed if they mysteriously disappear for long periods of time. After a cast’s likability begin to dwindle, Puzzles brings them back as if nothing happened. Previous cast members won’t remember their time at Puzzlevision and have a hazy memory for a bit before they adjust to normal. If they watch a show that they’ve been in, they’re so disconnected from the show that they won’t recognize themselves. However, Puzzles is careful to avoid reruns after switching casts.

He absolutely hates reality tv for multiple reasons. It’s the farthest thing from reality, everything is so fake, and the writing is HORRIBLE! If the audience demands it, he’ll make a reality tv show, but it would be one of the few things he wouldn’t mind not hitting 5 stars. The less creative impact he has on the show, the less he cares for it.

He prefers live-action over animation, but highly respects animated shows.

He likes movies but heavily prefers tv since television has always been frowned upon within Hollywood and the entertainment industry (It’s actually interesting to know the beef between movie studios and tv, I recommend checking it out. To put in into perspective, picture the Disney theatre movies vs the straight to video movies: there’s a huge difference and it’s somewhat obvious of the cash-grab tv movies/shows are. The purpose of tv has always been a quick cash grab, actually. Kinda like the first content farm, to an extent). Puzzles wants to prove that television is a respectable media outlet and shouldn’t be frowned upon within the industry.

He is familiar with almost any televised language. The only major issue is that, yes, he needs subtitles to completely understand. However, he can hold a relatively decent conversation in most languages, he’d just need a few refreshers.

Already talked about it last post but he likes to cook and really enjoys cooking/baking shows. Y’know that thing where you’re good at one but not as good at the other cause they’re so different (you cook to your liking vs following a strict recipe for the best dessert outcome)? I feel like Puzzles would be perfect at baking alone but any baking show he does goes to absolute shit. However, he’s not as great at cooking alone (since he can’t taste) but it much better with a sous-chef guiding him.

This was someone else’s hc (I don’t remember who’s, I’m srry), but they brought up that the order of shows Mr. Puzzles makes with the SMG4 crew reflect the shows he watched growing up (the kids-y shows, family disney-type movies, teen stuff like Scooby-doo, and gameshows). I’d like to add that he enjoys making gameshows the most because he can be the main character in every episode, and everyone’s reactions are the most genuine. The only thing I can see Puzzles not liking is the lack of creativity (similar to reality tv). However, it would be pretty fitting for a production company called Puzzlevision to make game shows.

This one’s gonna be a little bit more depressing. No matter how hard he tries or how good he thinks his writing is, Mr. Puzzles cannot write anything original. It’s the curse of seeing every piece of televised media to ever be produced. He tries his best to be original but as the puzzlevision arc continues, he gradually stops trying to be original, which is what ultimately causes him to lose. While Puzzles keeps trying to copy other successful media and failing, it’s the originality the SMG4 crew produce that gets them to 5 stars (and extremely quickly, too). Puzzles fails to realize that the shows he loves and tries to replicate were original, too, and that’s what got them to succeed in the first place. I feel like this success from SMG4’s originality is what sparked Mr. Puzzles’ envy in the first place.

To add to this, Puzzles has been canonically spying and interfering with the SMG4 crew for a while (selling them the showgrounds, the cursed keyboard in the ITS GOTTA BE PERFECT arc, the Western Spaghetti arc), and is almost a direct parallel to SMG4. They both was to succeed and produce original content, striving for perfection. The only major difference is that Mr. Puzzles has been alone for the majority of his life whereas SMG4 has his crew. Despite this, however, SMG4 still snaps and isolates himself similarly to how Puzzles takes complete creative control.

Not having a proper friend/support group is also what causes Puzzles to fail, isolating himself from the rest of the world. Even though we don’t see much of the studio, it’s still pretty run down and barren, implying that Puzzles doesn’t spend much time there, if at all. Puzzles spends most of his time in the shows, directing/acting/ect, and avoiding the real world where he doesn’t have control. When he’s in the real world and bored, he dissociates a lot, planning out his next big projects.

To add, he’s not a big fan of modern technology as a whole, and sticks to older tech (like the older computer model in the teaser between the scooby episode and the gameshow episode and his head being an older computer). Same goes for the studio. I can totally see him walking into the decrepit building with the real estate agent being like “this building hasn’t seen the light of day since 200 b.c,” and Mr. Puzzles ecstatically goes “I’ll TAKE IT!” He’d also do his own renovations and film it for an abandoned house-flipping series, scrapping it later because he sucks at renovating.

He can’t take constructive criticism if his life depended on it. He tries, but all he thinks is “well these people just don’t understand TRUE art in this world!”

He can play shows/movies in the back of his mind whenever, and often does if he’s not on set. Y’know that reddit/tumblr post about the kid who memorized Shrek so much that he could just watch it from memory and his dad would catch him at the 37:14 mark and be like “stop watching shrek and go to bed,”? Yeah, Puzzles is like that. Only difference is that he can’t pause it, only tune it out.

He’ll watch them, but found-family sit-coms depress him. Shows like Friends, It’s Always Sunny in Philly, etc remind him of what his life could’ve been if he could’ve made friends properly.

To add to this, y’know how he projects himself in his shows? What if he did that with shows like Friends, where he’s a part of the cast and laughing along. He’d do it in his sleep and not even realize it’s a dream until the episode ends and he wakes up alone. :,]

On a lighter note, older tvs release a light frequency that gets louder the older it gets. Mr. Puzzles probably hums a frequency without realizing it that people can only hear if they’re close and he isn’t babbling away. Older tvs also kinds adjust(?) where they slightly creek a lil. Mr. Puzzles probably does, to, and it’s the equivalent of him cracking his neck.

He’s also more prone to shock people slightly, depending on how manic he is. If he rubs his gloves together he’s practically a battery.

He has a daily care routine that involves him carefully wiping his screen with windex.

These ones are more show/content based. If these continue to do well I’ll post some more general and maybe relationship hcs :]. If you guys have any suggestions/questions/critiques please let me know!

[tare-anime]

I've watched Spy x Family Code White!!!!

And and ........!!!!

OmG!!!!

It's so totally awesome!!!

Tbh, I've never watched anime movie that good before!

I might be biased, but truly, it WAS so AWESOME that I'm planning to rewatch it (if I've ever managed to find extra free time)

My full with spoiler review under the cut

So first of all, the animation quality WAS top notch!

They way they draw scenery, background, lighting, camera movements. OmG!! I really love how WIT studio pay so much attention to details. And the smoothness of it.

The scenery of snowy mountains, sun light reflections through crystalize ice, the water...... wow!

And then there were the difference in way of drawing scenes. Like Anya's imagination was drawn so cartoony, meanwhile Yor's fiery 🔥🔥🔥 fight with type F was drawn with so much intensity, and Loid's stealthy fight was drawn with different color as if Loid was in different dimentions than the rest of the enemies because he was the only one in disguises.

This different way of drawing scenes kind of like Spiderman into the spiderverse, but not to that extent. Nevertheless, it's super awesome.

The foods!!! OmG! Those were detailed and awesome food drawings that make me drools 🤤🤤🤤 desserts, main courses, even snacks!! Wooooaaaa

The action!!! I bow down to the animators. WIT studio once again showing off their skills in drawing super awesome fight action scenes. They draw the character movements very well. Even Fiona get her short glimpse of action scene and that's awesome!

Loid's different action tones animation is super awesome, but I have to bow down and thank the animation team in making Yor (my queeeennn 🛐🛐) being super badass!!! The way she ended the fight with type F??? Guh..... I need all my will power not to screamed "That's my queen!!" in the middle of theatre 🤣

Of course like all anime movies out there, we have to lower our expectation regarding plots. (Plot? What plot? We're here to see the family awesomeness 🤣)

We can easily spot the re-use of plot from canon material but was shown in different font, such as:

Yor's jealousy towards Fiona, that leads her thinking she's inadequate mom and wife, that was a result from her overthink her 3 gossipers cowokers

Fiona's obsesiveness in trying to impress Twilight and becoming the Forger mother

Drunk Yor vs Twilight which ended with Yor sleeping

The super direct advance of Twilight that sucessfully making Yor super embarrases that her body instinc injured Loid

Super long and hiperbolic poop joke from Anya

(These managed to make us the audiences LOLed though 🤣🤣🤣)

Not to say, plot holes (?) Or plot that make you go "huh?", such as:

The super unnecessary idea of replacing Loid with other incompetent agent for a mission as important as Op.Strix

The possible stella from a cooking contest that end up all for nothing because of technicallity malfunction

Putting a very valuable microchip inside a common trunk, and all of a sudden was transported in a common train, leniently lying around in a place where a kid can meddle with it. Secured with only 1 very common key.

A secret recipe of dessert that is a secret but the restaurant owner can give the ingridients to stranger because the owner felt guilty that Anya's share was taken by a foodie adult with military power.

An old plane memento that somehow still in prime condition that can be used by Twilight to pursue Anya's kidnappers.

I can't be helped. The animators may not create something that might disturb canon stories afterall. So these plots were just there to drive the story forward, and forward the story goes!!

(Despite all the things I mentioned above, I still enjoyed the story well.)

And then, last but the most important things, the movie managed to deliver the family awesomeness so well!! The animators clearly know the character and character dinamics so very well. And I, again, bow down to them. 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

There are so many moments that will make you go "awwwwwww" and give you so much fluff and sweetness you'd have diabetes right away.

The way Loid always tried his best to give the best for the family, but he forget that the family IS the important one. And Yor was there to softly remind him of it. (This scene was so soft I really teared up 🥲🥲🥲🥲)

The way Anya tried her best to help her papa in acquiring the ingridients because that's the mission was, but eventually she got into trouble. And yet at the end Loid was still very proud of her.

The way Yor took care of Anya and play with her during the trip, the way she protected Anya during their initial fight and at the end of the fight (so many mother daughter moments!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰)

The difference way of fighting between Twilight and Thorn Princess. Like Twilight will go all stealth and disguises until he can't. Meanwhile Thorn Princess was just strorm right through the front door (or rear wall in this movie), demolishing everything while at the same time politely asking for her daughter and husband 🤣🤣🤣

The way all of family working together so that the plane didn't crash at the town, and the way they laugh (Yor and Anya were laughing out loud, meanwhile Loid was chuckling) when all of them managed to "safely" landed.

Good boy Bond always tried his best to support Anya and even galantly tried to defend her but alas, he was no match to human enemy. 🥲🥲

I was just 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

And really, Endo should take notes.

Because all of these are what make we love Forger family. And that it IS possible to make the family do a mission together without revealing their secrets. Like Loid's lousy excuses that make Yor went wooooww, Yor's even more lousy half lies that Loid believes just like that 🤣🤣🤣🤣 (these two omG!)

I also love how Anya as the captain of TwiYor ship actively pushing her parents. Yes Anya 🥰🥰🥰

I also love how the main villain able to recognize Twilight in disguises via the unusual scent. Like. Woa!! That is so possible!! I mean, latex should have a very distinctive smell afterall.

All in all, truly an amazing first movie!!! I do hope one day the anime team will continue to make amazing movies in the future. 🥰🥰🥰

[suraemoon]

A Starry Night in 1956

Link to Part 1: A Sunset in 1956

It isn’t necessary to read Part 1 to understand this fic but hey it doesn’t hurt. ^^^

Warnings: p in v smut, virginity loss, oral sex (f receiving), angst, argument, reader has a panic attack in a crowd, descriptions on uncomfy clothes, some objectification of the body?, edging, unfulfilled wishes of finishing inside a woman, teeny bit of masturbation, any more pls let me know

WC: 13k (please bear with me lol about 5k of it is smut)

A/N: The story takes place in Florida in August of 1956. But unlike Elvis’ real life Florida shows during this time, instead of a theatre I’m imagining an amphitheater, park type of venue, like a music festival? if that makes sense. This is my first time writing smut, go easy on me. My inbox is always open for requests if for some reason you trust me with your ideas. Ahhh enjoy.

The starry night’s humid Floridian air was the cozy homestead of not only the expected water vapor but altogether meaningless, patient chatter. The laughs and small talk of people all with a common goal and interest: to see the Elvis Presley perform before them. The Elvis Presley so nationally loved by friends and schoolmates. The Elvis Presley so naturally hated by parents and guardians.

A passionate performance ranted and raved about, a controversial performance complained about and loathed, fit altogether in such a delicious little package for anyone so free in their judgment and beautiful rebellious lovers who have gotten their hands on the wave of Rock n’ Roll. The bow of this gift was a handsome man at its forefront. The poster boy of it all.

You’ve had the privilege of getting to know and love Elvis ever since you were sat at desks right next to each in elementary, in the days when the world was blissfully unaware that the foreman of a cultural movement was in school learning times tables. Seats that would eventually get moved due to disruptive chatter and giggles from the two of you, but the bond built that day could never let up or separate. Now you get to share the gift that is your best friend with the world, for better and for worse.

The year is 1956. Elvis and his band are touring and performing for adoring audiences all around the country and of course he had to take you, his “bestest girl”, with him to every single stop on the road.

You remember the now-fond, then-scary day when in the comfort of your childhood bedroom of your baby blue family home in Memphis that Elvis first proposed the idea that you come with him across the country.

——————— A few months ago ————————

It was a little while after you and Elvis had come up from dinner. After putting your dishes in the sink and thanking your mother again for the meal she prepared, the two of you quickly but politely and calmly made it a mission to get back up the stairs and into your bedroom like you had done so many instances before. It started when you were little, yawning and waiting patiently to get dismissed from the dinner table to get back to playing, sometimes getting yelled at for trying to race each other up the stairs to see who can get to the top first. Now that the two of you are young adults, you are obliviously unaware at how the urgency to get to your bedroom might look to any bystander. The bystanders being your confused, furrowed brow parents.

It was a vulnerable sunset, the orange hue of golden hour pouring into your window as the only new thing allowed to enter your frilly, pink bedroom. A bedroom whose decor hasn’t changed for years.

The two of you had planned to go page by page through your copy of the high school yearbook from your graduating year, reminiscing together on past experiences and gossiping about where everyone is now. You can clearly recall the moment when you finally were able to wriggle the yearbook from your full well-loved bookshelf, dusting it off and holding it in your hands while Elvis whispered from his spot on the pink, stuffed-animal filled bed behind you his plans about going away to do performances and his hope that you will accompany him. You dropped not only the book you were holding onto the cold hardwood floor but also the smile decorating your face as you turned around to face him.

“What’d you just say, Presley?”

You knew exactly what he muttered. He whispered loud enough to know you could hear him. You were both aware of these quiet facts. Quickly, you scurried over to your bedroom door to grab the doorknob and close it, an action that your parents did not allow when Elvis was over, but at this moment the pure necessity made you not care at all.

His voice was louder and shakier now, his accent getting thicker as he hurriedly tried to explain and convince you all in a few seconds. It was as if the last train was about to leave the station and he's trying his hardest to get you on board. His leg bounces against the bottom of your wooden bed frame.

“I know, I know. It sou-sounds crazy b-bu-but Mama is worried sick about me going and I know she’ll feel better if you’re there with me. I’ll feel better if you’re there with me. You just gotta, you gotta come with me, Satnin. You don’t know how much I need ya, honey. I really do. Never needed ya more than I do now.”

You force words to come out of your mouth in response to this confession of his. He’s never needed you more.

“E-Elvis I can’t just up and leave. What about…”

The tone of his voice has done a 180 and is now trying the best it can to portray calm and certain. The falsehood that everything has been figured out, the hope that everything will be okay. The need that everything will be okay. It’s apparent to him that you need assurance in this moment but his words are not only spoken to you; they are a message of comfort to himself, a plea to the Lord that what he has taught himself to think is actually the plan, that what he has grown to believe is indeed the truth.

“We graduated a while ago. We’re grown now. Ain’t nothing stopping us but ourselves. That’s what I had to tell myself. The only one that’s stopping you is yourself. It’s all doubt.”

You start to pace around the room, your feet going from the softness of your small carpet to the stable hardwood. Every thought and uncertainty is filling your mind at rapid speed and they’re pushing to spill out of your mouth restlessly as if your brain can’t seem to keep them all contained in one spot.

When you regain the ability to form sentences you stop in your tracks to look at him, your racing thoughts are even faster as words.

“I’ve got a family too, Elvis. A loving one just like you do and your mama wouldn’t be the only mama worried. My mother would be more than worried and I can’t imagine leaving her and no way my daddy would just let me roam the country either. You know him, you know how he is.”

“Honey…”

It’s like you don’t even hear him, your brain doesn’t have the space to process that he spoke, “What about all I’ve got here, Elvis? My job at the diner? I told ya that promotion is coming soon. Oh God, I know it is, I’ve been working for a while. I can’t just quit and lose all that progress I made! Brother done moved out to live his life and my parents are gonna be here all alone without me.”

Your feet stop their parading right in front of him, both of your hands on the side of your face like they’re the only thing keeping your head on. Your eyebrows furrow in wonder of why he isn’t trying to combat your words, confused on the fact that he doesn’t seem as concerned as you are.

Elvis decides to gently take both of your shaky hands into his, leading you to sit down on the bed next to him. Your poodle skirt lifts a little in the back just for the top fabric to pool around you and settle back down on the comforter, the breath you take in lifts and settles just the same.

He consoles in almost a whisper, “You don’t gotta worry about all that. It’ll all be alright. We’ll be together.”

“I know we will but….” His thumbs start moving back and forth in a soothing motion, cutting you off.

His voice picks up more, “Please? Come with me? All we’ve been through together, we can’t lose that now. I’m s-so scared of losing that, of losing you. I need to take a piece of home with me. Something to keep me stable, to keep me going. You always do. Every new place I go, I’ll have my Memphis with me.”

He gestures exasperated to you, his Memphis.

You take a long sigh, have all of your years of friendship culminated to this moment? The only movement in the bedroom besides the rise and fall of breath is his steady thumb on the back of your soft hand.

There is a few minutes of uneasy silence before you speak up looking not at him but instead at the glow of the shaded lamp on your nightstand. “How long will we be traveling again? I need to know how much to pack.”

“Well. New dates and venues keep being added and uh—Wait a minute....That means you're coming?” He glances at you, eyes sparkling full of hope.

You stare back at him with a smile, hope matching hope. A soft laugh almost makes your words a melody, “That’s what it means.”

“Oh, Memphis!” Elvis quickly traps you into a big, bear hug as if all of his pent up emotions have been waiting to be released. He’s squeezing you like his life depends on it, his arms around you to hold and keep you close. You giggle at this sudden action as excitement fills the air and fear clouds your mind. But, it’s a good kind of fear. It’s an anticipation that cannot be tamed.

————————————————————————

That day was a while ago. The Colonel has taken Elvis and his band (you and the Memphis Mafia buddies that have tagged along, he has taken begrudgingly) around different parts of the USA. You’ve gone to venue after venue, drove mile after mile, and it was far from done. Tour life has its ups and downs for everybody and it’s proven that the lifestyle is not for the weak of spirit. You have experienced exhilarating parties and contagious laughter that made it so you never wanted the sun to set and the nights to end.

There have also been days that the homesickness stays sitting in your belly, tears threatening to fill your eyes if you thought too hard about Memphis or stared too long at the family picture you kept safe and secure in your bag. An emotional rollercoaster when you come across it while quickly taking something out.

Many had come out for this night’s concert, one of many that Elvis would perform in the sunshine state of Florida. You watch observantly as the crowd around you waited in the open-aired park venue with waiting breath and time-passing fidgets.

It managed to cool down significantly from the heat that coated the early hours of the afternoon, to which everyone was thankful because it hopefully meant less fainting from screaming girls. The fanatic women didn’t have to worry about the sun beaming down to work against them, only Elvis’ attractiveness filling their soul, making them swooningly dazed. Pure anticipation kept the atmosphere thick where the temperature had let up.

You were full of anxiety as you stood alone in the middle of the crowd. You shifted from foot to foot, hand tugging on the edge of your tight black pencil skirt. It hugged your lower half like a glove would and had to be at least a few inches shorter than what was seen as decent. You know that your daddy would have a fit if he saw you dressed like this.

These recent stops have been hardest on your heart, hardest on your mind. It has been too long since you’ve touched your mama’s face, too long since you’ve heard your daddy’s belly laugh. Too damn long since you’ve seen the familiar, calming blue paint of your Memphis home. The same home you were brought home from the hospital to, the same home you left to go on tour.

We’ll be together.

His words have seemed to do nothing but haunt you lately. You’re together all the time, that’s true, but you only seem to be wholefully acknowledged when he remembers you exist. Nowadays, the only long conversations you have are when he needs someone to vent his emotions to and happens to recall that the girl he drags along with him is not only a pretty thing to look at but is also his best friend. You don’t even know if the best friend part still holds up anymore but it hurts too much to even imagine that being the case. If you think too hard about it, you would no doubt throw up right on the lady next to you’s shiny heels.

You play with the strap of your blouse, is it tighter than when you put it on? Is that possible? Well it had to be, no other explanation. You’ve never felt so uncomfortable in a top.

We’ll be together.

He’s together with girls that aren’t you. You shouldn’t be mad about it. You can’t get angry at it, you aren’t his girlfriend. He has no reason to commit to you but now your life is centered all around him. You can’t help the jealousy that fills your mind like a bitter perfume whenever you see him flirt or kiss a random girl. Several beautiful girls crowd around him at each stop, eager to get their hands on Elvis Presley. You sigh knowing that you could never hold a candle to them. If your light shined as bright as there's, why weren’t you his? You give polite, tight-lipped smiles when asked to hold the camera and snap fan photos. You stand there awkwardly shifting back and forth on your feet, playing with your hands in the moments succeeding when he starts smooching all over them with that signature Elvis-style charm after the flash leaves and the picture is snapped. Who knew that there were so many model-worthy women just sitting in Suburban towns waiting to have their lips kissed and boobs grazed by Elvis Presley?

Some nights you find yourself alone under the stars and locked out of your and Elvis’ shared motel room, the only place that you know can be yours in such an uncertain existence. In your place is a gorgeous woman from the party the Memphis Mafia insisted that you all go to after an already long night.

Well, you technically can’t say the lucky woman is “in your place” because the activities occurring on the other side of that lovely door are things you can only dream about Elvis doing to you. There have been many nights where you’ve thought about sneaking in the bed next to yours to feel him in a way you’ve never had. Even if it’s just for sleep.

The reason you two even share motel rooms in the first place is Elvis’ desire to keep you safe and in his line of vision. Away from the access of creepy men roaming around these unfamiliar cities and even some of his Memphis Mafia friend group who think it’s fun to hit on you sometimes. He keeps you close but not too close. You’re stuck in a limbo of not knowing where you stand with a man you’ve grown to know so well. You know with every ounce of your heart that Elvis cares about you, there is no doubt about that, but you don’t know how he feels about you. It leaves you feeling dumb and knowledgeable. Disoriented and understanding.

Little does he know that sometimes you do get tortured sometimes, by no one but him. A mind game he doesn’t even know he’s playing. It leaves you broken, what’s the point?

In the crowd, your hands shake with nerves as if you are the one about to perform. The expensive gold and diamond bracelet Elvis bought in New York and presented to you under the old oak tree in your backyard makes a clanging sound as it moves with your motion. It seems tighter than it was when you put it on earlier. To take your mind off of both boredom and anxiety, you use all of your concentration to unhook the tiny gold clip and you make it looser a few notches. The bracelet had looked so out of place the night he gave it to you; the shine of the metal contrasted with the pastel fabric over your skirt. Though you are sure that the little diamonds throughout the chain shined brighter that night when you were sitting next to Elvis, maybe the light from the sun, maybe the light he radiated.

The jewelry went perfectly with your look tonight. Elvis has been picking out your outfits lately. They have gotten so mature, so grown up, so sexy.

———————— A few hours ago ————————

Elvis’ jaw dropped when you stepped out of the small bathroom looking like the epitome of a Hollywood bombshell in the outfit he had bought for you. He ignored the urge to pat himself on the back with how it all came out. “Wow, honey. You’re tryna kill me, huh? Do a spin, you have ta.”

It’s a tight blouse, a lower cut than you would even think about picking up from the rack but he was glad that could convince you to put it on. Your chest is lifted and displayed perfectly among the bright, satin blue fabric.

He’s used to your lower half being covered beneath the layers of poodle skirts or swing dresses but the tightness of the black skirt was practically nude compared to your usual style.

Some of your body is left to the imagination, how he likes it, but seeing the true outline and curves of your figure was like getting a glimpse of heaven.

You giggled and did as much of a spin as the tight fabric of your skirt and your heels allowed you. “Do you really like it?”

He looked at you, shocked that that’s even a question. “Are you kidding? Like isn’t strong enough of a word. Imma have to beat fellas away with a stick.”

“You’re gonna get jealous? Maybe I should use all my flirting skills tonight. I might meet a nice Floridian boy, you never know.”

“No such thing as one. You should go look at yourself in the mirror though. Might make your head a little bigger but it would be a shame if you didn’t see yourself.”

Your jaw was the next to drop when you got a good look at your full outfit in the mirror. No way the woman staring back in the reflection was you. It had to be someone else.

“Seeing what I’m seeing now, honey?”

You made sure to do every step of the process how Elvis liked it. You had taken his suggestions on how to do your hair and not one strand was out of place. The dark makeup was his idea as well, you’d usually never apply this much. The outfit topped the whole thing off.

“Oh thank you, Elvis! You’ve got a good eye for these types of things, you really do. You’re the bestest. Should pick out my whole wardrobe, that’s how much I like it. It’s beautiful.”

He replied simply but perfectly, making your knees weak as he did it, “You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes tried to meet Elvis’ baby blues in the mirror but couldn’t quite catch them because he was too busy staring at other things. You watched him scan you up and down with those famous bedroom eyes, lidded as in a trance, and you were sure that you could pass out right there. He’s never looked at you with such fever in his eyes before and oh how much you enjoy it now that you’ve had a taste of it. You aren’t sure if you should kiss him or slap him as he lustfully and not so subtly stares at your legs, your hips, your waist, your boobs. His eyes only leave the mirror to look at your backside, not visible in the glass.

Little did you know, you were the manifestation of everything he had worked towards, a physical representation of how far he’s come. His childhood best friend dressed like a leading woman on the big screen…because of him.

At that moment he remembered, a thought provoked by a thought, an incident years back when the two of you were playing and running around the plush grass of your backyard, the blue paint of the house was brighter back then and the birds chirped a little louder. The wooden swing was still intact with both ropes on the tree, aging this story correctly, and your favorite activity in those days was to swing and jump off. One day, Elvis was sitting on the ground watching you demonstrate the skill that was jumping off the swing and the precision it took to get it right. When you leaped, he watched as your skirt went up in the air to act as a parachute, giving him a view of the white cotton panties you wore under your skirt. His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed pink. Years later he can look back and laugh at how innocent and curious he was.

You got up, grass stains on your knees from the jump, and was quick to sit next to him, “Elvis?” You stop trying to catch your breath. “Wasn’t that amazing! I’ve been practicing and yours might not be as good as mine yet cause you are just starting. You gotta time the jump just right..”

You rambled on and on not yet noticing that your friend hadn’t responded yet when suddenly you stopped, noticing his red cheeks. “Elvis? Is everything alright? You’re looking a little pink.” You poked each of his apple-red cheeks with your finger and giggled.

That was the first time Elvis saw you, or anyone for that matter, in such a way. There was a weird pang in his heart, a blush that didn’t want to tame, and a fast shaking of his head when you asked what had gotten him so flustered that he wasn’t able to speak for a whole minute. Years later, he’s the one dressing you.

He smiles to himself at the memory. You saw each other grow up. Elvis started to notice you wear makeup. Your eyelashes magically got longer, little did he know at the time that this was due to mascara, something that has since become well acquainted with. The pretty pink blush that you used to only have when you were flustered and embarrassed stayed permanent on your cheeks as if normal. Over the years, he noticed how your tops started to fill out more, something he felt bad about taking glances at in those teenage years when he had the hormonal urge to stare. Well he still has those urges at 21, but that’s beside the point. Your face has matured into its features. You’ve always been pretty but have you always been this gorgeous?

He’s taken out of his own head when he feels you turn from the mirror and hug him, he uses his hand to pet your head lovingly and follow the shape of your hair.

———————— 20 minutes ago ————————

All those thoughts he had a few hours ago while getting ready in the motel room lingered in his head when you last saw each other about 20 minutes ago. He looked over at you once more backstage before sending you out to join the crowd waiting. “Go out there and enjoy the performance, honey.”

You have gotten used to being a backstage-dweller, watching from the sidelines getting a view that few others would ever have. The only downside was not being able to see all of Elvis’ pretty face while he performed but that stunning side profile was enough to keep you satisfied.

“I can’t just stay back here? No crowds…no sweat…no pushing. It’s nice”

“You think I dolled ya up for you to hide? I wanna see you while I’m performing. Spending all your time behind the scenes you can’t get the full picture. Might forget why you’re here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t know why I’d say it if I wasn’t sure. Do I have a reason to lie?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“But that’s what I answered, honey.”

You huff, “Fine.”

————————————————————————

This series of events is how you ended up in your current situation.

The cold barricade is the only spot of cool under waiting torsos as you are only two rows back from being able to count the dust of the stage. You take a glance at the curtain stage left, trying to get a glimpse at the man who sent you out here. It’s to no avail as you are just a little too far back and the curtains have no give in their ability to stay closed. Your right hand goes up to cover your chest in defense when while looking to the side you catch one unsuspecting girl’s boyfriend trying to pass the time by staring at you a little too intensely. If looks could kill, you’d have been dead a long time ago. Girls look at you with disgust as if you were planted as an opener for their boyfriends to gawk at; boyfriends who only came out to make their gals happy, their hair styled in the hope that she’ll pretend he’s Elvis later on tonight. Some didn’t care or acknowledge your existence at all which made you wonder if these “stares” were all imaginary. Just your mind trying to protect you from something not happening. No way they weren’t real, if they weren’t you wouldn’t be so itchy right now, and your breath wouldn’t be so heavy even when the humid air is giving you nothing to work with.

You felt so desirable and confident when Elvis was eyeing you at the motel, what happened? Maybe the realization that you’re attracting the wrong people. You aren’t desired by the man your heart yearns for most. All dolled up to be a woman created for you to be, a woman that you knew that if you thought hard enough, if you worked hard enough you can one day become. The shell had been made for you to fill in seamlessly and it was still uncomfy. And oh how much you wanted it.

The lights go down and rogue screams of excitement accompany it. The lights are back up in a few seconds and there he is in all his glory, Elvis Presley. He still has that radiating quality that can be seen in the dark, a boyish smirk that causes women to shriek, hair that except for a few pieces in the front would be flawless. His suit is a little oversized but still perfect. He didn’t look real and every time you see him perform you are taken back as if it’s your first time ever laying eyes on him. Like a flower, Elvis blossoms like a flower in spring while on stage. It’s where he shines the brightest. He’s the boy you’ve always known transformed into something more than just potential. It’s the best version of himself, being in your happy place will do that to a person.

You focus on fawning over the man on the platform as if he’s the only thing that matters. The only interior taking you abruptly out of this reality is a push….not a push, a shove. It’s the group of younger teenage girls behind you trying to get closer to the stage. Someone else bumps into your shoulder as you look over. You can feel people’s breaths around you, the sweat, the sticky warm air, the heat of it all mixing together. It was never roomy on the grass, but the bubbles of personal space subconsciously given in to everyone in the crowd popped in that moment and the people just started getting closer and closer.

It was like a sea of magnets attracted to one thing and you wanted to yell at yourself for picking a spot as close as you were to the stage. Your breath quickened as screams got louder and louder, more and more overwhelming. Are these girls next to perform? How are they getting up to those octaves?

A man holding his woman’s hand, trying to get his gal closer to the front, had to have not seen you in front of him as he pushed through. It was at this moment that the loosened gold bracelet sitting around your wrist flew off and landed on the grass next to you. As you reach to pick it up, tears making your vision blurry, the front of a lady’s heel steps on it, the delicate chain snapping. Your gasp was full of fear and surprise, it was as delicate and small as the bracelet. Either the shock was too pure to come out of your mouth and instead went down to your heart or the sound was drowned out by the noise surrounding you. Maybe both. You were too small to be heard.

The offender walked away quickly and nonchalantly as if the metal of your most beloved possession was as soft as grass. Frozen in place before continuing your mission, the seconds you spend bending down to pick it up from the ground felt like hours. Gasping for air as if you were underwater, your shaky hands reach for the bracelet, now split into two pieces of chain. You grab onto whatever you can, fist turning white and the journey back up was even tougher. It felt like your throat was closing up like the pressure changed from the ground to normal height. No breath you take is deep enough for an efficient amount of air. Why can’t you breath? Your nose stuffs up and your lips shake in a shiver. The stampede of hormones is well past by now, you aren’t squished, no ones touching you but at this moment everything feels too close. Everyone’s focus is on Elvis, no one is even acknowledging your existence but it's still embarrassing to feel the tears travel down your face, getting ready to stain the surface.

Not knowing what else to do, you start to hurriedly walk the opposite direction of the stage, trying to find anywhere to go that wasn’t there in the grass. The only time in your life that you are trying to escape that silky Southern voice. You give a small “sorry” here and a tiny “excuse me” there as you make your way past people too entranced by Elvis’ performance to notice that someone was talking to them. Your voice was so weak and shaky that your mind made you doubt if they could even hear you over the noise, doubt if the words came out of your mouth to begin with.

Your walking leads you away from the crowd and your journey ends next to the water fountains outside the restrooms. This mundane spot is where your tired mind decides is good enough refuge to sit, not caring one bit about what you would look like to an observer.

The far away side view of Elvis Presley giving his all on stage and the crowd of people elated below it is more beautiful from back here. Your head leans back against the brick of the wall of the small restroom building. There’s a hope that the act of laying your head back would allow you to take an actual full breath despite the soreness of your throat, a hope that laying your head back would prevent the tears in the corners of your eyes from flowing down and ruining your makeup despite the immense emotion filling your mind.

Stop crying, stop crying, stop crying. There is no reason for the tears. You didn’t die, you didn’t get hurt. But it still hurts. Nothing happened to you, why are you such a scaredy cat? An overdramatic pathetic girl, a jumpy sheep who’s crying wolf, a…

Breathe.

Your view is up and all you see is the stars. It’s a starry night in Florida, the type of starry night that would give Van Gogh the inspiration to paint a masterpiece. The stars are small dots, all could be mistaken for the others accompanying the dark blue. All except for one. One star is larger and burns brighter than the others, if you stare long enough it vibrates in the sky. It shimmers, it gleams, it gives warmth, it gives hope.

For the first time since it was laying on the ground you decide to look at your bracelet, or what was left of it. After opening your fist, besides a few pieces of grass, you see a gold chain split in half. When looking closely at the small diamonds decorating it, you notice that one of them is missing. All of a sudden your lip quivers and your eyes gloss over as if getting the same queue. You glance over at the stage, the one star that can bring you comfort doesn’t even know you are hurting, he isn’t here to protect you. All alone your vision focuses on him with all its might, his moving figure is a little blurry through watery eyes but he’s there and that’s what matters.

The performance takes 5 minutes and 5 hours at the same time. You watched the whole show, your knees up and head resting on crossed arms as the tears dry in your face. It’s when he exits the stage to roaring applause that you get up from your spot on the ground. You know from your time backstage that when Elvis walk’s off out of view from the crowd he is no longer a figure floating on adrenaline, he’s your tired, sweaty best friend who you provide with a water bottle and a hug. You need to see him, you’ve felt alone and abandoned for so long, you need Elvis.

Determinedly, you walk as fast your wobbly legs and painful heels will take you. You are able to easily get past security to get backstage because the man standing in all black guarding the entrance was able to recognize you from when Elvis sent you to the audience earlier. By the time you get to the crowd of crew and band that you’re sure Elvis is in the middle of, your calves are burning with exhaustion. Your eyes move frantically in their search and finally you see him, he has a beautiful glow making him stand out in the pack of people.

You run up as soon as you see him, almost rolling your ankle as you fall onto him, arms enclosing his body with a tight hug. “Elvis!” You thought the tears had run out a while ago but there was something about being in his embrace, feeling his warmth and presence, being filled with his scent that makes every emotion that you experienced alone rise up again inside of you. You sob into his blazer, not letting him go.

At first he’s shocked thinking that fan snuck her way backstage but he hugs regardless, immediately recognizing that it’s you. “Satnin? W-wh-what happened?”

“Oh Elvis, I can’t be out there anymore. It was so scary and there were so many people crowding and I was bout to fall and trip. A-and my clothes are too revealing, they gotta be. People kept looking at me but not the way you look at me, it was real different. I just wanted to be around ya so you could protect m-me but you were performing! I didn’t know what to do…I was all alone. I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

He’s never seen you this vulnerable, this broken. “Did someone hurt you, baby?”

You pull away just a little to look up at him, your face is puffy and red from crying and Elvis swears you’ve never looked so small. You look so young, cheeks and big eyes reminding him of the little girl he met all those years ago, not the femme fatale prototype he saw in the mirror just a few hours ago. A broken girl in a woman’s clothing. Pure Memphis was in your eyes, reminders of simpler times.

“I was so nervous, Elvis. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Honey, I asked ya a question. No one hurt you out there right? Answer me ‘cause if some bastard put his hands on ya, I’ll kill the son of a bitch.”

“No! No one hurt me. I was just so scared…I was just so scared. And look!” You show him the fragments of what once was bravely in your hand. “I broke it, Elvis. I’m so sorry. You got it just for me and it must’ve been so expensive and it fell off my hand and broke. O-one of the things is gone and I don’t even know if I grabbed every piece of the ground. That’s why you can’t buy me stuff, Elvis, I told ya that. I’m too clumsy for nice, fancy things.”

“Shhhh…shhh, baby. We’re going back to the room. It’s all gonna be okay. Forget the damn bracelet, it don't mean anything to me. You’re alright and that’s all that matters. You’re okay now, you’re safe now.”

Elvis puts an arm around your waist and guides you through the crowd, ignoring everyone who tries to talk to him except for a few words when asks, not asks tells, one of the guys to drive the two of you home. He quickly opens the door to a car, rushing you in with him to head home.

Home being the motel. You two are miles from Memphis , the home your heart longs to see again.

The ride back to the motel is quiet. The most quiet it has ever been when the two of you are around each other. The car drives there fast but the journey home always feels shorter than the trip you took to go. That is what keeps the world spinning, if not, hope would be lost too soon.

Within what seems like the blink of an eye or the very long blink of your tiny little car nap, you arrive at the dimly lit sanctuary. Giving the driver a small “thank you”, you and Elvis get out of the car simultaneously and walk silently to the room assigned for the both of you, he opens the door to let you in first.

Immediately after walking in and locking the door, Elvis takes off his blazer, the button up he's wearing underneath now on full display, and he throws it on a chair. You walk over to the bathroom, a dim shade of yellow filling the room after you turn on the light. The reflection in the mirror was horrifying, there was a stark contrast from how amazing and put together you looked earlier. Your mascara is smudged from tears and you try your best to rub the residue off with your finger. Your cheeks can be easily compared to red apples and your lipstick is in need of a reapply. Aware of the fact that you look like a hot mess but not having the strength to do anything about it, your attention goes back to the broken bracelet that you’ve had in your tight grasp ever since it was picked up from the floor.

Elvis sits down on his bed, rubbing his eyes as if deep in thought. The silence of the room can be described as comfortable only for the fact that it differs from the loud noise of the venue.

Giving up in your attempts to put all of the pieces of the bracelet together on the counter, you sigh and turn around to head to the main bedroom. It’s when you see Elvis that you’re reminded of everything and all the emotions start to well up again.

You have to tell him. Break it to him easily. Make up your mind.

Your mind stays fast and something is on the tip of your tongue, your lips quiver and in an ill attempt to display conviction in your statement, it instead comes out in a broken, quiet, and tear stained whisper,

“I can’t do it anymore, E.”

Elvis looks up, his hands dropping from his face to fall on his knees, his voice shows true confusion at your sudden words, “What?”

“I can’t do this. I can’t, Elvis. It ain’t me.” Your hands gesture to yourself, not only the Elvis-picked outfit but all the tears and tiredness apparent as well.

He shakes his head unseriously as if this is all too ridiculous to be real, “What do you mean it ‘ain’t you’? We’re making it you. You just gotta get used to it.”

“You always say that but it ain’t working, I’m not the type of girl you want me to be. I need to go home, I just wanna go home.” This last statement comes out as almost as plea, like a little kid’s complaint when they don’t want to go to school.

“So you’re just gonna leave me? Just like that?” He decides to stand up, questions coming out of his mouth defensively. You hate hearing the tone of disappointment in his voice, it’s as if you are unjustified, unreasonable.

“I’m not leaving you…”

“You’re leaving me.”

Face to face, you look up at him, tears threatening to roll down your face again at his harsh and direct accusations. “Elvis, I’m so tired, so exhausted. I wanna be here for you, I want to be everything you want…You don’t know how bad I want that, how bad I need ya to be happy with me b-but…”

“You’re going back to Memphis? This is so outta the blue, honey. This is coming from nowhere, you’re happy and all of a sudden you wanna go home.”

“I’m sorry, Elvis. I think it’s best that I go home. There ain’t no place for me here, no purpose for me being here, no spot to fill.”

“Leaving this…”

His voice is firm in his words and his hand moves around the room as if you forget where you were and then he continues, “..is leaving me. My life is different now. You can’t just quit when it gets hard. I need your support, you don’t know how much I need you here with me. Don’t just up and leave. I make sure you’re alright, I buy you all this fancy shit, I accommodate for ya and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I’m doing it for my folks and you. That’s what I’ve always told ya, what I’ve always told myself. It’s for Mama, Daddy, and you. That’s it. All of this ain’t for me, it’s never been. Let me satisfy you. This is your place, that’s the spot you’re filling.”

The sound of your voice raises and your tone has changed to match his in attempts to defend yourself, “Don’t act like I’m abandoning you, Elvis. I’ve supported you ever since I met you. I don’t need fancy things to make me happy, it ain’t about that. I don’t need you spending a dollar on me. I’m just a regular old girl from Memphis and for some reason your mind thinks I’m someone else.”

“You’ve always been you. Ain’t no other girl like you. You know that you’re special, I’ve known ya for so long.” He reassures you as if stating the obvious, something you should know and not be doubting. Something that for some odd reason you have seemed to forget.

“That’s the problem. You’re so focused on what I represent, how I make you feel. I’m not some memento from Memphis that you can carry around in your pocket like spare change. That don’t make me sound like a person. I’m all alone. I’m surrounded by so many people, been places I’ve never stepped foot it in, and I’ve never been so lonely. You don’t give me a second thought. I’m only here when it’s convenient for you, when it’s convenient for me to exist. That ain’t friendship. I’m only here when you’re struggling, I’m struggling, Elvis.”

His voice gets even louder and at this point it’s almost like a contest of who can outdo the other in loudness of volume and truth of defensive statements. “You don’t think I’m lonely? You don’t think it’s overwhelming for me too? Everyone thinks life is all good and dandy for Elvis Presley. Sun is shining all the time when you’re tryna support everyone. It’s all fun and games when you get all the pressure on your shoulders, the attention from everyone, the press hounding ya…”

You can’t help but roll your eyes in annoyance and throw your hands down in exasperation, “Here we go again. You’re the only one going through things. We’re all just planets going around your sun. No one else is allowed to feel? I’m trying to get you to understand what I’m feeling and it’s all about you again.”

The smart choice would be to calm the situation down but your honor can’t let you. To you he is the Elvis you’ve known for years and years, one that isn’t any better than you.

His face gets a deeper shade of red as if you have finally struck a nerve and he points his finger at you accusingly, “You aren’t gonna disrespect me like that. Acting like I’m some selfish bastard.”

“I never said that-” You back up as you realize it has started to get too serious, too real. You’ve never had an argument this momentous and your voice reflects the shock.

“That’s the last thing you’re gonna do, woman. If you wanna spend all your time in Memphis, do that. Live your whole life sitting in that same ole house, I don’t give a damn.” Annoyance seeps out of his voice and you aren't sure if it’s stubbornness or irresponsibility that makes you keep arguing.

“Why am I an extra in your life, Elvis? My whole life revolves around you and you don’t give me the time of day. I hate that I’ve taught myself I’m only good when you’re around. It makes me sick to my stomach. What happened to ‘we’ll always be together?’ We haven’t been for a long time now.”

“Then why do it in the first place? Why let me drag you around if you’re gonna nag and complain about how miserable you are? Why say yes?”

“Because I love you Elvis!” At this moment his face softens immediately.

Your voice breaks into a cry as the strong walls you have built up from the ash have broken down again, “A-and I’m so scared, I’m terrified. Everything’s changing and I’m terrified of losing ya. I wanna make you happy, I want you to love me. But maybe I’m not cut out for it. I’m not good enough for this life.”

He reaches out to hold your hands, “Don’t say that—”

“I wish with every bone in my body that I was but I’m not. I can’t be the girl that you want me to be. Maybe you’ve grown from needing me and I’m still stuck. But if that’s true I gotta sort it out alone, I can’t hold you back.”

In this moment his lips touch yours and you are taken aback for a second from shock, immediately you close your eyes and kiss him back just as passionately. The kiss is years of pent up emotions and years of confessions unsaid.

He pulls away, puts his hands on your hips to stabilize you, and speaks confidently, “I love you, Satnin. I always have and I always will. If I haven’t been showing ya that recently then I’m real stupid. You’re all I want you to be, I beg ya believe me. I don’t know what kinda girl you think you can’t be, but we’ll sort it out.. I’ll make sure we see it through because I love you. I’m in love with you and my biggest regret is not telling you sooner.”

You’re at a loss for a verbal response so your body’s natural instinct takes over and it’s your turn to kiss him, both of your hands cup his face as your lips take ownership of what they’ve always wanted. It’s just as passionate as the kiss you two shared prior, but this one is full of heat. His hands roaming up and down your body feeling anything he can as his lips focus on yours just adds to the friction.

It’s a desire that fills and energizes, a desire that refuses to be tamed just by the touching of lips and moving of mouths. The tension in the room is different from the cold atmosphere of a few minutes ago; it’s dirty, it’s sloppy, it’s sexual. The seconds of kissing turns into a few minutes of a make out session, one that has only occurred before in your fantasies. You’ve both been standing for a while but neither of your legs are tired.

The kiss is only broken when Elvis moves his hand to your ass and after a squeeze he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms do the same around his neck.

He whispers seductively in a tone you’ve never heard him use with you before, “I’m gonna show you how much I love ya. Just you wait. I wanna make it up to you.”

He carries you over to his bed and places you gently onto the soft sheets. Elvis kneels down on the ground in front of you as you lay, biting your lip in anticipation. His hands go to take off your heels, the ones that were killing your feet earlier but adrenaline dulled the pain. “Don’t want your little sooties to be all sore now.”

You blush light pink at the baby slang for your feet, the softness of his words contrasting from the passionate feelings of this moment.

It’s when he comes back up from his spot on the ground to lean on top of you on the bed, the veins on his arms showing themselves off beautifully as he holds himself up, that you realize the seriousness of what’s about to happen.

His lips move from your mouth, down your chin and to your neck. At first it starts with little ticklish pecks, then sucking on your skin that is sure to leave marks all over you in the morning. It isn’t until the first small moan escapes your mouth that you realize the seriousness of the moment. Your back instinctively arches as he moves to your collarbone; it’s as if your body has known for a while what’s going to happen, what it wants to happen, and your brain has just unfuzzed enough to catch up. He wants to have sex with you and you want to have sex with him too.

The arch in your back gives him the cue to lift you even more up to reach the zipper on the back of your top. Your heart pangs and he lifts his mouth from your skin when he notices the way you shiver at his touch on the small of your back. “I-Is this alright? Are you comfortable with this? I don’t wanna move forward if you aren’t comfy.”

“This is more than alright, Elvis. You can keep going…please.” He nods without saying a word and uses his right and unzips your top seamlessly, it’s like it was meant to be taken off this way. The only non gentle part of this process is him taking the top in his hands and looking at it before throwing the garment across the room. This took you by surprise at first but he did buy it for you, so you suppose it’s his to take off and throw. Before you know it your bra is unclipped as well and the room’s cold air hits your warm chest making you shiver again.

“Wow, honey.” Elvis’ licks his lips as he takes you in. Your breasts move up and down with your breathing. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding ‘em from me…”

He bends down and gives each of your breasts a long kiss, evoking a small giggle from you. His mind compares your laugh to the most beautiful of melodies.

His eyes bounce back and forth between your giggle-induced bouncing breaths as he begins to talk to them. “She’s been covering yall up? Hiding you two from Elvis? That aint fair ain’t it?”

“Elvis stop that.” You give a small eye roll as the laughter vibrates your whole body and the smile on your face lights up the room.

He smiles as he gives your nipple a small nibble in order to get another reaction from your body before looking up at your eyes again. Your blush reminds him of a pretty picture, “It’s like ya locked me out of heaven.”

You laugh at his exaggeration, “You’re too much.”

“You’re just enough.” He kisses your lips again.

He moves his mouth down your stomach and stops when met with another roadblock: your skirt. He just shakes his head and the zipper is undone faster than the one that was keeping your top together. You lift your ass to help shimmy out of the fabric and with Elvis’ help it rolls down your legs to drop on the ground between his feet.

The sight he sees below him at this moment is one he has only seen in his wet dreams, one he has moaned about when erections snuck up on him, one that makes him get even harder in his pants then he already is.

You lay before him with the cutest shade of pink flushing your face, your lips slightly parted as you stare at him awaiting his next move, your chest fully exposed as if inviting him in, and the only item of clothing still keeping some sort of mystery from his eyes is the cotton white panties on your bottom half. It’s the only thing that he isn’t quick to take off once it gets in his way, it’s like a gift on Christmas. A special present you’ve been anticipating all year, for him longer.

Your blush gets even redder in embarrassment as you assume that he’s looking at the growing wet spot dampening the fabric, staining the sea of innocence. It’s one you can’t explain, a wetness that you only get when around him. One that makes you clamp your legs together subconsciously whenever an innuendo hits the right spot. It’s one that calls for obliviously necessary panty changes when you rush to bathroom expecting your monthly blood, to pull down your pants and find out that the “blood” is a pool of translucency.

“Can I take these off, honey?” His fingers play with the upper band of your underwear restlessly, waiting for permission to get exploring a new world. Lewis and Clark getting ready to explore Louisiana. Settlers waiting to go travel west in the search for gold. Elvis doubts that any gold buried in California is a good comparison to the teasing quality of your snatch against the see through white veil of your panties. He looks at you patiently, you’re the fucking American Dream.

You nod your head shyly at him, still unsure of the fact that you’re about to be truly exposed before him. It’s a vulnerable state in which all humans come. Adam and Eve weren’t aware they were naked until after they sinned and you’re about to eat the apple.

Unexpectedly, Elvis shakes his head at you as if you got an answer wrong in class and he’s trying to lightly break it to you. He will break it to you, firm but encouraging, dominant but soft, “Nuh uh. Gotta use your words, baby. Be a big girl and answer me, I need to hear ya say yes. You usually ain’t got no issue with that. Such a talker and now you’re as quiet as a dormouse?”

“Yes. You can ta-take them off.” Your quiet voice doesn’t beat the dormouse accusations and you can’t help but be embarrassed by your weak stutter but you are all the way sure that you want this. You’ve never wanted anything more.

“Thank you.” Elvis wasn't gonna fight you on that, he was a racing horse ready for the starting gate to open, a hungry tiger waiting to pounce. After hearing the sweetness of your consent, there never was a sweeter sound, he gently but efficiently pulls down your panties, exposing yet another part of your delicate body to the cold air. With the same fate as your black skirt, your panties start to be rolled down your legs but instead of letting them reach the ground, Elvis lifts both of your legs slightly to grab the white fabric and put it in the pocket of his pants. He knows that the pants won’t stay on for much longer but even when they eventually fall to the floor, his party favor will stay secure.

He does a full look over you again from your face down to your pussy, a sight that for a while he thought he’d never get the blessing of seeing in person. A sight that there are no words to describe quite right. His voice is breathless as he speaks to you, “You’re gorgeous.”

You’re too focused on looking at his concentrated face to notice his fingers going to touch your soaked cunt, a high pitched moan of surprise leaves your mouth. Not only surprised at his tender fingers touching the hissing heat, but surprised at how fantastic it feels. The two fingers making contact are the perfect balance of soft and calloused. They go back and forth, exploring your pillowy pink cunt like it’s a new guitar waiting to be tested out. Even with just a few seconds of touch, your arousal coats him welcomingly already. “All this slick is for me? I did this to ya? All this for Lil’ Elvis, he’s a lucky guy.”

“Al-all for you, Elvis. Always for you.”

Elvis in all his experience knows exactly where to go to make you twitch in satisfaction, the tiny bundle of nerves is the sweet spot. His fingers move in a circular motion, his fast pace never tiring. Your moans start to pick up and Elvis swears it’s the best sound he’s ever had the privilege to have heard in his 21 years of living. The moans are soft and breathy for the most part, here and there you let out a deep alto coming from your core.

“Oh, Elvis!” The first yell of his name is like ecstasy for him.

As if suddenly aware where you are, a motel room, not a floating cloud in heaven, you bite your lip to be careful. You can just imagine the weird stares you’d get from people in the morning, especially the ones that know it was your high voice disrupting an otherwise peaceful late night.

As if noticing those satisfying, constient noises of pleasure being muffled, rather terribly, Elvis looks up from your distracting pussy for the first time in a while. His fingers never stop their circles on your clit. “Let me hear ya. Don’t keep those sweet noises from me, darling. Don’t ever do that.” You're amazed at how he can multitask, a small reprimand comes out of his mouth while his fingers give the most pleasing feeling in the world, all simultaneously.

Remembering faintly behind the wispy clouds fogging your mind the loud sounds that you’ve heard from other guests while staying in random rooms around the country, your concerns manage to string together a sentence. “Th-the walls are thin. People can’t hear m-me.”

People can hear you. They can hear you well, what you meant is that you don’t want people to hear you but the words didn’t quite come out that way.

“You want em to hear ya moaning and screaming? Gonna up the ante, doll?”

“N-no, no! Don’t wanna…don’t want them.”

“Oh. Well t-those folks don’t matter none. Nothing matters right now but you and me. Me and you.”

To drive this idea into your mind, to take your worrying head off of consequences, one of Elvis’ fingers makes his way inside of you gently. Your walls naturally squeeze around his finger and his cock pulses in his pants in pure jealousy, Lil’ Elvis getting impatient for his turn. His long finger curls just a bit before sitting still inside of you for a second, your button hissing at being left abandoned. He moves his finger in and out of you gently as he speaks, “Jeez, baby. When was the last time someone touched ya? You’re as tight as a virgin.”

You freeze in that moment, for you are a virgin and he senses this immediately from your hesitation, the way your bright eyes widen and long eyelashes flutter as if a secret just became uncovered. From your reaction you’d think he started fucking you already. “Elvis…I-I…”

“Oh. You are…? A w-while ago you were with that…thought you were….Never mind that. I know I gotta give ya that extra attention now. I’m gonna get ya prepped for me, honey. Ju-just wish ya would’ve spoken up and let a guy a know…It’s a big thing for ya pretty head to keep secret.”

Having a bigger duty and responsibility on his shoulders after learning that you’ve never taken a cock before, Elvis knows he’s gotta take extra time with you and he has any complaints about that. Even if you weren’t a virgin, he would’ve been mindful with you anyways for it was the gentleman thing to do. Elvis Presley might be a horny man, a horny man who’s cock wants nothing more to be buried inside of you fucking you senseless, but he’s not selfish son of a bitch.

He wiggles and works a second finger inside of you, your eyebrows furrow and eyelids close at the sensation. As he sets his pace inside of your pussy, your moans get louder as if building up to something. You make no attempt to hold them back, but even if you tried there’s no way you could for the pleasure was too strong.

“Elvis! O-oh…yes, yes!”

“There you go…Let all that shit go, all those bad thoughts. Atta girl.”

You feel something build deep inside of your lower stomach, it’s like a fire being fed. When Elvis feels your walls start to clench, he stops and immediately slips out of you. It’s quick and easy since you are so slick.

What you didn’t expect more than his touch leaving you was an anger building inside of you. Your brows furrowed in confusion and your voice was quick to implore him for answers, “What the….? Why’d you stop? You can’t just—”

He chuckles, making you more annoyed. “Shhh….Imma give ya what you want, Imma give ya everything ya need.”

In his kneeling position at the edge of the bed he adjusts a little and moves his head down so it’s face to face with your cunt. “Such a needy girl with an even greedier pussy. Greedy for something it don’t even know.”

You whine as your body shimmy’s down further, desperate to meet his mouth. He puts his hands on your thighs, opening your legs more and keeping you stable at the same time. “Both of you are whining for me, huh? I’ll take care of ya.”

In that moment he kisses your cunt with a small peck and your mind flips on itself. His laugh vibrates your pussy. He’s amused by the fact that if that tiny kiss made you jump you had a bigger surprise waiting for you and oh he couldn’t wait to show you. He’s the only one who knows what’s coming next.

Elvis’ mouth makes contact with your cunt again, eating you out with unending strokes of vigor and passion like it’s what he was put on this earth to do, he’s close to the finish line of something he’s been dreaming of accomplishing for a long time: helping you reach your finish line.

Your legs bend around his head, encasing him in paradise. Your left hand meets and intertwines with his right one, holding hands is such an innocent gesture at a time like this but it’s so perfect. In contrast, your right hand grips the sheets with whitening knuckles. “Yes, Elvis! Just like that….Oh Lord.”

His tongue has no mercy as it devours you, he’s like a starving animal. Your hips, also chasing, buck up to meet his mouth halfway. He works you perfectly and it isn’t long before the storm starts to brew in your lower tummy again, like lightening is waiting to strike.

“Please, please, oh please, please.” You don’t even know exactly what you’re pleading for, just some release, some finish.

“I’m…I’m...oh my God.” Your words serve as a strong caffeine as Elvis starts to suck on your sensitive clit and that’s when the band breaks and you reach euphoria. A wave of satisfaction floods your body like the ocean, it's a feeling so foreign but so instinctual, new but always meant to be. Your moans are easily the loudest they’ve been so far and your legs start to shake intensely. The room seems to spin around you as you start to see the stars, the same ones you saw decorating the night sky outside. Elvis licks and sucks you through your high, tasting the sweet honey of your release on his face as your legs close tightly around his head, making him go deeper.

Moving your hips against him to ride out your finish, your body feels limp as you try to catch your breath. Elvis lifts his head and looks at you with a grin, an attempt to lift your hand to wipe his face is a failure since your hand shakes as soon as you bring it up and ends up falling right back on the sheets. He licks his lips and comes back up to kiss you.

His grin is boyish as if proud that he was the one to make you feel that way. The first man to give you an orgasm, the first man to make you writhe and moan, the first man who’s name is screamed by that parted mouth of yours. Hopefully the only man to ever make you do those things. His mind will remember this in the future when met with any of your smartass remarks, eye rolls, or teasing. Is it wrong for him to love that? Too damn bad he’d say.

He whispers in your ear, thick southern drawl and all, “You feel better, mhm? You were being so good for me, honey. You taste like some honey too, no doubt.”

Your voice is as shaky as your legs were just a second ago, “I l-love you, Elvis.”

“I love you too, baby.”

A need to give back fills your heart and you somehow manage in this jelly-like state to sit up, your hands going towards Elvis’ pants. When you cup the hard bulge in his trousers, his head falls back with a groan. “F-fuck…see what you do to me?” You nod, amazed at the fact that you are the reason for his arousal. When he unzips his pants and pulls down his underwear with them, he is as hard as a rock, standing at attention because of you.

After taking off his bottom garments, he kneels on the sheets of the bed and goes to unbutton his white dress shirt as you stare at his cock. Assuming that this is the first one you have ever seen, he isn’t all anxious but is instead proud of Lil’ Elvis and the gawking reaction he is getting from you.

The only time you had seen a penis was in middle school sex education class but that was only a drawing of one. It was 9am and the black and white non-detailed sketch of the male anatomy was met with giggles by your immature classmates. For you it was met with a yawn considering the time was 9 in the morning and your only objective in that time slot is to stay awake.

Fast forward to the present day sitting in front of a hard cock, the one belonging to Elvis Presley, was nothing short of fascinating. This one differed in some ways from the one you were shown years back in class, not only was it more detailed and quite a bit bigger, but there was extra skin covering the tip. This observation interests you and with curiosity getting the best of your racing mind, you bring your hand up to wrap your fingers around the thick of his length and pull just a little bit of skin back gently with a soft up and down motion.

When you do this, your glimpse at a pink tip and a bead of liquid forming in the slit was just a small glance because Elvis twitched around you immediately, a small moan. In fear that you’ve hurt the man you love, your hand immediately draws back as if he was a stone that burnt you.

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt ya, E. I should’ve asked, I really should’ve. You asked before—”

“Honey, honey!” He cuts your worries off. “It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me. I-It’s ju-just felt really good. The way you got all shaky when I kissed ya all nice? It’s the same thing.”

“Oh.” Just a simple motion would help him reach that dream-like state you were in just a few minutes ago? It seems like women were more complicated.

You weren’t oblivious to the fact that many women took cock inside their mouths to pleasure their men. You’ve overheard Elvis and his Memphis Mafia talk about women “giving them head” which you have assumed is a girl making them fall apart with just her head. There’s only one hole on the face big enough to please so your mind decided to fit the puzzle pieces together on its own, unsure if your puzzle matched the truth.

If you knew how to perform this critically acclaimed “head giving” you would in an attempt to satisfy your already watering mouth, but in fear of the unknown you decided to stick to what you’ve been told feels good. You decide to keep pumping him, up and down, up and down. His voice is breathy with encouraging praises. “J-just like that, baby. So good for me. Making me feel so nice…so nice.”

It’s pure vulnerability sitting across from each other fully naked, you pleasing him right after he pleased you. It’s when your fingertip goes to swipe at the beads decorating the slit of his red tip that he stops you with a hiss.

“You’re gonna finish me quick if ya keep on. Now Lil’ Elvis may not mind either way, you’ll find out he’s a horny thing, but it’s better if I’m in ya. I wanna be inside ya. Lay down, honey.”

You do as he says and lay down obediently, trying to mentally prepare yourself by taking deep breaths.

Part of him wanted to take you from behind, fucking you fast and rough until tears form on your face, tears of pleasure this time. But knowing what he knows about your lack of past experience and wanting to see your face as you take him for the first time, he’ll have you lay down comfortably. He has no problem at all either way, he’d even be pleased if the night ended right here without him coming to that sweet finish. A day ended after eating you out is a day well spent in his book.

“Imma go real slow. It might sting a bit cause you’re all fresh and new down there but you’re a big girl. My strong little satnin, I know you can do it. You’ll take me.”

“Okay.” You remember his demand earlier to use your words to respond and you do so.

He leans over you, getting in a good position to enter. While rubbing his tip against your cunt in preparation, edging you both in the process, he swears that he could finish right there easily.

You look down at the spot where you are to connect with amazement. Knowing for a fact that Elvis is anything but a virgin, you trust his skill and watch his process. It seems planned out prefectures and oh how glad you are to have a perfect man. No one on earth is perfect but Elvis Presley is so perfectly Elvis Presley. The things he excels at never disappoint.

You feel the burning plunge of his entry and immediately both hands go to grip as much of the white sheets as they can. Once he has the tip in his eyes go up and down interchangeably, watching both your face and your pussy while you take him. It’s better than any movie.

He continues on his slow journey inside of you. Meanwhile, you’re a pain you’ve never felt before, no way things are supposed to go up there. No way things are designed specifically to go up there. If they were, why is it so big?

His voice is breathy and his eyebrows furrow in concentration. “F-fuck…Tight ass pussy. Sucking me in.”

Your groan is a mix of pleasure at his words and of pain at the impaling you’re experiencing. For a split second you think about looking away, like not watching the needle go in you at the doctors office, but you can’t.

He’s only about half way in when you convince yourself that there is no way you can take more.

“It hurts like hell, Elvis. S-stop, just for a second. I need to breathe..I can’t breathe.” He halts the second you say stop and his attention is strictly on your face, his eyes full of concern. Tears start to form in the corner of your eyes as your breath starts to pick up.

“Breathe, baby. It’s alright. Take your time.” The only thing he wants more than bottoming out is for you to be comfortable. He wants to go deeper, he wants to fuck you until you can’t remember your name but his love and concern for you comes first always.

“I don’t think I can, Elvis. It’s too big, it’s huge.” These comments come not as an attempt to enlarge his ego (they are in fact doing that) but of actual concern for the state of your situation.

“Shhh…it’s gonna fit. God didn’t make men and women not fit with one another, he made us perfect. You just gotta relax or else you’ll just tighten up again. Don’t mess up our progress, honey, it’ll hurt even more.”

It’s hard to relax when you’ve got the long lost cousin of metal pipe piercing into your body. You don’t say that aloud though. With a deep breath you continue, “Okay, you can keep going….just slow.”

He heeds your instructions and continues plunging into you with small rolls of his hips until he bottoms out with a loud grown, officially balls deep inside of you. You two moan simultaneously as he starts moving in and out carefully. Beautiful waves of pain and pleasure perfectly balanced move through your body.

“Fuck. Just like that.” Truth was you weren’t doing anything but moaning and arching your back, but that was all he needed. Just your body responding to his.

Your hips going up involuntarily to meet his thrusts is a signal for Elvis to go faster and that he does. He moves deeper and harder inside of you, one hand showing its veins as it grips the soft sheets next to your head and the other gripping hard onto the bone of your hip.

“Oh my God, Oh my God…” You gasp and bite your lip. Everything about this is so vulgar but so beautiful. Two beautiful bodies focused on nothing but making love. A moment like this is something you’d dream about at night and then in the morning sun pray to God for forgiveness from such thoughts. Now you are yelling up for mercy in a different way.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his rhythmic thrusts never slowing. “It’s Elvis, honey. I’m the one doin’ it to ya.” You moan from the vibrations of his voice against your skin. His lips move smoothly to your neck, sucking on your skin to mark you as his own. He’s the one who ruined you and he wants the whole world to know.

As he makes a masterpiece of your neck, your hands grab onto his back, fingernails sure to leave red tracks. You’re both making your presence known on eachother’s bodies. Your cunt makes its satisfaction known with loud gushes going hand in hand with your loud moans. There is no vibrato left inside of you.

“Elvis! Oh yes!”

The man orchestrating it all lifts his wet pink lips from your collarbone, breath heavy. “So perfect. You’re made for me, I’ve always known you were made to be mine.”

“Mmmm….”

“I’m so cl-close….I’m gonna….” He wants to finish inside you, it would be his first time coming inside of a woman unprotected and he wants that special woman to be you. But he can’t. He knows deep down that it would be one of the most irresponsible decisions he could make. It would be a selfish decision.

It wouldn’t be in your freshly-fucked best interest, it wouldn’t be in his new careers best interest, It wouldn’t be in the best interest of the fans having to wait for Elvis Presley to get off of paternity leave.

If only he could fill you up without getting you pregnant. That’ll have to be a fantasy between him and his fist.

Quickly, he pulls out of you to prepare for his impending release giving his cock a few pumps to try to replace the warmth from your pulsing walls with his hand. Finally, a stream of white liquid comes bursting out of the slit of his and you watch with short breathed awe as his immediately head leans back, mouth moaning your name over and over like a prayer.

You’re the one who made him feel so good that he reached the clouds. Knowing that it’s Elvis’ turn to see the starry sky, experiencing the same state of bliss that you were able to encounter earlier, makes your heart so happy.

Your belly now is feeling a different type of warmth. it’s his release making a mess of your stomach, spurting like paint all over you. As soon as it’s all out of his system, Lil’ Elvis giving the show its last encore, the man in front of you cups your face into his hands and kisses you. He rolls to lay his body next to yours, your lips now the only parts still connecting.

Elvis pulls away and both of you try to catch your breaths.

“I love you, Satnin.” He whispers softly.

You respond back just as gently, “I love you too.”

That was…an experience. If you got this far thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you enjoyed. My inbox is always open for questions, comments, and concerns. I take requests but there is no guarantee I’ll get to them. (they’ll probably give me inspiration to write more often though). Call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me. Adieu my loves. ✨

[cycat-carisi]

I Left My Pretty Baby With Ralphie

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader

Summary: If you haven't heard the tune "Ralphie" by Joe's former band, Post Animal, check it out! The tune inspired me to write a little thing about our favorite former King of Hawkins High and the massive crush he has on the reader.

Tags: Fluff, Summer of '85, Post-season 3, Pre-season 4, Steve Harrington has it bad and he really doesn't know what to do about it.

Warnings: some alcohol consumption, partying high schoolers, spoilers for season 3

Length: ~2.5k

A/N: This is pure, unedited word vomit. I don't have the time to write right now and yet here we are. (:

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

Steve should have known better. Afterall, when one king falls, another is always waiting to take his place. Steve’s fall from grace had been less than glorious. Billy had shown up to claim the crown and had rubbed Steve’s face in it for good measure. And now, with Billy having succumbed to the Mind Flayer, the position of king had once again been ripe for the taking. This time it was little Ralphie Baker who rose to the occasion – well, not so little anymore. Over the summer of ’85 he had finally gotten a long-overdue growth spirt in both height and muscle. At six feet tall and a hundred and sixty pounds, Little Ralphie Baker’s ascent to the throne came just in time for his senior year.

Steve wouldn’t have been so bothered by Little Ralphie Baker if it hadn’t been for what happened at the last house party of the summer…

~~“It’s not in the way that you walk that gets me off. It’s the way that you think. It’s the way that you talk.”~~

The summer of 1985 started out pretty decent except for the obvious humiliation of working at a place like Scoops Ahoy. Sure, Steve struck out with the ladies and sure, Robin made fun of him for it, but at least working at the mall allowed him to see the people he cared about regularly. People including you.

You were Robin’s age, about to go into your last year of high school. After having been paired for a group project in one of your classes last year, you found out how awesome Robin actually was. The two of you became fast friends and during the summer you would visit her at Scoops for free samples and a back entrance into the theatre.

That’s also how Steve met you. The first time Robin introduced you to him made quite the impression on Steve. After all, he had come to respect Robin’s judgement on a lot of things, so, for you to be worthy of Robin’s friendship already spoke volumes about the kind of person you were.

As time went on, you and Steve found yourselves getting along really well too. So much so that it became the highlight of Steve’s day when you’d walk into the ice cream parlor with a lovely smile springing to life when you spotted him. The two of you would chat on his break and Steve was more than happy to show another member of Hawkins High that he wasn’t the same person that he used to be.

The lovely friendship between the two of you continued to grow, even after the Mind Flayer wrecked havoc on Hawkins. Instead of free ice cream, both Steve and Robin would let you use their Family Video discount; the store being your new place to hang out over the remainder of summer break.

Having such a strong and effortless connection, it was no wonder Steve found himself falling for you: your pretty smile, the shy way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear when he gave you a compliment, and especially how you just seemed to get him. He never felt judged when he was around you, only accepted. In his head and in his heart, Steve knew that he loved you; he had just never found the courage to tell you yet.

That’s why the last house party of the summer bugged Steve so much. You had generously offered him to tag along with yourself and Robin, but the former king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington, had completely blown it.

~~“But I can’t tell this girl what’s on my mind. And it seems it's getting closer all the time.”~~

The night had started out fine. Your little trio flitted from social group to social group, sipping drinks and exchanging pleasantries with the other guests. Being the only one with a car or driver’s license, Steve had graciously agreed to be the DD for the night allowing you and Robin to let loose to rhythms like Phil Collins’ Sussudio blasting over the boom box.

Seeing you so relaxed and carefree sent shock waves straight to Steve’s heart. And when you rushed over to grab his hands in yours to dance, his heart nearly stopped altogether. Your cheeks were rosy from laughing and the slight buzz of alcohol, yet Steve still found you gazing at him with the same softness that you always did, even while twirling him around to the beat.

Then abruptly, the upbeat song came to an end, switching to the ballad of Bryan Adam’s Heaven. Awkwardly, Steve released himself from your grasp as if the lyrics would reveal every feeling that he was too nervous to share on his own. A party like this just wasn’t the time.

Steve saw you glancing at him with a mixture of confusion and something that bordered on hurt as he slowly retreated backwards.

Before anything further could transpire, the sound of Robin’s slurred voice calling out Steve’s name caused both your heads to turn. She clearly had been sipping back a few more drinks than you had. You both went to her aid finding her contemplating whether or not she was going to throw up.

“Take her home,” you told Steve, sympathetically. “There’s nothing more humiliating than puking at another person’s party.”

Steve knew you were right. Even though the night was young, Robin’s inability to hold her liquor warranted her an early retirement.

“You wanna stay longer?” Steve asked you while propping Robin against his shoulder.

Steve watched as you turned to glance around the room. Some of your other classmates you actually liked were still here to chat with. He tried to hide his desire to steal you away for some quiet one-on-one time after dropping Robin off. Steve hated to admit to himself just how often he daydreamed of taking you out for late night milkshakes at the local diner.

“I think…” you began, shaking Steve out of his thoughts. “hmm…are you coming back?” you asked him, almost shyly.

“I uh, I can if you want me to. After all, I did drive you here.” Steve shifted to reposition a now sleepy and very slouched Robin while simultaneously trying his damnedest to avoid your eyes.

“Steve,” you beckoned him to look at you. “I didn’t invite you with us just to be our driver. I wanted you to have some fun too.”

Steve knew that. He knew that you actually cared about him and wanted him to be a part of your life. Yet, Steve wasn’t convinced that you’d want him to be part of your life in the same way he did.

“Yeah, sure then,” he replied simply. “I’ll come back later. Will you be okay here by yourself? I know you didn’t have as much to drink as this one,” he gave Robin a nudge causing her to groan. “But still. Parties can get weird nonetheless.”

His concern caused you to smile that gorgeous smile he loved so much. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll be okay though. Promise.”

And with that, Steve set off to haul Robin home. But it was as he was leaving the house that he heard the voice of Little Ralphie Baker enter the room.

~~“I went to the party and I left my pretty baby with Ralphie, baby, and now I’m alone.”~~

Steve returned about a half an hour later ready to laugh with you about how difficult Robin was to sneak into her house while wasted. She was all uncoordinated limbs, swapping between jaunty giggles and annoyed groans. Except as he entered through the living room’s front door, his ears were met with the sound of your melodic laughter. There you were, holding your solo cup and stood beside none other than Little Ralphie Baker. His now broad shoulders were squared to your petite frame, narrowed eyes gazing down upon what Steve could only imagine was your chest and, of course, smiling a devilish grin. And you – you were taking it all in! Just standing there chatting and laughing with the new king of Hawkins High.

Steve felt his stomach knot in jealousy while it seemed as though his heart fell right out of his chest. Sure, he could waltz over there and butt in. He knew exactly what Ralphie was doing; Steve used to pull the same shallow moves himself. But the fact of the matter was, despite how much Steve loved you, you were never really his to lose to begin with.

Steve wanted to run. He wanted to jump in his car, speed home and burry himself under his duvet. He hated how each and every time he felt something genuine for a girl, she never felt the same way. Steve had tried so hard to change and be a better person, yet he still couldn’t find anyone to love him for who he had become. He thought that person could have been you, but once again he had clearly been wrong.

~~“And now I'm feeling something and I know she's doing better, without me, baby guess I'll go home whether that's with or without you.”~~

The gravel crunched under his sneakers as Steve marched himself back to his car. He got in and slammed the door, hands slapping against the steering wheel. He slid one off, about to put keys in the ignition when he stopped. He had made you a promise. Even if he refused to witness the rest of the party, he would still wait here to drive you home when you were ready to leave.

With a sigh, Steve turned the key only slightly, allowing his radio to come to life. Like a curse, Heaven’s romantic notes filled the car, and Steve yanked the dial to the right until something more upbeat replaced it. He let his head bounce back against the headrest and closed his eyes, dreading the inevitably long wait until you were finished partying with Little Ralphie Baker.

Then suddenly, a soft rap sounded on the passenger’s side window of the burgundy bimmer. Steve jumped, peering through fallen locks of brown hair towards the sound. It was you.

You gave a small wave and smile as he reached over to unlock the door and let you in. Confusion was etched across his entire face. “What are you doing here?” he stammered.

You gazed at him with your own hint of bewilderment. “Uh, getting in your car?” you reflected the question back at him as you buckled your belt.

“Why?” he said a little too coldly. “The party isn’t over yet.” Steve couldn’t bare to look at you any longer. He didn’t want to show you just how stupidly jealous seeing you with someone else had made him.

“What the heck has gotten into you, Steve?” you fired back, angling yourself towards him in the velvety seat.

Steve paused. This was not the can of worms he wanted to open right now. You still had alcohol in your system and Steve was high on his feelings for you. It could never end well, he thought. “Nothing,” he dismissed, once again reaching for the ignition.

“Steve,” you spoke smoothly. Then your hand reached for his forearm. Steve swore your touch would burn a hole in his sweater, but that voice, that sweet, calm, soothing voice...it compelled him stop and turn.

“What’s wrong?” you asked when he finally met your gaze.

Those big eyes of yours were so sincere and so sweet. How could he not tell you the truth? “I just,” he began, voice low in the small space of the car. “I just thought you’d want to stay longer. I walked in earlier and saw you with Ralphie Baker. Seemed like you two were getting along well.”

“Ralphie Baker?” you scoffed. “Ralphie Baker?! I couldn’t get that creep away from me fast enough!” you exclaimed. “He wouldn’t stop staring at my boobs! I didn’t want to make a scene or else I would have given him a slap.”

With your words, the vice around Steve’s chest suddenly released. His eyebrows unknitted and those dark eyes lit up in the dim light. “Really?” he spoke meekly. Shaking himself out of it, he continued, “Sorry, I should have stepped in to help…”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you assured him. “You came back and that’s all that matters.” Steve found himself captivated by the smile you give him. Maybe he was imagining things, but he was fairly certain that this very smile was one reserved only for him.

Your hand still rested on his forearm, thumb now rubbing lightly over the material of his shirt. The little gesture caused Steve to return a heart-felt grin. Maybe now wasn’t such a horrible time to lay it all on the line. It’s a huge leap, but the pounding of his heart was never going to stop if he didn’t say something.

“I,” Steve inhaled deeply. “I promised that I would come back, and I care too much about you to ever go back on my word.” That was a start. Just come out and say it, Steve. He examined your features closely for any signs of discomfort. Instead, all he found was intrigue. “I,” he began again. It was hard to hear his own thoughts over the sound of his pulse in his ears.

But before he could finish, Steve witnessed you leaning across the center console, hand using his forearm for leverage. And the next thing he knew, your lips were brushing softly against his. The kiss was better than he could have ever imagined. A million butterflies exploded inside his tummy and he found his free hand making its way to cup your cheek of its own accord.

As the pair of you leaned back, Steve’s face was plastered with a dopey grin. Yours was in much the same state. “I’ve been trying to figure you out all summer, Harrington,” you whispered. “I just never knew if I was reading the signals clearly.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot towards the roof. “Really?” he spoke gently.

“You were jealous about Ralphie, weren’t you?” you quipped. Steve opened his mouth to deny but you quickly added, “It wasn’t my intention, just so you know, but seeing you out here moping at least gave me the confirmation I needed.”

A warmth spread throughout Steve’s chest. “I guess I’m not so good at hiding my feelings, huh?”

You shook your head at him affectionately.

He smirked. “What am I feeling right now, then?” 

“Hmm,” you pretended to contemplate. “I think you wanna take me out for a late-night milkshake, but only after you kiss me again here first.”

The twinkle in your eye made Steve’s heart melt. “You really can read me like a book,” he grinned before leaning into your lips once more.

~~“And when I see something I like you know that I gotta pounce. All the things that you say, say, say, I can trust every ounce.”~~

Thank you for reading and feedback is loved!

[ningsols]

𓏸𓈒 ⠀ ʿ ⠀canon ℳiraculou᥉ dr 𓈒 🦇 ㅤᡣ𐭩

Renée Valentine, more commonly known anonymously as Viveka, is the holder of the Bat Miraculous which contains the power of manipulation. She was born in Toulouse, France and raised in Paris to her single mother and aunt, alongside her cousin, Marc Anciel. You might know her best as the shy, book-loving new kid at François Dupont; or perhaps you may not know her as the flying superhero partnering with Ladybug and Cat Noir to save Paris.

⠀﹙ 𝓐 ﹚ bout me . . . 🎬

birth name : renée valentine

nicknames : ren, newbie, noa

other name : n/a

date of birth : july 4, 2005

zodiac sign : cancer

chinese zodiac : rooster

current age : 16 years old

place of birth : toulouse, france

hometown : toulouse & paris

current residence : paris, france

mbti type : infj

iq level : 147

phobias : darkness, crowded spaces, loud noises

likes : books, cats!!!, music, solitude, theatre, animals, flowers & nature, songwriting, hanging w/ friends, sneaking out (!?), bows, oversized clothing

dislikes : whistling noises, cold, hater-ism, dishonesty, tardiness, water, velvet material

⠀﹙ 𝓦 ﹚ ardrobe . . . 🎬

my closet in this dr is entirely based on the idea that i am ms. tomoe tsurugi's worst nightmare. where she makes her daughter clean and respectable, i am loud and free. i love to show peaks of skin, whether that be through ripped jeans or sleeveless and/or cropped tops. my style can be categorized as grunge, but i'm not limited to one style - let's not forget i have infinite money to change my style whenever i please, and i love to switch things up

⠀﹙ 𝓑 ﹚ ackstory . . . 🎬

i was born in toulouse, france, and raised in paris by my mother, mélodie anciel, and very close to my auntie and her son, my cousin marc anciel.

from a young age, i've had connections to be able to attend the private academy of paris with a non-financial scholarship. that is where i met, befriended kagami tsurugi.

after being sat together in classes and then paired for some projects, we became friends. we got very close and eventually developed feelings for each other; unfortunately, ms. tsurugi eventually found out and was appalled by our relationship. she was far from accepting the two of us being together for a plethora of reasons, but mostly because she isn't accepting of LGBTQ+ relationships.

because of this, ms. tsurugi did all in her power to remove me from the school, which is why i'm forced to transfer to françois-dupont in the middle of the school year.

[deadstarwalking]

Ronnie's intro ﹗

art by missfujoshisad

𓂃 Introduction ﹗

Hello !!! I am the host of a UDD system (we are bodily a minor) !! I go by Ronnie and Julian, and my pronouns are he/hym and shi/hyr!! I am an introject of Veronica (heathers) , Tsukasa (pjsk) and lotsss more, but my source Identification fluctuates quite a bit. I am bigender and abrosexual, and I'm dating my lovely boyfriend in my partner system!! JD and Rui Kamishiro are my biggest comfort characters ever and I'm suuuppppeerrrr fixated on them (We are married btw /s) !! I also run a stimboard account, feel free to check it out here and send in a request if you're interested !!! :D

𓂃 interests ﹗

Biggest hyperfixations & special interests ; Project sekai , Heathers , psychology , animals , musical theatre , OUR PARTNER SYSTEM !!!

Other interests and hyperfixations ; Percy Jackson , Genshin Impact , Honkai Star Rail , Twisted Wonderland , Identity V , Vocaloid , Stardew Valley , Omori , Utaite , Mystic Messenger , Six The Musical , Hadestown , Sanrio + More !!

𓂃 DNI List ﹗

Basic DNI criteria , proshippers , endo "systems" , people bodily over 20 , people bodily under 13 , anti age & pet regression , alter race believers , RuiKasa antis , JDRonica antis , JD antis , JD apologists , people that romanticise the toxicity of JD and Veronica's relationship , people that say "I like (character) more than you" (I'm super sensitive to stuff like this especially with JD and Rui,,,,)

Thank you so much for reading my intro !! If you are interested in becoming our friend, feel free to dm me anytime !! Our dms are always open , thank you for reading !!!! :D

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

okay, uh, hi?

Matchmaker, maybe? (Hazbin Hotel/Harry Potter (Specifically the Marauder's Era if you're familiar, but if not Golden Trio era works too!)/DC/Scream) (If that's too many feel free to do the easiest ones for you!

American, unfortunately, She/They and mostly fem presenting, 17, though I've been told I look older? Um brown wolf-cut hair, blue eyes, glasses, pale as HELL, like I reflect light, on the shorter side, but close enough to average height.

Personality wise? I'd say I'm pretty nice? I mean I say things without thinking sometimes, but yk. At the same time though, I'm a total bitch, if that makes sense? It's more of I'm nice/lovingly mean to the people I like, and very awkward and a little stand-offish to people I don't. I have some pretty severe mood swings, and a fairly fluctual social battery.

Physical touch>>>

I've been peer reviewed with ADHD, and am currently on the waiting list to get officially tested.

I tend to either be the mom friend, or the chaotic friend, and can flip a switch and change on a dime.

I enjoy reading, art, theatre, witchcraft, hanging out with my friends, animals, pretty things, and road trips.

sorry this is so long-

( @silly-thoughts-heehee )

(Hiiii I’m going to limit you to just two Fandoms because it’s a heavy workload because I’ve been getting lots of these requests and if you want another fandom, then I recommend sending in another ask and then you won’t be prioritized as much because you already made but I will still get to it if that’s what you want 😊😊😊😊😊😊)

Your Fandom Match(es): Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel) Remus Lupin (Harry Potter, aka Moony) 

Explanation: starting off with your looks, I think she would find you very attractive and she would love your wolf cut and find your eyes to be absolutely pretty and think that your glasses are extremely cute. I think she actually really likes pale people. I don’t know why I think she really likes that pasty white vibe. I don’t know I mean, she just she just it’s just her tight man something about something about y’all’s vampire skin just makes her crazy. I think you guys would also be great together because she appreciates how kind you are to everyone and admires in the way and kind of wishes she could be more like you, but she also knows that you know how to stand up for yourself, and you can be kind of standoffish, sometimes which chief quite frankly kind of admires and she wishes she could have more of a healthy balance of being kind yet knowing whenever to, stand up for yourself as you instead of just being grumpy and all the time and I feel like you guys could help each other improve she could help you you know less standoffish and you could help her be a little more kind. She also really loves physical touch too as long as you guys are in private. I don’t think she’s a fan of PDA but she’s an absolute snuggle bug. If you get her alone like she she would love cuddling with you. She just loves physical touch. As for you being the mom friend I feel like she’s also kind of the mom friend so if you switch to chaos, she would absolutely take care of you and pull you away from danger and I just think you guys relationship is totally funny and iconic. She would also love going on road trips with you and I feel like she’s also a huge fan of reading but only if it’s about thing she’s interested in, but I feel like she would start a little mini book club for just the two of you where you guys would pick out the same book and then talk about it with each other and it would be just a cute little thing you guys do. She’s not graded art, but I feel like she would try to understand it and ask lots of questions while you’re doing it and if you did theater, she would come to all your shows and be really proud of you and always say how great you are afterwards and definitely make sure to buy roses every single time. Oh, and witchcraft? She finds it extremely hot. She’s literally that one meme of doing whatever my heart witch girlfriend wants because that is what she is. For ADHD She is super supportive and totally gets it whenever you get overstimulated or things like that. She would find it very attractive anyway I ship you 💚💚

Explanation: starting off with looks, I think that he would find your wolf haircut to be very cool and I think that he thinks you can pull it off which most people can’t he would love your eyes and probably write the most poetic shit about them behind your back and then never tell you about it like he would write such cheesy poetry about him of the ocean and then stored away and never stumble across it because he’s so embarrassed about it afterwards. He also had glasses for a short period of time so he thinks that they’re really cute on you and looks really bad on him. I think he would be scared to come up to you. I would have to push him towards you because I don’t think he’s that confident with his crushes especially if there is cute as you are and he just gets so flustered every single time he thinks about you, he can’t even imagine like going up to you so yeah James has to literally set you guys up practically.  He loves your kind, personality and how you’re pretty nice to everyone, but you have your own little kind of teasing, making fun of jokes for people that you really like and I feel like he would absolutely love teasing you and kind of having that dynamic with you where you’re able to say joking things to each other it’s teasing is your guys love and I feel like you guys would be roasting each other and then someone walks by and like aren’t they supposed to be dating and then people are like yeah they are and that’s how they just like talk to each other and I think it would be hilarious. I feel like your guys dynamic would be super funny because he’s definitely a Mom friend and he would never be a chaotic friend so you guys would either be responsible together or he’d be dragging you away from like whatever stupid decision you’re about to make, but I think that it’s kind of comical. He’s also all about physical touch and I feel like he also loves reading so he would totally read books with you and discuss them and all the theories around them with with you because he’s an intelligent guy and he would totally love to break down novels with you and get your opinion on them. He would also come to all of your shows and be extremely supportive if you wanted to be an actor as a career or even if you just did it for fun, he would always be complementing you and how good you were. 💚💚

[liljakonvalj]

I watched Disney's Robin Hood tonight, and here are some of my highlights:

This movie is so FUN. Even as an adult who has seen this movie so many times I laugh out loud multiple times when watching it

Prince John being fooled by The cross-dressing Robin Hood and little John because he cannot fathom the idea of Female robbers

Everything about their heist is fun- but especially kissing away the ring jewels, the entire conversation between Robin and prince John, Prince John's reflection in the ball, sir Hiss being stuck in a basket and the thieves colliding when running out with their bounty

We're really shown how wicked the sheriff is, stealing coins out of the cast of a cripple, the birthday gift from a kid and a beggar

Robin is very good with kids and gives the birthday boy a bow, arrow and even his own hat

Turns out both Marian and her Lady in waiting Kluck are also terrific with children and their little playing with the children is absolutely adorable

Marian having a wanted poster of her beloved in her room is so funny to me, I cannot get over it.

Robin being a horrible cook because he is thinking about his lady love 😍

The cartwheels he does when he hears that the winner of the archery competition will get a kiss from lady Marian!❤❤👌

Also he has zero chill during the competition. Someone with brain cells might think that he should mess up a couple of the shots to be more inconspicuous, but not him.

Cleaving the sheriff's arrow with his own is a Legendary TM moment though

The little turtle cheering for his dad was adorable. I really enjoyed the looks of all the contestants too!

Robin and Marian's love confessions when he's been found out 😭

Little John is literally saving the day multiple times during the aftermath of the contest while wearing a crop top. Also him just vibing with the prince, or "PJ", is a testament to his acting skills.

After the fight breaks out Robin and Marin agree to marry, where to go for their honeymoon and discuss their future number of children (robin:"We'll have six children". Marian: "no, a dozen at least") They both have zero chill and are so hot for each other, it would be sickening if i didn't love it so much

Lady Kluck literally being Player of the Game during the fight, every single thing she does is a win

The entire fighting sequence is a joy from start to finnish

The song "Love" while Robin and Marian just walk around in the forrest talking and being well ... in love 😭😍❤

The scene with the warerlillies, fireflies and the flower-ring while they gaze into each others eyes is the textbook definition of Romance

Much of the animation in A Phoney king of England is borrowed from earlier movies, but I like the little game I make of trying to remember wich animations are from which movie

I also like Friar Tuck's little theatre setup and Robin using his bow as a, well, bow when playing the violin

The song becoming such a hit in the town that Prince John raises the taxes even more, resulting in several people being put in jail (The jail part is not a favourite but the song being a hit is)

Friar Tuck absolutely losing it when the sheriff steals from the box for the Poor in his church.👏👏

The double take Robin does when he hears his friend is to be hanged on the morrow, first out of character then in character as the beggar.

(In the swedish version Trigger, who is suspicious of the beggar remarks that "han har en räv bakom örat" lit. trans ="he has a fox behind his ear" which means that he is up to something. I thought it was a fun pun considering Robin is a fox)

I view the whole breaking into the castle sequence each Christmas (as is tradition) but I always forget how much from the movie they cut out of the Christmas show

(The whole sequence with Robin masquerading as Nutsy, John freeing the prisoners and about half the fight/flight when they escape is cut from the Christmas show)

Trigger being unable to properly secure his crossbow is a great running gag. He calls his crossbow "gamla Bettan" in Swedish- probably translated: "Old Betsy". I wonder what he calls it in other languages?

And each time I watch I lament that Robin gets too greedy, just leave that last money sack that the prince is cradling in his arms!!

Robin (and little John) turning around to fetch the little bunny is so in character and kinda heartbreaking because Robin almost dies

Robin is really fearing for his life - especially in the burning tower

Robin's face after his escape and Skippy claims that he could've swum double the distance

Was the ending rushed? Yes. Do I care? No.

[power464646]

So I guess I promised some friends a breakdown of the PMMM trailer

I think I should kick this off by saying I'm really writing this so I have a fast way of dropping all my hypothesising into a chat in one go. If you're not someone who knows me, I mean I guess you can read on anyway but like... don't expect these notes to be super coherent if you're not familiar with my arcane manner of diction. I'm only warning you, dear reader, because I love you.

Ok that got kind of weird. Let's start at the only place it really makes sense to.

Part 1: What on Earth actually happened at the end of Rebellion?

I see a lot of people who are confused about what exactly the final act of Rebellion implies. I see one of these people every time I look into a mirror. Still, let's try breaking it down.

So Homura, having broken out of the isolation field, is suddenly free to reunite with her girlfriend who is probably literally heaven. You almost can't tell that this anime is influenced a lot by nineteenth century theatre.

So that's all well and good, until Homura grabs Madoka's wrists and does... something.

What the hell's happening here?

...actually, the concept movie of all things does clarify a little, which someone's been kind enough to upload to Youtube with subtitles.

Now, you may be wondering: "The concept movie? Is that even still on the cards? I thought it was just a bunch of concept art and short animations." Or maybe you're thinking, "What the fuck is the concept movie?" And look, the thing is we're going to get to that.

Fuck me sideways this is going to be a long post.

So it appears Homura has somehow removed Madoka from the Law of Cycles - this is reinforced in Rebellion a few scenes later when she suggests as much to Sayaka, who she theorises was pulled back to Earth alongside Madoka (and Nagisa). But what's interesting about the concept movie is the implication that somehow there now exists a Madoka in heaven AND a Madoka on Earth.

Immediately after she does the Mysterious Thing, Homura's labyrinth grows to encompass the entire universe. Homura then bites down upon, and shatters, her own soul gem - and on a side note, Rebellion has surrounded her with the imagery of E.T.A. Hoffman's The Nutcracker and the Mouse King, in which biting through and swallowing the legendary nut Krakatuk is the only way to break the curse of the Mouse Queen. In biting through her own soul gem, Homura is presumably no longer cursed, whatever that means. This probably has something to do with her speech about having risen above hope and curses, and now having mind-melded with the gay allegations. The rumour come out, and it conquer the universe. Is she immortal now? Resistant to being cursed? Who knows?

Following this, she gets some crazy kind of power up, which largely seems to involve wearing a hideous cocktail dress. Conspicuously absent in the extremely low cut of the dress is her heart surgery scar.

What?

Like, we know she's had heart surgery. This is one of the first facts we learn about her. Have you ever seen the scars from heart surgery? They're huge! So where is it? It's almost like the writer is a hack fraud who keeps forgetting that his own protagonist is severely disabled. But come on, there's no way that's the case, right?

Um.

So moving on, it's now the Incubator's turn to bear the world's suffering in the stead of magical girls. I... don't think it's super clear what this means?

"To handle all the curses that have spread around our world, you Incubators are now necessary for us. So you'll be staying to help, Incubator."

From the looks of the little dude in the ending scene, though, I'd not be too shocked if he was out of commission for a while.

I could talk about the school hallway scene but I know you himedanshi fucks know that like the back of your hand. Instead I'm going to talk about

Alright this image isn't really doing me any favours straight after I say I'm not going to talk about yuri. But bear with me here.

Homura appears to be capable of completely wiping Sayaka's memory by simply clapping her hands - which is all well and good, as spinoff material (especially Wraith Arc- aww nuts, I'm going to have to talk about Wraith Arc too now) states that memory manipulation is her power in the post-episode-12 universe.

Meanwhile, in her own labyrinth in Rebellion, Homura seems to be able to stop time just fine. Could it be that now that her labyrinth is the new universe, she has access to both powers? Well, she disappears instantly after wiping Sayaka's memory, so it could be the case.

What if she starts manipulating the memories of other people too...?

I'd like to briefly bring up another moment from Wraith Arc, where Homura expresses frustration with being able to remember a world nobody else can, and how it makes her own account of the past harder to believe. If she starts clearing the past from the memories of everyone around her...

...would she have a hard time remembering it, too?

Part 2: So I basically watched the new trailer frame by frame like some kind of nerd

Here's some shit I noticed.

We open on this smug jerk who looks a lot like Homura but is smiling way too much. At first I presumed she was some new girl who looks a lot like Homura and that's as far as the connection goes, plus she has a telephone that fucking sucks. I thought this because she also appears on the movie poster, which also has a phone that sucks.

Look at that thing. What the hell.

But then I noticed:

The lounge she's sitting on is in the shape of a lizard, and

The red energy from which she conjures her phone is also a lizard.

I don't know if you've noticed, but lizards are kind of Homura's thing now. See the epithet she gives herself in the screencaps of the concept movie above. If you're still not convinced, go back through Rebellion, and count the number of times a weird squiggly lizard shows up in association with Homura. I count at least three. Here's one on her new not-soul-gem:

So, alright. What we have here is some kind of mysterious doppelgänger fooling about, maybe. A product of Homura's soul absorbing the universe? Potentially. We've seen a fair share of doppelgängers in her soul gem, of varying degrees of dubiousness:

Another doesn't seem too far-fetched, even if she does appear prominently enough in this promotional material to imply she could be her own character.

Not sure I trust her dress sense, though. Those frills look a little familiar.

The rest of this section of the trailer appears to be Madoka and this smiling Homura finishing each other's sentences, which is also how the concept movie opened. Is Madoka being puppeteered about? Is she under some kind of spell? Is there also some dubious other-Madoka and she and other-Homura are doing some Wario and Waluigi shit? I don't know. I don't know.

We immediately get a montage of Walpurgisnacht and Homura in black and white, using archival footage from the TV series and Rebellion. It ends with a gradually increasing focus on some kind of freaky eye motif:

It feels like it bears mentioning a similar focus on a singular freaky eye in the concept movie:

Could this have any sort of relationship to the giant eye at the end of the Magia ED?

fucking i dont know this is all guesswork

After the montage, we're introduced to this figure. Who are they?

I think we can only guess. Probably Madoka, since other main characters have been getting new outfits, and if I may yet again refer to the concept movie, this wouldn't be our first look at Madoka in a darker outfit than normal:

But it still looks pretty different. In fact, it seems to incorporate elements of Homura's and Mami's older outfits.

now the rational hypothesis is shes finally hit her growth spurt and is getting everyones hand me downs,

Next we get to what I think is the single most interesting shot in the whole trailer:

Some figure (maybe the figure in the last shot, maybe Madoka, maybe they're the same person) becomes absorbed by what I've taken to calling the "Legendary Beast Wraith" (LBW), which doesn't really fit the bill of what wraiths look like at all. The electronic text seems pretty par for the course, as the more powerful a wraith gets, the more its physiology assumes the form of primitive, abstract shapes. From Wraith Arc:

The concept movie corroborates this explicitly by having Oktavia fight a Satori wraith.

But the gratuitous German and the gnashing teeth don't seem to fit with a wraith's M.O. at all. whatever LBW has going on seems far more up a witch's alley.

There's...

There's precedent for this.

The premise of Wraith Arc, for the uninitiated, is that wraiths are wary of the power of emotions, positive or negative, and that while they're not lethal like witches, they do incapacitate people by stealing their emotions and processing them into grief cubes.

A powerful group of wraiths stole Homura's emotions this way, but found themselves incapable of properly processing her feelings, and instead began taking on the likenesses of people she knew. One particularly powerful wraith, which had taken the bulk of her emotional energy, began to mutate and take on the qualities of Kriemhild Gretchen. It became known as the spindle witch.

Don't ask too many tricky questions about this. Nobody understands Wraith Arc's final chapter, and it's not good. All I'm saying is there's precedent for wraiths with witch qualities.

But witch whic-

But whitch-

But which... witch... has LBW taken on qualities from, if this is the case?

Well, I'd like to bring to your attention four points.

The text in the latter of the screenshots of Leg Before Wicket's miasma reads "who" (I can't read Japanese, I'm just the messenger here) which feels like it's teasing the wraith's identity.

Walpurgisnacht is conspicuously absent in the second half of a trailer of a movie named after her.

Lower Body Workout's first initial stands for "Legendary", so it might be safe to presume we're looking after a monster of great renown.

That monochrome montage from earlier put forward a name that might fit the bill:

If witches don't exist in the new world, wraith!Walpy seems about as plausible as anything else.

It also bears mentioning that whoever this is jumping into it appears to have left their shoes on the ledge they're jumping from. I doubt they expect to survive whatever's happening to them in this shot.

Bear with me. It looks like the eggheads at Tumblr are telling me to pack this in at thirty images. I'm going to have to make a second part to this.

[yuli-ra]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Name: Yuli

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 19

Likes: Melanie Martinez, Madison Beer, Conan Gray, Laufey, The Marias, some animes, makeup, fashion, theatre, cute trinkets, reading, drawing, Red Velvet, cats, gothic architecture, baroque art, Harry Potter (I don't agree or share any of JKR tr@nsphobe comments or questionable takes of the series, they're just my comfort books), Criminal minds...

*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ

Just here to ramble and post cute pictures.

Unless it's a literal photo of me, most of the pictures are from Pinterest. My user there is ra_yuli , in my profile I have an specific board with those saved if you are interested on the source.

~My photos and moodboards under #yulipics

~My random thoughts under

#mythoughts

*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ

I speak both English and Spanish and would love to be friends!

My art blog is @ra-yuli .

*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ*ੈ

DNI —> homophobes/ racists/ transphobes/ misogynists/ ED or an@ enablers/ NSFW accounts

I WILL BLOCK YOUR ASS

Free Palestine🇵🇸

[egg-emperor]

Reposters, read this to understand me

What's crazy about the reposters that disrespect my wishes to give me an ounce of credit, practically run their accounts on my stuff, and continue to do so maliciously even after I ask them (before one specific person gets mad, this has happened multiple times) -

is that my videos on my YouTube channel like my cutscene compilations and stuff are free to use. I don't watermark my videos like that and never plan to. You're allowed to use the footage for your own stuff as much as you want (credit is appreciated but not required, as I've said to those who asked first to use it in their videos)

And you can screenshot it to high heaven, make edits out of it, whatever you want. So long as you don't just straight up reupload the entire video for the same purpose I already uploaded it of course. I recorded the footage and played through the games again to get it when theatre mode isn't available,

but it's an effort I don't mind being used transformatively after I've uploaded it, I'm happy to know it's useful. That's the point of my channel being a collection and archive. I never liked people slapping watermarks just on top of recorded cutscenes when there's not even personal gameplay in it because they didn't animate them themself (unlike how gif making and edits and such is a lot more personalized and wouldn't exist at all without that creative effort)

Even though a lot of effort goes into the compiling and editing, if you want to take screenshots and clips from my YouTube videos for any reason, you can. It's an archive and that's the point. The end product is identical to the official product, compiling aside, therefore I don't feel protective ownership, unless someone reuploaded my entire video as a copy with no changes or other purpose

But my blog isn't an archive. It's a personalized expression of my passion that my YouTube account isn't (aside from the long ass gushing descriptions on there lol), my gifs, screenshots, upscales, edits, compilations, collages, etc are not for people to just steal and practically run their account on with no credit. It makes me feel used and taken for granted

But here's the thing, I actually don't mind the odd screenshot or gif being used by people every now and then- especially if they don't know it's mine. Official Sega accs have used my gifs. Popular meme accounts have used them. I've just recently seen an artist you all love that hates my guts and blocked me use my Lost World Eggman CG "if you insist" gif on Twitter and I bet she didn't know it was me that made it.

(It was this one, just before I added this watermark)

And does it make me angry? No

I can always tell when people use images and gifs that have been on my blog from the frames and duration of the gif to the exact dimensions of a crop in an image. Then some people even take edits where I've made the arrangement myself from erasing backgrounds, upscaling, and compiling or have even drawn on it and so it's not even subtle and literally did not exist before I made it

But I know it's not always malicious and sometimes it might just be useful and a one off- or it's at least being used transformatively, for the sake of evidence or analysis of their own, or has interesting commentary, or something like that. I don't mind this. But if you're practically just remaking my exact posts or reposting my images without any transformative efforts and commentary at all, it becomes a problem

Especially when you run an account where it's practically just all my stuff back to back, with no commentary, or commentary where you're repeating things I've said or trying to talk like me because that's creepily happened before on Instagram while they were reposting my stuff. I know that if you do that then you're just visiting my blog and grabbing every image I post. I don't want to run your account for you

A lot of effort goes into what I make. people act like it doesn't matter if it isn't art but it does to me. I put a lot of effort into recording my own footage and compiling it, then turning them into gifs, making edits, taking screenshots etc. I have constant chronic pain and fatigue too to the point I've had fainting attacks when it becomes too overwhelming. And still I give what I make my all for my blog

It feels like a slap in the face when people download and repost knowingly and spitefully when I politely ask them to stop. I put my heart and soul into what I create and it hurts to see it taken for granted, especially when I don't get an ounce of credit and they get more traction and praise for the things I myself created. You think making it yourself is too much effort compared to stealing? Well try having chronic pain and fatigue and still making it yourself

If you're wondering what makes taking stuff from my blog different to my videos, it's because the final product of the stuff on my blog is more personalized and very different to the official product. The gifs, edits, upscales, compiling, and transformative efforts in my work is vastly different to me just recording cutscenes and slapping my watermark on the whole video

And that's the reason why I don't want the stuff on my blog to be taken and mass reposted, compared to my videos where you can screenshot and clip as much as you want because that's why they're there. Choosing to steal everything I personalized like that on my blog when you could literally just go to my videos and screenshot them as much as you want bothers me

Because then it seems like total laziness to me. Because they already take a lot of work to record and compile, yet I'll allow you to screenshot and clip them without watermarks and credit, but you'd rather just take them from my blog because you can't even be bothered to take screenshots or make gifs- when I do all of the above myself- and with chronic pain and fatigue making it extra effort

I deeply regret that I didn't watermark the contents of my blog from the start but I'm going out of my way to change that since people don't respect when I ask them not to repost

And to those who have just happened to use my images or gifs unintentionally a couple of times or you just had them on hand, I don't mind because I know you didn't do it maliciously. They're also free to save for personal use off the internet, I just don't want everything I ever make being reposted like some people do on purpose so they can practically run their whole account on me

But here malicious reposters, if you need content so bad, screenshot/gif/make edits/whatever you want out of these videos yourself. Because at least then you actually did part of it yourself and have something to be proud of instead of using my blog to run your account-

even when even at that it's using some of my efforts in my game recording and video editing/compiling :P

[robin-writes-and-such]

Thought I’d do a short blog intro!!

HELLO NEW PEOPLE!!

This is a long post

Hello! I go by Robin online ^^

Im a minor so don’t be weird

E/INFP-T (ambivert)

I’m bilingual! (English and French)

I don’t label my gender, but I am trans, my pronouns are they/them and I’m a demiromantic lesbian

Things I commonly use when typing:

Emoticons, tone indicators, italicized text, cutting myself off with a dash, ‘lmao’, keyboard smash, ‘real’, ‘fam’, the terms dude, bro, and man, these specific emojis- 💀🫠😭👏✨🤷‍♂️😔😟😎👍👀💪🙏😡🤯😈

I post a bunch of stuff on this blog; mainly poetry, art, my thoughts on stuff and reblogs

I’m in a bunch of fandoms but the ones that are currently most prominent are the Rockabye Musical, EPIC the musical, Les Mis, Adventure Time, Dunmeshi, MLP, TOH and Pokémon

You’re free to make fanart of my ocs as long as it’s SFW, not gorey, and not traced or stolen!

Here are some favourites!

Musical artists/bands: James Marriott, Lovejoy, Phoebe Bridgers, boygenius, Frankie Cosmos, Hozier, Mitski, Leith Ross, Tame Impala

Albums/eps: Bitter Tongues, Pebble Brain, Punisher, Are We There Yet?, the record, folklore, Fine Line, Copycat Killer, Trick, Be the Cowboy, Laurel Hell, The Land Is Inhospitable and So are We, Currents

Colours: bright orange, yellowy green, magenta, pink

Drinks: Orange pekoe tea with sugar and milk, mango smoothies

Foods: grilled cheese, burnt popcorn, dill pickles

Movies: Les Misérables, Mean Girls, Puss In Boots: The Last Wish, Spider-Man: into the Spider-verse, Sing Street, Whip It, Nimona

Shows: The Owl House, Wednesday, Percy Jackson, Blue Eye Samurai, Dungeon Meshi, Fionna and Cake (and yes, Adventure Time), Bluey, Handmaid’s tale, My Little Pony

Misc: bright colours, lights, writing, fun clothing, drawing, playing guitar and piano, singing, figurines, stuffed animals, the smell of freshly washed blankets, decorating, painting, makeup, musical theatre, english class, roller skating, archaeology, science

Top 10 favourite songs of all time

Nothing Matters- The Last Dinner Party

Model Buses- Lovejoy

Where has everyone gone?- James Marriott

One day more- Les Misérables

Not Strong Enough- boygenius

Kyoto- Phoebe bridgers

Touch Tone Telephone- Lemon Demon

It’s All Futile! It’s All Pointless!- Lovejoy

Chicago- Sufjan Stevens

Love Song- Beach Bunny

Dislikes:

Any sort of discrimination really, strong smells, passive aggressiveness, unwarranted hate towards fandoms, miscommunication trope, sweet potato, country music, hockey

I’m just here to have some fun and be silly!! This post will probably get updated quite a bit lmao-

[dreams-and-drabbles]

Halloween 🎃 Headcanons

🍬 Leviathan 🍬

So, I cannot sleep for the life of me atm, which is surprising given I was running around in cosplay most of the day, but eh— Anyhow, this is for the Levi stans out there ((A particular friend inspired this one. Yk who you are 👽))

He goes all out with his costume, no surprises there. He also definitely tries to convince you to cosplay a character from the same series, because come on!! Who doesn’t like group cosplay?!

He may try to hide it at first, but Levi is a candy fiend. They’re the perfect snacks for gaming, watching movies, reading manga, so YEAH— You can expect him to grab as much candy as is possible ((It’s free! Why not take the opportunity to stock up on snacks? He can procrastinate restocking the snack stash a little bit longer now… )

He gets SO in character when he cosplays, like sometimes you get confused and forget he’s not the actual character. He’s VERY good at his cosplay. ((Actually, a few times you were both stopped by fans asking for his autograph, which he automatically became flustered about— He wouldn’t shut up about it when you both got home, however.))

He absolutely holds your hand the entire time you’re out getting candy, with the excuse of not losing you in the crowd. ((Even when he’s heavily in character, he refuses to let go of your hand—))

He absolutely uses Halloween as an excuse to go see as many horror movies as possible. ((Just because you went to the theatre, by the way, doesn’t mean you get to skip out on binge watching horror anime together— Nope, he’s totally monopolising your time. Also, there’s a new horror game out, and Mononoke Land has a Halloween Event!! You should totally get those rare skins with him!!!))

Whether it’s a school night or not, you’re both going to stay out crazy late. ((If Lucifer is really that much of a concern, he’ll help you convincingly fake sick, but you cannot tell him—))

After you two finally finish with the festivities, a sleepover is a must— There’s several horror anime he wants to show you, there’s rare skins to unlock in Mononoke land, he pre ordered the new horror game, and of course there’s candy to be eaten—

If you end up falling asleep during watching, Levi will pause it and wait for you, heck— Now that you’re asleep, he’ll probably curl up with you. He probably ((time limited items are a must, but he swears he’d be quiet! )) wouldn’t play anything else, in case it woke you up. ((Who’d have thought his fear for waking you up would outweigh his non-existent sleep schedule? ))

[fairyofthehollow]

About Me ♡ ⋆｡˚🫧 🌸🦋🌼🛼🌷🎀🩵🎟️

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ neige / fairy 20 🇵🇱🇲🇽 she/her. infj. taurus.

ᡣ𐭩 Hopeless romantic. bookworm. daydreamer. spideverse lover. musical theatre newbie. wanderer of the starless sea. resident of elfhame. collector of trinkets and knick knacks. fairytale enthusiast!

ᡣ𐭩 Some of my favourite things….baby pink, reading, nature, jazz, animals, poetry, paintings, obscure history, glitter, stickers, science, museums, chocolate cheesecake, laying in bed all day, jellycats, cream soda, roller skating, bike rides, adventure parks, quiet libraries, hot cocoa, rom coms, journaling

ᡣ𐭩 Media I love / fandoms (?) i’m in (pls if you want to talk to me about them, DO <3)…. kpop lolz, folk of the air, once upon a broken heart, monsterverse (💓kong💓), hunger games, the good place, superstore, adventure time, UNHhhh, rpdr, marvel, fallout (tv series), derry girls, percy jackson, newsies, narnia & a million more i can’t think of :’)

P.S 🍒 i love learning about new tv shows and movies and books so i’m always open to recommendations!! <3

ᡣ𐭩 newjeans | dani minji seventeen | mingyu vernon

riize OT7 | anton sohee dreamcatcher | siyeon

aespa | karina enhypen | jake heeseung

nct (all units) | mark jaemin hendery ten kiss of life | belle

boynextdoor | jaehyun riwoo

+ psychic fever, le sserafim, txt, zerobaseone, ateez, twice, kep1er, viviz, ive & more!

🍉 FREE PALESTINE!! 🍉

♡ My dms and asks are always open! I’m awkward but I promise I like getting to know new people <3

! DNI ! …. zionists, racists, transphobes, homophobes, xenophobes, terfs, sexists, misogynists, all around gross bigoted people.

[duckymcdoorknob]

hey ducky ducky!!!!! hope youre have a good pre-valentine's day!!!!! I'd like the order 2 delicious boxes of choco plz <3 <3

1. Rhinestones!! with square white and milk chocolate and omg I love the liqueur prompt so much

2. Sequins and how about square milk chocolate (add a little white choco drizzle if you'd like!) with vanilla creme

also a little a bit of chef's recommendation; use whichever characters you see fit <3

have fun!!!!!!!!!

Hi!!!

Omg it’s the love of my life live in action??? Skribblz in my inbox??? Omg

“Rare”pair time OMg I’m so excited

CW BELOW THE CUT: This do have some tickles in it ngl

The Nishiura baseball team was one of hard work and dedication, so it was rare that they recieved a day for leisure. But one incredible day brought heavy rain and thunder, so practice was cancelled for the day. The boys all began to chat up a storm about what they could do to hang out as a team.

“We could paint some pottery!” Izumi chimed, “I know a really cool place nearby.”

“That sounds fun!” Sakaeguchi replied with sparkling eyes. “Is it in the shopping center?”

“Yeah!”

Mihashi’s eyes widened as well as his smile. “We could see a movie too!”

When all eyes turned to look at him, he yelped and hid behind Abe, peeking at his teammates from over his partner’s shoulder.

“I for one think a movie would be a fun addition.” The catcher said, looking to his left to give his partner an affirmative smile.

And so, the baseball team hoisted their umbrellas up and waited by the bus stop. As the rain fell softly, Izumi hummed a quiet song that had been in his head. The boys listened to the serene sound of the rain, and their midfielder’s beautiful voice. The peace was interrupted, however, when the bus came.

The boys took their seats, excited to spend their day of free time with each other. When the bus arrived at the shopping center, the team piled into the small pottery shop and started their crafts. Abe and Mihashi painted matching baseballs, Tajima and Hanai painted a dragon, Mizutani and Sakaeguchi opted for turtles, Oki, Suyama and Nishihiro each found the same item to be appealing, so they worked on it together.

When the painting was finished, the boys said their goodbyes to the store owner, and rushed to the theatre. They hadn’t a plan in mind for what movie they would see, but they would figure that out when they got there.

Agreeing upon some new animated movie about talking dogs, they bought their tickets and concessions and settled down in their seats. Sandwiched between Abe and Tajima, Mihashi hadn’t stopped smiling since the team reached the bus stop. When Abe asked him why, he always replied: “Because this team makes me happy.”

As happy as he was, it couldn’t stop the looming threat of lethargy that came with the sweet sound of pattering rain. The pitcher felt his eyes growing heavy as soon as the lights turned off.

“Hey, Mihashi.” Abe said, tapping his partner’s shoulder, “You spent 1,600 yen on a ticket. Don’t let it go to waste by falling asleep.”

Unfortunately, the blonde just couldn’t keep his eyes open. He fell sideways onto Tajima’s shoulder. “You’re comfy…” he slurred as he fought to stay awake.

“Wh- Mihashi.” Tajima said as he lifted the arm rest, and his own arm, allowing the boy to fall down onto his chest. “There, that’ll at least be better.”

“Tajima.” Abe hissed, “don’t encourage him to fall asleep!”

“Well I don’t want him to be uncomfortable!” The cleanup hitter whisper-yelled in reply. He was at a loss, what could he do to wake the poor guy up?

“Oye…” Abe said in a gentle voice, “Wake up, Mihashi.” He accompanied his demand with a tiny pinch to his pitcher’s side.

“Abe nooo. Don’t tickle me, i’m so tired.” The blonde replied in a whiny voice, arm coming up to bat his partner’s hand away.

Bingo.

“Abe’s right, Mihashi.” Tajima whispered in the boy’s ear, a hand sneaking down to squeeze his hip. “You have to wake up.”

“Mmmmh! Tajima no!”

The cleanup hitter smiled as his heart swelled at just how precious his teammate was. He snaked a hand under the boy’s shirt and squeezed his bare side rhythmically.

“Tahahajimahaha. Noooohohoho.” Mihashi whined as he hid his face in his “pillow”’s chest.

“If you want this to stop, you have to wake up.”

“Nohohoho. Ihihihim tihihirehehed.”

“Then you better not laugh too loud, because we’ve got a long movie ahead of us.” With that, he switched to pinching around the tired boy’s belly button.

“NGH- Tahahahjimahaha. Ihihihit tihihihicklehehes.” The blonde boy whined, loopy giggles pouring from his lips. “Lehehehemme sleheheheep.”

“Mihashi, you need to watch the movie. You paid plenty of yen for the ticket dude.” Tajima said, eyes fixated on the screen. “I’m not letting you fall asleep on my watch. I don’t care if I have to tickle you the entire time, you’re not falling asleep.”

“Plehehehease!”

“No! You can sleep on the bus ride home.” The cleanup hitter moved his hands up to wiggle his fingers near the boys underarms.

It was as if a huge bomb was dropped on the poor kid. His eyes widened and he yelped loudly, causing Tajima to slap a hand over his mouth and shush him.

“Dohohohont gehehet mahahad! Yohohou cahahausehehed thihihis!”

“Oh no! Is poor Mihashi too tickwish on his little ribbies? Whatever will he dooo?” The brunette teased, hands getting agonizingly close to the pitcher’s underarms.

“HNGH- Tahahajimahaha! Dohohohont teheheasehehee mehehehe!” Mihashi whined as he wriggled about to escape the threatening fingers.

“I’ll make you a deal, I won’t tickle you under your arms if you promise to stay awake. Deal?”

When Mihashi didn’t reply right away, Tajima snaked his hand up to flutter his fingers in the boys underarm gently.

“Eep! Yehehehes! Deheheheal! Deheheheal! Nohohoho mohohohore!”

Smiling fondly, Tajima moved his hand down to his pitcher’s stomach and rubbed it gently. “Now watch the movie.”

After the movie was finished, the boys loaded up into the bus excitedly. Tajima and Mihashi were seated next to each other. The blonde boy looked sheepish, as if he had something to ask.

“Well spit it out!” The cleanup hitter barked, noticing the other’s uneasiness.

“Ah! Um… well… when we- um.” Mihashi closed his eyes as embarrassment radiated in a beautiful crimson color on his cheeks, “d-during the movie when you um…”

“Do you want me to tickle you again?”

“N-no! Just… wh-when you were done um… y-you put your hand on… on my-“

Tajima smiled, opening his arm and letting the boy cuddle up to his chest. He once again snaked his hand under Mihashi’s shirt and gently rubbed his stomach. “Rest, Mihashi. You’ve done well.”

Silently thankful that Tajima could deduce his stuttering, Mihashi fell asleep almost instantly, feeling more safe and loved than ever.

❣︎𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒’𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡❣︎

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[wthjillie]

brainrot imagine #1 of captain junpei hyuga

a/n: WELP, here goes nothing 😂 i said i was gonna write imagines for the list of headcanons that i wrote for this jackass so here's the first one lol i have the original post of the headcanons here so feel free to check it out!! i'll be numbering them as it follows so enjoyyyyy <3

summary: hyuga would have prolly kept his blond hair if you told him you liked it

First day of high school always had a rush of excitement everyone! Well, maybe not everyone but at the very least, you were excited. You didn't really understand the people who weren't excited, you always had a knack for trying new things or not knowing all the answers, I guess it was just a unique quirk you have. What really got your going was seeing your friends again, your good ol' middle school besties who evidently decided to attend the same high school as you.

You walk out your front door just after yelling, "I'm heading out!! See you later!" to your Mom, and just like clockwork your middle school friend, Shun Izuki, walks by. This was a regular occurrence, you guys had lived close by to each other for nearly your whole lives so commuting to school together wasn't at all a weird thing.

"Good morning y/n, how was your break?" Izuki asks.

"It wasn't too bad! I got to catch up on some some of my manga and anime, I also got to watch this really cool movie in theatres with Riko! It was a lot of fun, what about you, Izuki?"

Izuki proceeds to tell you about his break as you guys head towards the train station. You guys laugh and talk, just catching up and talking about the most random things. You guys make it to school, waving and saying hello to some other friends from middle school. You guys find the master list and check which home room class you're in. Funny enough, you and Izuki are in the same class.

"Oh cool, check it out! Hyuga is gonna be in our class too!" Izuki blurts out as he's skimming the rest of your class list.

"Oh nice, too bad Riko got assigned to a different class. I was excited to start high school with her."

As you guys continue skimming the other class lists, you both hear a subtle, "Damnit," and a familiar groan behind your shoulders. You both turn around, hoping to see your hot-headed tsundere friend but only find a tall guy with bleached blond hair of the same stature walking away.

"Huh, I thought for sure I heard Hyuga just now." You say to Izuki. Before you know it, Izuki is catching up to the guy you just saw walking away from you both.

"Hey, Hyuga. Hyuga!"

"Shut up. I hear you." The bleach blond turns around and low and behold, it's Junpei Hyuga. He continues and says, "Izuki..."

"Hey. We're in the same class again." Izuki can barely say it before he bursts into hysterical laughter. "I can't take it!" You smile in your place and start walking towards your idiotic friends.

"What's so funny?!" Hyuga blurts out just as Izuki starts to compose himself.

Izuki goes, "It doesn't look right. You bleached your hair at the start of high school. That's not something a basketball player does."

Hyuga turns around to look away from Izuki's face. With a hint of disappointment in his tone, he says, "Of course it isn't."

"Good morning Hyuga-san!! I like the new hairdo, are you auditioning for a movie or something?" Hyuga abruptly turns around to find you standing with Izuki, who starts to giggle again after you address his hair. You and Izuki can't help but make more jokes about Hyuga's hair, growing in volume and laughter as you keep going. Hyuga groans in his spot, shoving his hands further into his pockets. You wipe away a couple tears from laughing so hard and look up at Hyuga, but you can't help but notice that he's… blushing?

That's a little weird, didn't think I'd ever see the day where Hyuga blushes, you think to yourself.

"Hey, c'mon now Hyuga-san! We're just messing around with you!" You playfully whack his arm to lighten the mood, then link arms with the tsundere which only made him blush even harder. He looks up towards the ceiling to make it less obvious but you already know and Izuki already knows.

"C'mon Izuki! Let's get to class so everyone else can see this God awful hair! I can't wait until Riko sees it too!" Hyuga groans again and tries pushing you away, but evidently fails. You were always like this with Hyuga, even with Izuki and Riko. You guys had always been friends and you couldn't imagine a day where you wouldn't. Inappropriate inside jokes, playful teasing and childish behaviour weren't new to you guys, if anything it was the norm.

You get to the door of your classroom and let go of Hyuga's arm just as you're about to walk in with Izuki. But Hyuga stops in his footsteps. Izuki runs in alone, seeing another friend from middle school who he wanted to ask a question. You turn around to see Hyuga once again blushing, but this time with a huge frown on his face.

You study his face for a bit before saying, "C'mon Hyuga-san. We were only teasing you, we didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything. It's not even that bad, y'know? If you just toned it a bit to make it a less harsh colour and cut your hair so it doesn't cover your face, it'd actually look kinda nice!"

You stepped forward on your tip toes and use your hands to hold up some of the longer pieces of Hyuga's hair, trying to get a better vision of what it would look like with a good haircut. Hyuga watches you play around with his hair, so deep in focus you can hardly notice that he's watching you so intently. You catch his gaze for a moment and he looks away and his shoulders tense up. You smile and place both of your hands on his shoulders to try and get him to relax.

"Y'know what! If you took off a couple inches and maybe faded the sides and the back, it would look really good! Oh my god, I can see it now! You'd be THE BEST looking guy in our class! Wait no, maybe our entire grade!" You laugh out loud and Hyuga flinches before looking right at you, wide-eyed and completely shocked at everything you just said.

"Hmm, honestly the more I look at you, the more I start to like the look. Who knew you'd make it as a blond." Hyuga smiles a bit, before scratching the back of his head and looking away.

"You really think so?" He awkwardly asks.

"Oh, I KNOW so! I'm a little disappointed though. You would think that the barber's son would be more knowledgeable about haircuts and hairstyles, but alas, it is I who would outsmarted the nerd with glasses." You replied.

Before Hyuga can even reply with his own snarking comment, you grab him by the arm again and walk into class together. Hyuga could never seem to keep up with you. Sure, he had grown to deal with Izuki's awful puns and Riko's playful banter and obvious violence, but there was always something about you that always caught him off-guard. Maybe it was the way you always knew what he was thinking? Or maybe it was because you always knew how to make him feel better. Regardless, it was nice to have someone like you that provided him a safe space for his thoughts and all his feelings.

You both walk into class saying hello to old classmates and some more friends. After a while, Hyuga trails behind a little and watches you socialize. He always admired you but would rather die than say it out loud. He always felt like saying something but he could never quite come up with the words.

So instead, he stands back and watches you in your element until the teacher walks in and you all scurry towards your desks.

Just as you're all sitting down, Hyuga turns to you and you flash him a big goofy smile, he smiles back softly.

Huh, maybe it isn't too bad. I guess I'm willing to keep the blond around for a bit before dyeing it back... If y/n thinks it's nice then maybe I'll just have to keep it like this, it's the last thing Hyuga thinks just before class officially starts.

closing a/n: and woop de doo! that's the end of my first imagine! i hope it met your expectations lmfaoooo i had a lot of fun writing this so i hope you enjoy it! Idk how to cut a post so it doesn't show the entire thing :/ maybe it's bcas i'm on my phone hahah so i'll figure it out one day for ya guys