#there's a big gap between july and october
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Crash Landing
(aka Big Bunny 4)
Wheeew, only 6 months later than I intended! it's 4am and somehow, despite spending forever on this, I fear the grammar may be janky - so apologies for that. This follows directly from The Lisa-Marie, and the masterlist for the series is linked here!
This is the last of the planned ‘main’ chapters, but there are some time jumps in this and the last chapter, so if anyone has any requests for any bunny/elvis one shots pop them into my inbox and I’ll see what I can do. I have a few little plans to fill out some of the gaps, but no promises on when they might appear.
warnings: 18+, some mild sexism, p in v, oral (v receiving), afab!reader, skiing, allusions to poor health, Elvis is swearing like… a lot in this chapter. Make of that what you will. References to drug use. THIS ENDS IN JULY 1977 - AUGUST IS IMPLIED.
wc: 14k I don’t know what to say - there was meant to be a brief skiing interlude and then all of a sudden I’m 10k in and they’re still in Colorado.
Early 1977
Linda is gone for good, finally some of the guys would say, and you couldn’t totally say that you disagreed. It had been stressful - the ups and downs of their relationship, being caught in the crossfires. You had enough experience to know it wasn’t really specific to her but nonetheless it had still been somewhat difficult to witness. It had been hard to face her on the jet, knowing what Elvis was saying behind her back; how adamant he was for them to be over. On the way between stops in the October tour he’d sat on the couch on the plane, glistening with the sweat from the show and still dressed in his white jumpsuit with red flames jumping up his chest, he’d tugged you over, uncaring of the others in the room. Telling you that you were the only girl he could trust to have his back, that he didn’t even know why he kept her around. He didn’t seem to remember, and you didn’t care to remind him that he’d told you the same thing back in June too. Every time she’d suddenly reappear - his desperation to be looked after superseding any desire he may have had to say goodbye to her. Why you couldn’t be enough for him you didn’t know.
Then, almost immediately after Linda’s gone - and, admittedly, briefly before she was too - you’re meeting this new girl, Ginger, albeit rarely. Elvis for some reason putting her on the Jetstar with her family more than with him. In some ways it helps - the fact that she’s not there all the time, in others it makes you feel awful — his rush fiancee and her family seemingly not even willing or wanting to travel with him. It’s mostly a slow season over the winter though and for some reason Georgia is getting more hours than you and so, you’re forced to say goodbye to your examination of the inner workings of his private life until after the New Year break. It ends up being early February before you get a call to come in for one of his vacation whims.
It feels like it’s been an age since you last saw Elvis even though it had barely been a six weeks, and you felt guilty that it had felt so nice to relax a little. It was hard when you spoke to your friends, and all their careers or mothering sounded so stressful all the time, they were all jealous of your ‘easy’ job, the extra benefits sounding all too impressive. Where else would you get a new wardrobe paid for? A shiny new car sat outside for you, or an apartment rented? But it was hard to explain without giving away too much, how it was impossible for you to ever really turn off; how you thought about him all the time, worried about him all the time, even when you were at home.
He hadn’t been difficult to manage the last couple of months of the year, at least, not as bad as the middle and start of the year, but his moods had turned almost overwhelmingly blue, and it had been tricky to level your tone and actions to appropriately comfort him. You’d started feeling on edge every flight, worried and insecure. So, the break had been nice. It had given you a chance to re-evaluate, take a breather and consider what was best for you to do.
Elvis himself called to wish you a Merry Christmas, he’d been sweet and kind and promised you a gift even as he made small talk that you knew he disliked, even if he was good at it in that southern way, and it had made you hate him just a little. Your chest aching with the feel that he was treating you like a total stranger. It hadn’t improved when you’d returned to your Memphis apartment from your parent’s house and discovered a card had been delivered in your absence. “Season's Greetings, Elvis and the Colonel and Friends.” You’d allowed yourself the briefest of cries staring at yourself in the mirror while the blotchiness crawled up your neck. You were still an ugly crier despite your best efforts. It’s the final straw, you thought to yourself as you stared at your wild eyes and messy hair where you’d tugged your hands through it. You’ll see it through the summer. Then you’re done. That’ll be just enough time to work out what to do next - maybe you’d go back to school. You dried your eyes, patting yourself on the cheeks. That’s it. Decision made. You refused to give it any more thought. Especially, about why you didn’t just quit immediately if you were planning on it later anyway, not willing to admit to yourself you wanted to give him another chance more than anything else. It was just altogether too much, being the girl on the side of the girl on the side, having to balance being his friend, employee and lover. But you’d had your moment, and you were using your trusty technique of just not. thinking. about. it. anymore.
You were nervous as you tied your little necktie and pulled at your hem from where you were sure your dress had shrunk over the past month, preparing to greet the men loading onto the plane. It was informal, as it normally was, and you looked back somewhat fondly to your days on Big Bunny, where everything was written and handbooked out with the proper procedure for every situation. Now it was just up to you to decide what to do for every eventuality. In this situation you made the brave decision to hide. So, you tuck yourself away in the galley on the other side of the little half wall, waiting until enough of them have boarded that you’ll be forced to peek out and say hello. There were more people loading on than during the last tour, and despite the extra numbers you knew you were handling this mostly alone - Georgia had been unable to come in under such short notice; something about a grandmother. So not only were your nerves shot worrying about when you should tell Elvis you were quitting and how it felt like you were harbouring some awful secret, you were also having to steel yourself to be overworked and run down by the time you were able to get off the plane. When you peek out around the partition you get the first glance of him and you’re a little embarrassed at how you can feel a flush start to rise just from that look.
He looks not dissimilar to how he did that first day on Big Bunny - open collared shirt and jogging jacket on - this time a navy blue with a baby blue stripe down the shoulder and arm. He looks good - like you could just burrow into him, and you’re relieved that the sudden demand for your appearance isn’t for something panic-inducing from the way he’s smiling and chatting - laughing with Charlie and Joe. You’d been a little concerned that the rapidity of the request was hiding a more sinister origin after a similar call had preceded a rush to the hospital last summer. But he was looking good, really good actually. Somehow his face had lost some of its puffiness it’d been holding onto and he was a far better colour than you’d gotten used to - perhaps a high from the success of his New Year’s concert as he’d been pleased with the reaction and reviews or maybe even just high off the excitement of his, apparently, serious relationship with Ginger. Although, evidently not altogether that serious since she wasn’t joining them; you’d already decided you’d keep your thoughts about that to yourself. You shyly watch him from across the plane where he’s already sat himself down, comfortable in his own space and leaning against the back - his legs spread wide, retelling some story you’ve already heard once before. You take a deep breath before heading around the little partition, fully intending on acting as if you had an important job to do by the door. You managed to keep the ruse up long enough to shut the door and let Ron know you were all set to go, long enough to hand out drinks and cigars and let them all settle in, but you couldn’t pass directly by him again without him noticing you, and his arm shoots out, grabbing your wrist as you go to walk past. You barely have a chance to notice his hold on you before he’s pulling you in, forcing you to bend over in order to accept a kiss on the cheek in greeting. You can’t explain why you’re so nervous, but you find your tummy flipping at the close proximity to him. With anxiety or excitement, you can’t quite tell. In some ways it’s slightly more forward than you’d expected from him for having not seen him in a month, but perhaps you had just gotten used to him ignoring you in the months prior.
“Good evening, Elvis.” It’s a fine line between polite and aloof, and you can already tell you’ll be reliving this interaction all night. His eyes are bright with amusement at your formality when he gazes back at you, his thumb still gently stroking over your wrist.
“Well, it is now.” He grins as you visibly cringe at his cheesiness, “Good evening to you too, honey.” He looks you over as he lets go of your hand, allowing you to stand back up, and eyeing your hemline, “‘re you ready for the cold?”
“Hopefully it’s not gonna be too cold on the plane,” You stumble over your words in nerves, “but I can always turn the heat up a little - “Elvis shakes his head,
“Nah, I’ll keep you toasty, hon, snug as a, as a bug.” You struggle to regain your composure as your mind flickers with images of just how he could be keeping you warm.
“Hmm, I suppose you’ll have to since someone makes me wear this. But I’m pretty well covered anyway.” You grin in response to his smirk when you gesture down at your stockinged legs.
“Well, that’s real good doll,” He runs a hand through his thick hair, letting a hint of the grey around his temples show as he pushes it back, and you find yourself missing the steadying warmth of his grip, “but you know - we’re stopping in Vail.”
You pause, unsure how to put it politely, “Mmhmm, that’s what Elwood tells me.” He frowns, leaning back and settling even further into the seat, arm spreading across the back rest and he shifts so his thighs are encasing you.
“Alright then miss know-it-all, tell me what I was gonna say next.” He stares at you, and it makes your insides twist even as you can feel heat pooling in your stomach.
“Uhhh,” You struggle, to try and think of what to say that will maintain the teasing playful tone, feeling like you’ve been called on daydreaming in the middle of class with everyone’s eyes on you and simultaneously totally distracted by the feel of his legs against yours. He smirks as you flounder, “Well, perhaps, that you uh,”
“You can say you don’t know.” He sing-songs it, “Silly little girl like you can’t know everything, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, and you can feel the frustration rise at his teasing,
“No. I suppose not.” He smiles crookedly, pleased he gets to tell you the next part, even as he explains it like you’re a little slow.
“I was goin’ to say that I hope you’ve got a coat somewhere…” He pauses for dramatic effect, “since you’re comin’ with us.” Your brain goes blank.
“Me?”
“Why not?” He straightens a leg, it, perhaps inadvertently, knocks against yours and you immediately feel your gaze pulled to it, the heat of his thigh against your knee making your head go fuzzy. “Been a while since we’ve been off this plane together.” He’s looking at you hopefully, eyes wide behind his shades and you can feel your insides fizzing with excitement - even as you feel the need to protest,
“Oh well that’s very kind but -”
“C’mooon, honey - it’ll be fun! Hot cocoa, and, and skis, and playin’ in the snow.” His leg moves again, the soft cotton blend of his jogging suit catching on your nylons, “Dashin’ through the snow…” Your mouth opens, about to make a Paul Anka joke but one look at his encouraging smile puts you off,
“Oh, well, like I said, that’s very kind - but I don’t, I don’t have any clothes or coats or boots or -” He cuts you off with a tut, rolling his eyes and shaking his head like you were being particularly stupid.
“I was only kidding before.” He sounds a little petulant at the suggestion, “You don’t needta worry ‘bout that - we’ll get you sorted out.” He nods, as if you’d already given him your agreement.
“That’s very generous Elvis, but I don’t know how to ski.”
“Don’t worry I’ll teach ya!” He seems overwhelmingly confident considering you and he both know he doesn’t know how to ski, “You can just be - hey!” He sits himself back upright in his excitement, knocking against you enough that you shift on your feet, “You can just be my little snow bunny, can’t ya?” He laughs as he says it, and his laughter is infectious - you find yourself giggling along with him,
“I suppose that would be fitting.”
“ ‘Sides what else were you gonna do while we were out?”
“Well…what I normally do - fly home or stay in whatever hotel I’ve had booked for me.” He looks curious for a second, “Sometimes I visit people if we’re close to someone I know.”
“Do I book ‘em?”
“Uh. Well. I think maybe your daddy does? Or, whoever’s organising everyone on your behalf yeah, sure.”
“Oh…” He looks contemplative, before with a frown, “Are they nice?”
“They’re fine El - it’s normally the same place the band is.” It’s sometimes a shithole but you’re not about to tell Elvis that.
“Would you - why… did you not wanna come with me?” He half-whispers it and your brain stutters to a halt,
“What? That’s not, that wasn’t ever an option Elvis.”
“Well. It is today. Come with us.” He holds out a hand, serious for the first time in the conversation and with his eyes looking at you like that even if you’d wanted to refuse you couldn’t. You nod in agreement, acquiescing to his demand.
“C’mere then.” He tugs you down against him and you wriggle into place on his lap, the fabric of his trousers catching on your nylons as you settle against his sturdy thighs. He rubs gently at your calf, his thumb and forefinger encircling your ankle and you feel yourself relax out of your self-consciousness to enjoy the closeness.
You laugh at a terrible joke at Joe’s expense and Elvis’ legs shake underneath you as you collapse against him in a fit of giggles. Your giggles taper off as you feel him twitch against your thigh. You school your face but can’t stop yourself turning to look at him in surprise, and more than a little excitement. His expression is unchanged, and you wiggle almost imperceptibly, come out, come out and play. It twitches again, and Elvis shifts as if in discomfort, you glance around but no one else seems to be paying you any attention - already distracted by something or someone else so you feel comfortable you’re not about to get caught as you try to wriggle your hand down to him. He immediately clamps an arm around your waist, holding you tight in place - your arm caught between you both. He looks down at you amused and you bite your lip - a pretty pitiful attempt at seduction,
“Shh.”
You indicate to the bedroom, more than a little disappointed when he shakes his head. “Later baby.”
He keeps you trapped on his lap, making it impossible for you to go and do anything, making the boys make their own drinks even when they try and ask you. Even when you try to whisper that you need to get up, he holds you there, gently soothing you back into compliance with a press of his lips, a whispered promise, a stroke of his fingers.
“Elvis I really hafta get up - we’ll be comin’ down soon and I’ve gotta make sure - “
“It’ll be fine baby, don’t worry ‘bout it.”
“Well, we can’t just sit here forever - at the very least I’ll have to go and open the doors.”
“Shit baby, Ron or Jim or God, I’m sure even fucking Elwood can manage that. No offense doll but I think they might even be more qualified at it than you. Besides I ain’t payin you to open doors.”
You push off his chest, turning to face him and interjecting before he can even continue that thought,
“You sure as hell aren’t paying me to keep you ‘company’ either.” He rolls his eyes,
“We’ve been through this, I don’t give a fuck about the plane or anything else. Your job is to care for me.” His eyes burn behind his shades, and the intensity of his frown takes you a little by surprise. You stroke the wrinkle on his brow,
“‘m sorry but look - I have a couple of things I have to do and anyway you’re gonna have to put a seatbelt on in a second, because it’ll get bumpy - and if you hit your head, I’m not being responsible for it.” You wag one of the heavy gold seatbelts at him and he sighs,
“Well, fine, but you’re mine soon as we land. No excuses then.” His hand strokes your thigh, and your tummy flips,
“No excuses. I’ll be yours as long as you want me.” There’s a hum, and you both suddenly realise Larry has come a lot closer than before, “Your hostess I mean.”
———————————
Ron patted your arm as you disembarked with the others. “Remember we’ll be there soon too,” He looks at you, “We’re staying at Betty’s aunt’s place, but I’m sure we’ll be invited round.” You nod, reading between the lines and you smile,
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
“You do that. Have fun.” He winks, disappearing back into the cockpit and you take a breath before rejoining the group dispersing into a collection of cars.
“What’s she doin’?” The whisper travels as you climb into the car, Larry and Joe start to reply but Elvis jumps in before either could get their words out too.
“Goddamnit,” He kicks the seat in front although it certainly wasn’t Joe who had piped up, “She’s coming too - so shut yer fuckin’ mouth before I shut it for you.” He shouts out the open door and slamming it shut. He slides across the bench seat to be pressed close against you, his hand curling over your thigh.
You smile shyly, pleased when Shirley turns around to smile at you, you weren’t her biggest fan - she’d never been overly friendly, but at least she was now acknowledging you.
A whirlwind shopping excursion ensued while Elvis sent the other car to scout out where he wanted to stay. You were a little taken aback, but not altogether surprised, that he’d demanded the trip on such a whim that he hadn’t even secured proper accommodation, but he did a fairly good job of explaining himself while you were being sent back and forth from different stores for the appropriate clothing.
“The thing is …” You kind of zone out while he talks, the story leading from one to another, before returning to the actual point he was trying to get to, but you appreciate the rumble of his voice and the gossipy tone that makes you feel a part of his exclusive little group. You manage to capture the gist though; that he was pretty sure they could stay at the same lodge as last time, because it was a friends but he hadn’t actually asked - since the decision to go away hadn’t been made until yesterday, and that he couldn’t see any reason why not - but if they had problem with it there was surely other, bigger better lodges to stay that would be overjoyed to host him.
You were tired by the time he decreed that you finally had a suitable wardrobe and he looked over the collection of bags with satisfaction, although - despite the three other coats he bought you, he still felt the need to lament that it was a;
“Damn near trav’sty, none of these backwater stores have white fur. Can’t be a proper little snow bunny,” He sighs, “Joe - make sure we order her one for next time.”
Your chest glows at the nonchalant way he says it - like he just expects you to be there again. Like it’s no big deal. The other car returns with good news, and they all filter up to the same lodge as the year before.
“I reckon Ron and Bob’ll regret being such fucking, well, they’ll regret it anyhow now - once they see this and know they could’ve been here too.” You don’t know what to say, so you stick with saying nothing and Elvis tuts and shakes his head, shifting to stare out of the window, although he doesn’t pull his hand away from where you’re making little circles on his palm.
It’s dark and late outside, and yet Elvis demands everyone get suited up to go and play in the snow, and everyone is in high enough spirits not to protest. You’ve not yet had a lesson though, and as you pull on your brand-new ski suit you playfully refuse to even entertain the prospect of heading anywhere on actual skis - Elvis doesn’t seem to be disappointed, grinning at you under his mask and gesturing for you to clamber onto the back of his snowmobile.
Despite his promises on the plane, things never did, that first night, progress past heavy petting in the bedroom - but it was something just to have his thick weight next to you in the bed, laughing and joking as he pressed kisses down your face and throat. His little huffs of laughter as you returned the favour tickling his chest made you feel the same pleasurable contentment as if he’d decided to fuck you for hours.
It was rare, recently, for him to be in such high spirits and still lucid - and you couldn’t help but wonder whether Dr Nick had managed to work out the exact right combination of drugs to keep him perfectly stable, or if he was contributing more placebos. Either way, you weren’t privy to their intimate conversations, nor allowed to witness his daily dosing. The most you saw was the little pills he put into his palm, twice as many as he tipped into yours, before bed and in the morning alongside the occasional couple that he nonchalantly explained them away simply as “Jus’ a little painkiller.” Shrugging his shoulders. But either he was being a lot sneakier - and you weren’t sure you should be viewing that as a good thing - or he was finally listening to concern and easing himself off a little.
It felt like it had in those first few weeks after you’d met him - carefree and fun. And somehow you felt yourself relaxing from the tense feeling you’d had since the start of last year. The worries falling off of your shoulders. You spent the first two days joined at the hip - not even really partaking in the snow sports on offer; snuggling up on the snowmobile and then taking yourselves off to curl up in the lodge instead.
The third day, or really night - since as always with Elvis you soon found your days and nights flipped around - he was ecstatic about the fresh, perfect snow and clear weather and you’d all been sent out to play.
It felt like a long night by the time Elvis was happy to let everyone return to the house. He hadn’t even joined you on the slopes properly, instead choosing to order everyone about from the comfort of his snowmobile.
“C’mon fellas - get into a line! Go on! I’ll chase ya!”
“For god’s sake Billy, move it along! You nearly made me take your whole damn leg off!” A pause, before raucous laughter ensued, “Again!”
Still, you hadn’t minded this turn of events since it meant you hadn’t had to try and remember your rushed and hurried lesson on the nursery slopes that afternoon. Instead, you’d given it one go accompanied by his shouts of laughter at your falling,
“How’d a dancer get to be so goddamn clumsy?”
“I wasn’t a dancer!” You’d protested from your position flat on your back in the snow.
“You danced real pretty for me though doll.” You rolled your eyes, scrambling back to your feet, trying not to pout as you brushed yourself off, he shook his head laughing once more before shouting back at you.
“Aw now darlin’, that ain’t a pretty sight. C’mon, better hop onto the back of here, it’ll be a bit safer for you.” He’d said it through giggles, and you felt the determination to get down by yourself rise up again,
“That won’t be necessary!” You attempted to take off again, and just as you were attempting to straighten your skis, about 12 feet from where you had last fallen, you were on your side again in the snow. Elvis didn’t give you a choice this time, angrily killing the engine completely and storming over as best he could through the thick snow, yanking you up by your arm and dusting you off himself.
“‘S not the time to be stubborn, C’mon now.” You can’t see his facial expression, obscured by his layers and the dark but you can hear that his annoyed words would be accompanied by tightly knitted eyebrows and a frown.
“I can do it.” You angrily pulled your arm out of his grasp, the momentum immediately making you start to lose your balance again, and Elvis catches you before you could fall for a third time.
“For heaven’s sake,” You can practically hear his eyes roll, accompanied by a sigh as he tries to change tact, “I’m sure you can, but it’s dark, and you’ve already tripped twice.” You frown, and he placates, a soothing hand rubbing down your arm, “I just, I just worry about you baby, c’mon, let me look after you - you’re liable to break - no no no, don’t look at me like that,” His hand comes up to cup your face, “I just care about you s’all, don’t want you to get hurt.” He says it so honestly and affectionately that you find yourself nodding in agreement, and truthfully, despite your obstinance, you couldn’t have agreed more - you probably would break a leg if he’d let you go on. He grins at you, “There we are, you know it makes sense, don’t you - there’s my good little bunny. C’mon then, hop to it,” He pats your ass encouragingly, although the padding makes the action redundant, and you slowly make your way over to the snowmobile.
You climbed onto the back slightly awkwardly, almost reluctant to be too close in front of all the guys, despite your cuddling the days before - they’d always been a little more distracted by their own activities to spend much time assessing yours. But Elvis yanked your arm around at the first possible chance, patting your hand where it lay against his padded stomach and tugging you to press yourself against him. You were getting a little bored, and nervous, of all the commotion so you found yourself totally content to curl against his body for warmth and tuck your chin into his shoulder. Despite your brand-new base layers, and soft down ski suit, there had still been enough of a chill in the night air, and from laying in the cold snow, that you were eager to be as close as possible. Elvis’ figure was more padded than you were used to feeling him, his coat also puffy and filled with down. You took immense pleasure in squeezing him tightly enough that you felt the padding compress, eager hands trying to find his body underneath. You found yourself considering, as one hand came to play with the little hairs escaping his mask and goggles at the base of his neck, that it was a damn shame you were both so covered up, since you couldn’t smell him. If you’d been less love-drunk on him you’d have been amazed at yourself; at thinking it was a damn shame, you were unable to smell an undoubtedly sweaty man.
You have no idea how long you spent on the back of the snowmobile, hands roving all over him; only that you quickly lost all sense of self-consciousness and instead felt a rising feeling of possession. A dangerous feeling if ever there was one, but enough that you felt your manicured hands staking their claim, rubbing over his arms and back. Elvis seemed to be enjoying it, shifting to be closer to you whenever you moved away, and patting at your arm.
When he finally, at speeds far too reckless for the early morning night sky, drove you back to the lodge he barely said a word to the rest of the group grabbing your hand and pulling you straight to the master bedroom. It was exciting and, whilst you were almost reluctant to get your hopes up too high, your thighs had been clenching of their own accord for the past hour and you could feel the dampness of your underwear against your warm delicate skin - it was impossible not to; you’d been on edge for hours.
He’s sweaty from his layers, his red face revealed when he pulls his ski mask and goggles off, there’s a hint of stubble coming through and his face looks alive, cheeks plump with his grin. You were happy to be back in the comfort of the wood-panelled bedroom, although its cozy feel belied the chill that seemed to remain in the air of the wintry cabin. Elvis doesn’t say anything as he concentrates on taking off layer after layer until he’s mostly down to his bare, pinkened skin. You smile when it’s revealed he hadn’t backed down from his childlike refusal to wear proper base layers, silk shirt coming into view but at least you can tell from the sweat patches and his damp skin that he’d certainly been warm enough. You feel like you’re melting from the inside out from the sheer fondness overtaking you until he tugs it over his head, an unusual lack of care shown to it. You meet his eyes in pleased surprise, and you’re further taken aback at how he manages to make his eyes twinkle so much, playfully glittering in the low light of the room. You can see his smirk growing as your eyes travel down his bare chest, an involuntary noise spilling out of your mouth. It’s been so long since you had the chance to stare at him like this. Elvis gestures at you, disrupting your intense focus, and you suddenly realise you’ve been standing still staring at him for almost too long, so you rapidly start to unboot yourself. You don’t get any further than kicking your shoes off before Elvis is suddenly in front of you. He brushes your hands off of yourself, fingering at your zipper himself. He twirls it between his fingers, ever so gently with one hand - the other coming to distract you from the anticipation by cupping your face, drawing you around to look into your eyes.
Elvis’ hair has always been long enough for you to run your fingers through, but it seems to have grown almost thicker, and you inch even closer to stroke his cheeks, pushing back his hair - frizzy from its woollen containment. Despite Larry’s accompaniment on the trip when you brush back the hair at his temples you can see the same hint of grey starting to show through as before, and you can’t resist stroking the strands there.
He smiles at you, pulling you into him to kiss you, making you breathless. As soon as you were distracted, he was unzipping the jacket of your snowsuit, shoving it off your shoulders and down to your waist. It falls to your feet by itself and you immediately pull off your under layers. It simultaneously feels frenzied but also slower than before; like both of you couldn’t wait even though you knew you had the chance to take your time. You lean back so he can tug your undershirt over your head, barely breaking contact with his lips. He pulls back, grinning, after fiddling with your bra clasp, the straps falling from your shoulders. Soon you’re practically nude, your naked chest pressed against his.
He feels solid against you; it’s been a long time since you both had the opportunity to take your time like this, and his body feels slightly different than before. He still had that uniquely Elvis feel but he was sturdier, and though you doubted it could possibly be true, it felt as if his soft carpet of chest and stomach hair had grown larger, trailing down into the swell of his stomach like a tantalising arrow. He’s surer of himself than he was the last time you found yourself naked with him, reminding you of how he was back on Big Bunny, his broad yet slender hands firmly spanning your sides. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were finding him so attractive because it had been a while, or if it really was just that he always looks good. Any thought was swept from your mind though when he recaptures your mouth, his lips soft and firm against yours, and his tongue insistently presses past yours in a way that could only be described as eager.
The movement of your chests against each other is enough for you to gasp against him - desperately moving to be closer, trying to practically become one with him. You can feel him smile at your desperate noises, before he moves a little. One of his hands slide down to rest at your waist, the other encircling your wrist. He holds it at your side, your other arm is trapped between you, and you whine at him between gasping breaths that it’s not fair, “C’mon El, that’s unfair, let me touch you,” He grins against your cheek, his spare hand moving to palm up at you.
Elvis presses a kiss against the side of your mouth, and as you start to voice your protests at his movement he mutters, “I just need - let me light the fire, hon.” against your skin, the vibration of his voice causing you to shiver. He pulls away with a final tug to your bottom lip, and you find yourself pouting at the loss of his heat. You fold your arms across your chest, a little self-conscious now he’s moved away and besides it was slightly chilly, but you couldn’t bear to let him leave you - besides weren’t you about to warm each other up? Although, maybe you were more ready than he was; as he was soft still, and the thought of him tending to the fire - the domesticity of the combination made your stomach clench perhaps more than if he’d been hard and ready to go. But still, you were reluctant to allow him to move away.
“I’m sure I’m hot enough,” He shakes his head, kissing your hand as he lets go of you entirely, “Honestly - we-we’ll be under the covers in a moment anyway, and I’m, I’m already burning babe.” But he’s already wandered over to the fireplace; thankfully it had been left pretty well set-up, and all that really has to be done is the physical lighting of the kindling already in place and you console yourself with the knowledge that it should only take a few seconds.
“Not gonna let my bitty baby bunny get cold, hims gotta take care of herses.” He mutters seemingly mostly to himself although he was more than loud enough for you to hear. It does the job he intended it to, and you can feel yourself start to melt in response. He glances back at you as he crouches by the fireplace.
“Hadta do this in the army baby,” You start to laugh at his tangent, “Yeah I did!” He ardently refutes your chuckle, “- with none of these fancy tools,” He’s holding up a box of firelighters, “No siree, just two sticks and a rock and I could light anything up.” You giggle, finding the situation all the more amusing when you notice he seems to be struggling to light it now. He keeps trying with the book of matches from the side, but for some reason they just won’t seem to take and he huffs, swearing, standing himself back up from his kneeling position to storm over to his jacket, fumbling in his pocket for one of his lighters. Your jaw drops as you watch him reach inside the fire to hold one of the crumbling firelighters in his hand, and he lights it to the accompaniments of your shrieks and admonishments;
“Elvis! Oh god put that down! You’ll set your - oh lord, you’ll set your chest on fire doing that!” He turns to grin at you, before swearing as the fire licks his fingers, throwing the flaming chunk into the fire, and finally - finally watching as the kindling starts to flicker.
“Told you, honey, no problem at all.” He shrugs his shoulders, but your heart rate hasn’t yet levelled back out and you can’t help but continue to scold him.
“Jesus, what would I have told everyone! I swear -” He stands up, away from the fire now crackling to life, holding his hands out placatingly,
“No, no, no,” He grins, “No sweat, baby, I knew what I was doin’.” He’s got that boyish glint in his eyes, happy as only a man who has achieved a stupidly primal action like lighting a fire or setting off a firework can be, and when you continue to scold him he suddenly rushes at you, knocking you off your feet and sending you tumbling together onto the bed. His broad arms come around you, holding you like a movie starlet swooning in his arms.
“Shhhh…. honey, bunny, I knew what I was doin’ ok? You see, I was just foolin’ around, pretendin’ I couldn’t light it - you know, just messin’ with you a little, just - just for fun.” You snort in disbelief, although you’re quickly distracted as he kisses the crook of your neck, following an invisible line down to your shoulder and back up to your neck, one of his hands coming to hold the back of your neck while the other traces circle on your stomach. You gasp, and you can feel his grin against you.
“El—vis, oh - god, you can, let me get these off - please,” and you wriggle out of your panties, shoving them to your knees and kicking them off, when you manage to flick them off of your ankle your legs return to the bed, slightly more parted than before, desperately inviting Elvis to do more.
“You believe me don’t you honey?” His fingertips dance over you,
“Wha-” He repeats the question,
“You believe me, right, bunny? Y’know I could’ve lit it in seconds?” his fingers trace below your belly button.
“Uh, yeah, yeah, of course - who needs firelighters! Not Elvis!” He grins at you, and the sight of it makes you tease further, “Boy, you could, you could,” You giggle breathlessly, “You could make it a part of your show, you know - what can’t Elvis set on fire?!” You do a jazz hands gesture for emphasis. Elvis throws his head back in laughter, his head hitting the pillows and you wriggle in pleased amusement next to him for a moment before he sits back up,
“Oh ho - you take that back, little girl,” His fingers prod into you, tickling your sides and you scrunch up as you giggle more,
“I take it - oh! I take it back! You did, you did an excellent job.” He nods in self-satisfaction,
“Now,” his hands soothe the pinkened skin from where he’d jabbed into you, “Let me make you feel good, baby.” Elvis leans up and over you, cupping your face to pull you into another, deep, kiss while his hand finally travels down past your navel, brushing over your inner thighs. Your hips jerk up, as if offering yourself up to him. You can feel his arousal growing against your thigh, twitching like the little bunny nose he claimed you had.
“Lord, bunny, you’re so soft, can barely feel ya, s’like silk down here I swear to god.” Your eyes slip closed, your back arching at the feel of his soft pads sliding through the silky wetness of your folds, and your legs opening a little wider of their own accord in invitation, begging him to go lower or higher or something. When all of a sudden you feel a chill at the loss of his presence as he moves away. Your eyes flutter back open to see him, bare ass on show, bent over and poking at the fire - adding an additional log that immediately crackles and spits, onto the top.
“El-Elvis.” The situation catches you by surprise; to be abandoned in favour of fiddling with a fire could be seen as a little offensive in some ways, but it tickles you and the giggles overcome you before you can ask what exactly he was playing at.
“Ah, sorry honey, I didn’t mean to leave you hanging’ there but it was in danger of goin’ out.” He runs his hand through his hair as he stands back up, his hands falling to just below his hips for a second while he surveys the fire - making doubly sure he’d gotten it set up. He stretches, and you admire the muscles in his back as they move with his arms for a moment. He turns and stalks back over to the bed - immediately jumping beside you, bouncing you up before he gathers you back into his arms. His hand reaching across you to cling you to him, arm over your waist, finger barely brushing a nipple.
“You should worry about me going out at this rate -” He laughs at you, rubbing his thick fingers down your sides.
“Ohh-ho, but baby, bunny, I thought you were burnin’ for me? “He does his famous lip movement, somewhat self-deprecatingly, “just a...” He moves his hips next to you, “burnin’ love. Uh-huh? Bunny love?” You bite your lip at him - it was funny, but more than anything you can feel the arousal growing again in the pit of your stomach. He smiles at you, not expecting a response before he shakes his head, leaning over to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before flopping back to stretch out on his back. You roll with him, lazily kissing his chest. It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt with him in months, maybe even in the past year.
He slides his hand back down, one of his long, thicker but still fundamentally slender, fingers preceding the others. You’re more than ready for him, and while your hips move in response to him pressing it past your entrance it’s not enough for the desire burning inside you.
“’S no good - can I - are you, are you ready for me?” He looks at you a little surprised,
“Yeah, sure, just - how d’you want the pillows.” He makes as if to get up and move himself off of his back, but you stop him with a hand to his chest. Your fingertips tweak his nipple, just the tiniest bit and you take pleasure in his open-mouthed reaction; perhaps a little surprised at your initiative and he looks wide-eyed when you tell him,
“Well, maybe I could…uhh..y’know,” You gesture vaguely towards his cock, he blinks at you, “Climb on?” His mouth stays open for a moment before he seems to remember himself, remember that such an offer shouldn’t seem a surprise to him. If you had the brain power to think you would consider it a little sad; the confidence he’d had on Big Bunny in comparison to now. He shakes his head, even as he settles back against the headboard, seeming to recollect himself, smirking.
“Sure thing, honey, I just thought women didn’t like doin’ any of the work.” You roll your eyes, not bothering to mention that this wasn’t even the first time you’d ridden him, but still, you swing your leg over him and with a helping hand from him to position himself you settle down, your thighs straining over the breadth of his lap. You immediately regret your decision to face him when you realise it means he’s watching your face almost too closely, and you say a silent prayer of thanks that you had had enough experience with him that you weren’t overly intimidated. He holds himself steady, letting you sink yourself down onto the sturdy length of him. His own face screws up, falling back onto the pillow behind him at the feel of the warmth of your wet heat pressing down onto him. You struggle for balance for a second, before your hands find their way onto his shoulders for a moment while you adjust to him. It’s been a while, a fact Elvis points out as he gasps at you that,
“Oh - lord, Jesus, honey, you been waitin’ for me? Ain’t - God, takin’ me so goddamn perfectly; feels just right for little Elvie, such a good little bunny, all for me.” Your hands scramble down his chest to his, admittedly thicker and softer middle, to push back and hold yourself up.
“Elvis - you feel, oh, I, I’ve missed this,” You shudder around him,
“Can tell,” He huffs as you start to lift up on your knees, “Can tell you’ve been so good for me, huh baby,” He grips your hipbones, “just a itty bitty baby bun bein’ good for me, holdin’ on jus for me.” You moan at the feel of the different angle he hits inside of you from this position, and as you find your momentum rising up and rocking yourself back down you feel your confidence growing.
“Oh, uh-huuh, good girl, oh lord that’s sexy…” You moan in response as you lean backwards a little, encouraging him to come up to play with your breasts. It amuses you how he still tweaks and pulls like a teen in the back of his daddy’s car, yet somehow, he manages to get the pressure just right, grinning at you knowingly as he licks his fingertips before bringing them back to your nipples twisting them just enough that the combination sends a rush of wetness. It’s a distraction for a second, but mere moments later and your thighs are screaming at you. Unlike on Big Bunny though this time you’re determined to see it through, and you blink through half-closed eyes at him, his own sweaty face staring back at you, mouth-open. Your hands paw at his chest, struggling to find something to grip to get the leverage you need, fingertips scratching at his chest hair, and Elvis eventually puts his hands back to your waist, his own hips moving to help you bounce on him.
You can no longer bring yourself to care about how you look - entirely lost in the sensations - groaning a little in annoyance as your hair falls over your face and into your eyes. You struggle to try and brush it away while still keeping your balance and momentum but quickly you feel Elvis’ hands move from your waist, one large sweaty paw coming up to push your hair off your face, his thumb stroking down your cheek after it’s tucked back. You let him slip it past your mouth as you rock onto him, moaning against his soft skin. His mouth stays open watching you with heated eyes,
“C’mon now, mama, finish the job.” You nod rapidly, his thumb tumbling out of your mouth, and he trails the spit-soaked digit down to rub along your thigh, letting his hips jerk into you, rolling with the movement. His hand sinks down, and your hands come to his shoulders as he starts to roll his thumb against your clit, his hand resting on the joint of your thigh and his other coming to back down to clutch at your hipbone. You’re almost there when you feel his hand suddenly pause as his hips thrust up more aggressively than before - more like how he used to perform and you’re about to shriek in protest, tell him off for stopping you right at the precipice, until you see his face screwed up, perfect lips open.
“Oh - Oh, fuck, fu-fu-uck.” He stutters the word, relief palpable, as if releasing after an immeasurable time. His hand moves back to play with you, his thumb moving rapidly, rubbing exactly over the right spot and it’s almost too much, the overstimulation making you lose your words as he slips and slides it back and forth. You’re begging him for something, although you’re not sure what and he praises you as you grind against him.
“That’s it, that’s it,” Elvis is breathless still as he encourages you, “C’mon bunny, you can give it to me baby, c’mon baby, c’mon.” He’s growling in your ear and you fall forward, his softening cock rubbing wetly against your folds as you land against his chest. His voice is enough to tip you over the edge, and you find yourself rutting against him, gasping into his collarbone before going stiff, stomach muscles and thighs convulsing as you twitchingly hurtle through an orgasm. “Shit.” He swipes his thumb over you again and you flinch away, but he pulls it away himself, shushing you before he pats his other hand onto your back and you jolt at what amounted to a an unintentionally heavy thump, his thumb stroking and soothing you back to quiet. His lips press against your shoulder blade, I love you it feels like he whispers against your skin, and you shout it back to him in your mind.
The next day you think to get ahead of Elvis, sending him to go and play with the guys while you rush back into the house, claiming a headache and a desire for an early night. You’ve lit the fire by the time he gets in and while you’d debated waiting for him naked and ready, you’d grown too self-conscious in his absence, so you were tucked under the covers; supposedly reading his book he’d left on the nightstand although you’d done more listening out for their return than actual reading.
You can hear him shouting to the boys on his way through, no regard for the idea that you might be asleep. He comes bounding through the door, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of you. The door falling closed behind him with a clunk.
“You waitin’ up for me, bunny?” You swallow, trying your best at seduction, shoving the covers off to unveil your lingerie clad body,
“Uh-huh,” You nod, “Waiting and waiting just for you.” He grins, unzipping his jacket and starting to stalk towards you. The fire crackles and he pauses, his head turning to look at it.
“Oh. You lit it without me?” Your mind runs in circles as you try to work out his tone,
“Um, yeah - it was cold, so…” He frowns, looking back at you, huffing as he shoves off his jacket entirely, you come to the realisation that he’s actually a little annoyed, “I, I, just thought it would save you a job - you know, it would all be done, and you could just…” You gesture down yourself. He doesn’t respond, finishing stripping himself off and collecting up his pyjamas to take them into the bathroom with him.
“Elvis? You’re not, don’t be mad at me - I really was just trying to be helpful.” He shakes his head,
“I’m not mad, baby.” Elvis disappears into the bathroom leaving you to squirm on the bed, your tummy in knots. You’ve put his book back on his nightstand and have tucked yourself back under the sheets, feeling too exposed to stay as you were, by the time he comes back out clearly ready for bed himself. He throws back the sheets, climbing in,
“I-I like doin’ it honey, honest -” He opens up his arms for you to curl into, “I know the place has proper heat and all, but it just feels more, uh, atmospheric, doesn’t it?”
“I know El, that’s, that’s why I lit it?” He hums against the top of your head,
“I know sweetheart, uh, thank you, but I like taking care of you.” You nod in understanding, trying not to be too disappointed that your attempt at doing something nice seemed to have derailed your night. “So, what did you think?” He nods towards his book,
“Oh, I- I barely got a chapter in, I didn’t wanna lose your place,” You settle against his chest,
“Oh no, honey, I’ve - I’ve read it over and over, not got a place to lose - you go right ahead.” You mumble a thank you, but make no attempt to move, “Or I could read it to you?” His hand strokes your back, and you nod your head against his chest,
“That would be nice - yes, thank you.”
“Did you like it?”
“Mmhmm…. what, what do you like about it?” He never picks the book back up and you happily drift off to the sounds of his deep voice rumbling on about his spiritual conclusions from the text.
———————————
The next morning you find yourself waking up much earlier than everyone else, and you end up unable to fall back to sleep. You eye the bottle of pills on Elvis’ nightstand, but you would be too nervous to take something without waking him up and he looks so peaceful, gently snuffling beside you. Instead, you end up pottering about in the kitchen, making yourself a drink and curling up onto the couch in the living room with his book. An hour or so later Billy stumbles across you on his own hunt for a cup of coffee, and it’s almost awkwardly silent for a second as he stares at you from across the room. You’re just about to ask if there was something he wanted you to do when he breaks the silence first,
“You know…he’s really going for Ginger.” He looks you up and down, “But, you could - well, what I mean to say is that the boys like you.” You’re taken aback, unsure what he even means by that, and you stumble over your response,
“Oh, I don’t - I don’t wanna step on anyone’s toes or anything, you know I’m just - I’ve never been skiing so Elvis asked and -” He cuts you off mid-sentence,
“Look I’m not saying you’ve gotta go around acting like you’re off the streets, but just you know. If you wanted,” He gestures in the general direction of the hallway and Elvis’ bedroom. “I’m sure… well I know I wouldn’t protest.” You swallow hard as you try to consider the correct response.
“That’s very kind of you to say. I appreciate it.” You’re a little nervous this is a test and while part of you wants to bombard him with questions about what the issue is with Ginger - and does he really think you have a chance with Elvis? Like his girlfriend? You’re not sure how much will get back to Elvis and you’d rather be painted as cold than desperately vying for Ginger’s spot. Part of you cringes at the implication that all the guys were out discussing his relationships; that they all thought they knew best, on the other hand the little you’d seen of Ginger did little to change your perception from the same as theirs. She seemed nice enough, but Elvis certainly seemed a lot more hot and heavy than her. Even if there hadn’t been a lot of hot and heavy lately - except, apparently with you.
Later, when everyone but Elvis was up and despite everyone else’s protestations (and Billy’s attempts) you stayed firm in your resolve not to let them light the fire in even the main room. If Elvis wanted to do it and liked doing it, you were going to be damn sure it was there for him to do. It was storming quite heavily outside, and while you waited for Elvis to wake up, you’d all decided it was best to hang around inside.
You settled down on the floor by the coffee table to set up some cards, pretending to be nonchalant about where you’d placed yourself even as you hoped your position would put you exactly by his legs, and the perfect distance for optimum warmth from the, soon to be lit, fire. Elvis chooses that moment to walk in from the bedroom, in yet another strange silk shirt and tracksuit combination.
“Hi doll,” He bends over to press a kiss the top of your head, and you lean up into it. He rubs his hands together in an exaggerated motion as if for warmth when he stands back up.
“Shit. It’s fucking freezing in here.” He looks around, “Why’d no-one light the fire?” They all turn to glare at you, and you start to explain, stumbling over your words.
“Yesterday! Yesterday - you, you were offended, when I - I just thought you’d enjoy it!” You protest, and Elvis stares at you, eyes narrowing as if you were the white witch putting the cabin into permanent winter.
“Offended! Lord, the whole goddamn world will be fuckin’ offended when I can’t sing for shit b’cause I’ve caught pneu-neu-monia and my throat’s scratched to all hell!”
“Oh, I didn’t - I mean, the main heat is on - I didn’t think…” He ignores you to plop himself down opposite to where you were sitting, miles away from where you’d been planning and anticipating for him to sit. Elvis angrily gestures towards the fire and both Ed and Dick rush towards it, making sure it was lit quickly. You can feel the other girls look at you sympathetically, even as you desperately try to avoid everyone else’s eye, annoyed and upset at being publicly scolded. It’s bad enough for Elvis to be pissed off with you in public, you didn’t need their pity too. It felt like you were being judged for not knowing how to deal with him like this, you can feel some of them - Joe and Shirley for sure - rolling their eyes at you, but you didn’t know better; every time he’d been annoyed in the past you could escape with the excuse of needing to get something from the galley or you were alone in the bedroom together - and you could use other methods to soothe him. But to be in this situation in public was completely unchartered territory, and though you knew everyone there had to be aware of your relationship and situation, it still made you uncomfortable to be having an argument out in the open. At the first opportunity you have you excuse yourself, claiming another headache and shaking your head at Dr Nick’s offers of painkillers you head off to the bedroom.
Elvis comes barging in an hour or so later, and you flinch at the bang of the door against the wall, already bracing yourself to be accused of sulking or some other continuation of the argument but you remain where you lay in bed, on your side facing away from the doorway and try to concentrate on the words on the page of his book again. He sighs, and just as loudly as he’d opened it he slams the door closed. He makes his way over to you, sitting on the other side of the bed and looking over at you.
“My little bunny isn’t mad at me is she?” His tone is almost contrite, and you immediately roll yourself over to look at him. He’s got a boyish look on his face and you can feel yourself starting to melt, but you’re not entirely ready to forgive him yet.
“I’m not mad at you Elvis.” He frowns, titling his head like a confused golden retriever. He lets his head flop into his shoulder as he peers at you.
“Come on baby, you know I didn’t mean it.” You hum back at him, trying hard not to be swayed by his expressive blue eyes. He clambers up onto the bed, to cuddle into the side of you, running a finger down your arm, “Oh you can’t be mad at me, bunny can’t be mad at him - not when he yuvs her so so much,” He curls his arm around you to tug you closer to him, and you struggle not to smile as he continues baby-talking you, “not his bitty bunny,” He presses a kiss into your arm, shifting himself to place several leading up the back of your neck, and then leaning over to press them against your shoulder, he murmurs against your skin, “she wouldn’t ever be mad at him, his bitty, baby, bunny who he yuvs…” Your heart clenches. You know he’s manipulating you, and you’re still embarrassed, but he sounds so sincere. Even if he’s only saying it so he doesn’t have to outright apologise Elvis suggesting he loves you in any way is enough to make you forgive him.
“I’m not mad at you, I promise.” You roll around to look at him, staring into his eyes, “I swear Elvis - I’m not. I’m sorry for trying to control the situation.”
“Nah, nah you were just, you were just tryin’ to take care of me - I see that, let me, let me make it up to you baby,” His fingers glide over your stomach and sides, toying with the waistband of the corduroy trousers you were wearing. He looks deep into your eyes, searching for something, and he smiles a moment later, “C’mon bunny, lemme make you feel good. Let hims make it up to hers.” His fingers wriggle under the waistband while the other pops the buttons and you lift your hips to allow him to take them off.
He presses his lips to yours, ever so briefly, and you try to chase him even as he pulls away, his palm holding you down while he moves his mouth down your neck. He sucks a bruise onto your collarbone, and you shift in his grip, rubbing your thighs together as he laps at the little maroon mark. He sits up, settling himself between your legs but keeps his hand on your stomach, its wide span pinning you against the bed. No rings this time to dig into your skin, just the intimate feel of his fingers flexing against your abdomen. He brings his other to pat your legs apart. You flop onto your back, unable to stay in a crunch staring at him, the look on his face as he stares at your pussy too much to take.
You’ve been tense waiting for him, and though you feel yourself automatically relax into his thick hands you still worry momentarily that it’s going to be hard to get you to finish. You don’t want to disappoint him, and you open your mouth to tell him as much when his rough tongue laps at your soft folds, twirling around your clit. His tongue has lost none of its finesse, and he has no difficulty, with the help of two of his fingers to bring you to the brink within a few minutes. He laps against you, sideburns tickling your inner thighs, for what feels like forever and you’re struggling to keep your legs open and not wrap your thighs around his head, contenting yourself with tangling your fingers into his hair, holding him into place with the little strength you could muster. He’s not quiet when he does this - Elvis never is, uttering his own pleased little hums that seem to harmonise with your own, much louder moans and curses, the vibrations rebounding around your core. It’s not long before he sits up, mouth glistening - clearly ever so pleased with himself while you pant away the white spots behind your eyes.
“There’s a good girl now.” He pats at you, “C’mon back out now - ‘s no good sulking in here.” And though you never were sulking you find yourself tiredly nodding at his instruction, more than willing to do whatever he asks of you, boneless and biddable.
———————————
It’s strange when you get back home - It felt like you’d been away for months, wrapped up in your little Elvis vacation bubble, and yet it had scarcely been two weeks. It’s absurd that it’s such a struggle to adjust again. You’d let yourself get so close during the trip that it was painful to have to force yourself to watch and listen as he calls Ginger before you take off on the way home, or to be totally ignored as they all clamber out of the plane when you hit the ground in Tennessee. The trouble with Elvis, you thought to yourself as you finally sunk back into your own bed, was that he was everything. More than everything - everything revolved around him, like planets orbiting the sun and it felt near impossible to escape his gravitational pull. You knew your mother would say, “Baby, finish on a high; keep the memories.” The issue with that is that now you’ve had a little you want more. There’s no way in hell you can quit now. Not before you’ve had just a little taste more, just one more fumble, one more heated look from him, one more whispered I love you into your neck. But you have no idea if the desire is reciprocal; it’s hard not to read too much into it when your presence is conspicuously absent in March. You didn’t even know they were going to Hawaii, or that they had gone until Georgia told you about it while mentioning their rushed return home. Did he think you’d have a problem flying him and Ginger somewhere? Or did he think you wouldn’t be able to be discrete; a laughable idea since you’d been proving yourself in that department for the past three years. Elvis doesn’t mention it to you, so you keep quiet too, and almost immediately after regular service seems to resume.
You weren’t pleased for long, when it became clear that while he hadn’t looked much worse for wear after the apparent ordeal in Hawaii, and his voice sounded as good as before - none of this was to last. The monotony of the road, the easy habits of most of a decade immediately flooding back to him.
Despite having spent as much, if not more, time with him than a girlfriend would have done in the past three or four years, the long days and nights spent together you can feel him drifting. You had been there when other girls were there, there when they weren’t - watched over him awake and asleep. But you weren’t. You weren’t his girl, you were, at your core, essentially an addition to his jet. An amenity. So, when you get the call that a couple of tour dates were cancelled and that your services weren’t needed, before an almost immediate redaction and urgent request for your services, to get him ostensibly home, and in reality, quickly to the comfort of a hospital. You were at once concerned - you weren’t allowed to be worried, that was for family and friends - for Ginger and Vernon to pace back and forth in a waiting room. Your job was to remain calm. Professional and calm, even if you knew that had he been more conscious he’d have demanded your presence. He’d said as much after Linda had left - that you were his first choice. Maybe not just an amenity after all. That you would have been the one with his head in your lap, dabbing at his forehead - rather than Ginger’s hesitant pats to his arm. But it’s not you, and you have to simply take a deep breath, hoping that you’d at least get an update.
There were, by May, so many signs that things are going wrong, even to your untrained eye. Maybe because you saw him less and less, the flights short between tour stops, the requests to see you at the hotels suddenly lacking, that it doesn’t feel like a gradual change in the way the men describe it to be. The paranoia, the fear, and the sheer absurdity of his behaviour all seem to hit you all the more because you were able to directly compare to when he was doing alright, to how, mere weeks ago, you’d been having a grand time in Vail together.
The guns. The guns had become a symbol of his sheer level of turbulence. He’d threatened you before, at a time where it had seemed so out of the blue it was laughable - now, if he’d done the same thing you’d be more worried - he wasn’t as careful as he had always been. You weren’t a pilot, you didn’t have the same responsibilities, but even so the guns at Binghampton had almost cost you your job and would have certainly cost you your reputation had it all gone south. Had Elvis not somehow, despite his state, been able to effectively charm the officer in charge into forgetting his apparent oversight; although how, considering the guns had tumbled out right in front of them, was anyone’s guess. The ramifications were awful though, you and Ron and Elwood stressed about the ‘cargo’ on the plane, while Elvis shouted to anyone who would listen that he could do what he goddamn liked, waving his narcotics badge at anyone who tried to tactfully protest. You hated it.
It’s a long flight, at the end of a long week. It’s been trying for all involved, although Elvis has spent a lot of the time that you’ve seen him in a half-asleep state, desperately trying to recover from the strains and stresses of the brutal tour schedule he’s been put on again. You’ve corralled him into the bedroom on the Lisa-Marie, it’s a six-hour flight - not nearly long enough for him to recuperate properly, but enough that you actually have a fighting chance for once. He’d been playful and handsy the day before, the way he was sometimes - likely having taken one too many uppers, but you could tell from the lines and bags under his make-up that, though it’s been ages - to try and tease or play with him now would be borderline cruel. Instead, you focus on making him comfortable, tucking him up with you under the soft covers of the large bed, petting him exactly as he likes it. He’s just starting to calm himself down and you continue to murmur to the top of his head when he suddenly starts talking,
“I don’t, don’t wanna marry-marry her.” His speech is slurring, and you can’t be sure if it’s from sleep, or the effects of the palmful of pills he’d taken an hour ago, or some combination of it all. Oh, so maybe that’s why he’s gone off the rails?
“You don’t, - you don’t have to El- if you don’t want to,” You murmur back to him, acknowledging internally that he must be both absolutely exhausted and feeling miserable if his immediate response wasn’t to tell you to mind your own goddamn business.
“I’ve gotta take care of it - get the boys to take care of it…. Daddy'll do it for me. He should.” He nods to himself, but his eyes stay closed.
“Elvis, sweetheart,” You whisper to him, “you can’t make your daddy do that for you, you’ve… gotta do it yourself.” You pat his back, and he burrows his head further into your lap, your fingers finding their way into his scalp, curling around and into the hairs at the nape of his neck as you gently stroke his head and back. “She’s, she’s a reasonable girl - I’m sure she’ll understand-”
“That’s…” There’s a long enough pause as his breathing evens out that you’re fairly sure he’s asleep, but then he mumbles back, “’S not her ‘m worried about…’s her, her folks.”
You try desperately to reassure him, muttering about how no-one could judge him for making a sensible decision, and better to cool it off now than later, but it’s too late, and the only response you get back is the sound of him snuffling in his sleep, his eyelids and forehead relaxing as he curls his legs into you, snuggling against your warm heat, tucked against the thick gold comforter.
You try to relax yourself, but your mind is whirring at a thousand thoughts a minute; all too many of which were imagining poor Vernon being gifted with the unfortunate task of breaking up with his son’s girlfriend.
You feel sorry for him, you never believe when the husbands of your friends make jokes about how they’ve been ‘trapped’ - it’s a man’s world, and it seems absurd to suggest that someone’s womanly wiles were solely the root of their relationship crisis and yet, his description of his relationship is starting to sound less like young fun and more like a calculated entrapment. For perhaps not the first time in his life. You sigh again, and jump when Elvis pats your arm,
“Shhh, s’ok, s’ok baby, I got you,” He’s fast asleep, eyes twitching being their lids — but still, his hands swipe over your side as he clumsily pats at you, shushing you while he does. The notion makes your eyes fill with tears, how could he still be so utterly sweet and dependent?
The next morning he made no reference to the night before, or his whispered confession and you dressed and continued on as normal. Your mind though kept floating back to the words Billy had said to you back in early February. Should you attempt to make a move? Or at least, make sure Elvis knew you were totally available? Before you have the chance to act on any of these impulses though there’s a rumour spreading across the group - that Elvis wasn’t coping, that he needed a break, that the tour was going to have to be cancelled. You’d pushed it out of your head, hopeful he’d just need a decent rest that would be enough to rejuvenate him to get through the tour. But tragically, the rumour had turned out to be true and you’d delivered him home to Memphis amidst cancelled shows and runs to the hospital. He’d looked terrible when you’d left him, looking back at you at the top of the plane steps. You want to turn up, check he’s ok, check that he’s sure about Ginger, that if he’s not going to end things then that she knows how to take care of him. That she’s doing the best she can.
It had been radio silence since that last flight and perhaps you should be assuming that no news is good news, but you find yourself thinking about him most days. Worrying and waiting. You wonder if he would let you in if you went to Graceland to see him, or if that was altogether too presumptuous, hell you’d heard all about how he hated girls that were too forward. But he loved to be taken care of - you supposed it all came down to control, and though you were desperate that he be well looked after, and you wished you could supervise that yourself, you were otherwise happy to let him take the lead – it was just altogether too scary to do anything else.
———————————
Finally, in the middle of the third week of July you get a call reminding you of the upcoming tour, and then, almost immediately after you agree, an unusual call from Elvis himself. The phone ringing insistently less than 5 minutes after you’d agreed to the tour details.
“How’re you doing baby?” He’s talking in that slow drawl he does when he’s sleepy, worn out from the day - from rehearsals maybe, or just life in general. “My bitty baby doin’ ok, huh?”
“I’m just fine,” You’re impossibly hungry for details, but reluctant to sound too eager,
“My yittle bun-bun lookin’ after herself?” You’d basically already told him this, but the wording makes you blush, and you don’t mind repeating yourself for him, “Of course. I’m ‘cited to see you.”
“That’s good, well, that’s reeeall good honey, because, uh, you see,” His voice takes on the explanatory tone he so enjoys, both didactic and gossiping, “I don’t know if you’ve heard… or I suppose you wouldn’t have yet, but uh, Ginger’s not, she’s not coming on this tour with me, we’re, uh, we’re well…” He trails off, and there’s little breathy noises down the phone to you, which lets you picture the way he would have just taken off his glasses, rubbing his fingers along the bridge of his nose.
“Oh,” What else is there to say? ‘Oh Elvis, I’m glad you’ve ditched your fiancee?’ Hardly.
“She was just, just a lil too young, jus’ a baby, not, she just - it wouldn’t be right to make her settle down with me right now. Not, not when I don’t know if she really…well you know.” You don’t know what to say, and Elvis waits only for a brief second before filling the silence himself,
“The thing is - I wasn’t sure, I don’t know if you’d heard, I’ve uh, I’ve been, well, I’ve been real sick to tell you the truth. Weren’t sure I were gonna make it out to this tour and we thought for sure we were gonna have to cancel but well, here we are.”
“You’re not… you’re feeling better?”
“Yes ma’am.” At least that sounds confident, “Got myself a new doctor, and ‘m, uh, on some new, uh, treatments and uh stuff.” He pauses, “Playin’ a lot of racquetball.” He sounds slightly sheepish, and while you’re endlessly curious you don’t press the point.
“Were you just ringing to confirm I’d be around?”
“Well, here’s the thing, the thing is, honey, the thing is - I know you’ve already had a call, but you see, I was sorta hoping maybe you’d be happy to cancel them plans?”
“Oh. You don’t want me on the plane?” There’s a moment of silence before he swears to himself, muttering down the phone that he’d learn to have some balls one of these days.
“No, No, you misunnerstand - I want you on the plane, and off the plane - I just want you to come with me.”
“Oh.”
“If you can’t, well, I understand.” He sounds resigned, and your heart breaks a little, “But, I want company baby, and I want yours.” You twist the phone cord around your fingers, breathless in your excited agreement,
“I want yours too! I’ve been - Billy said, well I’ve been hopin’ for months El, I miss you so much when we’re at home, and oh, I’d love to.” Somehow you can hear him shaking his head through the phone,
“That meddlin’ shit.” You giggle back at him, and he laughs in response before he keeps talking, “So - pack your bags, honey, and I’ll send a car to get you at the usual time?”
“So, am I - like working?” He huffs at you,
“No - no, not workin’ for me no more - just being there for me. Want you to be my girl baby - be good just for me - not chasing down the other guys to make ‘em drinks.” You shake your head, brain skipping over the important part of the statement to the last part for a moment.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever ‘chased’ the other guys,” He huffs down the phone,
“Well lemme tell you they’ve been chasin’ you, wolves chasin’ their lil bunny,”
“Hmm, there’s only one wolf I want to eat me though Elvis.”
“S’that right?”
“That’s right.”
“Well then, I’ll have it all ready for you, s’probably easier, y’know this late notice and all,” You read between the lines that Ginger’s still at Graceland, “that I’ll uh, you’ll be waitin’ for me on the Lisa-Marie?” You cringe, but he does sound more like himself than he has in weeks, and hopefully - unlike with Linda and Ginger he’ll keep to his promise and actually get rid of her before you get on board.
“Mmhmm, that should be fine.” You hear him move away from the phone for a second, talking to someone else for a moment,
“Right, honey, I’ve - I’ve, I’m bein’ told I’ve gotta go now - got a meeting in a minute, but don’t be afraid to call - anytime, you’re to be put straight through to me, y’hear?”
“Yep, Elvis, I hear,”
“Alright then, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, then - you take care of yourself baby,”
“You too El,” You’re about to say something stupid, like I love you, but with one last,
“Ok - buh-bye.” The line’s gone dead.
———————————
TAGLIST:
i’m just gonna tag anyone that’s specifically msged me about it and/or anyone who commented/reblogged the last three chapters -
@lookingforrainbows @ooihcnoiwlerh @ellie-24, @whositmcwhatsit, @thatbanditqueen, @vintageshanny, @doll-elvis @18lkpeters @prompted-wordsmith @richardslady121 @meetmeatyourworst @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @a-literal-no-name @elvisabutler @precious-little-scoundrel @eliseinmemphis @iloveelvis @literally-just-elvis-fics @livelaughlove-talia @angelborn1 @amydarcimarie @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @i-r-i-n-a-a @saintomie @literally-just-elvis-fics
#fic rec!!#elvis fanfic#elvis smut#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis x reader#elvis fanfiction#be-my-ally#big bunny#big daddy elvis#elvis x you#1976 elvis#1977 elvis#elvis presley fanfic
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Playing with the Dick-Jason-Tim age timeline again because playing with “can I fit Dick being 8 at the circus and Tim also being there” is enrichment for my brain.
Using Batman: Year 3 and A Lonely Place of Dying as the starting point this time, being that they are the ORIGIN of the timeline dilemma that nobody can quite square, and I have a solution to offer for the timeline up to LPoD (highly dependent on ‘if the pre-Crisis fact doesn’t fit, that’s because it’s pre-Crisis’ and ignoring future retcons. I’m building this from the original scaffold)
Dick is 8 at the circus. Tim is 3. We will establish this via Year 3 (“almost 10 years” since the Graysons died/the orphanage) and Tim’s canonical age in LPoD (13).
Given the fuzziness over when Tim actually turned 14, we’re going to run with Dick being close to his birthday when LPoD occurs. Using the 20 March birthday for Dick and the 19 July birthday for Tim, this gives us a 5 year, 4 month age gap and makes Tim about 3 ½ at the circus, which is a little older than I like him to be (I have so much more flexibility with dates if I can claim he’s 2, damn you Year 3 for using ‘almost’ rather than ‘approximately’), but we’ll live with it because I really need Dick to be almost 19 on the day Tim appears simply to try and cram as much pre-Crisis late-Robin and Nightwing history in as possible. This contradicts Dick being 20 prior to Jason’s death, but Dick can’t both be 20, have the circus 10 years ago, and be 8 years old for his parents’ death. However, squaring this with Janet Drake’s burial date of Christmas Eve is difficult, because Tim still being 13 at her funeral becomes impossible. Alternatively, if we use the 24 October birthday for Dick and still place Haly’s Circus and LPoD in the period before Dick’s birthday (maybe some time in September/October), we can come out of this with “about to turn 19” Dick and “13 and a bit” Tim, with a 5 year, 9 months gap between them, plus giving Tim a 3 month training period before he debuts as Robin on 24 December. In either case, choose whether Dick being born on the first of Northern Hemisphere Spring or Janet Drake being buried on Actual Christmas Eve is the more important fact in your heart to determine which option you use here.
Timeline markers:
Dick therefore does not debut as Robin until he is 9. He was Robin from 1940 to 1984, a period of 8, almost 9 years using ye olde 5 real years to 1 comics year rule. This actually matches fairly well with the date I want to give as when Dick stops being Robin – at some point when he’s 17. Yes, I have to give up the semester at Hudson University still happening while Dick is Robin not Nightwing, but that’s pre-Crisis. The Bruce and Dick fight where Bruce benches Dick, Dick storms out, and heads off to New York to be his own man (and changes his name to Nightwing) all happens at some point when Dick is ~17. Dick’s schooling is a bit of a black hole given his childhood and the contradictory birthdays (and the fact I’m not great on northern hemisphere school year dates and start dates). I THINK the October birthday is better for this in that we just have to pretend he was the youngest in the class, and can say Dick finished school still 17 and before he becomes Nightwing. March birthday I think if the fight happened while Dick was still 17 and at school, our lad was commuting from New York to school for the final few months (good thing his best friends include a speedster and a flyer, I guess). Or it happened when Dick was 18 and 3 months on approximately the exact day after Dick finished school, and the timeline suddenly gets VERY tight.
I like Dick being 17 when he becomes Nightwing if we can wrangle it for the simple fact that it gives a nice parallel for when Tim is 17 (and also loses the Robin title). Dick having gone through his big growing up moment before he entered legal adulthood makes the way the same mistake echoes down over the years more poignant (everyone has to grow up too young). I also would really like Dick to have finished his high school education before he becomes Nightwing simply because it makes a more coherent growing up narrative (and figuring out how Dick finished his education if he was living in New York is a headache we can then avoid).
In any case. Dick’s had his fight with Bruce. Call it June-July. Bruce, feeling lonely, decides the next sad teenager he meets who is trying to steal his tires is a great prospect to be the next Robin (son). Hello Jason. Jason is also 13. He is about to turn 14 the first moment possible. His birthday is apparently 16 August, which works really well for the fight going down right after Dick finishes school. Bruce makes Jason Robin. We are now on a hurried countdown. Jason turns 14. He was Robin from 1983-1988, which is right on 5 years, so approximately 1 comic year. Jason canonically dies on 27 April according to one picture of his tombstone. This would make him 14-nearly-15. This works great for October Birthday Dick and terrible for March Birthday Dick. If we have October Birthday Dick, Jason was around for ~10 months before he dies in April. If we have March Birthday Dick, Jason was around for anywhere between 7 months (Dick fired at 18 in June, Jason dies around January the next year) and a year (Dick fired before March still 17, Jason appears immediately after, and again dies around January/February the next year) while we ignore that April death date.
This works well on a meta level. One, there’s simply not that many Jason-as-Robin stories. Every time people stretch his period from Batmobile-tyres-to-death out beyond 20 months or so, you start hitting the point where you have more timeline than story to fill it, a problem seen practically nowhere else in comics. Jason has been cited as having 6 months of training before he went out on the streets. You can keep all of this if you want a very short period with Jason in the costume, you can call this comics time and shorten it if you’d prefer Jason to have longer in the costume. But Jason-as-Robin only lasting under a year lines up with everything about how we approximate the passage of time in comics. Secondly, Jason being Robin for only a short period matches the fact that he has very few interactions with Dick and the wider hero community. He has, what, ONE team up with the Titans? The one ski trip with Dick? Checking the Events timeline he had COIE (which he doesn’t remember), plus Legends and Millennium, for 3 Events during his tenure. He appears on page for all of these, but not in a manner where he’s interacting with heroes outside Gotham in any way he’d remember. He’s pretty isolated, but also there really isn’t any TIME to give him wider connections.
Also during this period, the majority of the NTT stuff prior to LPoD occurs, and Dick hypothetically does his single semester at university before dropping out (probably due to the amount of stuff going on in his life making studying hard). He may even have dropped out of university DUE to the drama surrounding all of this depending on which birthday timeline you run with. Tim is a lil bean at boarding school.
In any case, Jason Todd died. He wasn’t even 15 yet. It’s very tragic. Bruce immediately starts going off the rails with grief. October Birthday Dick (seriously, this just suits the timeframe here so much better) then gives us anywhere between 3-6 months of Bruce grieving and getting steadily more unstable before 13 year old Tim Drake decides Something Must Be Done, We Need A Robin. He then heads off to find Dick Grayson at any point between July and October, make this gap however long-short you want. March Birthday Dick we probably cram death-until-realisation into under 2 months, but we’re working with even more of a sliding scale given it’s just harder to anchor known stuff in this timeline.
Ta da!
Conclusions:
if I want this to work I am gonna run with the 24 October birthday for Dick, just because it makes pinning dates down easier. Sorry, 20 March birthday fans.
Ages: Tim is either 5 years, 4 months or 5 years, 8 months younger than Dick. Tim is 23 months younger than Jason. Jason is either 3 years, 3 months or 3 years, 7 months younger than Dick.
Cass is 2 years, 6 months older than Tim. She is 5 months older than Jason. She is either 2 years, 10 months or 3 years, 2 months younger than Dick.
Steph is about a year older than Tim and about a year younger than Cass.
Damian, who is extremely indirectly affected by anything in this timeline, is 6-7 years younger than Tim and 12 years younger than Dick. He was definitely conceived while Dick was Robin.
Incidentally: Tim figuring out Dick is Robin happens when he is 9. With this timeline, Dick was 14-15 when Tim worked that out. Tim therefore spent at LEAST two years fanboying Dick!Robin, and then saw Jason!Robin for at most a year, realistically closer to 6 months. “Jason was my Robin” doesn’t exist
(Also tragically for me, The ‘Tim is 3’ reading of the circus means that Tim was definitely born prior to Bruce’s return to Gotham. There’s this lovely little wrinkle that if you use a timeline where he’s 2 at the circus, he was probably born right around when Bruce debuted at Batman, which is just a sweet little note for a character so tied to other people’s origin stories)
(Seriously though if you allow Dick be 10 when he is orphaned, it lets him be Robin until 18-19, he can turn 20 before Jason’s death, frees up so much timeline kludging around the Jason period, even if it does create a bigger age gap between Dick and Tim)
#dc#playing with timelines#dc meta#post-crisis is pretty consistent in age progression#but 8 year old Dick Grayson actually sacrifices JASON’S timeline more than Tim’s#timeline shenanigans
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@pugs-cats-bb-8 tagged on my 7/9 post:
#persona 5#goro akechi#it's funny that you say he's hard to get a hold of#the first day he's available is 6-13#and he's available 10 times leading up to mid-July#plus his rank 3 is dependent on having R.3 charm And Knowledge plus no rain#even though I'm sure that cafe has a slight awning#he says the charm and knowledge is because his fans won't except any less#I think Akechi's just picky and playing hard to get#he's only available 39 times in the whole game#September is the worst month with 4 days of availability#October is a close second with 5 days#best months are August and November with 8 and 7#throw in a double stat block and a weather block for R. 3#an aquarium date dependent on ranking up Ohya And doing Futaba's palace as soon as it opens#R. 6 having a date block#R. 7 having a date block And stat block of Knowledge R.4#plus if you want the best ending and his third tier you have to pick specific choices#he's also very picky in presents#only 6 presents give 3 notes#2 presents give 2 notes#and the rest give one note#this boy is very complicated
That is invaluable information, and a level of attention to detail of which I can only dream tbh. So, in that spirit, I went back and replayed the whole of June and half of July, to get a complete calendar of Akechi interactions. Here's what I learned:
Apart from Saturday, there doesn't seem to be any real "you can find him on these days" schedule. Between June 10th (confidant 1) and July 12th (the date I got confidant 5 on my live playthrough), there are 9 days when you can find Akechi in Kichijoji, and those days are as follows:
all three possible Saturdays;
3 out of 4 possible Wednesdays. The other, 6/15, is rained off—though he doesn't show up even if you're doing confidant 2 rather than 3, and of course he shows up for confidant 2 on 6/13 in the rain;
once each on Monday, Tuesday or Thursday;
never on Friday or Sunday.
The week of 6/13 only has one day when you can find him—the Monday, when you can get confidant 2 and then he vanishes for the rest of the week. If you (say) don't get confidant 2 on 6/13, he still won't show up on 6/15 (his regular Wednesday slot) to offer it again;
The weeks of 6/27 and 7/4 each have two opportunities to meet him;
The week of 6/20, on the other hand, has three opportunities, and he will text you twice;
Once you're time-locked on the confidant, he will no longer appear in Kichijoji, and he will not text you to hang out;
If he's not time-locked, he always texts on Saturdays, so it looks like you're his big night out. Heavens, Akechi, the wild life you do lead.
so does he vanish for months in the summer?
Over in this post, I talked about how Akechi vanishes for most of September and October, in the runup to Joker's murder. There just appear to be no plot notes that bring the two of you together.
If you do confidant 5 on 7/2, and confidant 6 when it unlocks on 9/3, that looks like another two-month gap—but actually, there are various choreographed events that break it up:
train station meetings on 7/11, 7/20 and 9/2;
the lunch with Yoshizawa on 7/11;
the Medjed meeting with the PTs on 7/18;
the aquarium date on 7/29;
there is then a month's gap before the Leblanc trauma dump on 8/28—interesting, since this mostly overlaps with Futaba's Palace. Which Akechi doesn't know about, so it looks like they've vanished as planned.
So they have a lot going on in July even apart from the confidant. But in August, in the summer, they're out of each other's hair, until he comes back for 8/28 and confidant 6. What's going on? Is this actually a longer disconnect of three months after confidant 5, broken up by setting up the Okumura plot? Does he think Joker gave up as he predicted, when faced with a difficult opponent like Medjed? (disappointing) Is it something else entirely? Or does he just have a busy August?
@pugs-cats-bb-8 mentions in their tags that September and October are Akechi's worst months for availability, which corresponds with his vanishing from the plot for those two months as shit falls apart. If August, by contrast, really is the best time to find him, it suggests he's not intentionally avoiding you then so much as the plot is just not throwing you together.
It looks like, in theory, confidant stages 2-5 are meant to be done by the end of July, when the game schedules a lot of other social stuff for you.
here's the calendar
June
M T W T F S S
06 07 08 09 ! 11 12
* 14 15 16 17 18 19
20 21 x * 24 x 26
27 28 * 30
July
M T W T F S S
01 x 03
04 05 * 07 08 x 10
11 *
x—days when Akechi texts you to hang out.
*—days when you can find Akechi in Kichijoji, but no text.
!—the TV studio. Confidant 1.
Days when the game will always stop you doing anything in the evening (and so you could never meet anyone) are struck out.
Days in red are days he didn't appear in this replay (where I nailed all the dates), but did appear in my real, current playthrough (where I'm about a week behind). Note that 7/9 itself is one of these days—if you get confidant 5 on 7/2, he will not then face you on 7/9 after his tantrum.
Here's a summary list of events:
6/10 Friday—the TV studio. Confidant 1.
6/13 Monday—available in Kichijoji. Confidant 2.
6/22 Wednesday—he texts you in the evening. Confidant 3.
6/23 Thursday—available in Kichijoji. (no rank up)
6/25 Saturday—he texts you in the evening. Confidant 4.
6/29 Wednesday—available in Kichijoji. (no rank up)
7/2 Saturday—he texts you in the evening. Confidant 5.
7/6 Wednesday—available in Kichijoji. (but not if rank 5)
7/9 Saturday—he texts you in the evening. (but not if rank 5)
7/12 Tuesday—available in Kichijoji. (but not if rank 5)
also, we dreamed of him
Also, playing back to check certain days I missed to voluntary Metaverse activity, I found out you can go to bed early and have a dream that raises your stats or your confidants! So that's worth knowing. If you got this far down, here are some entertaining dreams.
"I dreamed that I was being chased by a gigantic Akechi... I'm glad that was just a dream."
"I dreamed that Akechi and I went to the beach, but the waves washed away my swimming trunks... I'm glad that was just a dream."
"I had a dream where I was in a quiet café, asking Akechi for advice... I feel a little closer to Akechi."
I think you may have a better chance of getting "good dreams" if you are ranked higher with the confidant.
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LET'S Talk about SNAKE!!
**Here's your spoiler warning. So don't read on if you aren't caught up on the manga to the point of Snake's history in Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler. **
We finally get a glimpse into Snake's history and there is a little clue hidden in it that this is probably the real end of the line for the Phantomhive Footman. So the first has fallen and is a precursor of all that is to come as promised by the throne Ciel sat upon that rested on a hill of bodies so long ago.
So if you happen to go digging into Snake's background, the manga mentions that his mother was Sarah Kemble. This wasn't a throw-away name. Looking it up, Sarah Kemble was the maiden name of the actress Sarah Siddons. (When you see née before a surname/last name, it means it was the name before marriage.)
So if you happen to go digging into Snake's background, the manga mentions that his mother was Sarah Kemble. This wasn't a throw-away name. Looking it up, Sarah Kemble was the maiden name of the actress Sarah Siddons. (When you see née that indicates the name before marriage.) She was a real person who lived from July 5, 1755 to June 8, 1831.
The clue was in her acting specialty: tragedies. She was specifically called a tragedienne, and known as "tragedy personified". Obviously, Kuroshitsuji has been playing fast and loose with timelines already. Charles Phipps (December 10, 1753 - October 20, 1786) and Charles Grey (March 13, 1764 - July 17, 1845) had a good 11 year gap between them, so make unlikely peers. So it shouldn't be assumed that Snake is actually from the 1700's.
However, as his mother was chosen for being the embodiment of tragedy, Snake's story is to show how sometimes people die without getting to answer the big questions in their life. Moreover, his life being the height of tragedy also means we aren't likely to see him turned into a Bizarre Doll. Earlier he and Finny were rejected as having something off in their blood. Finny's is from the experimentation done on him. Snake's is from whatever illness or genetic deviation that gave him his scales. Even if Undertaker or an underling with the knowledge of how to convert a person into a Bizarre Doll were on hand to try to "save" him, those differences would probably cause the effort to fail. Again, hinted at by the rejection of his blood type as well as the descriptor given of his mother. So we shall be left wanting Snake to know the great "Why's" but not getting to see him learn the answers.
Although I would be deeply interested in seeing a chapter dedicated to his judgement and Afterlife options. We haven't really seen the angelic side of the series make an appearance yet. Ash/Angela from the anime have been replaced by the two Charles. It would be interesting in seeing what the Heavenly Host are like here or even a bidding war for Snake's soul based on his goodness of character and his misdeeds done on behalf of his "family".
My apologies on how late this analysis has taken. It's been hard to have the energy and time in the same place to work on this, but I've been excited about it since the chapter dropped.
Thoughts?
@abybweisse @tirnelsutcliff
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2022 AO3 Stats - Vox Machina & Mighty Nein
(for previous stats check out my ao3 stats tag - most relevant are my end of c2 m9 ship stats)
Behold! The top ships! Marvel at the tangle of lines! These are in 3-month intervals to keep it at least somewhat legible, and I'm sorry to say that you'll probably need to really zoom in to make sense of it, so I can't do a full text description. I will point out where they break 200 fics, however - Perc'ahlia at the end of 2016, Widomauk in mid-2018 (following Molly's death), Shadowgast and Beaujester in early 2019 (with the Essek reveal), Beauyasha from October 2020 through June 2021 (canon, end of Campaign) and Shadowgast from April 2021 to end of 2022, and Laudna/Imogen from July to December 2022 (following Laudna's death).
Additionally: the only C1 ship to be in the top 5 ships while C2 aired was Perc'ahlia, and it only reached it occasionally; throughout C3 Shadowgast has yet to drop below 2, and both Perc'ahlia and Beauyasha have consistently been in the top 5.
Looking closer at each campaign below the cut!
These charts are also in 3-month intervals, to at least try and pretend they're legible. Initial work was done in 2020, so fics deleted before that aren't included, but fics deleted after that may be (depending on how big a time gap there was between posting and deleted). Because of that, these aren't 1:1 with what you'll see on ao3 today but are very close.
Vox Machina
Overall, the Top 10 ships are:
Perc'ahlia
Vaxleth
Vax/Gilmore
Perc'ildan
Pikelan
Vexleth
Keyleth/Vax/Gilmore
Zahra/Vex
Polymachina
Grog/Vax (tie)
Percy/Pike (tie)
Grog Strongjaw
So, the fewer the fics, the messier the chart. Grog doesn't really have a clear dominant ship. The two that stand out are Grog/Vax, which is prevelant from late 2016 to the end of C1, and Grog/Keyleth, which picks up steam and is the dominant post-C1 ship. Altoug, interestingly enough, Grog/Keyleth has fallen out of the way since end of 2020, leaving Grog/Vax to be dominant in 2022. The only other fic to get more than 2 fics is a single Grog/Pike peak in late 2016.
Keyleth
Vaxleth is the big boy here - spiking to 52 from July 2016 to March 2017 (yes, there were three 52s in a row) and 73 in January 2022 as Legend of Vox Machina came out. It was up and down but overall pretty consistent and has never not been Keyleth's top ship.
...althtough Vexleth comes close, only one fic shy in April-June 2022, reaching an all time high post LoVM. Other than that, its been the constant number two - Pikeleth beating it by 1 fic in April-Jun 2017 as the exception that proves the rule. Percleth and Pikeleth are strong during C1 but drop off after; Grogleth is the main pos-C1 but all of them fall to the side aftertheir late 2020 peak, with only Percleth seeing a very small LoVM resurgence.
Percival de Rolo
Perc'ahlia breaks the axis with 182, 256, and 138 fics from July 2016 - March 2017 and a 120 fic LoVM resurgence in early 2022. It had a later start than Vaxleth but quickly outshown it, and has been in and out but fairly constant during C2. The combo of C3 cameos & LoVM has kept it at it's C1 highs and that's only expected to continue once S2 drops.
Perc'ildan is the constant number 2, save for a small peak of Percy/Tary following his introduction in 2017 and Percy/Pike beating out with 5 fics to Perc'ildan and Percleth's 4 in late 2020; nothing else breaks 5,
Pike Trickfoot
So, during C1 things were a bit of a mix. Pikelan started strong, but Percy/Pike is the top in July-September 2016, and Pike/Vex and Pke/Keyleth for Femslash February 2017. However, Percy's the only one of these to really have much to show post-C1.
Pikelan is highest at the end of C1, and then is pretty constant. It did see a spike for LoVM, but not a very significant one.
Scanlan Shorthalt
Pikelan dominates and always has with a Vaxlan exception for the end of C1 / The Wish. Everything else is in the minor leagues - Vaxlan has a showing, the rest are only 1-2 fics and hard to interpret.
Vax'ildan
Vaxleth is the big boy here - spiking to 52 from July 2016 to March 2017 (yes, there were three 52s in a row) and 73 in January 2022 with LoVM. However, unlike Keyleth, Vax is way more even - Vaxmore beats out Vaxleth in late 2020, and Perc'ildan in April-June 2022. Vaxmore was prety constant, dropping only slightly post-C1; Perc'ildan had a mre significant drop, but then a more signficant LoVM resurgence.
Vax/Grog and Vax/Scanlan are pretty comparable; Vax/Scanlan peaks in late 2017 with the Vecna stuff, but Vax/Grog is the bigger ship post-C1. Both still only broke above 5 for the end of C1.
Vex'ahlia
Perc'ahlia breaks the axis with 182, 256, and 138 fics from July 2016 - March 2017 and a 120 fic LoVM resurgence in early 2022. Same as Percy, there's only one other ship of note - Vexleth, which hits a high following LoVM but never breaks 25.
Pike/Vex hits a Femslash February high in 2017, as does Zahra/Vex (which is at Vexleth levels for 2016) but everything else is dead quiet.
Taryon Darrington
Unsurprisingly, Tary's pretty quiet. Post-introduction there's a Percy/Tary high; after that, there are occasional Percy/Tary and Tary/Lawrence fics, but oly in the 1-2 range.
Mighty Nein
Overall the top 10 ships are
Shadowgast
Beauyasha
Widomauk
Widojest
Beaujester
Fjorester
Widofjord
Fjorclay
Clayleb
**Blumentrio**
Widobrave
Fjord
So, Widofjord started out the top ship, and stayed that way through early 2019 before slowly dropping to the wayside. Fjorclay took over after that and has one of the sharpest declines ever, currently sitting at like 2/year. Fjorester, always a top but secondary ship, bursts up to a 160 peak with the end of C2 and them being canon, falling back down to average levels albeit the top ship. Fjorester gets a small bump for the M9 Reunion.
Also notable: Fjolly starts strong but fades out following Molly's death; there's a peak in Avantika/Fjord during the pirate arc that trails off, and we have two Fjord/Nott peaks in late 2019 and early 2021 coinciding with peak Nott bullying Fjord moments.
Beauregard Lionett
Beauyasha is the top ship, with a peak of 343 in the end of C2. Beaujester takes over during 2019 following the Zuala reveal and Beau revealing her crush on Jester, but falls off during the Hiatus as Beauyasha become canon. The Ot3 is really the only secondary ship, aside from a tny peak of Beau/Keg after they fucked - there's no similar Beau/Reani peak.
Caleb Widogast
Widomauk dominates in 2018, htting a high with Molly's death, and then slowly but steadily declines after that. Widojest makes a valiiant attempt in 2019, and is pretty strong during tthe hiatus, but Shadowgast over takes, with its first peak in early 2020 with the Treason Reveal, and then a 677 fic peak for the end of C2 (the highest of Any Ship Ever).
Widofjord was the second ship but fell off after Essek's introduction; Clayleb was briefly popular in early 2019 but fell off as Fjorclay grew. Widobrave gets an alltime high with Veth getting her body back in early 2020, and is at simlar levels with Widofjord for the rest of C2, but falls off more sharply after. Blumentrio is similarly low but gets peaks in 2019 with the Scourger introduction and at the end of C2 with the Eiselcross arc, and has been pretty constant after.
Nott / Veth Brenatto
Nott/Yeza is the big ship with its high point following Yeza's introduction/rescue, and stays a pretty constant ship. Widobrave takes over with the ritual to get Veth's body back, and they're close for 2020 but Widobrave falls off faster, and doesn't get a resurgence with M9 Reunited as Nott/Yeza did.
Other than that....there's some Nott/Jester in late 2018, some Nott/Cad in early 2019 I think was just one person, and Fjord/Nott, which peaks in late 2019 and early 2021 with peak Nott Bullying Fjord moments. post C2, it is the only other Nott ship. Like. At all.
Jester Lavorre
Fjorester starts out at the top, but slowly declines through 2019 until the Eiselcross arc and end of C2-canon. Even then, it never its the highs Beaujester or Widojest do as they battle for dominance in 2019/2020. Both have fallen down to be closer to the levels seen by Jolly, Yashter, and the Beauyashter ot3.
Mollymauk Tealeaf
Widomauk. It exists. Widofjord used to exist. It doesn't, anymore. A few people wrote Jolly, and that's not really a thing. You can start to see people writing Molly/Essek. They're doing so because Shadowgast is popular, although the ot3 tag isn't super prevelant/comparable.
More seriously, you can see a peak following Lucien's return but it then drops off with no real end of C2 spike because...well, Kingsley. Hard to say whether it's hit a constant or if it'll continue to decline.
Yasha Nydoorin
Beauyasha had it's heyday in post-Hiatus C2. It's since dropped back to early levels, still far and away the top Yasha ship. Yashter & the Beauyashter ot3 are the only others that really compare, save a small Zuala peak after the backstory reveal that gets occasional fics. Even these have fallen to the wayside post-C2. Only Beauyasha remains.
Caduceus Clay
So, with Caduceus, he's the replacement for Widomauk in late 2018 to early 2019, before Fjorclay takes the stand, with a 120 fic peak during the 2020 hiatus. It then immediately falls down to nothing, as does the brief fling with Cadwulf, since Taliesin went on Talks and confirmed that Caduceus was Asexual. Since then...things have been pretty quiet, never getting a full 0 ship fics, but also never getting more than 5.
Kingsley Tealeaf
So, in the immediate post C2, we see some Caleb/Kingsley, comparable to Widomauk, with some Essek/Kingsley because ot3.
Fjord/Kingsley is perfectly hidden behind Jester/Kingsely, as their distribution is identical: because it's actually Fjord/Jester/Kingsley, which is actually the #2 ship.
#ao3 stats#cr stats#cr meta#vox machina#mighty nein#percahlia#vaxleth#shadowgast#beauyasha#widomauk#fjorester
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Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door for Switch launches May 23 - Gematsu
From Gematsu
Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door will launch for Switch on May 23, Nintendo announced.
The turn-based RPG first launched for GameCube on July 22, 2004 in Japan, followed by October 11, 2004 in North America and November 12, 2004 in Europe.
The Switch version adds revamped graphics and “a suite” of additional changes that make the game easier to enjoy.
Here is an overview of the game, via Nintendo.com:
Join Mario on an Epic Paper-adventure to Collect the Crystal Stars Before the X-nauts Do!
The nefarious X-Nauts are after the treasure behind the Thousand-Year Door! With a map from Princess Peach, and the help of a few locals, Mario journeys through a colorful world made of paper to find them first. To prevail in this quest, you’ll have to level up Mario and his friends, master timing-based attacks and badges to impress the audience on the stage of combat, and make use of all the abilities that come with being cursed—er, conveniently made of paper—like folding into a plane to cross big gaps or turning sideways to slip through narrow openings.
Leaf Through a Storybook World With Charming Characters in Every Fold
Surprises abound in this deep and engaging tale, where everyone’s got something to say and it’s often not what you’d expect. Mario will meet all kinds of interesting folks on his journey, like the upbeat and studious Goombella and the shy but determined Koops. Some of these characters will need your help with their own quests, or even join your party. Others, like Peach and Bowser, have stories of their own that you’ll play between Mario’s chapters!
A Classic Turns the Page, Bringing Fresh Visuals and Updated Features
Twenty years after the original game on the Nintendo GameCube system, this version for the Nintendo Switch system has revamped graphics, and a suite of additional changes that make the game easier than ever to enjoy.
Watch the MAR10 Day 2024 announcement video below.
MAR10 Day 2024
English
youtube
Japanese
youtube
#Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door#Paper Mario#Super Mario Bros.#Nintendo#Nintendo Switch#RPG#Gematsu#Youtube
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This year’s ao3 stats:
42,258 words published
25 new fics posted
8 fics updated
368 kudos received from new fics
40 comments received
Favorite work this year: tie between Magic Catboy Len-Len and Apple Cinnamon & Earl Grey
I’d say this was a pretty good year I guess (first time actually looking at it this way). Not a big fan of the march-may gap or the July-October gap, nor do I like how I’ve left several fics to rot, but I want to change that next year (I keep saying this but I’m being serious)!
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Standard has never had evenly spaced set releases. Set 1 of standard would come out end of September/start of October with set 2 being 4 months out at the end of January. Meanwhile set 4 of standard would come out just 2.5 months before set 1 of the next mid July back to end of September/start of October. That big gap was just moved to be between standard rotation so cards get a bit of extra time legal in standard.
FYI
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How come November and October are so close together, in my world OCTOBER is pale pastel indigo hydrangeas against a lightly foggy sky and warm sun softly conversing with the lichens and mossy rocks while a creek runs quietly alongside the blue gums. NOVEMBER is when you drive out to your uncle’s place and have a bonfire to burn excess wood, and along the way you see sunflowers against a crisply burnt evening sky before reaching the gravel driveway lined with pepper trees.
Notice how October is mostly blues and November is orange? And how the breeze simply drifts by in October, but in November the air is cold and still? And how October is during the DAY, but November is at NIGHT? Notice how they aren’t remotely similar or close in personality, and are, in fact, opposites? They should have August in between October and November, because a) August is ALSO misplaced and should be moved somewhere less cold so the evergreen magnolias can be part of it’s moodboard, and b) if October and November were neighbours (as they are in the calendar) they would argue constantly because of their differences. Sadly I don’t think this is the sort of thing where they could do a cute enemies-to-lovers thing either - October would go to bed too early to join in on the nighttime fun that November likes, and November’s lunch breaks don’t align with October’s lunch breaks so they wouldn’t be able to do much during the day. Then on weekends October has volleyball and will be too busy reading in the kitchen to go outside and interact with November, and November sleeps in really late so they won’t see eachother in the morning either. Their only significant interactions would be when they hear eachother’s music blaring early in the morning or late at night and get angry, which isn’t a very good relationship to have, and is why they shouldn’t be neighbours in the calendar.
However, to replace August, we’d need another month added since July and September would most likely have too big of an age gap and language barrier to get along, and would start to have the same problems as October and November. Which is where I present Carluary, or Carl for short. Carl uses too much olive oil in cooking and claims it’s “healthy” because it has olives in it. Carluary also has the vibes of a 26 year old, so it will have only 26 days. In Carluary, all elementary school children and their parents will get the third Wednesday of the month off from school/work to spend time together as part of International Grassleaf Day - a day dedicated to spending more time with your children that is commonly associated with a day at the park. December can be renamed to Tredecember because it’s the 13th month now and should have been changed a while ago.
So yeah! That’s my random thoughts on months. Reblog if you agree that November and October sound too different to be next to eachother in the calendar, and if you have something to add then go right ahead. Thank you for reading and eat your cherries.
#tfw it takes an hour to write a single sentence for an assessment task#but it takes only 20 minutes to get mad about months and write an essay#and also invent a new month#sandy speaks#rambling#months#September x Carluary for life
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Top generative AI and computer vision events to attend in 2024
New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/top-generative-ai-and-computer-vision-events-to-attend-in-2024/
Top generative AI and computer vision events to attend in 2024
In 2024, we’re keeping up the momentum by bringing you 16 in-person events!
Open up your calendar and save the dates, because this year will be a busy and exciting one for generative AI, computer vision, AICXO, and more.
We’ll be going on a world tour with plenty of events you can choose from.
April
AICXO Summit | San Jose 🇺🇸
When: April 16
Where: San Jose Marriott, 301 South Market Street
We’re kicking off our in-person events in 2024 by going back to San Jose!
One of four co-located Summits, the AICXO Summit brings together top executives, ranging from emerging Chief AI Officers to seasoned Chief Data Officers, to optimize strategies and enhance value as they progress toward production and scaling.
Featuring insights from leading C-suite executives in AI, this Summit aims to align tech industry leaders to refine these methodologies.
Check out all the details below. 👇
Computer Vision Summit | San Jose 🇺🇸
When: April 16-17
Where: San Jose Marriott, 301 South Market Street
Join us at the Computer Vision Summit to connect research and practical implementation. The event provides an in-depth exploration of the most remarkable developments in computer vision.
With 25+ speakers from companies like eBay, Estée Lauder, Oculus VR, and more, you’ll discover the latest engineering achievements in applied computer vision, covering areas like synthetic data, addressing real-time latency issues, and using transformers in computer vision.
Get your tickets below. 👇
Generative AI Summit | San Jose 🇺🇸
When: April 16-17
Where: San Jose Marriott, 301 South Market Street
Highlighting the best-in-class generative systems, the event showcases the potential in the rapidly evolving field of advanced generative AI.
Join a diverse group of professionals – engineers, operations teams, researchers, and executives – for a two-day event focused on fast-tracking the most sophisticated generative systems into production.
Interested? Buy your tickets today! 👇🎟️
AI Accelerator Summit | San Jose 🇺🇸
When: April 16-17
Where: San Jose Marriott, 301 South Market Street
Looking to elevate AI deployment with high-performance, economically efficient hardware solutions?
Enhance your applications by merging state-of-the-art AI with potent, energy-saving, and cost-effective computational power.
Address the significant shift in computing that the tech industry faces, where the need for power surges in parallel with continuous innovation.
Get your tickets today! 👇
June
Generative AI Summit | New York 🇺🇸🗽
When: June 12
Where: TBD
Touching down in the Big Apple for the first time, our Generative AI Summit will bring together 25+ speakers and 250+ attendees.
With companies like the BBC, Hugging Face, Synthesia, and more, you’ll learn how to engineer stronger models and affordable full-stack infrastructure solutions.
Network with like-minded professionals who’ll help you accelerate your systems to the production line.
Get all the info – and your tickets! – below. 👇
July
Generative AI Summit | Austin 🇺🇸🤠
When: July 10
Where: TBD
Visiting Austin for the first time, the Generative AI Summit will bring together pioneering engineers and business leaders who are behind the latest tech developments with generative systems.
If you’re looking for tips like how to power GANs and VAEs with state-of-the-art computers for quick output, then this event is for you.
More details coming soon, so keep an eye out below. 👇
October
AICXO Summit | Berlin 🇩🇪
When: October, 2
Where: TBD
We’ll be back in Berlin again this year with not one but three co-located summits!
Our first part of the EMEA section of the tour starts with our AICXO Summit, bridging the gap between cutting-edge research and value-driving applications for engineering teams and AI executives.
Join forces with your industry ecosystem and be a central part of a technology showcase that highlights hundreds of groundbreaking use cases, along with the cost-effective, high-tech solutions that enable them.
Keep your eyes peeled below for more information. 👇
Computer Vision Summit | Berlin 🇩🇪
When: October, 2
Where: TBD
Designed to offer a dynamic blend of keynotes, roundtables, panels, collaboration, and discussions, you’ll gain insights from your peers in the field of computer vision.
Our lineup of expert speakers was carefully chosen to ignite your enthusiasm and provide you with valuable knowledge in computer vision technology and applications. You’ll leave with actionable insights and strategies to bring back to your teams and projects.
Stay tuned for all the latest updates and details below! 👇
Generative AI Summit | Berlin 🇩🇪
When: October, 2
Where: TBD
Our third Summit in Berlin, the Generative AI event will gather artificial intelligence experts in the region to share their success stories, experiences, innovative ideas, and challenges.
With over 300 attendees, you’re sure to find like-minded peers to network with! And with panels, presentations, and more, you’ll have the chance to learn from pioneering generative AI experts.
More details will be shared soon, so keep an eye out! 👇
AICXO Summit | Boston 🇺🇸⚾️
When: October, 16
Where: TBD
Our last AICXO Summit of the year ends in Boston, where you’ll get the chance to attend a collection of can’t-miss presentations, workshops, panels, and more! With hundreds of attendees on location, networking has never been easier.
Stay tuned for the details below. 👇
Generative AI Summit | Boston 🇺🇸⚾️
When: October, 16-17
Where: TBD
After a quick summer break, we’ll be bringing generative AI experts to Boston again, where they’ll share proven strategies to help you get ahead of the competition.
If you’re looking for ways to converge the latest generative AI technology with practical solutions, then this event is for you.
Get your tickets and all the information you need below (coming soon!). 👇
Computer Vision Summit | Boston 🇺🇸⚾️
When: October, 16-17
Where: TBD
Bringing computer vision use cases from the biggest companies in the world, the Computer Vision Summit will touch down in Boston again!
Looking for the latest strategies and innovations in computer vision? Then this event is for you.
More details coming very soon, so keep an eye out below. 👇
AI Accelerator Summit | Boston 🇺🇸⚾️
When: October, 17
Where: TBD
The last AI Accelerator Summit of 2024 will showcase both cost-effective solutions and hardware innovations that’ll help you accelerate your career.
We’ll bring together dozens of speakers and hundreds of attendees in the same room, so you’ll easily network with your peers.
Want to know more? All details will be updated below! 👇
November
Generative AI Summit | London 🇬🇧
When: November, 7
Where: TBD
Our European trip ends in London, where we’ll bring together industry leaders to share their proven strategies in generative AI – so you can get ahead of the competition.
Over 100 attendees are expected to soak in a wealth of information and knowledge from dozens of speakers from the biggest organizations around the world. You don’t want to miss it!
All the info you need will be updated below. Keep an eye out. 👇
Computer Vision Summit | London 🇬🇧
When: November, 7
Where: TBD
We wrap up our computer vision Summits for 2024 in London, where hundreds of attendees will network with industry experts, learning the latest technologies and advancements in the industry.
Whether it’s a panel or a presentation, you’ll be in the right place to get the tools you need to accelerate your computer vision career.
The line-up and all the other details will be announced soon. Stay tuned! 👇
December
Generative AI Summit | Toronto 🇨🇦
When: December, 4
Where: TBD
Our final event of 2024 brings us back to North America and the fantastic city of Toronto.
Join us and wrap up your year by sharing generative AI knowledge with your peers at our Summit, alongside taking in all the amazing insights and networking opportunities.
Details coming soon, so keep an eye out for more info. 👇
Grab the flyer:
We’ve rounded up all dates and locations in one handy place. Just download or screenshot the image below and look over the 16 events we have for you this year!
Missed an event and want to catch up?
No worries, our AI Accelerator Institute membership plan gives you full access to all events – OnDemand.
You’ll see both our in-person and virtual events, meaning you get hundreds of hours of insights.
Fancy a sneak peek?
Check out this session from Generative AI Summit Berlin 2023, with Andreas Braun, Former Chief Technology Officer at Microsoft: Delivering on promise: entering a new era of technology, free-to-view.
#2023#2024#250#ai#amazing#America#apple#applications#Art#artificial#Artificial Intelligence#berlin#Business#C-suite#Calendar#career#Collaboration#Companies#computer#Computer vision#computers#computing#continuous#cutting#data#dates#december#deployment#details#Developments
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self-reflect
this is not a rant
So I'm going to try to reflect on the lowest period of my life - end of 2019 to spring 2022.
The only way I can remember it is with what phases I went through like for example October and November 2019 I was obsessed with Avril Lavigne, December I was obsessed with Star Wars... I felt really down but don't really remember why. I'm pretty sure it was seasonal depression though
We going into 2020... God. First two months I was still obsessed with Star Wars and then Shameless but then quarantine started in march. I was 14 btw. Anyways .. I was living with my dad at our cottage which is in the countryside since in our apartment there wasn't enough space for me and my brother to study online. I had my own room at the cottage so it was perfect and I felt really free. I was obsessed with Harry Potter and 5sos and whatnot OHHH and Doja cat. Summer 2020 I went to the national round of the English Olympiad in my country and it was kind of exciting except there was covid and we didn't go to another town ... But it was okay. I think that was the last major competition I ever went to, I just didn't have the energy since then. Also summer 2020 I started anime LMAO. My first ever anime was orange❤️❤️❤️ it still has a special place in my heart and I watched it one night and it was 5th of July idk why I remember it. Anyways I had a very major phase with black clover and that's what I connect summer 2020 with. Except that I was almost every day third-wheeling but still going outside because I just couldn't say no to my friend (she's toxic btw and we're not friends anymore) when she called me to go outside with her fucking boyfriend. Keep in mind she was 14 and her bf was 20 at the time... We not gonna talk about that lol it's not my life anyway but she was Hella groomed and she had nothing against it, she was actively encouraging this kind of age gap in relationships .... Its not like she was suffering. Anyways. We going into September 2020. What I connect it to is my big phase with Naruto and then I watched fullmetal alchemist and then november-ish I watched death note but like in September we started school right and the separation between me and my friends started to feel real, although I kept contact w them throughout spring and summer 2020. Then we went back online in October-ish if I remember correctly. That's when it really started to feel bad but not really. That's actually when I downloaded discord and the reason was that when I was reading fanfics on wattpad I saw one of the authors I followed link to their discord server and I was like ok I'll join it! Met some ppl there but I'm not talking to them anymore but I was addicted to mudae 💀. Winter 2020 I connect to meeting a certain individual called David (he was 23 at the time and I was 15) and I fell in love with him but then I was ranting about it to my online friends in that server and they were like girl you're not normal HES 23. that's when I realized that age gap wasn't normal. Yeah anyways.... I also connect winter 2020 with haikyuu and Yuri on ice.
We going into 2021.. worst year fr. Started off with my jojo phase, and then MY AOT PHASE. I swear if I hadn't watched aot so many things wouldn't have happened. I joined a certain server and met so many of my current online friends and we've been friends for almost two years. They helped me ALOT throughout this period! Honestly I started drift off my irl friends and NOT because of my online ones but because of another reason.
Guess I should explain my whole relationship w my friends, that's exactly why I wanted to do this self reflect thing. Now that I'm doing better I can do a whole summary and look at it more objectively. They all already had build a lot more connection among themselves than I did with them even before I met my online friends. They were texting me at some point asking why I'm not texting them but they always made me feel like I was OBLIGED to do it and made themselves the victims and not actually considering the event in which MAYBE I'm not feeling well. Actually I'm still baffled whether I felt bad or not. I feel like the only thing keeping me alive was consuming media just to feel something. While sometimes I was feeling great there was always something missing you know? I knew I was isolating myself from everyone but I was rarely feeling bad about it until one point when I started feeling lonely. Before I didn't feel that way... Until like start of 2021 I didn't feel lonely at all. I felt almost free tbh. I felt like there wasn't school and I was in my own bubble "paradise" in which I was reading, drawing, watching shows, movies, anime etc. Man idk anymore. Then I met my online friends and I was sometimes talking to my irl friends about online ones and that was such a big mistake. It turned to the point when my friends would insult those people even without knowing them, just because they felt replaced or something??? You werent there, Emily. I'm quoting her: "If you keep talking to them, you're gonna lose all your REAL friends"
Yes I'm still holding a grudge about that. She wasn't there for me not even once and you expect me not to find a way to fill the void?? And when this solution worked for me at the time? I didn't have to look good to be friends with them. My past didn't matter, my anxiety didn't matter. We bonded over games, memes, shows, anime like??? Exactly what my existence was all about, the consumed media that we had in common was what bonded us, and we were doing fun things, like karaoke nights, dubbing over anime scenes, sharing funny stories from our lives, learning about each other and the fact that we were (are) living in different countries and could talk different languages was interesting. I learned a lot about different cultures/religions, I even fasted during Ramadan 😮. Anyways. One of my friends always said this:
Translation: "I'm surprised that you've ever went outside and not being on discord 🙃"
"I'm even more surprised you opened that message instead of being on discord 🙃"
Out of every possible way to approach this situation, in his place I would never say this. By the age of 15 aren't you supposed to be able to feel sympathy? Not even empathy, sympathy. Someone could've asked if something is going on and I would respond normally and I wouldn't feel so bad but this is not encouraging in ANY WAY, like no this is not encouraging me to go outside and hang out with you???? What were you trying to achieve??? And if I bring up this this to the person rn he wouldn't even feel bad. Explain to me how this is right lmao I'm not going crazy right??? He's wrong right???? I'm not all bad right????
Because that's exactly how I felt, I felt like it was all my fault. I didn't even vent to anyone irl, I realized I shouldn't burden anyone with my own problems (family) but exactly cz they didn't know anything they were assuming I just did that on my own whim, because I felt like it. No? But no one really asked what happened. That's why you don't know 🤦🤦 and now it's too late, I don't need comfort now. The real reason I felt so bad was my own thoughts, my own brain. If someone had told me that the battle within myself should be won by ME and me only, if no one could actually help, it would've kind of been different. If actually realized it.
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Hollywood actors' unions accuses studios of 'bullying tactics' as talks break down | Ents & Arts News
Hollywood Strike Talks Hit a Wall
Hollywood stars and studios are in a big showdown, and it's not a movie plot. The actors' union is calling out the studios, saying they're using "bullying tactics" as talks to end a three-month strike went down the drain on Wednesday.
What's Happening?
Here's the deal: Studios, streaming services, and production companies, all grouped under the fancy name of Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP), made a big announcement. They said, "We're taking a break from talking." They claimed that the gap between what they want and what the actors want is too wide, so they're hitting the pause button on the negotiations. This comes even though they offered a deal similar to what got the writers' strike to end.
The Actors' Side of the Story
But, here's where the plot thickens. The Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (SAG-AFTRA) said, "Hold up! They're telling tales." They think the studios are way off in how they're describing their offer.
The Timeline
The talks started on October 2nd. That was the first time they sat down for a chat since the strike began back in the middle of July. Compare that to the writers' strike, which wrapped up just five days after they started talking.
No More Chit-Chat
So, the AMPTP said, "We're done talking. The gap is too wide, and we're not getting anywhere." That's what they put out in an official statement.
The Money Stuff
The actors' proposal, according to the studios, would cost these companies an extra $800 million (£655 million) every year. They said it's like a big, heavy economic backpack they can't carry.
The Counterclaim
But, the actors' union says the studios got it all wrong. They think that the cost estimate is way too high, inflated by a whopping 60%. They're really disappointed that the studios decided to call it quits.
So, that's where we stand. Hollywood's biggest names and the big studios are at an impasse, and it's not clear when they'll get back to talking. We'll have to keep an eye on how this blockbuster negotiation unfolds. 🎬
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His career was a tour de force! He was born Wilton Norman Chamberlain on August 21, 1936 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Biography reports. Widely regarded as one of the greatest basketball players to ever live, like many celebrities, Chamberlain is as big a myth as he was a man. Attending Overbrook High School in Philly, he got his start on the varsity team and scored more than 2,000 points! Clocking in at 6’11”, he physically and mentally dominated other teen players on the court, with many of his nicknames coming from his overpowering stature. Names like “The Big Dipper” sit well with Chamberlain, but there were others he hated like “Wilt the Stilt,” a name given to him by a local reporter covering high school games. At his full height, Chamberlain reached a whopping 7’1” tall, and he was recruited heavily by several top colleges. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Wilt Chamberlain (@wiltchamberlainofficial) In 1956, he made his college basketball debut, playing for the University of Kansas, subsequently leading the team to the NCAA finals in 1957. While the team lost that game, Chamberlain was named “Most Outstanding Player” of the tournament, making the all-American and all-conference teams the next season. He had a gap year between college and the NBA due to their offi...
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BA promptly ceded that $100 billion market cap level
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A (little) breakdown of Anne’s return & birthday dates
What do we know:
It’s been 5 months. (I am calculating this as 145 days: 29d. X 5, mostly because my conclusions thst she was gone around 5m. at the maximum was derived from recording and counting the phases of the moon shown in Season 1 and 2)
Anne has been back 1 week in Adventures in Catsitting
Anne has been back an indefinite number of weeks in Olivia and Yunan
Froggy Little Christmas likely takes place on 24 December (I’m basing this on gift-giving)
There’s more referential details; I’m too tired to list everything (I’m not here for super intense analytics)
@inktog Here’s my rough claucatuons & dates.
Reference notes: month = m. | days = d. | weeks = w.
Based on what I saw of the moons, S3a likely covers 2m., 1w., 3d.
This is based on a half moon (🌗) being roughly a week after a full moon (🌕 ) and Froggy Xmas has a definite waning crescent (🌘), meaning it’s a week+ after the third full moon since Anne’s been back. This rests in the assumption she returned on a full moon, hence why it’s 2m. — full moon#1 to full moon#2 = 1st “m.” & full moon#2 to full moon#3 = 2nd “m.”
Because this is so moon focused my numbers are moon based. That is 2m.1w.3d. = 68d. OR 29d + 29d. + 10(7+3)d.
68d. prior to 24 December = 17 October OR 17 Oct. + 14d. + 30d. (Nov.) + 24d. = 24 Dec.
145d. prior to 17 October = 25 May OR 25 May + 6d. + 30 (June) + 31 (July) + 31 (Aug.) + 30 (Sept.) + 17 = 17 Oct.
Sprig’s bday occurs soon after a half moon and it looks like a fat waning crescent (🌗🌘 << b/w that) which means it happens just over a month before 24 December OR 29d.2d. OR 31d., enough time for the waning crescent to actually thin out.
So...
25 May = Anne’s bday (25 May + 6d. + 30 + 31 + 31 + 30 + 17 = 17 Oct. || 06+30+31+31+30+17=145d.)
17 Oct. = return
24 Oct. = Catsitting
23 Nov. = Sprig’s bday (23 Nov + 7d. + 24d. = 24 Dec || 24+7=31d.)
It is very probable these are not as exact as someone else could make them. But it’s adequate for me.
Under the cut are old, old draft calculations before I actually checked Season 3a’s moon.
Now where it gets hazy is calculating just how many weeks Anne and the Plantars have been gone on Olivia and Yunan. It’s clearly been some time. My instinct is, at minimum, it’s been 5 weeks, more probable 6 weeks. (5 1/2 weeks or 39 days??)
Adventures in Catsitting is 3x03b and Olivia and Yunan is 3x07b, which puts 7 episodes (11 min.) or 3 episodes (22 min.) between them. I can’t imagine each 11 min. episode is a week apart but calculating 1 week between 2 min. episodes might make sense. (Not in a literal way, but ep. 3 occurs 1 week after the return. This is followed by ep. 4 (2 weeks after return), ep. 5 (3 weeks after return), ep. 6 (4 weeks after return). This ends on ep. 7 (5 weeks since return). All which falls roughly into my instinct of how much time has passed.
Should probably check and see what moon phrases have been visible in Season 3
So anyway, if we continue this cacluative method... we get Little Froggy Christmas at 7 weeks since return
25 Dec. minus 7 weeks = 6 Nov. as return date | 6 Nov. minus 145 days = 14 June birthday
Or if that, as I feel seems like too big of a gap than, Little Froggy Christmas at 6 weeks since return
25 Dec. minus 6 weeks = 13 Nov. as return date | 13 Nov. minus 145 days = 21 June birthday
Unlikely? Little Froggy Christmas at 5 weeks since return
25 Dec. minus 5 weeks = 20 Nov. as return date | 20 Nov. minus 145 days = 28 June birthday
#amphibia meta#amphibia analysis#amphibia#anne boonchuy#sprig plantar#amphibia season 3#amphibia season three#amphibia spoilers#wsd pedantic details#wsd pedantic brain#please excuse any mistakes#me and math can misstep but the generalness of it is I think fairly sound
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