#while the one in the green is trying to be an actor
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#more sims more sims yippiee#rylee is back with a new outfit#man on the top left is supposed to give off Gu-Won vibes from My Demon#the bottom two are brothers#do they speak anymore? not really.#the one in the red (oldest) is a dad#and has a bad gambling problem#while the one in the green is trying to be an actor#my sims#the sims 4#ts4#ts4 cas#create a sim#show us your sims#simblr
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𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
Feat: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Lilia
Bonus: Floyd, Jade, Jamil, Rook, Epel, Malleus
Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle’s face was almost as red as his hair, not out of anger but rather…
[Oh my gooodddd, stomp those tiny feet again, Riddle! Give me that pout~]
Really… should he do it again? Out of nowhere? Well, let’s take a walk to where you clicked then…
[Yaahhh!! So cuteeee!!!]
Well at least you didn’t think him badly for being angry out of nowhere… whoops, he wasn’t supposed to idle like that.
Ahh, why are you moving on to another character? Cater? That good for nothing? The naughty ADeuce duo? He's almost turning from red to green in envy!
Leona Kingscholar
Leona was supposed to be ticked to the brim but definitely not with you. His ears are red from your nonstop rambling while you keep on poking his avatar right on his ear.
[I wonder how it feels like to play with his ears, ah, maybe I should help you clean it too?]
Don’t. Twitch. Ears. Else the player might notice this and question this one new idle.
[Thinking back, I kinda wanna try stepping on his tail like Yuu too~]
Don’t. Swish. Tail. What? Is he a masochist or what? Well, if it’s for you then he wouldn’t mind it.
Wait wait, why are you checking out Ruggie and Jack now? Hey, what do you mean Ruggie has cuter ears and Jack has a fluffier tail? Why do they look so proud? Are they asking to be minced?
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul might break out of the avatar restraint now. You’ve been talking about how you want to squeeze the kid him, round and plump, you quoted.
Why did you find his past appearance adorable?
[Honestly, I kinda want to lift him and his hiding spot and boil him as a takoyaki filling]
Now that made Floyd and Jade snickered. Azul was internally panicking but his avatar did not show him breaking a single sweat.
[Or maybe gather all his ink whenever he cries]
For your pen?
[But I do think squeezing his plump octomer form is the best~ Oh well, he had lost all those baby fats]
And back to how you ramble about his round self again. This was supposed to be disheartening but why was he blushing?
Wait wait, don't look away from him, no! Why are you going to Floyd? And Jade too? He knew Floyd won your heart but allow him to worm into your heart at the very least. Please let one of his three hearts rest in you!
Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim was nodding non-stop at your ramblings, or should he say, wishes. He was really happy that you were taking him as your magic lamp!
[And then, I want you to lace my body with lots of glitters, made of gold!]
No hard task, he just had to grind all that gold into some sort of fairy dust for you!
[Oh! And I want to try swimming in a pool of golden coins like Uncle Scrooge! I wonder if it'll hurt and uncomfortable as I think...]
He was in the same boat with you. You'd have to be careful when diving into the pool! But you can try sleeping on it though you should be careful, just in case the coins swallow you whole!
[And a carpet ride every night~]
Roger that! Tell him more of your wish, will you?
Eh? Why do you stop wishing? No! He will guarantee you that he will make it all come true! Please do not doubt him! Ah... it's because you two are in a different dimension? Screw this barrier that separates you two then.
Vil Schoenheit
Yes, he knew he was unworthy of your praises but he couldn't help but enjoy bathing in it!
[Look at your hair... and that make-up! Wow... truly is the fairest one of all!]
Oh please, no matter how much you compliment him, he could never compete with you beauty-wise! You would always be the true fairest one of all!
[Aha! Look at those heels too, contribute a lot to your height, and make you look so pretty!]
Even a prominent actor like him can't cover his natural reaction which was the growing blush on his face!
Eh? Rook? What does he have to do with him? Too in love with his words more than the beauty in front of you right now? No no no, you must look at him only and no one else!
Idia Shroud
If anything, he was glad his hair did not turn pink! From the way you kept on poking his avatar and patting his head, it made his heart tickled. He was no longer stuttering because the system wanted him to, but because he himself was nervous!
[Oh, show me that one illustration... Kyaaa! Why must you be so cute biting on your sleeve??? It's so inviting!!!]
Ah? That one? He couldn't help but feel embarrassed as you zoomed into his face and examined his hair. Truly, this was too much for his heart!
[Oh oh, and your masquerade costume is so pretty! It makes you look so pretty ffs!]
Ah, it was pretty uncomfortable to wear but he's glad he didn't take it off, not like he can do that anyway. The system won't allow that after all.
Everything feels nice so why are you changing character now? Wait wait! Have you checked his other card? No no no, why is that little shortie fae here? Don't close on him, please! He might want to try hacking your phone soon!
Lilia Vanrouge
Oya? You'd like to dress him up? Kukuku, looks like green and pink would work well on him~
[And... I think we can try curling his long hair, can we change the hue from red to pink like a color wheel?]
...Curling his hair didn't sound bad. Maybe he should try it sometimes and see if it suited him.
[Oh! And I'm gonna hang him upside down like the bat he is! My cute little bat, let's fist-fight!]
You really are an enigma huh? One moment is a sweet and docile lamb then the next moment you are a bull. Hm? Malleus? Why talk about him so sudden? Didn't you say he is your number-one favorite from Diasomnia? So why are you looking at someone else now?
𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:
Floyd Leech
God of Shrimpy~ Keep on poking him, he loves it! Ah, you love his teeth? And his droopy eyes? And his laugh? Hehe, you really love everything about him huh?
So why do you even bother looking at the others? He's going to hug you tight for this silly!
Jade Leech
Ah, he is quite the gentleman, no? Hm? You'd like to keep him as your butler? Why that is quite the generous idea that you allow him to manage your daily life~
With a small dose of love potion in your daily tea every day, he's bound to have you in his arms soon, well, if he ever finds a way to pull you into this twisted wonderland.
Jamil Viper
It truly is an honor to be considered as someone reliable (from babysitting Kalim) and acknowledged as an attendant who could shield you from any danger, truly. He is ready to put his life in line for you so why?
Why are you saying that there's someone else who might fit the position as your attendant more than him? And that person being that slimy eel no less!
Rook Hunt
Ah! This is amazing! To be able to charm you with his words and let him worm into your heart is truly a blessing! Would you like him to write you a poem detailing your beauty?
No no, mon chèri, you shouldn't grace those who are unbefitting of it, don't you think it's a waste to spare the other your grace? Allow this hunter to save you from that trouble.
Epel Felmier
H-huh? You want to dress him up? Naturally, he hates being treated as a doll, a girl no less! But... the idea of you helping him dress and helping him with makeup... he can do this. It is your way of gracing him after all...
Huh? You want to dress Lilia up too? Why? Because he's cuter? Oh no, there's no way there's someone who is prettier than him, look at him, look at how pretty he is in this dress!
Malleus Draconia
If anything, he will always hear you compare him and Riddle to the 'Queen of Heart' and 'Maleficient' from your world. You will praise him for being able to stand on the same level as the actress' beauty which makes him feel giddy.
But boy is he sulking when you start rambling about Riddle and the big-headed Queen. You will dote on him and Riddle back and forth.
Can't you just dote on him?
#Yandere TWST#Yandere Twisted Wonderland#Yandere Riddle Rosehearts#Yandere Leona Kingscholar#Yandere Azul Ashengrotto#Yandere Kalm Al Asim#Yandere Vil Schoenheit#Yandere Idia Shroud#Yandere Lilia Vanrouge#Yandere Jade Leech#Yandere Floyd Leech#Yandere Jamil Viper#Yandere Rook Hunt#Yandere Epel Felmier#Yandere Malleus Draconia#Twisted Wonderland x Reader#Self Aware Twisted Wonderland#Self Aware TWST#TWST x Reader#x GN Reader
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Third Place Poll
Propaganda...
Colonel Brandon (1995):
Alan Rickman has the sexiest voice. Just listen to him reading poetry to Marianne at the end to witness how hot he is.
Alan Rickman simply embodies the truth of Col. Brandon in a way that no one else every could. It's the perfect merging of actor and role. He brings the perfect combination of honor, decency, sensitivity and passion. He is the ultimate mensch.
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Brandon propaganda in which even the film's director agrees that Brandon is sexy.
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More Brandon propaganda! This photo could only be published in black and white because it would have been too powerful in color (the original color version is currently being used to provide electricity for a medium sized town in Devon. It's THAT powerful).
The brim of the hat falling over his eye. The casual lean. The hunting rifle slung across his leg. The puppy bestie. The fact you know he could row that boat while you watch and wish you were the boat.
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From Emma Thompson's diaries which she kept while they were shooting Sense & Sensibility. Emma Thompson said vote Colonel Brandon.
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The man has just heard her sing for a minute and he’s positively awestruck!
also adding his adorable adorable smile just bc i can.
Mr Knightley (2009):
Johnny Lee Miller as Knightley is JUST SO. I mean the way he says "if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more" IS JUUUST. The dance scene. The tentative shy smiles. The fact you can see in his eyes the entire time " I am completely in love with this woman. She'll never love me back BUT I DO NOT CARE I'LL LOVE HER FROM A DISTANCE ANYWAY" IS JUUUUUUST
We need to appreciate Mr Knightley more for both his snark and for those soft eyes just so full of love for Emma
GIF by dearemma
I was just going to send in the actual dance but the little panic he has when Emma says she knows his secret is just soo charming. There was some thread on twitter a few years ago about how a romcom man's most important quality is knowing how to look at a woman and JLM is just the master of it in this Emma
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I really feel like the pictures say it all. He stands there, head tilted to one side. He is listening to you. His posture is relaxed. His gaze open, frank, candid. He's not trying at all. He just is.And that's why he is Knightley.
GIF by night-unfurls-its-splendour
Some propaganda, not just for Jonny Lee Miller, but the general interpretation of 09 Knightley. I have some excerpts here from my review of the 09 adaptation:
What I really think is great about the 2009 interpretation of Mr. Knightley is what an easy and comforting presence he is, without being apologetic when he scolds Emma. I think this is communicated especially well by how often we are actually shown Mr. Knightley taking his almost-daily walks to Hartfield, how smoothly he comes and goes, and how happy Emma is every time she sees him coming up the path (usually, just at the perfect moment when she needs something to put her back to rights.)
64.media.tumblr.com
Here is Emma, feeling lonely after Miss Taylor's wedding. And in the background, walking up to Hartfield--there's Knightley. He's always been there for her, and he always will be.
And also this Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight this outfit and why I love it: This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding of her home.
Additionally, Jonny Lee Miller captures Knightley’s playful qualities, and his exasperation is so endearing
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GIF by sashajames
GIF by christophernolan
I can’t be the only one tickled by this Knightley’s frustration with Emma! JLM FTW!
Jonny Lee Miller is mesmerizing in any role he inhabits. It’s 2009 Knightly all the way.
no but can you actually go vote for mr knightley he was FOUNDATIONAL for 16 year old me my favourite portrayal of my favourite austen man cannot fall at this hurdle!!!
He is my ultimate Austen Dream Man, I'm with him until the end. Honestly this adaptation is my very favorite of them all (P&P 1995 is a VERY close second) because it made me fall in love with Emma as a story? Honestly no other adaptation or indeed even my reading of the book made me love it quite as much. My crush on JLM goes back to 1995 and I do think he is one of the better actors of his generation - his range alone is just impeccable. The fact that he can go from Sick Boy to Mr. Knightley to Sherlock to Jordan Chase is really something. Of all the actors I know, his range is the most impressive. But i love how bright and sunny this adaptation is. The colors, it is as vibrant as Emma should be! The Kate Beckinsale Emma is dark and terrifying to me, not at all suitable an adaptation. I like the Paltrow Emma a lot, but it's got the same issue the 2005 P&P has for me -- it's just too short. This is tonally just right, and the casting is lovely, and JLM is just at his dashing best. His face is so expressive, he is so capable of communicating so much without saying a word. His open jealousy of Frank Churchill is delightful to watch. His face when Emma tells him his secret is out at the ball! JLM is maybe the most underrated actor of his generation and I LOVE that he has been multiple Austen heroes. I maintain that in a future adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, an older JLM would make an EXCELLENT Mr. Bennet. He would convey the right amount of grumpy but fond beautifully.
Look. Do people realize JLM hates wearing period clothing AND hates dancing? And yet in Emma he's sashaying around in pink jackets looking amazing and is THAT convincing? That's called BRILLIANT ACTING!!
A tiny bit of Mr Knightley 2009 propaganda but I love that they put in that bit from the book where he looks like he's going to kiss Emma's hand when he's saying goodbye but then he hesitates and doesn't and I just...it's such a tiny detail but conveys so much!
GIF by myforeverworldofmovie
It’s the only Emma adaptation that really hits the romance notes well. Knightley’s crowning moment of awesome really feels like it (when he rescues Harriet from humiliation) and his subsequent dancing with Emma does make you feel a shift in their relations. Love this adaptation. - This Knightley and Emma in particular are equals. They quarrel, not because he’s telling her off, but because they can have an argument because they know each other, trust each other and care about each others opinions, and there is never a sense of domination of one over the other. This adds so much fire to the romance, and it’s so unusual for a romance of that era (or even one written today!!). - Emma is rich, clever and beautiful and as powerful as a woman of her age and situation could be at the time and she married Knightley for no other reason but because he’s her best friend and his company for the rest of her life will enrich her. - He even leaves his house to move in with her!
GIF by elinordash
#hotjaneaustenmenpoll#third place poll#colonel brandon#mr knightley#emma 2009#sense and sensibility 1995#Alan rickman#jonny lee miller
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Dog days are over
Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader
Summary: Elizabeth isn’t a dog person… but you are. After the puppy interview, you try to convince your girlfriend to take one of them home.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language. It was inspired by the iconic puppy interview, obviously, but I changed the questions to fit the plot.
MASTERLIST
“Oh, my God,” you uttered at yourself under your breath, immediately bringing a hand to cover your mouth and stop a laugh from escaping as you watched the scene unfold in front of the cameras.
You were sitting behind the expensive equipment among the technical team while you all watched your girlfriend, Elizabeth, sitting in the middle of the room with several puppies surrounding her as she tried to answer the questions being thrown her way. It had been complete havoc since the start, something you had predicted when Elizabeth first told you she agreed with that interview - an internet success, which you had watched many other actors doing it before. However, Elizabeth kept her distance from most animals and you were waiting for the chaos that was going on right now.
What you didn’t expect was that a black puppy would jump to try to bite her hair and just fall on her chest, causing Elizabeth to squeak before she could stop herself. You had to hold your laugh the best you could so you wouldn’t disturb the recording, but you almost slipped when you saw your girlfriend trying to cover up her reaction by laughing and awkwardly scooping the puppy into her arms. You usually didn’t tag along to her interviews - especially because sitting behind the camera all day was boring as hell - but Elizabeth had asked you if you wanted to go with her and you didn’t think twice before saying yes. The reason? That scene right there. A slightly panicked Elizabeth holding an overly excited puppy who was waggling his tail and trying to lick her face.
Well, the fact that there were going to be cute puppies also convinced you to be there.
Elizabeth might not be used to being around animals like that, but you grew up surrounded by them. Since you were a small child, your family had a dog, which ended up coming home pregnant one day and the house was suddenly filled with eight other puppies. Your mother managed to give two of them to other family members before you started crying and screaming saying you didn’t want them to go, and that has been it. You grew up surrounded by dogs. When you left for college, you couldn’t adopt any dog since they took so much time, but you entered your dorm one day and found a black cat sitting on top of your computer, and that’s how you ended up with a new pet. The cat, unfortunately, was already a bit old and he ended up passing away a couple of years after you left college.
Since then, you hadn’t gotten any other pets because you lived in an apartment and had a demanding job that kept you away most of the time, but you loved going back to your parents’ house because they still had many dogs and some other animals - your father still hadn’t explained how they ended up with a tortoise, but you were fine with it.
So, yes, you were having the time of your life.
“Are you a cat person?” The question made by one of the interviewers brought your attention back to the scene in front of you.
When Elizabeth quickly replied with a short “nope” you laughed before you could stop yourself, but luckily you weren’t the only one since everyone else in the room shared the feeling. It also made Elizabeth laugh while she looked around at everyone else and struggled to get the black puppy with the blue collar out of her lap at the same time. Her eyes met yours for a brief second, something that made you smile softly even if you could see the silent ask for help behind her green eyes.
“Is it obvious I’m not a dog person?” Elizabeth wondered out loud with another laugh. “The way you said that like ‘so are you an any kind of animal person?’” She said, trying to sound like the woman asking her the questions. “Are you a bunny person?” She joked in the end, which only made everyone laugh again.
The dog in her lap finally gave up trying to lick her face and ran away to play with his little friends, and you saw how Elizabeth visibly relaxed, having a small break from the cute attackers for once. You were still smiling at her, unable to believe how cute your girlfriend was, when you felt something touching your feet. You looked down and saw that one of the puppies had run into you while playing with a toy and you didn’t think twice before leaning down to pet the cute dog. That was the puppy that seemed the most excited about Elizabeth since the beginning, jumping into her as soon as they saw her, and you received the same treatment as her. That made you smile even more widely and your eyes raised for a moment to see how your girlfriend was holding up before grabbing the toy from the floor to toss it away for the dog to chase.
You could have tossed it to the other side, you could have. Instead, you tossed it right on Elizabeth’s feet and then watched the puppy skid with the little paws to reach the toy. Elizabeth was answering a question you hadn’t heard, her attention away from the dogs, so when the puppy jumped on her again she yelped even louder than before in surprise at the sudden attack.
“Oh, God!”
You bit the inside of your cheek to hold another laugh, but you saw someone giving you a thumbs up for helping in getting that scene. You weren’t sure if your girlfriend realized it had been you who threw the toy at her, although you were praying she didn’t.
“I don’t have a dog,” you heard Elizabeth commenting with an awkward laugh when another puppy tried to get into her lap. She tried to move the first one, but he wasn’t having it, so she reached out for the toy to squeeze it. It was, obviously, the wrong choice because that only made all of the puppies rush to her to try to take it. “Okay, okay, okay…” She repeated the same word countless times while trying to dodge all of the dogs jumping on her and, finally, she threw the toy away, which made all of the puppies run away to get it. “I don’t remember what was the question.”
“You were telling us what are your hobbies,” the interviewer reminded her.
“Oh, yes.” Elizabeth nodded and opened her mouth to reply, only to be jumped by the puppy with the red collar again. She tried to move out of the way, but that only made the dog fall with his paws almost inside of her shirt. “You like the inside of my shirt, I see. You would get along with my girlfriend just fine.”
The laugh that resonated around the room was the loudest it has been since the start of the interview and, even if you were one of the people laughing, you still tried to make yourself look smaller in your chair when everyone turned to look at you. You felt yourself blush and you met Elizabeth’s gaze again just to shake your head at her little joke, but she just laughed and then had to avoid another jumping puppy from hitting her face.
“Since you talked about her,” the interviewer started, “can you tell us about how things are going? You recently moved in together, yes?”
“We did,” your girlfriend replied with a more contained smile. Elizabeth didn’t have a problem talking about you during her interviews - she knew it was going to happen when you both decided to go public about your relationship - but she tried to avoid giving out many details and always tried to change the subject as fast as she could. “People always say we only know who someone really is when you have to share a house with them,” she joked. “But things are going great. Aside from the occasional wet towel on the bed, there hasn’t been any trouble.”
The interview continued after that with the same level of chaos. The dogs kept jumping on her or running around like crazy, there was a poop incident and even a moment where you were sure Elizabeth was regretting putting herself in that situation, but she managed to answer the questions and all the dogs - and Elizabeth - were alive in the end, which you counted as a victory.
Once the questions were over, someone asked Elizabeth to stay in her spot for just a few more minutes while they collected the dogs to take them away again. You had gotten up from your chair since you felt like you needed to stretch a little bit and you were about to pull out your phone to check the time when you saw three of the puppies running towards you while fighting over a toy. Without thinking twice, you sat down on the floor and quickly reached for the toy.
“Hey, now, don’t fight!” You said. They all started to jump to try to get it from you and you felt your legs and arms being scratched with their little sharp nails, but you didn’t mind. It wasn’t their fault and, honestly, you were almost used to that. “Play nice, kiddos,” you asked before throwing the toy away.
To your surprise, not all the puppies rushed to get it. The black puppy with the red collar, that had been among them, decided he wanted to climb your lap instead and that’s what the dog did with his wobbly legs and waggling tail. You laughed happily as you decided to help him by picking him up and pressing him against your chest while you brought your other hand to scratch behind his ear.
“You’re so cute,” you cooed before pressing a kiss on top of his head. In return, the puppy raised his head to lick your chin and you let him do it. “Do you like me? I also like you, boy.” As soon as you said that, though, you paused and picked him up with both hands so you could hold him in front of your face. “Wait, are you a boy?” You turned him a bit to take a look and gasped when you put the dog back against your chest. “You’re a girl! No wonder you were trying to look at Lizzie’s chest!” You declared while trying not to squeeze the dog too much. “I don’t blame you at all for that!”
No one would be able to tell if you were joking or not since you were being so serious while saying that, but thankfully everyone was too busy trying to pick up the running dogs or putting the equipment away before the wires got chewed or something. You didn’t move from where you were sitting playing with the cute puppy and letting her lick your hands and face while all the other dogs were picked one by one to be taken away. You could already feel your chest tighten with the prospect of letting the black puppy go as well, even if it sounded crazy that you had gotten attached to her so fast.
Since you were too busy cuddling the dog, you missed when Elizabeth got up and walked towards you, getting startled when her voice sounded just by your side. “Why is he so calm with you when he was trying to murder me a second ago?”
You looked up and your lips quickly curled in a smile when you saw Elizabeth standing there with her hands on her hips while trying to pretend to be mad. “She wasn’t trying to kill you, babe,” you defended the dog. “She was trying to show you love!”
“That’s some aggressive love,” Elizabeth scoffed.
You laughed. “Yes, because she’s a puppy. She has too much energy. They get calmer when they get older.” Just as you said that, you raised the dog to your eye level again and kissed its snout. “Right, little princess? With a few walks and a lot of plays, you will grow up to be a lazy dog.”
As if she could understand you, the dog barked and tried to lick you again. You cooed and hugged her, but, before you could say anything else, a man approached you while chasing another puppy. You decided to help him out by reaching out with your arm to stop the puppy from running past you, but you still didn’t let go of the dog in your lap.
“Thank you,” the man said as he leaned down to scoop the dog.
“Of course,” you replied before you saw another person bringing a cage. “Where are these cuties from?” You wondered when curiosity got the best of you.
“From a shelter, ma’am,” the first man answered.
“Oh, so they don’t have a family?”
“No, ma’am. Their first event will be this weekend. The shelter organizes a fair to try to find their animals some owners.”
You made up your mind before the man was even done talking. You knew it was insane to even think about it, but you couldn’t help. The puppy in your arms had already won your heart, you couldn’t deny it. Besides, you have been working from home since you got a new job and you certainly had the money to take care of a pet. It could work out perfectly.
Elizabeth seemed like she had read your mind because, when you slowly turned your head to look back at her, she was already shaking her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Lizzie,” you tried to call out her nickname to soften her heart - exactly how you did it every time you were trying to get her to agree with something.
“No, Y/N.” Elizabeth kept her ground, firmly letting you know it was not going to happen. “We’re not taking a dog home with us.”
“But it’s not just a dog,” you complained while raising the puppy for her to see the cute little face. “It’s this little princess.”
“No,” she insisted. “No dogs. No little princess who tried to kill me either.”
“She didn’t try to kill you, I told you that,” you argued and then, because you could feel you were going to lose the argument, you went for your last weapon. A pout. “I promise you I will take care of her, you don’t even have to do anything! I will keep her fed and change the water, and take her for walks, and take her to the vet, all of it.”
“That’s not the problem, Y/N.” Elizabeth sighed. “I’m thinking about all of the mess. And the smell.” She added the last part while throwing a glance at the place where the puppies had pooped before, her nose scrunching adorably when she remembered the awful smell. “Look, I know you like animals, but we’re not getting a dog.”
“Lizzie,” you tried one more time, putting the dog down and pouting as well. It was now or never. “Pretty please? She won’t even get that big and we have so much space around the pool where she could run and play. We don’t need to let her go inside the house even.” Which you know was a little lie since you wouldn’t be able to keep the dog outside, but that was a problem you could solve later. “And I know you like animals, you just don’t… have much practice.”
“And I intend to keep that way.”
You sighed sadly at that and looked down at the dog who had gone oddly quiet during all of that conversation, as if she knew she shouldn’t interrupt. With a sniff, you leaned down to kiss the dog’s head before you let your cheek rest there. It was like saying goodbye to someone from your family.
“Oh, no, are you crying?” Elizabeth now sounded completely in panic, but you had your own emotions to deal with. You just shook your head, clearly lying since you could barely see anything after tears formed in your eyes, but you also didn’t want to seem stupid crying over it either. “No, my love, please don’t cry.” Elizabeth crouched in front of you and you briefly saw her wide green eyes staring at you like she had no idea what to do. “You can get a fish! What about that?”
“Okay,” you mumbled with a trembling voice without looking at her. You didn’t want a fish, although you couldn’t get enough energy to explain that to her. Besides, the lump in your throat wouldn’t allow you to form a phrase anyway.
“My love, please don’t be upset,” your girlfriend tried again, sadly this time. “I don’t like when you’re upset.” All you did was shrug. “I love you so much, my love, but-”
Before she could finish her explanation, the dog in your lap wailed so miserably that it made you hug her tighter and look at Elizabeth again.
Ironically, that’s what broke her.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and pinched her nose for a few seconds before she shook her head to herself. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” she whispered while staring at the ceiling above you and then she finally let out a sigh and looked at you. “Okay, fine, you can have the dog.”
“Oh, my God! Really?!” You didn’t wait for her confirmation. You just threw yourself at her, almost taking both of you to the ground, and started spreading kisses all over her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…” you kept repeating it non-stop.
“Okay, okay.” She pushed you away when it became clear you wouldn’t stop anytime soon, just to raise her index finger while she started listing some rules that you both knew would eventually be broken. “The dog must stay outside, you will take full responsibility for it, you will have to figure out what to do when we decide to travel together, and the dog is gone if she ever causes a single leaf from my garden to break.” Then, Elizabeth turned her attention to the dog, pointing at the puppy and raising her eyebrows. “And I mean it.”
“Did you hear that, pup?” You asked the dog while pointedly ignoring what Elizabeth said. “You’re going home with us!”
The dog picked up on your happiness and started to jump in your arms while trying to lick both of you, but Elizabeth quickly moved away and got up. “God, it has been a second and I’m already regretting it.” Just when you were about to get worried she might change her mind, Elizabeth added: “Wait here, I will see what we need to do to take the dog home.”
“Wait, Lizzie,” you called her before she could take another step away and she turned around at you in expectation. “Come here.” She rolled her eyes, but did as you asked. “Closer.” Again. “Closer.”
“Only if I climb in your lap, but my seat has been taken.” Elizabeth glared at the dog, but you could see she didn’t mean anything by it.
You chuckled and raised your chin. Once again, your girlfriend rolled her eyes although she leaned down to give you a kiss. “I love you,” you whispered when she pulled away.
“You better,” Elizabeth replied with a huff.
“Really, I love you so much.” You pecked her lips one more time.
She sighed and kissed your forehead. “I love you too, my love.”
Elizabeth had just started to leave again when you asked: “Can we call her Wanda?”
“Don’t make me change my mind,” was the reply you got even if she didn’t even turn around to say it.
You only laughed and hugged the puppy again. You could convince her about the name too.
#elizabeth olsen#elizabeth olsen x you#elizabeth olsen x reader#celebrity x reader#marvel#scarlet witch#wanda maximoff#fanfic#creative writing#my writing#drabble#fluff#puppy interview
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Mortal Kombat x Bimbo Reader
Another test run, and these are just bullet points not full blown stories. I've already written another bimbo reader post so I suggest checking that out. Please do requests if this isn't enough.
This one is just Bi Han, Kuai Liang, Hanzo, Shang Tsung and Johnny.
"I need to die looking good."
Bi Han Noob Saibot
He doesn't understand your constant need to dress up and put makeup on, but he won't say anything about it. A lot of women are just like that, so Bi Han just figured it's a female thing. Misogynistic of him, but he doesn't care.
While seeing him training you gladly set up a chair and watched him from afar whilst drinking a cocktail, and you've attached yourself to him ever since. He couldn't take you seriously at first, but he could only admit to himself that your dense personality was a little adorable.
When the blood got too much you would hide your face in his chest, which he didn't mind even though some makeup stains would go on his clothes.
When he returned as Noob Saibot he swore to make you drop dead gorgeous, even if you already were. But you would join him in death as his revenant lover. Quan Chi was sure to give you the best manicures so long as you were loyal to him.
Kuai Liang
As a man that puts Lin Kuei traditions in high regard he could understand your need for the newest fashion and dressing well. He showed you his wardrobe and you decided to copy his style, which he found adorable.
He likes having tea with you, but you're certain he must try a frappe or at least a smoothie.
Kuai isn't one for public affection, Lin Kuei and all, but he lets you climb over him. If he's not disciplining Frost or the other Lin Kuei then he's snogging you in the snow. After you drag him into it at least. He only initiates things first if you guys are alone.
Although you didn't understand a lot of things he could appreciate you being there for him to give comfort on sensitive topics.
Hanzo 'Scorpion' Hasashi
It was like talking to a different Johnny Cage in his opinion. It was a bit jarring to have you flirting with him and not get the slightest hint that he's not interested since revenge was on his mind. It was after he was brought back as Hanzo Hasashi that he appreciated your presence more.
The Shirai Ryu are ninjas, so that meant blending into society when on mission and you had a lot of things to say about clothing choices.
The Shirai Ryu shrine looked better than he remembered, you had given him ideas on the layout and studied a thing or two on Japanese culture to make it legit.
When he caught you teaching the new members cheerleading moves he knew he had to be more welcoming with you, because those were complicated moves. And it showed him you were no stranger to teamwork. Hanzo could see the beauty in that.
Shang Tsung
This villainous man came across you giving Mileena style tips and fixing her hair. He had no clue how you snuck into the private parts of the palace, but he suspected you were partially from the Chaosrealm.
Mileena didn't react well to your absence, and after Kitana's rejection she seemed to have formed an attachment to you so Shang expected you around the palace. Shao Kahn was glad that Mileena had a nice person to look up to, so he was fine with you in the palace.
Shang had you participate in the tournament for a reason, but he underestimated your powers as well as your fighting abilities. Such beauty in combat is rare.
Johnny Cage
Barbie and Ken in the eyes of many Earthrealmers, but you two are the 'it' couple when it comes to vanity, expensive taste, and being drama queens.
He is your husband, your best friend, and your mirror. Your super power was convenience and getting yourself out of serious situations, but how it acted up was at random times. Johnny could relate to that.
In the meantime, you could both bathe in the spotlight, and the cameras. And your friends from home can be jealous and gush about you marrying an actor.
It was a match made in pink and green.
#mortal kombat bimbo reader#mortal kombat headcanons#bimbo reader#mortal kombat x reader#sub zero#bi han#noob saibot#scorpion#female reader#johnny cage#kuai liang#hanzo hasashi#shang tsung
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STRANGER THINGS 5 PRODUCTION MASTERPOST
All that we know about season 5 of Stranger Things:
At some point things will be happening during November 21 in 1987 (?)
The government/military ppl will be in Hawkins and they build things around town
Schools are open
Hawkins is probably having problems with electricity
There is a project (from the Department of energy) for the students in High School to build something that can help with solar and wind power for the town
Dustin, Nancy and Jonathan have some scenes together in the farm of Eugene McCorkle and the upside down farm too in ep. 4
Jonathan and Steve have a scene together trying to open or start something that looks like a machine (a light turns from red to green) in ep. 1
There is a scene with Will, El, Robin, Nancy and Joyce
One of the first scenes will be a kid singing a song in the Upside Down ( probably Will singing Should I stay or should I go )
"The crawl" is the title of episode 1 of season 5
There's a lake involved? More pictures from the set
The lake is Browns lake in Georgia near where they will be filming (not confirmed that they will be filming at the lake)
More set pictures
First picture of the Wheeler's home while they are preparing the sets | more pictures | more
The actors are going on set and things are getting ready to start shooting stranger things 5
Max will be back in some way in the first episode
I'm gonna just do this for all the RANDOM pictures from the filming on set : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Season 5 will have 8 episodes / first table read during the first week of December, production is starting in January
They confirmed that the finale will not be of the "it was all a dream" kind of finale, it's not a d&d game the kids are playing
Production of s5 officially started on the 5th of January 2024
First official tweet of the production on the 8
Bts from the first day on set!! Stobin ❤️
First bts of Dustin on set / 1 /
Argyle may not be appearing in s5 (I hope it's a lie)
First look at Mike on set (paparazzi)
Other pictures of Dustin and what I think happens in this scene
At some point they go to the supermarket again
They use the radio station for something
Pictures from the set by Ross (Mike and bts)
Pictures from the radio station: El and Mike talk on the roof, Hopper and Joyce are around: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5
Video of Mike & El having a heart to heart
Lip reading made by me (it could be wrong!!!!)
They filmed something at the hospital and something at the Mall of season 3
Extra from the scene of Mike and El on the roof of the radio station
I think they are filming the ep. in order: what we know so far
Filming at Stone Mountain in Georgia
More background pictures in the school: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5
Pictures from the filming at the hospital
New pics at the hospital
Filming at lover's lake? More
Sets that we know have the upside down vines
Random news about the extras / more
Filming some scenes near the metro and train tracks?
Radio station at night / more radio station pics
More random pictures from the set / more
A good picture of the WSQK blue van
Who was on set / very blurry pics on set / more
WEEK 3 From Ross Duffer ( El!!)
Leaks from the radio station set (video + Murray has the outfit of the supermarket)
First look at Nancy and Jonathan / more /and again
Pictures from the McCorkle farm / more
FIRST LOOK AT WILL BYERS IN SEASON 5
First look at Nancy and other pictures from Ross! (week 5 and 6 of filming)
to be continued...
NEW PRODUCTION MASTERPOST (with the date)
#st5 production#st5 leaks#st5#stranger things 5#stranger things#st5 production masterpost#byler#st5 spoilers
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petty fights with zb1
genre: slight angst only for hyung line, most are lighthearted
pairing: reader (gn) x all members of zerobaseone
about/tags: what i think reader x zb1 would fight about
warning some have triggers (implied cheating, jealousy and injury), these are mostly lighthearted, not all are established relationship, bullet point reactions, all lowercase is intentional, not proofread, i should have just made this normal and not bullet, I'm lazy
⠀⠀ kim jiwoong ⠀⠀
you always thought you were secure in your relationship
a lot of people swooned over jiwoong but he's been good at reassuring you that you're the only person for him
but lately, he's been busy filming another drama with seobin
and they spend all their free time together, doing lives and filming vlogs for seobin's channel
while some of it is for pr, you know they're really good friends either way
he's a hell of a good actor, you think
because watching his chemistry with seobin, you start to think he's cheating on you
you hope he isn't, but when he comes home one day looking extremely exhausted and as if he just cried – you prayed that you would be wrong
jiwoong kneels in front of you, and has trouble looking you in the eyes
he keeps stuttering, and then just cries
⠀⠀ zhang hao ⠀⠀
when you first started dating, one of the things you worried about was how well hao would get along with your group of friends
they were kinda, well, loud and too much
and you know hao is quite introverted – it's one of the things you love about him. he's calm. you're crazy. that kinda thing.
when you're all together he's usually mostly silent but he engages in conversation. you had assumed that when you all mingle and have your own conversations he holds up on his own.
to your surpise, your best friend let you know that he hasn't made an effort to get to know her even after all these months
that made you mad
the air in the car ride home felt weird. you were at a stoplight when you accusingly said
"do you hate my friends?"
hao just looks at you, and begins to open his mouth but is distracted by the sudden green light
without giving him a chance to think, "hao i've made an effort to be good friends with your members"
hao thinks you're being unfair, because even his partner doesn't understand what it's like to be an introvert
but to some degree you're right, he doesn't try hard enough
unsure of what to say, he nods and continues to drive
you loudly sigh and direct your body towards your window. you know this will have to be a conversation for tomorrow.
⠀⠀ sung hanbin ⠀⠀
hanbin was taking longer than usual again today
you always meet up at the exit of building b of the university when you're both done with your classes, so you could go on a quick cafe date before the sun sets
it's been 30 minutes since he texted "on my way!"
fed up, you head over to his classroom to find him lending his notes to a girl. usually this isn't a problem, but it's who he's lending it to that irks you.
"baby, can we go?"
"oh hi y/n, yeah hold on somi's just finishing up with my notes"
thing is, somi likes your boyfriend, and your boyfriend doesn't see that.
you head over to their table and pick up hanbin's notebook, somi looks shocked she was disrupted
"i'll send you photos of the other pages when we get home"
you shove his notebook in your book bag and start walking away, not giving her an opportunity to respond
when hanbin catches up to your pace he reaches for your hand only for you to swat it away
"stop being so nice to everyone hanbin, they get the wrong idea"
hanbin wanted to defend himself, but he deprioritized that train of thought as he realized you are 100% the jealous type
⠀⠀ seok matthew ⠀⠀
matthew's main descriptor is that he's cute, because he is
but you didn't know that being called cute bothered your boyfriend
"am i not handsome to you?"
"babe, where is this coming from?"
he flashes his phone screen, your recent photoset post from your finsta on display. it featured various pictures of both of you from your dates the week before
the caption he pointed to: "i have the cutest boyfriend in the whole world"
so you deadass thought he was joking
but he really wasn't, he looked real serious -_-
you set the phone down and hugged him, placing your head on his chest
"of course i also think you're the hottest man on the planet"
"much better", matthew finally smiles and you both laugh as he tickles you in revenge
later that night, you posted a few of his gym thirst traps with the caption "my boyfriend is so handsome he should choke me"
his older sister commented: gross. block me next time.
⠀⠀ kim taerae ⠀⠀
so the "fight" started when he texted you that morning with
"y/n look at this, the fans are saying i dress terribly"
"....well"
"well?! well what??"
you ended up not replying because you didn't know how to word it
you loved taerae but those red sweats needed to go
so when you got another text that said "are you really not going to respond to me"
you hit him with a "let's just go shopping today"
even though you hated couple items, it was the only way for taerae to buy the items you wanted for him
he secretly bought a pair of red sweats for you
in the end, he beats the fashion taeraerist allegations (thanks to you)
⠀⠀ ricky ⠀⠀
ever since you started dating, you couldn't recall a time when you were able to pay for your dates
he beats you to it every time...and you feel terrible about it.
ricky extensively spoiled you, and all you wanted was to be given an opportunity to do the same for him
one day you asked him if you could pay for lunch this time around
"no. never. don't worry about stuff like that"
"let me do it just once, please?"
you didn't get your way, and you both walked out of the restaurant slightly annoyed
in fact, you refused to go on any date with him from that point unless you could pay for it
he deadass couldn't get you to come with him on any plan he made for a whole month.
eventually, he showed up at your place and said "fine. for every ten dates you can pay for one"
he wasn't happy with it but at least you were
⠀⠀ kim gyuvin ⠀⠀
gyuvin was the clumsiest person you know
so when he knocked over the vase and cut his hand in an attempt to clean it up, you couldn't help but scream at him in worry for his safety
"gyuvin what are you doing? you shouldn't have touched that!"
you quickly found the first aid kit that his mom kept underneath the bathroom sink
gyuvin had his head down as he applied pressure to the cut
he watched as you worked your way through the supplies
as you gently tended to his wound he tried not to make any sound
"sorry i yelled earlier. i just wish you were more careful. i don't like it when you get hurt"
he looked up to meet your eyes, you were tearing up
it was sorta clouding your vision, so you had to stop what you were doing
"i know y/n, i'm sorry. i'm working on it"
he leaned his head against yours
⠀⠀ park gunwook ⠀⠀
you're both in debate. and you strongly dislike going up against him because 98% of the time you lose.
he likes to win and then gloat about it later
"how's it like to lose for the 3rd time in a row?" (jokingly, you think)
(because you have an inclination that he might have a massive crush on you) (you are correct)
academic rivals to lovers, if you will
when you finally started dating he stopped gloating at least
that doesn't mean he goes easy on you, he tries to give his one hundred percent because so do you
sometimes mid debate he'd catch himself staring at you and get a little distracted
your losing rate has since decreased to about 70% now (thank you puppy gunwook!)
⠀⠀ han yujin ⠀⠀
yujin had issues with sharing way before you started liking each other
maybe it's because he has younger siblings and basically had to share everything with them all his life
so when he shows up to school with a fully packed lunch and extra snacks, and you dare to come up to ask for the pack of pretzels he had, he was hesitant
you did this every monday without fail and he started to get fed up with it
"get your own food will you?"
"i would but it tastes better when it comes from you" you say as you plop down next to him at the courtyard
boy was gobsmacked. from that moment on he was kinda smitten.
i don't know how either that's just how his brain works
from then on, he only shared his snacks with you
except for that one time yena from the upper year said "oh that looks good, can i have some yujinie?" and he gave the whole bag to her.
yeah you guessed it, your pretzel bag.
you were furious
he didn't understand why until you made a snide remark at the end of the day - something along the lines of "yeah you're only nice to older girls"
he bought the giant xl version of the pretzels to school the next day as a sorry
A/N: my friend alexis helped me out with the ideas per member. personally tried to be angsty but most ended up being lighthearted lol. requests are open and you can claim anons too if you'd like hehe
૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
#zb1 imagines#zb1 scenarios#boys planet drabbles#boys planet fanfic#boys planet scenarios#boys planet imagines#boys planet#zerobaseone#zb1 reactions#zb1 fluff#zb1 drabbles#kim jiwoong#zhang hao#sung hanbin#seok matthew#kim taerae#zb1 ricky#kim gyuvin#park gunwook#han yujin#boys planet fics#boys planet reactions
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“Scared of me?” Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader
Kinktober — Week Four: Stalker, mask, car sex, choking, DC
You had always wanted to go to Horror Nights, and finally tonight was the night. You and your friends had all saved up to get the fast passes to beat the two hour lines, gotten cute outfits to take a bunch of pictures in, and all met up early at the theme park to get the full experience.
Excitement ran through your veins as you entered the park. The decorations were amazing and the sets for the mazes were really thought out.
The best part though were the scare actors prowling around through the crowds. The costumes ranged from people with scary makeup, to people walking on stilts.
The whole thing left you in awe.
Your friends you decided to go through some of the mazes, and your group clung together as you guys screamed through each one.
After a couple of the scary mazes, you guys went to look for something to eat. Navigating through the large crowds was difficult, especially with the scare actors going around.
Finding a food stand you all could agree on, your friends went to order while you looked for a place to sit. You found a place nearby pretty quickly and made your way over to claim it.
Just as you made it to the picnic table you suddenly felt a presence behind you.
“Boo,” An extremely deep, unnatural voice said behind you, causing you to jump and turn around.
It was a scare actor, obviously. A man, shirtless and smeared with fake blood, wearing a mask with glowing green eyes.
You gasped and stepped backwards from him, startled by how ominous his presence was. He seemed different than the other actors, for example he was the first one you’d seen that was completely topless.
His mask was different too. It looked like a humanoid creature with exaggerated pointed features, the expression set in a permanent scowl. ( I’m going for erens titan as a mask )
It’s glowing LED lights for eyes really made the whole look though. They were haunting.
The two of you just stood there for a moment, staring at each other. The actor tilted his head to the side, as if questioning you, and you watched his long brown hair fall over his shoulder.
“I-I,” You stumbled over your words, feeling very confused.
The scare actors have been doing a great job so far at making you feel what you’re supposed to feel, scared.
Until now, until him.
You can feel yourself blushing under his watchful eyes, and you want nothing more than to rub your thighs together to elevate the sudden ache you feel between them.
The actor tilts his head the other way, and this time you notice the way his bare torso moves. This man is cut, and the fake blood covering him only helps to accentuate that.
“Yes?” That deep voice asked, and you suddenly realize that he has a voice changer in his mask as well.
You clear your throat, “I- I like your mask.”
Another moment of just staring passes between the two of you, and now you suddenly hate his mask because you can’t see anything going behind it. But then, the actor takes a step closer to you and this time, you don’t step away from him.
His tall frame is extremely close to you now, and you suck in a breath when he leans down to press the nose of his mask to yours, “Thank you.”
You blink at him and open your mouth to say something else when you hear your friends call out for you.
It’s like a spell was broken. You gasp, eyes widening and you take a step back, bumping into the table in the process. A deep chuckle comes from the actors mask, sending a chill down your spine as you watch him stand back up to his full height.
The man then just walks away, moving back to prowl around through the crowd of people.
You watch him disappear, a feeling of disappointment filling your chest.
When you’re friends make it over to you, hands full of food, they ask you if you’re okay. You nod and sit down with them after turning to try and find those glowing eyes again.
After you guys finish eating you continue making your way through the park. You go through more mazes, look through the shops, get some snacks and drinks, and laugh every time one of your friends gets scared.
It was just as fun as you thought it would be.
Except, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you, following you.
You couldn’t tell if it was just the atmosphere of Horror Nights or if you were really being stalked, but whenever you would check your surroundings when the feeling got to be too much, you could’ve sworn you saw those familiar glowing green eyes.
Was that scare actor following you?
You should’ve said something, told one of your friends or gone to an employee. Instead you waited, sitting with your anticipation and wondering what the wanted.
It was late by the time your friends decided to call it a night, and you guys walked to the exit together before saying goodbye and splitting off to head to your cars.
The feeling that you were being watched intensified once you were alone. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and you picked up your pace the closer you got to your car.
You could feel his presence behind you now, trailing behind you toward your car, and once you rounded the side of your car to get in the driver’s seat, he was on you.
Two hands suddenly grabbed your waist, roughly spinning you around to look into the same LED green lights from earlier.
The masked man pressed you against the car as you stared at him and whispered, “So you were following me.”
He nodded, not seeming even a little ashamed, and leaned into you. His hands immediately began exploring, roaming across your body over your clothes, making you shudder and close your eyes.
“Not even going to say anything?” You mutter, hating how much control this stranger had over you.
How much control you were letting him have.
The man pushed himself closer, leaning down to put the mouth of the mask next to your ear, and you felt him squeeze your ass as the deep voice asked, “Yes or no?”
You whimpered as his hands continued to squeeze you, and nodded.
“Say it.” He demanded.
You moaned as you said, “Yes.”
“Good,” Was all he said before unbuttoning your jeans and sliding his hand inside both them and your panties.
A gasp fell out of your mouth at the suddenness, but it melted into another moan at the feeling of two of his fingers slipping between your folds and sliding against your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily against his hand, and you gripped onto his arms for dear life as pleasure engulfed you.
“So easily undone by someone you know literally nothing about,” The man teased you, causing you to whine, “Don’t even know what my actual voice sounds like and here you are, letting me finger you in a parking lot.”
“Take off the mask then,” You groaned, your eyes rolling back as you feel him slip his middle finger inside of you.
He pushes another finger inside of your aching pussy before you can even fully adjust to the feeling of the first one.
You cry out, too lost in the feeling of his fingers inside of you and the heel of his hand rubbing your clit to notice how loud you were.
The strangers free hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing made you open your eyes and gasp out a surprised breath, “Shhhh.”
“P-please,” You mumbled, feeling so close to the edge.
The man pressed the nose of his mask against yours, just like before, and said, “If you want to see my face, then earn it.”
Right as you were about to cum, he pulled his hand out from inside your pants. You groan in frustration, tears prickling your eyes, “Why-“
“Get on your knees,” He ordered, taking a step back to give you room. You watch him completely stunned as he lifts the bottom of his mask, and slides his fingers still covered in your slick in his mouth.
You still can’t see anything but when he moans as he tastes you, it’s him. The sound doesn’t come out of the voice changer, deepening and distorting it, you only hear him.
And the sound makes you drop to your knees, eager to please him enough to take the mask off.
“Good girl,” he says after pulling the mask back down, “Taste fucking good too, just like I thought.”
You make quick work of unzipping his pants and pulling him out, and your eyes widen at the sheer size of him.
You don’t know if he’ll fit inside your cunt, let alone your throat.
“You can take it,” The man grunts, apparently reading your mind, before grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your face closer to his cock.
Frowning, you glare up at him, “Can I at least know your name?”
You watch him tilt his head, “It’s Eren. Now suck my cock, Yn.”
Your eyes widen at his use of your name, knowing full well that you never told him it. Then again, he has been following you, he probably heard it from your friends throughout the night.
Throwing another bratty glare at him, you bring your hand up to wrap around the base of Eren’s cock as you wrap your lips around his head.
A breathy sound comes out of Eren’s mask, encouraging you to take more of him. It doesn’t take long for you to begin sucking him off in earnest, causing his hand to tighten in your hair almost painfully.
“Fuck, keep going baby,” Eren groaned, rocking his hips and gently fucking your mouth. You moan around his length and gag a little when he thrusts in to far.
With a strangled sound Eren pulls you off of him suddenly, saliva and precum connecting you before he lifts you off the pavement, “Backseat. Now.”
You quickly open the car door and he pushes you inside on your back, already tugging your jeans and panties down your legs.
The door slams shut and he on top of you, spreading your legs and lining himself up with your now exposed entrance.
“Eren please!” You whine, feeling him tease you with the head of his cock.
“You want me to fuck you? Huh?” He taunts, rubbing his tip through your folds, “Need me inside of your pussy?”
“Yes, gods please fuck me Eren.” You beg, tears pricking your eyes again.
He pushes his length inside of you without warning, bottoming out and making your eyes snap shut at the feeling of being stretched out. Eren feels so big inside of you, filling you up so much that he’s kissing your cervix.
It feels amazing.
“Look at me,” Eren grunts and you falter at the unfamiliar voice.
You open your eyes and look up Eren in the dark of your car, to realize he took the mask off. His eyes were green, but unlike his mask they weren’t blinding yet haunting. They looked at you with hunger and amusement.
“Hi, princess.” Eren smirked at you and began thrusting his hips at a bruising pace.
Moaning loudly you squeezed your legs around him, arching your back at the intense pleasure resurfacing through your body.
He immediately found your sweet spot, exploiting it and making your body shake, “You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, fuck.”
With the edge from earlier you could already feel your climax approaching, so you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Finally feeling his mouth on yours was exhilarating and you moaned, “Don’t stop, fuck I’m so close.”
Eren smirked again your mouth and muttered, “Come on, cum on my cock and show me how good I make you feel.”
Slipping his hand between your bodies, Eren started rubbing your clit, making you fall apart. You came with a long moan, clinging onto the man on top of you and clenching around him.
“S-shit,” Eren groaned before quickly pulling out and fisting his dick, spilling his cum all across your stomach.
You lay on your backseats, panting as you desperately try to catch your breath. Looking up at Eren, you find him staring at you, a satisfied smile lighting up his face.
“What?” You ask, suddenly feeling self conscious and very aware that you don’t know this man.
But Eren just shoots you a cocky smirk and says, “I just knew you’d look good covered in my cum, that’s all.”
Kinktober is FINISHED
#eren yeager x reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger smut#eren jeager x reader#eren x you#eren aot#eren x reader#eren jaeger#eren jeager x y/n#eren yaegar#aot x female reader#aot x reader#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#eren jeager smut#aot smut#stuckinthesun kinktober#kinktober 2023#kinktober
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Date night
Pairings: Eddie Munson x reader
Summary: You make Eddie take you to a haunted house.
Warning: fluff, mention of weed
Prompt: “…You’re cutting off the circulation in my arm.” “Oh? S-sorry. Just… "Got a little tense, is all. I swear I’m not scared, though! Why would I be scared of fake shit like that, anyway? What do you take me as— AHH! FUCKING GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU FUCKHOLE—”
A/n: I wanted to try and do a little fall/halloween blurb from this prompt list. Not proofread.
"JESUS CHRIST!" Eddie shrieked as a scary clown with sharp pointed teeth jumps out from behind a wall.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," he mumbled behind you, clutching his heart.
"Oh, c'mon Ed, it's not that bad they're just people in costumes." You giggle, leading the way through the haunted house.
Eddie had promised to take you out on a date, letting you pick wherever you wanted to go. What he didn't expect was your first and only choice being Hawkins new haunted house. He tried to persuade your mind on going to the pumpkin patch instead, but your mind was already made up. He was taking you to that haunted house.
Eddie pretended like scary stuff didn't bother him much. He could sit down with you and watch scary movies all night long. Only jumping when a masked killer appeared from out of nowhere. He played it off like he was re-adjusting to get more comfortable.
You always knew he was actually more scared than he led on because after your movie night, the lights in his home stayed on. He didn't care if his Uncle Wayne came home and threw a fit. Those lights were not getting shut off until the sun was out.
You, on the other hand, loved any and all things scary. Halloween was your absolute favorite time of year. Which is why Eddie tried his best to enjoy it just as much as you did. He loved seeing you weirdly giddy at the sight of people in zombie costumes. How you jumped for joy and excitement standing in line to see a new horror movie at the theater.
Now, as you both make your way down, different hallways covered in various props. Fake blood splattered on the walls and spooky sounds playing on the speakers, setting the perfect mood. Scare actors chasing or popping out from around different corners.
The sound of others screaming ahead of you, alterting what's about to come next. A giant smile plastered on your face as you make your way through the house while Eddie tagged along behind you very closely. His eyes closed most of the time, and his heart beating a mile a minute.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you owe me big time." He spoke while hesitantly peaking down an empty hallway, making sure no one was lurking.
"Fine, what do I owe you?" You sighed, turning your head to look at him.
He paused, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Oh, please, as if you didn't get enough already yesterday." You rolled your eyes, taking his hand guiding him around another dark corner. There were fake arms and legs hanging from the ceiling. Every once in a while, his head would bump into one, and you'd hear a quiet "ew" from behind.
"I could never get enough, especially if it's coming from you." He bent down to whisper in your ear.
"I literally made you tomato soup yesterday. Now you want it again?" It's not even cold enough yet for soup."
"I want gold fish to put in it this time and add that green stuff that looks like bad weed," He added proudly as his head bumped yet again into another fake arm dangling from the ceiling.
"Oh, you mean the green stuff that looks like your weed." You teased.
You heard him gasp from behind you, and before he even had a chance to argue back, a girl with long black hair covering her face popped out from a fake mirror on the wall, making him shrill with fear. He gripped your arm so tight you swear it's losing going to go numb.
"…You’re cutting off the circulation in my arm."
"Oh? S-sorry. Just… "Got a little tense, is all. I swear I’m not scared, though! Why would I be scared of fake shit like that, anyway?" He motions around, letting go of you. He's trying to gain his composure as if he hasn't been terrified the entire time. Pretending like he was never scared in the first place, but you know the truth. Those screams were genuine fear coming from within him.
He goes to continue on, "What do you take me as— AHH! FUCKING GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU FUCKHOLE—"
You swear you've never seen him move this fast before. His body probably resembled something of a blur to the others you were sure of it. You couldn't help but chuckle a little as he ran through the entire place until the glowing exit sign was in sight. Maybe you should have picked the pumpkin patch for date night instead.
Before Eddie could finish, a large man with a fake chainsaw creeps up from behind him. The buzz from the saw startling him so bad that he takes you by the hand and bolts through the house. Running down corridors and various small rooms filled with people dressed like grotesque monsters.
They reached for him before they even noticed you. Eddie never stopped screaming and cursing as he made a beeline through the house with your hand tightly in his. You heard him repeatedly reassure that he's going to get you out of here.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things#my writing#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n
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KINKTOBER DAY 5 | Tate Langdon x Reader
Kinktober day 5: semi-public sex
Warnings: 18+, fingering, semi-public sex,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
‘’It’s the third time we go. I get that you love Halloween, but aren’t you tired of people jumping before you and screaming to scare you?’’
‘’I’ll go by myself if you don’t want to come.’’
Dani eyed your outfit, then hummed disapprovingly. ‘’Dressed like that? Terrible idea.’’
‘’There’s a lot of people and it’s dark. It’s the perfect place for creepy men to prey on women who are alone. Especially if they are wearing a skirt,’’ Penelope added, being on Dani’s side.
‘’I can defend myself,’’ you said, not worried at all.
‘’We’re all going.’’
While you loved Halloween, you didn’t tell your friend the real reason you wanted to go to Horror Nights again. They would tease you to no ends if they knew it was to see the cute boy you had spotted on opening weekend. He was one of the scare actors in the haunted maze attraction. He had crawled over to you to scare you, but your eyes found his and time stopped for a few seconds. His face was caked with a skull makeup, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
The line for tickets was long, as always. It’s Saturday night, what were you expecting? After what felt like an eternity, you finally made it inside. The first attraction didn't really send shivers down your spine, but Penelope got scared by a clown and almost fell on her ass, making the three of you laugh so much your stomachs hurt.
When you — finally — got to the haunted maze, you searched for him in every corner. But he was nowhere in sight. You saw a boy in a skull makeup, but it wasn’t him. His hair was bright green, not blond.
The last attraction was the penitentiary, which turned out to be terrifying. The people in the cells were chained and acting insanely, some were getting lobotomies or just screaming and running. The lights were flickering, adding to the spooky ambiance.
You were almost out of the attraction when a group of energetic kids bumped into you and your friends, separating you from them. ‘’Dani! Penelope!’’ you called out, but your voice got lost in the chaos. ‘’Dani—’’
Your words got cut off by a gasp when a tall figure in a black rubber suit appeared before you. Panic set in, and before you could scream, his hand clamped over your mouth, and he pushed you back against a wall. Actors were not supposed to touch the visitors. You struggled, trying to break free, but he was much stronger than you.
An amused chuckle came from underneath the mask, then the person revealed themself.
Through the flickering lights, you caught his eyes, the ones you had been looking for all night.
The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. ‘’I scared you.’’
You shoved his shoulder, trying to appear mad. ‘’Can you blame me? I’m a woman. Placed like this are a perfect setting for a murder or worse, rape.’’
Immediately, the blond felt bad. ‘’I didn’t think about that… Shit. I’m sorry,’’ he apologized, his deep brown eyes softly looking at you. ‘’When I saw you in the penitentiary, I just knew I needed to take my chance and talk to you. ’’
A smile fought on your lips. ‘’Is this how you flirt with girls? By scaring the living hell out of them?’’
He shook his head. ‘’I’m not much of a flirt,’’ he explained, rubbing the back of his neck.
Another group of running kids came by, screaming and fleeing something they had just seen, making you think that you should get back to your friends. They must be searching for you and flooding your phone with worried texts.
But you didn’t want to.
‘’I-I’m Tate, by the way.’’
You gave him your name, then pulled him down for a kiss as the lights went out. Tate kissed you back, his hands pulling your body close to his as he gently pulled your lower lip with his teeth. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself running your fingers through his hair, letting out a soft, involuntary moan into the kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, ignoring the drilling sound of the lobotomy tool and screamings nearby.
When you paid for your entry ticket a few hours ago, you didn’t think you would end the night with the stranger in the skull makeup’s tongue in your mouth. But here you were, making out together in the middle of an attraction.
‘’Come with me.’’ Tate took your hand and led you away from the main way of the penitentiary.
You didn’t know where you were going, but you held on tight to his hand as he led you into the darkness. He’s been working here since opening night, he must know his way through the attraction.
Tate pulled one of the black curtains that opened the backstage area of the penitentiary where extra props, electricity chords and other stuff were hidden.
‘’Is this where you’re planning to kill me and hide my body?’’ you joked, trusting him enough to make this kind of joke.
He shook his head and pinned you against the wall, his latex covered chest pressing against you and moved his mouth to your ear. ‘’No,’’ he whispered, sending shivers down your spine. ‘’This is where I plan to make you cum.’’
No man had ever left you speechless until tonight, but you were too stunned to speak. You never expected such explicit words to come from his mouth. Not with sweet innocent eyes like his.
Tate’s hand followed the path down the curves of your body, slow and teasing as arousal started to pool between your legs. He stopped at the hem of your skirt, pleased at your clothing choice for the night. It'll be less of a fuss to access where he wanted.
‘’Tate,’’ you gasped at the first graze of his fingers.
He must be able to feel your wetness through the lace. He pressed the wet heat of your cunt into his hand, tearing a moan from you.
You would be embarrassed to be so wet already, but all that was on your mind was Tate's fingers rubbing against your folds through the thin fabric. His mouth had descended down your neck and jawline, gently kissing as he listened to the soft pleased sounds escaping your lips.
Screams and laughter came from the other side of the thin wall, drowning the sounds of your activities. If Tate’s boss knew what you were doing, he would get fired on the spot.
Tate pushed your panties to the side, and then slid between your folds. ‘’I’ve been thinking about you — about doing this to you — since I saw you in the maze.’’
Your head fell back against the wall, images of that night, of him crawling across the maze to scare you flashed in your head as he teased your most sensitive flesh. It felt like a fucking dream, except you weren’t sleeping.
‘’Thought you looked pretty that night, but I bet you’re looking even prettier right now,’’ Tate said, wishing he could see you in better lighting.
He lightly brushed your clit, then briefly dipped into your entrance before pulling away.
‘’Please,’’ you begged, pushing your hips where you knew his hand was, and finally two of his thick fingers thrusted into your folds.
Your inner muscles clenched around him, making Tate wish he wasn’t wearing that stupid latex suit so he could feel you clench around his cock. Instead, he’ll have to settle for this — getting you off.
‘’When we get out of here, don’t think we’re done,’’ he said, moving his fingers in and out of you while his other hand came around your neck, forcing you to look into his eyes. ‘’The night is just getting started.’’
—
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark
#tate langdon#tate langdon x reader#tate langdon imagine#american horror story#american horror story imagine#kinktober
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Could you write a Vox x Alastor’s Child? Wherein reader views their fights as a “bonding activity” because it relieves stress for the both of them because they’re not willing to kill each other due to not wanting to hurt reader and they’ll be civil when they need to be. A large chunk of their rivalry being due to Alastor seeing Vox as trying to steal his child from him (making them his partner both romantically & business wise, them becoming an actor) and Vox seeing it the same way with Alastor trying to drag them on random outings when they’re supposed to film or have time together. - @am-i-interrupting
"Two households, both unalike in dignity,
In our unsightly hell, where we lay our scene," PART 1
Vox x gn reader (Alastor's child)
Note: At first I wasn't sure if I wanted to do this one, especially because i had already written a daughter character, already have a daughter oc myself and then would have this child. But then I had this Romeo and Juliet inspo in mind and now I wanted to do it.
!!!!! NOTE ABOUT REQUEST !!!!!
So I really liked the idea of this Vox and Alastor dynamic but I can't write short stories so instead I'm doing a 2 or 3 parter about how they got into this dynamic. So they aren't like how you requested yet.
Word count: 3436
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
"Two households, both unalike in dignity,
In our unsightly hell, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where denizen blood makes denizen teeth unclean,
From forth the innovation of these two foes,
A pair of star-crossed lovers arise,"
Y/n sat on the balcony of their father's mansion. Nothing but trees, or at least hell's version of trees, could be seen from there. The bustling city was ways away from the territory most denizens were too afraid of to enter. The book they were reading was written a small auteur in hell, it was obvious that he had taken great inspiration from a much more famous work. An old-fashioned, cannibal and a modern man, with more savoury tastes, falling in love, their families hate each other yada yada yada. Nothing they hadn't read before.
The demon, whom resembled a deer, put their book down and started messing with the knobs on their older radio. It sprung alive with the voice of their father; Alastor the Radio Demon, feared all throughout hell. On his broadcast played a catchy jazz song that, every once in a while, got interrupted by agonizing screams.
"That was an amazing number." The Radio glowed green as he spoke. "It brings me all the way back to the nights I spend in the speakeasies. Let's continue on-"
Everyday Alastor would broadcast the news and gossip of the week at exactly 10 a.m. and Y/n would always tune in.
"- Oh, and make sure to stay clear of the Carmine mansion this evening. The overlords are having a little get-together. So if you don't want to be served for dinner, I recommend you go home early tonight."
Right, Camilla Carmine was holding a party to celebrate the 100th anniversary of Carmine industries. Y/n was so excited. Normally their father wouldn't let them go to parties, but considering he would be there, he allowed them to go this time.
"Lastly I have a personal message to my favourite fan. I couldn't have wished for a better fawn. I hope you liked the breakfast I cooked especially for you, that demon was a struggle to catch. Hahaha," he laughed, "see you after the broadcast. Let's put on (song), it's not really my style but considering it's your favourite, I can make an exception." Their song slowly came on while Alastor's voice faded.
Y/n hadn't made friends outside of cannibal town. They had to admit they were a bit nervous...
The day went by faster and faster as the night grew closer. Y/n had put on their green gown/suit. It was beautiful; adorned with black lace, a pattern of turns and roses sewn into it.
"What do you think?" Y/n asked while turning around.
Alastor, whose suit didn't look all THAT different from his usual one, studied them up and down. "You look delightful, fawn. Every single demon in that building will see green from jealousy."
"Thanks dad."
Despite the fact that cars were already owned by most citizens in the time Alastor was alive, he preferred to walk, even to such an important event as this. So, when the two off them arrived, they stepped in through a side door instead of the big red carpet where the limousines dropped off guests.
"Remember Y/n, don't talk to people you don't know and if something goes wrong, find me or Rosie." Alastor's antlers started to grow and static filled the air. "I'll destroy however dares to hurt you."
"Don't worry, dad. I'm an adult, I can take care of myself." They laughed off their dad's threatening stature. "But if something happens I can't handle, I'll go to you."
The ballroom was decorated with black gold and white. All kinds of denizens were roaming around, from high standing overlords to imp servants. There were no familiar faces. The only other overlord Y/n had ever met besides Alastor was Rosie. Even so they had immediately split up from Alastor in favour of exploring the buffet table.
After picking up a plate, they started picking the tastiest little snacks. There was even a few dishes with demon in them provided for the cannibals.
Vox had spent four hours making himself presentable in a fancy blue suit and a new screen protector. the other Vees had matched his style. So when the three stepped out of their high-tech car and got bombarded with paparazzi, it was clear that the three belonged together.
It isn't often that they had the chance to converse with other demons of their status. It was the perfect chance to make new connections.
Vox had gotten the chance with a few other demons before it happened. His eyes landed on the most beautiful person Vox had ever seen. Their looks hypnotized the tv-demon... Which was supposed to be HIS power.
"Hey Voxie, you never guess who I saw~... Voxie? Vox... VOX!" No matter how hard Valentino tried, he wasn't able to capture Vox's attention. "What are you looking at?..." Following his colleague's line of sight, Val's eyes landed on them too. "Oooohhh, I see~ Should I go talk to them for you, maybe I can convince them to stay the night in our bed."
Vox slightly buffered. "What! NO! I'm going myself, yeah, I can handle this myself."
Y/n was enjoying a lovely tea sandwich with raw, demon heart on it, when a person they didn't recognize came up to them.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." The man with a tv for a head grabbed their hand and placed a kiss on their hand. "I'm Vox, and you are?"
"Y/n, and it's a pleasure to meet you too," they introduced themselves before shoving another tea sandwich in their mouth.
"You must really like those sandwiches."
Y/n aggressively nodded her head. "YES! Here try one!" they shoved one of them in Vox's face who reluctantly eat it.
"Wow, that's... an unique flavour."
"Yeah, heart does taste very peculiar but I like it."
It put Vox off that the demon had spoken so casually about cannibalism, however, he was even more put off that he was just fed ACTUAL DEMON. So, when they weren't looking, he drank an entire glass of champagne in one go, hoping to wash off the taste.
"Anyway... I was hoping to dance with you." Vox offered out his hand but pulled it away again when he saw the dissapointment in their face.
"I would love too but I don't think my father would be happy to see me dancing with anyone. I'm sorry."
He thought about it for a few seconds. "Y'know I'm quite familiar with this place, there is a smaller ballroom a few doors down. If you want to, you could take me up on the offer there." The overlord suggested.
Normally, Y/n would've never said yes. Going to an empty room with a stranger who must have quite a lot of power. Only an idiot would follow him... Maybe they were a bit of an idiot but Y/n was intrigued by the man, so much so that they decided to go.
"Alright."
Hours went by while the two of them danced, talked and drank in the empty ballroom. Y/n felt themself falling deeper and deeper in love with the handsome stranger. The confident way he spoke, the way he buffered and glitched whenever he got flustered, the way he would get angry when they hurt his pride by laughing at his attempts to woo them. He was perfect.
"Now, tell me Vox. Who exactly are you? Like, I know you your name but you must have been invited for a reason, so...??" Y/n asked.
"You mean you really don't recognize me?" Vox asked flabbergasted. "I'm the CEO of VoxTech." The other demon still looked confused. "The biggest tech company of hell? We release new products almost every single day."
"I'm not big on modern technology, I died during the 1920's," Y/n explained, "I tried using a computer once and it didn't go well."
"Well, that's really no good. As a demon of high society, you should keep up with modern invention, if you ever want the help I don't mind teaching you how to use it." Vox stared at them lovingly. "You know what, I'll even give you a phone. Give your address and I'll send you on-"
"HEY! Vox!" A girl with pink and purple hair walked in. She wore a poofy pink dress and her face was covered in make-up. Her bloodshot red eyes landed on the person standing next to her friend. "Oooeeehhh, and who are you?"
"Velvette, Y/n. Y/n, Velvette." Vox introduced them to each other. "They have been great company tonight, right love?" He caressed the side of their face."
Y/n got redder and redder as the conversation went on. "Yeah, it was great."
"Well, sorry that I gotta burst your bubble." Velvette interrupted the sweet moment between the two. "But the Carmines are about to have their speech and you know how pissy those old fuckers get about shit like this."
Y/n looked at the clock hanging on the wall and realised they had been gone from the party for hours. "Yeah, I should really be going back too. My father is provably worried about me."
The three swiftly made their way back to the main ballroom, Velvette joking about the two lovebirds the whole time.
Once there, they gathered by the crowd standing around a podium. Carmilla was standing there, already holding her speech about the start of her company, the amazing growth and the future. Although a very basic speech, demons were at the fact that the Carmine had mentioned future dealings and couldn't wait for the opportunity to become a part of them. One of them seemed to be the handsome TV Demon that Y/n had hopelessly fallen in love with over the course of the evening.
"Excited I see," Y/n said while pointing to the electricity coming off of Vox, "I'm not sure that a deal with Carmilla is going to happen if you electrocuted her."
"Hey! I'm a great negotiator. Thank you very much!" The man joked.
Alastor had kept his child in his sight the whole evening.... Until he didn’t. They were right over by the buffet table just a second ago. Y/n couldn’t have gone far. So, he went on a search, but after an hour, he found nothing. He even asked Rosie for help but no luck. He had stayed looking until Carmilla started her speech and even then Alastor still kept an eye open for her.
What he never expected to see, was his child, his lovely, well-behaved, miracle of a child, to be joking around with his nemesis. And were they.... Blushing?
Static filled the air around him, symbols floated around his head. The terrifying shadow of his ever-growing antlers made every demon and demoness run out of his way.
Once he got really close he could hear their conversation.
"You're such a dork!" His child laughed.
Alastor could only see their back, but he knew what their smile looked like right now. Unlike his plastered smile that hid his emotions, Y/n's was genuine.
"I'm the dork? Have you se-" Vox's eyes drifted to the strange red symbols, when he noticed Alastor standing there. A small x on his forehead, eyes like dials and his smile wide.
Normally, during their fights Alastor would be somewhat lenient with him. He still roasted Vox to the living world and back but he never outright tried to murder him. This meant that he had never experienced the true wrath of the Radio Demon. But right in that moment, Vox felt like his days were numbered.
"Holy shit," Velvette muttered.
Noticing the two Vees were looking behind them, Y/n turned around and as soon as they did, Alastor switched back to normal like clockwork.
"Oh, hey dad!" Y/n greeted him sweetly. "What are you doing?"
"Oh nothing, little fawn," the Radio Demon spoke, distain clear in his tone of voice, "now tell me, why are you wasting your time conversing with such vermin? Especially, a styleless one like that insecure, copycat, picture box."
Vox was still staring between the two of them. Y/n was Alastor's child! The one the Radio host always talks about, the only thing that freak actually seems to care about. Why did it have to be them the overlord had fallen in love with at that ball?
"You are the Radio Demons child!" The man freaked out.
"I didn't think you would care about that..." Y/n's face turned into a frown, unlike their father’s whose grin only grew wider.
"I-I" The tv started buffering. " I don't..."
"Come one Y/n, let's find someone with more class." Alastor turned around, his child in toe.
"Wow, can't believe you got the hots for that man's child." Velvette quickly snapped a picture of Vox's stunned face and send it to Valentino. You'll never guess what happened. She typed under it.
Y/n looked down at their shoes, not wanting to see their father's victorious grin. "I can't believe you just did that."
"Whatever do you mean, little fawn?"
"You know what," they replied sounding angry this time, "why did you scare away the first real people I made friends with here in hell?!"
Y/n had never had an attitude before, never talked back, never even sounded annoyed. It scared Alastor for a few seconds. "That... Vox isn't the type of person you should make friends with'."
"Isn't that for me to decide?" Tears filled their eyes and their voice was strained. "I want to go home."
Once home, Y/n attempted to rush up the stairs but was stopped by Alastor’s shadow grabbing them by the arm. They were struggling to get away when Alastor cupped their face with his hands and looked suspiciously in their eyes. He was searching for something.
"Let go of me!" Their eyes glowed as they screamed.
When Y/n tried to pull away again, Alastor's grip tightened. "You've never acted like this before. He must have hypnotised you, so be a doll and let me find his spell!"
But no matter how much he searched for even a sign of demonic manipulation. Did Vox not hypnotize them? Then why were they.... Because of Alastor's second of confusion, Y/n could quickly pull away. They rushed up to their room and locked the door.
Alastor just stood there, stunned until a knock came from the door. He straightened his suit before opening it.
"Hi Alastor, I saw you two... Leave and thought you might need a listening-ear." Rosie stepped inside and made her way to the dining room. "Besides I could really use a cup of thee after such a long night."
"You know me too well, Rosie. I'll get some snacks too."
"They've never even raised their voice at me before but one hour with that noisy rectangle and Y/n is acting like a rebelious teen." Alastor took a bite from the index finger snack. "I tried to look for a sign of hypnosis but there was nothing. What did he do to them?"
"Ever thought about it that Vox didn't do anything?" Rosie suggested.
Alastor's pupils turned into dials. "Hmm? What did you just say?"
"Ya have to think about this differently." Rosie took a sip from her tea. "A demon always buried in their books with little to no interaction with the outside world goes out for the first time in years and meets a charming man who's interested in them. It's just like one those romance tropes they always reads about."
The other overlord considered it. "Then what do you suggest we do about it. How can I show them that they deserve much better?"
"First of all, have a conversation with them. A genuine one."
"And then?"
Rosie's smile showed her sharp teeth. "Then-"
Vox was still buffering from that crazy night. He fell in love with ALASTOR'S CHILD, for god's sake. He was connected to his advanced computer, rebooting his systems. Images of Y/n, memories he saved in his files, flashed over the many monitors in his room. The doors to his office opened revealing the other two Vees.
"Damn, Voxie. You've never had to reboot after we've 'hang out' before." Valentino leaned over his colleague's shoulder. "You aren't going to demote me from being your favourite, right?"
"I wouldn't sound so confident Val. Vox was pretty hooked last night, you should've seen him." Velvette pulled up the picture she took. "This photo doesn't do his obsession justice."
"Stop it, Velvette." The TV Demon unplugged himself from the computer set-up. "It's never going to work out anyway. And it's all that shitty, old demon's fault!"
"You really think that?" Velvette asked. "I mean, they looked pretty interested to me... You could always go over to them and explain yourself. Oh and while you're there, try to find a snoop that'll make my drama Sinstagram go viral."
"Voxie doesn't need them. Just stay with me and I'll make you forget them in just five minutes." The moth demon's cigarette smoke formed a heart.
The screen buffered once more. "Get out! The both of you."
"I'll wait in my room." The two Vees made their way out.
Once he was sure they were gone, Vox pulled up another file. Y/n's beautiful face showed on the screen and their addicting laugh filled the room.
Y/n sat against their door, crying. They could see the moon through the balcony window. It's red light filled the room. They couldn't believe their father had reacted like that. And they couldn't get the face Vox made when he released their connection to the Radio Demon out of their head. It plagued their mind since the moment it happened.
Their room seemed so small, so empty, so cold. Nothing had physically changed but mentally, emotionally, everything was different. They got a taste of that beautiful romance and it was taking away from them in the blink of an eye.
Y/n was so deep in their self-pity that they didn't notice the moonlight was blocked by something. They were jolted out of their own thoughts by a knock on the window.
Looking up they saw none other than Vox standing there. His suit was covered in dirt and branches that he got certainly caught in on his way there.
They quickly walked over to open the door, stumbling on their way.
"Y/n, I- uhm, you must find it weird that I show up on you balcony like this." Vox's screen got slightly red. "I wanted to apologize for this evening. I don't care who your father is, I- uhm I care about you."
"Vox, I need you to be honest with me. Did you hypnotize me?"
Y/n's sad look broke his heart. Who got into their head that he hypnotized them?
"Y/n, I didn't and I will never do it." He put his hand on their cheek. "I promise."
Blush decorated their face. "Then can you tell me what's going on between you and my dad?"
"Of course."
The two sat on their bed, cuddling. Vox had told them about everything. The start of their feud, his constant fighting with Alastor but also the fact that he fell in love with them at first sight. It was a lovely, domestic moment.
"One time I got so angry at your dad that I made a complete smear campaign against him. it didn't work out, he completely cut off all my broadcasts, all seventy channels."
"I think he once told me about that," Y/n laughed, "you get more under his skin then you think. Even before he saw he two of us together."
"If you say so..."
Their banter went on for hours. The two did their best to keep sounds to a minimum so Alastor wouldn't find out.
"Oh, before I leave, here." Vox handed them a white box. "it's a phone. I made sure to remove all spying devices and I programmed you a special assistant. It should help you figuring out how it works."
"You put spying devices in people's phones?"
"Uh-I"
"Don't worry, I get it. It's hell. There is no need to explain yourself."
"Right." Vox tried to laugh it off like Y/n was doing. "It's getting late, I should go. Wouldn't want the Radio Demon to know I'm meeting up with his daughter without a chaperone."
This time when Y/n was separated from Vox, they felt fine. Because they knew that he loved them. They were still longing for him, but not in a sad way. It was pure, romantic love.
Part 2
Masterlist/request guidelines
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel vox x reader#hazbin vox#vox x reader#vox x you#hazbin
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synopsizing the movie that plays in my head every time i listen to nascent by alexander panos
this probably isn't as interesting to read as it is for me to imagine in my own head, but i wanted to write it down. maybe u will have fun imagining it too
1. Q Windswept
This is the intro to the album, you pretty much get every flavor of sound that the album has to offer in one short burst. This is the title sequence & opening credits, where all the nonexistent animators & vfx artists would go. I imagine big bunches of text popping into existence with each impact.
2. Cycles
This track is in a weird spot, it's the longest one & it was made much earlier. It sounds like it's in a different world, so I treat it as an establishing montage of the human world. We're introduced to the protagonist, who I'll call Alex for convenience but doesn't necessarily represent the real life producer behind the music, represented by a live action human actor for the time being. The track feels like writer's block, frustration, pounding on a desk, (the domp domp bit) pacing around the room, moments of existential fear in between the doldrums of solitude, the wubs and crashes are a transformation that is barely being held back. Twilight depression montage.
3. Sutter
Sutter begins the purely synthetic "internal" portion of the record. We enter a liminal/metaphorical space. Alex spasms and transforms into a 2D animated dog furry while floating far above a green field with too much synthetic blue in its hue. Huge wide shots of Alex's body flying backwards with the artificial landscape in the background, hitting with those massive manipulated vocal hits. The track ends with him slowing and coming to a gentle rest on the grass.
4. 36523_red/blue
Alex opens his eyes, sees only the pure "blue screen of death" shade of blue in the sky. Abstract glitches and squiggles zap across the screen in time with the music. Alex is beginning to ruminate, represented by him drawing patterns with his paws in the sky as the track begins to pick up a consistent tempo. The glitches and patterns are played with his fingers, building in intensity until the climax shows a vast mirror that fills the entire sky approaching rapidly, and then slowing, the dog boy in the reflection growing until it comes face to face with the viewer, and then a cut to black.
5. reasonsnotto
Lights are out, audio-reactive abstract animations shudder into being with the synthetic voice, warping and pulsing with the track's modulations. In the moments when Alex's real voice pokes through the synthetic mush, his dog form coalesces, still blurry and struggling to become fully contiguous until the very end, where Alex sings the album's thesis directly to the camera, against a pure black background.
6. Dream Extinction
He breaks the mirror here, the impacts are his fists striking the surface and releasing burning waves of fire and electricity. At the end, the part with the consistent bursts, he begins clawing at his reflection, screaming, seizure inducing flashing lights imply that this hurts him too. As the track calms down, the mirror disintegrates.
7. Equinox (Prelude)
This track begins the portion of the album that is trying to claw itself back into reality. He's not there yet, beyond the mirror Alex finds another liminal space, a primordial river, and as the track builds, more concrete images begin to flash into existence before crumbling again. He can't get out, he doesn't want to get out. He shields his eyes, cut to black.
8. Equinox
This is the bit where Alex says a poem to himself and runs back to reality with all his might. Emphasize the "You flake, you human life" line, he says it with gritted canine teeth and his doggy ears lowered, resolved to claw back to his humanity. After that exalted rush of light and color passes, he opens a door, and slams it behind him.
9. catch it
This track is resurfacing, coming back to reality. The synthetic glitches fall back completely, icons of a city street come into existence, populating the white void in time with those guitar chords. Alex isn't visible yet, but the images are revealed to be the view outside his window. The POV shot looks down, and he sees his human hands again.
10. re:Turning
Ok, this part is so cliched & shmaltzy that it makes me embarrassed to write it out, but there's only one conclusion this story can have. The glitches re-emerge, the synthetic elements that were previously contained come back again. It's his fur. The dog re-emerges, Alex transforms again like a magical girl before opening his front door & singing the final hook, walking through a live action environment with shapes and colors from his liminal space following him. The paradox is resolved. He is multitude.
thanks for reading.
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𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍
summary: opening up about your insecurities is a daunting thing, but suna lets you know you’re in good hands
pairing: suna rintarou x afab! reader
warnings: smut/ comfort, minors dni; skin-related insecurities (acne, scars, bumps, etc) with comfort, unprotected sex (use condoms, don’t get a kid or a std), pet names (doll, pretty), marking, very wholesome spice if you can say that jsjsh, also very self indulgent; i wanted to name it ‘under my skin’ first, so now i have mirotic stuck in my head
happy birthday, rin!! ♡
haikyuu masterlist
Flickering colours illuminated your dimly lit living room in arrhythmic sequences, the voices of actors paired with underlying music bouncing around the apartment. Next to you, snuggled up under a cosy blanket with you, was your boyfriend, his eyes fixed on the TV but keeping you close to his side with an arm curled around your middle.
Leaning against his sturdy body, you sunk further into the hoodie you had stolen from his side of the closet earlier and you inhaled a noseful of the scent clinging to it, a familiar mixture of Suna’s body wash and cologne. Underneath you, you could feel his muscles flex and relax with every breath and every laugh and, inevitably, your mind drifted from the scenes on the screen to the man next to you.
There was no doubt about it, when it came to boyfriends, you somehow managed to snatch up the price catch all for yourself. Suna was attentive, caring and funny; he always checked in on you, brought food when he knew you hadn’t eaten, sent you photos, voice messages and even flowers when he was away for work and generally pestered you to take care of yourself.
Besides all of that, he was also, of course, ridiculously beautiful. Be it his well-built body showing through every outfit he wore, whether it was loungewear, work out clothes or a suit, or the defined features of his face, the sharp slant of his olive eyes only being the highlight, he was sure to garner attention. And he did. Quite a lot, actually. The fantaken videos of him sighted on the streets or the edits you scrolled past on your timeline definitely proved your point.
Still, Rin never made you feel unwanted, the opposite, really. You could be lazing around on the couch when Rin made it seem as if you were posing for the cover of Vogue, bending down to shower you in kisses as his hands wandered like he had no control over them. Or the way he’d sidle up behind you, leaning his weight onto you like an overgrown cat just to show you dumb videos while you go about what you were doing.
Your own mind, however, was not always as kind to you as your boyfriend.
Case and point, as you looked up at him and studied his sharp jaw and smooth skin, your thoughts started heading to a darker place, one you normally kept under tight lock and seal. Certainly, no matter how genuine his compliments were, there was no way he actually meant any of them, only trying to make you feel better about yourself. After all, what would someone like him see in someone like you?
A tap to the tip of your nose pulled you back into reality, blinking to see bright green eyes sparkling down at you. The arm around your waist adjusted its grip, allowing you to turn towards him better but holding you close again the second you had settled.
“What are you thinking about? The film’s not that deep of a thinkpiece.” The lighthearted tone and tiny smirk playing around his lips were contrasted by the inquisitive raise of a brow, letting you know he was quite serious about your answer. “And it’d better not be anything stupid.”
“Oh you know,” you vaguely gestured towards the screen as you avoided his gaze, “there’s just no way they could’ve made it out of that building before the bomb went up. That was so much longer than 30 seconds.”
There was a soft touch against your cheek where calloused fingertips tilted your head back towards him, not forcibly but determined. You were more starkly made aware of the heat radiating from his body as he leant further into you, the arm around your back giving you no chance to wind yourself out of his proximity. Under other circumstances there would absolutely be no way you’d want to in the first place. But you knew Rin was sharp enough to deduce exactly where your mind had gone if you gave him only the faintest of clues and you really didn’t want to disrupt your movie night with your insecurities.
“Very cute, doll, but you never pay attention to realism. Besides,” the ends of his hair tickled your face as his lips ghosted the shell of your ear, “do you really think I didn’t notice you burning holes into the side of my head? If there’s something you want, you only need to ask.”
“That’s what you got from that, Rin?” You laughed, pushing his head from the crook of your neck with the pad of your forefinger. “Could it be that you're projecting your own thoughts onto me?”
“What else could I be thinking about when someone this pretty has been clinging to my side the entire evening?” Your boyfriend hummed the question thoughtfully before your centre of gravity shifted. A surprised gasp later, you found yourself in his lap with your knees bracketing his hips, courtesy of the muscles flexing against the small of your back where he kept you pinned to his front. “You can’t blame a guy for getting ideas when you’re this cute.”
“You’re such a horndog, Rin,” you giggled, melting into his hold as his large palms smoothed out the material of his sweats covering your thighs, the repetitive motion relaxing as you lost yourself in each other’s eyes, despite having done so a million times before.
“It’s all your fault, doll,” Suna murmured and your gaze automatically tracked the movement of his mouth as it formed the words. Inspired by you, he mirrored the action and then his lips were on yours.
The kiss was slow and unhurried, your lips moving languidly against each other, giving you all the time in the world to bury your fingers in the hair of his nape. The swipe of his tongue asking for entry was accompanied by firm hands grabbing at your hips and pulling you so flush against him, it was like he wanted to become one entity altogether. You happily parted your lips for him so your tongues could tangle together in the same rhythm of his arms moving you to grind down on him.
When his warm hands explored the bare skin under his hoodie, however, it was like someone had sounded the alarm bells in your head. Sure, you’d been intimate with Suna plenty of times, that was nothing new, but so far, you’d avoided any positions where your back would be on display or his hands could roam too freely across it. Up until this point, you’d put up excuse after excuse and the brunet had respected your wishes but slowly you were running out of fronts to put up without addressing the real issue.
Over time, you’d gotten used to Suna seeing your face with all blemishes and impurities on display, more out of necessity than free will in the beginning. You couldn’t hide your face from him forever after all. In typical Rin fashion, he’d been so gentle and reassuring about it, thanking you for putting your trust in him and nearly making you cry in the process.
Your back, however, was an area you could cover up way easier and that was how you kept it. The thought of him seeing the redness and scars littering the expanse of the skin there, running his hands over it and feeling the bumpy texture where other people’s would be smooth, it made you shrink in on yourself. As you wrecked your brain for a new excuse and got ready to push his hands down to your hips again, he withdrew them from the hoodie himself, making the garment feel much too big on you as he took his warmth with him.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now,” Suna began, his voice calm as one hand settled back against your hip and the other cradled your cheek. Your fidgeting must have conveyed your discomfort, because he started drawing tiny circles onto your cheek bone, the callouses from years of playing volleyball contrasting the softness of his touch, making you subconsciously lean into the movement. “I didn’t know how to bring it up but at this point I feel like I need to know… Is there a reason you’re so reluctant to show me your back? And don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking about, I know you better than that.”
“Ah, so you noticed,” you meekly replied, swallowing hard around the words stuck in your throat. “What gave it away?”
“You’re not the best at lying to me, you know. It was pretty obvious you were making excuses for something else.” You felt like a cartoon character getting hit with an arrow through the stomach. “I just want to understand what’s putting you so on edge, so I can fix it. Whatever it is, you can tell me and I’ll work hard so you can trust me. But I won’t know what I did if you won’t tell me.”
“What you did?” You echoed incredibly. “Rin, you’ve done nothing wrong, more like the opposite, honestly. You’re like the guy out of anybody’s dreams, of course I trust you.”
“Then what is it? I don’t want to pressure you but I hate to see you uncomfortable,” Suna’s voice was soothing like a fireplace in winter as his finger smoothed out the furrow of your brows, silently telling you to take all the time you needed, he wouldn’t judge.
“It’s just– My back it’s so ugly,” you weakly admitted, opting to hide your face in the crook of his neck when holding eye contact became too painful. For a split second, Suna went as rigid as you had earlier before gingerly setting his hand down on the top of your back and running it lightly up and down to test your reaction. “Everyone has this perfect, smooth skin but mine is full of scarring and blemishes and I… I don’t want you to see how hideous I– it is.”
“Oh baby, that’s not true,” he soothed. “You are so stunning, I could never think you’re ugly.”
“No, you would,” you disagreed, shaking your head. “I already don’t know how you can say that with so much confidence, I don’t want to ultimately prove you wrong.”“So instead you just made the decision for me?” Ah, his signature deadpan response.
“Huh?”
“You are so convinced of your own perception you won’t even entertain the thought I could see something else entirely. I’m a lot of things but not a liar, doll. When I tell you you’re beautiful, I mean it.” To show he wasn’t taking offence at your words, he tapped the tip of your nose again when you emerged from your hiding spot to peer up at him. Bouncing you in his lap as if to jostle the negative thoughts from the forefront of your mind, mischief gleamed in his eyes. “Do you really think I’d put myself into this position just to make someone feel better? Usually, I only try to fuck unbelievably attractive people on my couch.”
“Oh my god, Rin! You’re such an idiot!” You were well aware your boyfriend had the tendency to be shamelessly blunt and it still made you smack your palms against his chest, though your shoulders did feel lighter at his very characteristic way of encouraging you. “Also we bought this couch together, so it’s mine as much as it’s yours.”
“The point still stands,” he nonchalantly answered, trailing one finger down the dip of your neck as his half-lidded eyes tracked its path before finding yours again. You knew that look well and it made your earlier arousal flare up again. “You’ll give me a chance to prove you wrong, won’t you, pretty? I promise you won’t regret it.”
You hesitated for a moment before mustering up all your courage. Suna had never betrayed the trust you placed in him and he’d not given you any reason to doubt him this time either. “Alright, fine.”
“Thank you.” You could feel his smile against your temple when he leaned forward to place a small peck there. “Hmm now where were we? Oh, that’s right.”
Long fingers splayed over the back of your head to tilt your head up so he could reconnect your lips once more. Just like before, the kiss started off slow and built in intensity until you were gasping for breath, a thread of a saliva connecting you until it broke from the rocking of your hips. Having foregone a bra that night, your nipples rubbed against the soft lining of the sweater, perking up from the friction.
This time, when his hands snuck under your clothes, you didn’t move to stop him, instead letting the warmth of his palms spread across your back. Slowly but steadily his touch rose higher, his fingertips nearly massaging the skin with the light pressure he was exerting. At the same time, his mouth moved south as if he wanted to meet his hands in the middle, trailing a hot path of kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw to just below your ear.
“The calluses of my hands, do they bother you?” A little disoriented by the low timbre of his voice and confused by the sudden question, you quickly made it known you liked them quite a lot, to which he chuckled. “See, at first, I was really insecure about it. Such rough hands handling something so precious, that didn’t seem right. But I learnt pretty quickly I was fussing about nothing, considering how you seem to love holding my hands or cumming all over my fingers.”
“That’s not a fair comparison,” you nearly whined, both at his choice of example and the way he bucked his hips up into yours. Your face felt as if it was set ablaze as his hands roamed and kneaded whatever part of skin they could find and your hips kept up a steady rhythm. “You have such nice hands, Rin.”“Something you made me aware of,” he smiled. When his lips reached the point where the collar of the hoodie wouldn't allow him to go any further, his hot breath fanned the expanse of your throat and his fingers played with the hem of his piece of clothing. “Let me do the same for you, yeah? Are you comfortable with taking this off?”
“Yeah,” you quietly affirmed, nodding your head at his request. With his help, the soft material slipped over your head and arms before being tossed somewhere next to the two of you and you fought hard to return your hands to his shoulders in lieu of covering up your bare body.
“Shit, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing these,” Suna groaned, cupping your breasts with appreciative hands, forefingers and thumbs immediately working on rolling your pert nipples between them as the other digits fondled the surrounding area. “Look how perfect these look in my hands, like they were made to be held by me.”
A soft sigh of his name escaped you as you tilted your head back at the sensation of his warm hands contrasting with the temperature of the living room. It drew his attention back to the exposed column of your neck, focusing on the task of sucking a pulsing bruise against the spot that he knew made you weak.
However, what you didn’t expect was him reaching around you to ghost his finger up the length of your spine, sending electricity right through you. Combined, the actions effortlessly pulled a gasp from you as you arched your back against his chest, which resulted in you pressing down hard against his bulge. His groan reverberated against your chest, a beautiful and husky sound which made you crave to hear more.
“Did that feel good? I bet it did,” Suna whispered against your feverish skin, fingers splaying out in the dip oy your back to keep you steady. “I can make you feel so much better, you know that. Just say the word.”
By now, your panties were probably soaked through as your clit pulsed with need, hips rocking in search for more friction but not getting enough to satisfy that itch inside of you. With how your heart was hammering against your ribcage, you could’ve bet Rin was able to feel it too, even through the material of his shirt. Balling the material in your fists you whimpered, “Rin, I need more, please.”
He grinned against your shoulder, pressing your chest tighter against his and grabbing the fat of your thigh with his free hand. Without any strain, he flipped you over so your back hit the couch cushions and he towered over your form, your legs still spread around his waist.
Running his hands down and back up the length of your legs, squeezing your thighs and calves appreciatively, his touch made goosebumps spread all across your body, no matter how seating it was on you. When his fingers reached the waistband of your sweatpants, playing with it as he leaned into your space, his heavy gaze met yours once more.
“Can I take these off?” No matter how clear it was you wanted this too, Suna would always ask. This night too, you willingly lay yourself in his hands as you lifted your hips to help him shimmy your pants off you, tossing them in the vague direction of the hoodie without taking his eyes off of you. He especially didn’t want to miss the string of slick sticking to your panties as they followed suit.
Drinking in the sight of your nude form, he traced a reverent finger over the seam where your legs met your hips, purposefully applying only a hint of pressure, knowing the featherlight touch was driving you positively insane. Slowly circling further in, he then caressed your outer lips covered in soft pubes, collecting your arousal with an experimental stroke over your slit but intentionally missing where you wanted him most.
“Rin, don’t tease,” you whined, squirming against the couch cushions.
“Sorry, doll, but you just look so pretty like this,” he mused, bright eyes showing not a hint of remorse. “I just have to indulge a little.”
And indulge he did. When he finally grazed his thumb over your neglected clit, his touch seemed to scorch, which only served to fuel the desire inside of you and it inevitably coaxed a wanton moan from you. Incredibly adept at reading you and keen to hear more of your sweet noises, Suna easily slid his middle finger into your hole, that at this point had been clenching around nothing. With how wet you were, he was met with no resistance at all and soon complied with your pleas for more and added his ring finger to the first.
“Shit, baby, you’re clinging to my fingers,” Suna voiced his thoughts as he smoothed one hand down the length of your leg once more to grab your ankle. Keeping up the steady pumps of his hand, curling his digits right into the spot that had your leg spasming in his hold, he turned his head to kiss the joint in his hold. However, he didn’t stop there.
As if your leg was a fuse and he was the fire, Suna leisurely crept his affections higher, over your calves and past your knees, until you really felt ready to explode. Dimpling the flesh under his fingertips, he tightened the hold on your thigh so he could suck a myriad of hickeys on its expanse, unbothered by your incessant writhing.
His hot breath fanned your core as his plush lips mapped out the juncture of your leg, paying careful attention to the area littered with stretch marks and covering the cause of some of your insecurities with his own marks. Like he wanted to claim your body as his, not that of the doubts in your mind. When he was satisfied with the blotches of red forming on your skin, he finally pulled back to admire his work.
“Have I been neglecting you lately?” Suna whispered, almost drowned out by the squelches of your pussy as he scissored his fingers. Looking up at you over the length of your heated body, he replaced his thumb with his kiss-swollen lips, placing a sweet peck against your clit and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. “Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it. You should never feel like this about yourself.”
“It’s not your fault, Rin,” you breathily reassured him only to be shushed by idle fingers dancing across your lower stomach, then precisely pressing down where his other hand was crooking up into.
“What kind of boyfriend lets his baby feel anything less than gorgeous?” Snaking one arm around your arched back, his long fingers covered a large part of it and held you steady against his chest as the coils in your stomach wound tighter and your toes curled at his sides. “I wish I could show you what I see. But since I can’t, I’ll have to settle for conveying it like this.”
His thumb had taken up its former spot again, resumed drawing firm figure eights on your clit and your nipples rubbed against the front of his shirt where Suna curled over you to reach your lips with his. Under the influence of his messy kiss, you felt like you were set ablaze as your boyfriend encouraged you to let go for him.
Someone might as well have replaced your blood with molten lava as your orgasm washed over you with fiery intensity and sweat pearled on your temple. Your arms slung around his body as your hands searched for whatever they could grab to hold on, be it the muscles of his shoulder or his dishevelled dark locks. Your lungs were already burning with the need for air but if you stopped kissing him, stopped vocalising your pleasure right for him to swallow it up, you thought you might die.
Suna kept up his ministrations until you were trembling like a candle in the wind before he even considered pulling his fingers from you. With half lidded eyes you watched as he brought the digits up to his mouth, cleaning up your mess with slightly exaggerated lewdness and moaning at your taste.
As he sat back up, he kept you flush against him and returned you to the position that started this all. Only this time your heightened sensitivity made you hyper aware of his arousal underneath you.
“How are you feeling, pretty?” Nosing the crook of your neck lovingly, Suna nibbled on your salty skin where your quickened pulse thrummed underneath. His strong hands massaged your sides as you caught your breath and willed your chest to stop heaving. “Do you want to keep going?”
“You can’t do all of that and then deny me this,” you laughed breathlessly as you rolled your hips into his prominent bulge which caused him to inhale sharply. On top of everything, your boyfriend was also fucking hung, something his sweats didn’t hide in the slightest. “But I need you to take this off first.”
“Your wish is my command,” he chuckled, shrugging the shirt over his head unceremoniously, his biceps and triceps flexing in the process. While he busied himself with untangling himself from his pants, you ran an appreciative hand over the firm planes of his abs and up his pectorals. “Like what you see?”
“You know I do,” you mused, pressing a kiss against his jaw. “Got so lucky with you.”
“Hey, that’s my line,” Suna smiled, letting his hands roam over every dip and curve of your body as he urged you to straddle him again. Wasting no time, you started rocking yourself over his length, gasping every time his head caught your clit while you covered him in your arousal. After starving himself of stimulation earlier to focus entirely on you, your boyfriend shuddered at the contact. “You already feel so good doll, how am I supposed to last like this?”
“It’s okay, I want you to feel good too, Rin,” you stated but your movement was promptly stopped by two heavy hands on your hips. There was a subtle flush decorating his complexion and your heart skipped a beat. Was he really this affected just because of you?
“As tempting as that sounds, tonight is all about you. No room to argue.” There was a tender finality in his tone, one that made clear he really wouldn’t budge on the topic, so you relented and melted into his hold. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Yes, this wasn’t the first time you’d been intimate with Suna, but it still felt like it. Every time he sunk his cock into you the stretch had you tossing your head back. From the way his thick tip slowly breached the tight ring of muscle, to the pleasant friction of his veins sliding against your walls and the satisfying feeling of being stuffed full, you believed you’d never get used to it.
“You always take me so well,” Suna panted as he bottomed out, fingers flexing against the pudge of your ass as he willed himself to patience to let you adjust to his girth, no matter how heavenly your warm cunt felt enveloping him.
“Fuck Rin, I need you to move. Please, I–” Your brows were furrowed and you supported yourself on his chest as you started circling your hips against his while his cock pressed against all your sensitive spots so nicely.
And who was he to deny you when you asked so sweetly?
Starting with slow and deliberate thrusts, you both knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. While Suna normally prided himself on patience, even his was running thin by now and soon after, the rhythmic slapping of your thighs on his echoed around your apartment as he effortlessly moved you up and down on him, each thrust seemingly deeper as the previous one.
Not able to keep yourself upright for much longer, you slumped against his equally sweat-slicked chest and surrendered yourself completely to his actions, opting instead to claw at his back every time a particularly well aimed stroke had you clench your eyes shut. It was the best kind of torture and if you were exposed to it for too long you might actually go mad.
With your head nestled in the crook of his neck it gave Suna the perfect view down your back, admiring the way it bowed so graciously against his broad body or how your ass bounced with each slap of his thighs. How you were able to see anything but your beauty was something he just couldn't get behind; not because he was without insecurities but because no part of you could ever be a flaw in his eyes. Not when it made you who you were.
His fingers fluttered over the curve of your spine again, eliciting a more visceral reaction as your body shuddered and you pressed yourself tighter against him, trying to evade his searing touch while simultaneously craving more of it. Your whole body felt like you were boiling from the inside out, every part his scorching hands touched sizzling with nerves.
The constant grind of his pelvis against your clit had your walls gripping his length like a vice, making it increasingly harder for your boyfriend to pull out, let alone hold his own release back for much longer. Dipping his head down with a groan, his lips connected with your shoulder as his fingers kneaded and fondled wherever he could reach. Perhaps by the time you woke up tomorrow you wouldn’t see the blemishes you agonised over but the imprint of his fingers on your waist or the love bites littering your shoulder.
“If you don’t like these marks, I guess it’s on me to cover them with my own,” he mumbled lowly, perhaps more to himself than to you. Either way, the deep rumble of his voice so close to your ear followed by the sound of him reattaching his lips where he had left off shot down your spine like a lightning bolt. “You’re close, aren’t you? C’mon, you can do it. Show me how beautiful you are when you cream on my cock.”
The effect Suna’s voice and words had over you should maybe concern you. But you didn’t care as you came for the second time this night with a cry of his name on your lips, weightless as your boyfriend rode out your orgasm while chasing his own. Just as you came down from the aftershock of pleasure, Suna pushed inside of you as far as he could and painted your insides white.
For a few minutes, neither of you said anything, content to stay lost in the feeling of the other as two sets of hands explored the shared silhouette of your bodies. Kisses were exchanged or randomly placed wherever you could reach, Suna caressed your sides and you swept sweaty bangs out of his eyes.
“So,” Rin broke the comfortable silence, “are you still hellbent on arguing with me on this?”
Picking up his hint of playfulness, you decided to lean into it. “Hmm I dunno, the jury’s still out.”
“I thought you might say something like this,” he chuckled, pinching your side between his eyes, resulting in you yelping in surprise and sending him a half-hearted glare which was only returned in mischief. “Good thing I already planned to bend you over the back of the couch and paint your back. Bet you’d look lovely, even if you can’t get any more gorgeous than you already are. Same place and time tomorrow work for you?”
“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” You laughed at his shrugged ‘Might have mentioned it before’ before leaning up for a brief peck. “But sure, I’ll clear my schedule for you.”
After your movie night had effectively been rebranded into a shared bath Suna had drawn for you, you let the warm water rinse away most of the soreness you felt in the moment. Despite the tub being a rather snug fit with your professional athlete occupying a big chunk of it by himself, you let yourself relax against his chest.
Rin had taken it upon himself to gently scrub your body down for you, being extra careful with any of the spots he might have been a little rougher on. When it was time to dry off, he took his time to shower your back in kisses; every mark he left, every scar, every blemish, he covered them all equally in his affection and adoration.
“I love you,” he murmured when his eyes met yours through the mirror and he tangled your fingers together. “I would never dream to change a single thing about you.”
“I love you too,” you whispered back, like it was a secret only meant for his ears. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”
“It’s nothing you have to thank me for.” Suna brought your hand up to his lips to leave a lingering kiss there too. “I’m just doing what any good boyfriend should.”
Later in bed:
“How much did you have to hold back from saying ‘I’ve got your back’?”
“You have no idea.”
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Been a Thorn in the Side of Man (Yandere!Elvis x Reader)
Summary: In her twenty years of the business, Jimena’s seen just about the worst Hollywood has to offer. However all of that failed to prepare her for the likes of Elvis Presley.
A/N: Yikes on bikes, this took alot longer than I was expecting. I would like to personally thank @stylespresleyhearted for keeping me motivated to write and allowing me to bounce ideas off her and on top of all of that making the beautiful mood board above. I was just able to release this on my birthday so there's that lol. Based off of this request.
Warnings: Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of obsessive, manipulative, jealous, and delusional behavior. Dubious Consent in regards to coersion being involved. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes Penetrative sex (m/f), oral sex (f.recieving), doggy style and mating press, and not to mention huge breeding kink on his part. BIG TRIGGER Warning for some suicidal ideation on his part. Loss of family members. Drug overdose. Mentions of Pregnancy. Self-loathing. Probably more that I am blanking on. Please do not interact if you are under 18.
Word Count: I’m gonna be honest, stopped counting after 30K (don’t judge me)
Then
There’s an odd sense of calm once one officially accepts that they’re alone in the world. It’s easier in a way to accept that no one will ever truly look out for her, than it is to have to face the earth-shattering disappointment that is having believed for a moment that someone would.
These are the thoughts going through her head as Jimi slowly folded her daily copy of the Excelsior.
Most women would be violently mad after having read what she just did, but it was almost a relief to finally have an answer to why he has really been so absent in her life these last few months. It’s not like it should be surprising to her really, this town having shown her for years what it thinks about women like her: Seductive, temptress, exotic, temperamental, alluring… disposable.
It’s a story told time and time again in Los Angeles. Orson Welles and Dolores Huerta, Gary Cooper and Lupe Velez, and now Elvis Presely and Jimena Perez can be added to those ranks of doomed romances.
I’d rather kiss three black women than a single Mexican woman, those are the words that ring within Jimenas head as she sits at her little breakfast table, though for what it’s worth it is nothing less than a deliberate action. As masochistic as it sounds she truly believes it’s for the better should she ever get to thinking this situation is in any way fixable.
But even still as she stares unblinkingly at the plain wall of her just recently occupied home, she is a little confused as to why her vision gets cloudy. It takes her a moment to comprehend that she’s crying, something that she so rarely does these days anymore.
And to think this is all over some musician.
She’ll never forget the first time she met him in person, all the standard camera and makeup testing that comes from early production. She’s far from the most experienced makeup assistant at Paramount, but in their words she’s the only makeup girl they trust to “behave” around him. Having grown up in the business, Jimena’s all but lost her ability to be starstruck by anybody really, so they’re not too far off in this notion.
As they were explaining the whole purpose of this to the relatively green actor, she looked at him with a critical eye, examining his features, comparing it to other actors she had already worked on in the past, and trying to recall how best to highlight them on screen.
He catches her looking at him and he shoots her a wicked smile, but where other girls would’ve gotten embarrassed at being caught staring she only redoubles her efforts now that she’s got a better look at his face, arguably staring even harder at him. In a funny turn of events he’s the one that looks away bashfully as though she were the one that caught him looking.
While her official production title is as the resident makeup artist, she’s personally worked almost every job there is to have on a set save for actually sitting in the big chair and directing. Lights, costuming, talent wrangling, she’s seen and done just about all of it. She had been working behind the scenes since she was 14, where with a little bit of makeup trickery, she was not only able to convince everybody that she was an adult, but that she was the new hire. This would eventually give way to getting actually hired, as they simply trusted the fact given she was already on the lot.
And somewhere between watching Dorothy Gale throw up in her own purse and seeing Rhett Butler remove his own teeth, did the whole concept of Hollywood movie magic well and truly die in her mind.
Drugs, drinks, boys, girls, and every other vice to be had, Jimena’s seen even the most clean cut of stars fall into at least one category or another. So when she got the news she was gonna be on a project with him of all people, she had thought she had well and truly prepared for anything this man could throw her way.
But when she actually gets a good up-close look at him, she starts to get that sinking feeling in her stomach. Not for anything he did or how he looked, but the way he acted. She heard his stuttering words and felt his soft cheeks in her hands, and there was only one thought in her head throughout the whole process.
Pobrecito they’re gonna eat you alive.
All her years in this business, she’s got a pretty good grasp when people are being genuine or not. And he’s perhaps the most genuine person she had ever encountered. Wide-eyed bumpkin from down south was hardly new, but there was just something about Elvis Presley that made it a tinge more tragic than it would be normally.
She barely spoke that first meeting, the higher ups weren’t that interested in her words these days, nor did he really try to initiate anymore conversation with the way his mouth was gaping at her. Hardly a new experience, but admittedly a little less unwelcome coming from him.
So it took her by surprise the first day of shooting when he said “I didn’t get the pleasure of catchin’ your name last time,” he said with a grin as she set down her make-up kit.
She’s quick to recover with a “Because I didn’t give it.”
He gives a short huff at that before insisting once again since after all, she’s gonna be around him for the next ten or so weeks.
“You can call me Jimi,” she says, barely sparing him a glance in favor of looking over the notes of what today’s scene will call for.
“That really your name sweetheart?” which is not unfair to ask. It wasn’t her first choice, but it is the one that distanced her the most from her old stage name.
“White people can’t pronounce it,” she justified as she tied her hair up with her favorite red bandana. “So I don’t bother with it here.” It’s sort of the truth, and that’s usually enough to get even the more obnoxiously “nice” ones off her back.
“Well I’m willing to give it a shot,” he says amiably, apparently up for the challenge that she presents.
She takes his chin in her hands and with a soft smile on her lips, and while he’s blushing up a storm she looks down at him and says a simple “No.”
He’s taken aback both by her words and the sudden spray of water from the bottle in her hand. She could’ve given a cursory warning to him but she has to remind herself that this entire situation works best when actors are indifferent towards her.
It’s for the best, she tells herself. The less you say about yourself, the better, she wants nothing more than to keep her Mena and Nena days far in the past.
Though it soon became clear that it wasn’t meant to be.
“Y’know…” he starts off as he’s looking at her in the mirror. “Ya kinda look like that one girl, uhh what’s her name.” He says snapping his fingers trying to force him to remember even though you know for a fact who he’s talking about. “Elena Somethin’.”
“Elena Leon?” she sighs, knowing already where this is going.
“That’s the one,” he would say, snapping his fingers in recognition. “Though, ‘tween the two of ya’, I think you’re the prettier one.”
“Hmm…” she answers, pursing her lips and practically shutting down as he quickly changes the subject to how excited he is to be working on another movie set. She didn’t engage much after that outside of the occasional hum of acknowledgement, until he eventually gave-up and would forlornly read his script.
That wouldn’t stop him the next day from telling her about how his dumbass cousin made him late this morning and all the antics they get up to back in Memphis.
Or the next when he asked if Pink’s was actually any good or if it’s all just hype.
So on and so forth for the next few days as he would try to get her to talk to him again.
She had been determined to just treat him like any other actor she had worked with, and just do her job, but then she saw him getting really cozy with a certain girl on set. Now on-set flings are par for the course on any production, and literally anyone else she wouldn’t have batted an eye, but she knows for a fact that that one is known to be dangerous. Well she’s not so dangerous, but her husband is.
“Stay away from her,” she would whisper to him one day as she applied some eyeshadow trying to imitate a black eye.
“So you do speak,” he says, cracking an eye open, a triumphant smile on his face as though he’s won some great victory over her.
“Yes, so listen to me,” she counters, her eyes boring into his to show him how serious she is.
“Why do you care so much darlin’?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips, still apparently not taking her seriously.
“My job is to keep you pretty for the cameras,” she states, in as matter of fact as she can manage. “You’re going to make that a lot harder if you don’t listen to me, and her husband beats the shit out of you.”
“She’s married?” he asked, astonished that he could miss such a thing. “M-my manager said she could get me some good roles, that her Daddy is some big-time producer” he argues back.
“Yes,” Jimena clarifies. “Her husband, who she calls daddy, can get you one very high paying role, and that’s only if you let him watch. If your manager didn’t know this, he’s a dumbass.”
“Let him watch what?” he asks, confused. Her pursed lips, refusal to meet his eyes, and following silence speaks volumes, as his own cobalt eyes go comically wide as to what she was implying. “Her husband?” he says, and she gives him a small affirmative nod. “And he watches?” A raise of her brows as her eyes slide away from him just reaffirms this unorthodox situation. “So… Wait a second… does he or does he not like it when she’s with other men?”
“Both,” she states, adding the finishing touches to her work. “He likes to watch and after that he beats the shit out of the boy in question.” And even though she’s pretty secure in the fact that no one is listening in, she still gets close to him to whisper this last part into his ear. “It’s apparently the only way he can get it up anymore.”
The fact that she sees his ears go bright red from just that little tidbit of information just really goes to show how green he still is in regards to how things work in this town.
“How d’ya know all this?” he asks, more than a little disturbed now.
Not to brag but she regards herself as a wealth of information on the comings and goings of the Hollywood elite. Close enough to the action to overhear everything but low enough in the pecking order that most assume she’s incapable of doing anything about it.
But this is basic information that even the lowliest of extras were privy to, so you can’t fathom how a man with a near meteoric rise to stardom wouldn’t know this.
“Are you kidding?” she would in turn ask him. “Everybody knows.”
“Wait if everybody knows then why doesn’t anyone put a stop to it?” he asks, trying to find logic in a city not exactly known for it.
“Because the only thing more powerful than secrets in this town is money, and he’s got a lot to keep everyone quiet.”
Besides it’s only a matter of time before something gives in that tragedy waiting to happen. From all the whisperings Jimena’s been hearing, the girl in question has been keeping some rendezvous’ secret from her husband and more or less bragging that there’s no prenup in place. While he in turn has turned his eyes to some pretty little barely legal extra, he’s also very Catholic, doesn’t believe in divorce, and has rumored connections to the mob.
Not even a week later did she hear whisperings that the very same producer had quickly sold all his stock in Paramount and decided to retire to the French Riviera with his wife seemingly overnight though there are conflicting reports as to whether or not she was seen at the airport. Coincidentally no one has seen hide nor hair from the last lowly actor she was seen running around with.
Usually she kept her mouth shut about the dirtier details of an incident of this magnitude, but she couldn't help herself when she let him know the full extent as to the bullet he had dodged.
“That's why you don’t get involved with fixers wives,” she says simply as she grabs the spray bottle for his hair, a little more secure in the knowledge that he isn’t so green anymore.
“Fixers?” he asks, and she laughs initially thinking he’s pretending to not know as is the custom when somebody on the outside asks about them. But then she sees he’s not laughing along with her, and his confusion is genuine.
“You are not kidding are you?” she asks incredulously, truly hoping that this man is not so naive.
“Can’t say that I am,” he replies.
Now she has two options, mind her own business and let this boy sink or swim on his own, or enlighten him to the dark underbelly of what it takes to make it in this town. Jimena had spent the last few years keeping her ear to the ground and gathering as much information as she could to one day be able to leverage it to help one person specifically… but that person hasn’t wanted much to do with her lately.
Still she finds herself leaning more into the staying in her lane option, that is until his wide ocean blue eyes turn towards her, and she feels like a monster for the thought.
“Well everybody around here has a job, and it’s to make movies that make money. Your job is to make the studio look good on and off screen so people spend money to see these movies,” she says as she runs a comb through his hair. “And when you fuck that up, it’s the fixers job to cover it up.”
“When?” he repeated, clearly a little offended.
“Yes, when,” she clarified. “Get caught with a boy, get caught holding something you’re not supposed to, get a mistress pregnant, get a ‘social’ disease, or hell, even find yourself with a dead body on your hands, you just gotta call the right producer and they make it all disappear.” She knows she’s being pretty blunt with the subject but she has been in the business pretty much right out of the womb, so she’s seen some of the worst shit this town has to offer.
Over the next few weeks she does her best to let him in on the need to know knowledge that is necessary to survive not just in Paramount, but in Hollywood as a whole.
“If you work with John, he’ll call you a communist for stirring your coffee the wrong way so I would avoid him. Canter’s is actually the place you want to go to for great food, Pink’s is just okay. Gable’s breath smells like death, but he will bury you if you ever mention it. Umm…” she says trying to recall any other helpful advice, though stops when she sees his overwhelmed expression. “Am I going too fast?”
He quickly schools his expression, back into one a more affable look, “Nothin’ you gotta worry ‘bout darlin’”
She is not buying it though.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, unwilling to believe his dismissal. He clammed up even more and looked straight into the mirror until she sat herself right in front of him, crossed your arms, raised an eyebrow, and gave him a look telling him she wasn't about to drop this.
It’s a bit of a standoff until he eventually lets out a long breath and looks out the window to the awaiting set outside of his trailer, “I don’t know Jimi…” he sighs. “Guess I’m just feelin’ some type a way doin’ all this.”
“Why?” she asks, not really thinking.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for acting.”
She simply gives a sympathetic shrug of her shoulders, and simply states, “You could be better.”
He blinks, apparently caught off guard by her bluntness. “You just get right to the point, don'tcha darlin’,” he says with a smile.
“Hey if you want someone to kiss your ass, you would’ve been better off asking literally anyone else.”
He gives a snort but the tight smile tells her she’s hit the nail on the head. “Alright then sweetheart, what’dya think I’m doin’ wrong?” he asks genuinely.
Part of her wants to give a very pithy “everything,” but the other part of her is a little thrown for the fact that he is not only listening but actively asking for her advice on the matter. Granted she’s far from an expert considering she hasn’t done it in years, but she’s worked with some of the “greats’ to be confident enough in her ability to know good acting from bad. Besides she’s already going out of her way to let him in on the secrets of this town, so what’s an acting lesson or two.
“Well for one thing, it’s called acting,” she emphasizes, “Not Wording.”
“I-I don’t follow.”
“Look… anybody can simply say the lines, but it’s an actor that can bring a character to life. You gotta be able to get comfortable with the fact that you’re not only being heard, but you’re being seen.”
“Sweetheart everybody sees me.”
“Yeah and you’re in charge of how you want to be seen,” she says. “Do you know why I wear the same red bandana everyday?”
“I was thinkin’ cuz you were tryin’ ta hide a bald spot,” he answers, which earns him a swift punch to the nipple.
“I wear it because my options are to be known as the mexican girl or as the bandana girl,”
“So right now they’re seeing you Elvis, not Deke,” she sighs. “Say what you want about Brando and his annoying refusal to learn his goddamn lines, but he makes you believe every word that comes out of his mouth, because he believes what he’s saying at that moment…Speaking of Brando,” she pivots hard before she gets too passionate about the topic of acting and gives herself away. “Never get into a pissing contest with him. That’s how Anthony Quinn lost out on being a leading man… and I do mean a pissing contest in the most literal sense.”
“I’ll take ya word for it Jimi, but you sure do know alot ‘bout bein’ an actor,” he says giving her a once over that she can’t quite read. “You eva try bein’ one before?”
“You could say that,” she remarks, silently praying he doesn’t ask why she does have these skills. He’d already noticed over the past few weeks how she would be roped into fixing problems that were well beyond the paygrade of the average make-up girl like jumpstarting golf cars or fixing light fixtures. His attention is a bit infuriating, considering she feels she does her best work unnoticed. “When you've been in the business as long as I have, you learn a thing or two.”
“So how long you been in the business?”
Without missing a beat. “50 years.”
He gives a double take at that, and she’s pretty sure he’s trying to discern whether she’s lying or not. She’s not helping whatsoever with her usual neutral demeanor, until for the first time in years she does crack a bit of a smile at him, as she snipes with a, “I’m a very good make-up girl.”
He laughs at that “So you’ll tell me you’re real age but not your real name darlin’?
“Never.”
He gives an amused snort at that but the nice moment is interrupted when one of the PA’s pulls her away so she can help restart Gleason’s heart after his partner apparently got a little too enthusiastic about choking him mid-orgasm.
After that the relationship between the two seemed to ease up a bit. He no longer felt the need to posture in front of her and they developed something of a -dare she say it- friendship with one another. For her, it’s a pretty novel experience to actually be heard on set for once, and the closer they got she got the sense that he may understand that feeling more than he would like to let on.
“Any news?” he would ask, knowing full well that she always has the best stories on set. She doesn’t really talk to any of the other actors on set, and they in turn don’t really notice her, so they are a lot freer with their words when they speak with one another in front of her.
“So… you didn’t hear it from me,” you say as you begin to wet his hair. “But apparently a certain Superman is on his way out and was seen with a younger girl in New York, and Toni is not taking it well.”
“And Toni’s husband?”
“Taking it worse,” she says simply as she readies the eyeliner. “This was always going to happen, but I don’t think it’s the end of it.” she promises, which would be proven right a few years down the line when George “mysteriously” ended up with a bullet in his head.
“You’re the reason I don't even bother with them papers no more,” he remarks.
“They’re not all trash,” you defend. “There’s almost always a little bit of truth in them.”
“Speakin’ a rumors,” he continues. “I think I finally figured out why you look like Elena Leon so much?” he says, oh-so casually trying to maintain his innocence.
She stops combing through his hair, knowing that the jig was up.
“Who told you?” she asks, trying to mentally prepare herself for the same three things everyone said when they did find out. It’s always an awkward subject to bring up especially as it brings up some painful memories of long hours and relationships that have yet to recover.
“Y’know me and my mama used to watch your movies,” he says with an annoyingly charming smile.
1,
“I’m glad,” she says in the most neutral tone.
“Lord I never could’ve expected to meet you here, workin’ behind the scenes. You ever think about actin’ again?”
2.
“Oh my sister is the actress now,” she said affably. Something well-rehearsed and practically scorched into her brain since Jimena started working on sets when she was fifteen was to always talk up Elena to anybody who would listen.
“Well thas a cryin’ shame sweetheart,” he says with a rakish grin on his face. “You were always my favorite.”
That’s new, she thought. Usually they ask her to do the old catchphrase. That or men tend to get weird around the idea of women who look almost exactly the same.
But the idea of being the favorite is… different. Like every other relationship, she has a complicated one with the idea of being seen. But the idea of Elvis being the one to look at her is somewhere between exciting and terrifying, and it has her heart beating just a little bit faster.
“Why didn’tcha go back?” he continues. She kind of understands where his curiosity comes from, as someone who so desperately wanted to break into the Hollywood scene it would probably be hard to comprehend someone who knew it and rejected it.
The Leon Twins were the biggest little things since Shirley Temple. With their indistinguishable looks and charming, if slightly demeaning, premise of one sister only able to speak Spanish with the other, only English, MGM was able to pump out over thirty various movies and shorts starring the adorable little Mena and Nena and their hijinx.
How is she supposed to explain how her mother made the unilateral decision that her sister was the “good” one and thus the one she decided would have the solo career after Jimena had the gall to go into puberty first and become slightly more distinguishable than her younger sister. Or how she hasn't talked to her sister in months despite the fact they both still live with their mother, and neither of them have acknowledged this. Or how the reason she took this job in the first place was to better lookout for said sister who isn’t talking to her.
How she sees fame as a beast of madness and obsession that will consume her given half a chance as it did with her mother and now her sister. But movies are all she’s ever known and the idea of leaving seems scarier than it is to stay.
How the thought of having so many eyes on her once again makes her practically want to claw her skin off and she’d rather die than ever willingly step back into that arena.
She doesn't say any of that, instead she simply says, “Got tired of it,” as she puts the finishing touches on his hair. “I had my time in front of the camera,” and hated every second of it, she thought. “And I think I’m better suited behind it,” and you give a dramatic turn of his chair so that he could face the mirror. “As you can see.”
“Yeah,” he says, taking the hand you placed on his shoulder and looking back up at you. “I don’t know what’d I do without ya sweetheart.”
Seeing his cobalt blue eyes bore into her own, Jimena feels her face heat up, though mercifully it’s hidden under her darker complexion. If Elvis notices her change, he doesn't acknowledge it, and mercifully that is when one of the PA’s calls him to the sound stage.
Once he’s out she sprays her own face with a bottle to get herself under control.
In spite of her typically neutral regard for actors there’s just simply something about Elvis Presley that just made her want to throw that all away.
She had sworn to herself to never get involved with actors, she had seen this song and dance play out many a times before. It comes in different flavors, but the final scene is always the same at the end of the day: the famous white man never chooses the latin girl to be his wife. Arm-candy? Definitely. Date? Yes. Long-time Girlfriend? Sure. Fiance with a wedding date never set? Maybe. Mistress? Obviously. But never the wife.
Besides, it was the tail-end of shooting and it’s unlikely she was ever gonna work with him again so she decided to just stamp these feelings down and hope they went away. She was afterall an actress once, she can act like he doesn’t have an affect on her now.
Though this was blown out of the water on the last day of shooting and he would not only pull her next to him for the cast wrap-up picture, but he would also slip an invitation to the wrap-party in her purse. She had gone home hoping to take a nap and forget about Elvis Presley, only for the next curveball of her day to occur.
“Should we match for the party?” Elena would ask, holding up said invitation.
“...did… did you look through my purse to find that?”
“We better start getting ready,” her sister would say, completely bypassing the question. “After all it’s not everyday that Hollywood gets a Leon Twins reunion.”
“...yeah, I-I don’t think going would be…”
“Meeeennnnnaaaa…” she whines, completely abusing the fact that she is the only one allowed to use that name and not catch a fist to the face. “We need to go together, because why else would they just invite a makeup girl to a wrap party?”
Why else indeed? She thinks and she actively has to scrub the way he looked at her out of her mind lest she get any other ideas.
“Besides,” she says, giving Jimena a light shove on the shoulder. “You still owe me for never introducing me to James Dean.”
“I barely knew him,” she argues back, which is the truth. He only vaguely knew her as “Snake girl” when she was working as a PA for one of his movies. The closest she ever got to him was after she managed to save him, Rock, and Liz from a snake that had trapped them in his trailer and their subsequent thank-you’s being signed photos of each of them that they had their assistants bring to her. There’s a certain irony in the fact that of the few movies to depict the plight of Mexican-Americans in the US, they had no problem giving her, one of the few Mexican crew members, the most dangerous task because everybody else was too valuable to lose.
Looking at her sister, her reflection in many ways, she feels her resolve begin to waiver a bit. Nena was her first job in a sense, as being the older sister it was Jimena’s responsibility to look out for her first and foremost. She took it so seriously that she’s still doing it to this day.
They have always been so intrinsically entwined as an act. Their tiny hand prints immortalized in front of Grauman’s and the child-sized oscar with both of their names somewhere around here prove that much. But Elena now struggles to find that same level of fame as before, and secretly Jimena doubts that this will ever be possible.
She couldn’t understand it but Jimena could see the reason as clear as day.
There’s an unspoken rule about being a latin or black actress in Hollywood when you’re not the star of the show: Never outshine the white leading ladies, because it has to be believable that the white leading man chooses the leading lady.
Joan Crawford was bad enough with actresses who had the gall to be simply younger than her, but she was especially vicious toward the ones who had skin tone darker than ivory. Jimena remembers one harrowing set where this one little Cuban extra had made the awful mistake of approaching Joan and saying how she wanted to be as big a star as her one day.
They never did find her ear, and Jimena had made it a point to stop wearing hoop earrings on set altogether. The whole incident was swept under the rug after “someone” accused the poor girl of being a communist, and they did who knows what with her. But that just confirmed her and other girls like her are unlikely to be protected on set no matter how valuable you make yourself.
Jimena told her sister this story, warning her to dull herself down a bit during auditions, if only to get her foot in the door and get more consistent work as secondary characters. And it was working for a time, but she wasn’t seeing the kind of work she wanted and she largely blamed Jimena for it because of her warnings to play it safe.
In fact the source of their recent falling out was when Jimena had tried to convince her to try out cinema in Italy or Mexico or literally anywhere else in the world and use that as a branching off point to get an in in Hollywood. She flat out refused saying how she “doesn’t want to die in obscurity like you.” They didn’t talk for a solid month after that and since then it was only the barest of communication between them.
“Imagine if I was seen with Elvis Presley,” she said now, with stars in her eyes. “The roles would come pouring in after that.”
For all that it left a sour taste in her mouth, Jimena could understand the logic of wanting to latch on to someone who's already getting up there in terms of fame. Fuck the studios themselves sometimes set up these types of arrangements, all for the sake of promoting up and comers.
And the fact he invited her in the first place, probably means he had something else on his mind for the evening. Besides he’s apparently been a fan of theirs for a long time, it probably wouldn’t matter too much to him to which sister he was handed at the end of the day.
So really everybody wins with this arrangement; Elena gets a bump to her star power, Elvis gets to fuck one of the Leon twins, Jimena gets to stay in her lane. And it’s with a heavy heart that she agrees to go.
The evening was apparently so special that their mother decided to make one of her rare appearances before sunset.
Once after finding out that not only was she one of the famous Leon Twins, but that her mother was THE Gloria Leon-Sanchez from the silent film days, he of course asked what it was like to grow up with a famous mother.
“You ever seen Sunset Boulevard?”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve met my mother.”
Harsh as it may sound, that was the most generous interpretation of her mother that she could afford these days. What with her practically living in nightgowns and sheer robes, to her constant bemoaning of actresses that apparently stole her career trajectory the likes of which included practically everyone from Rita Hayworth to even her own daughters, the comparison wasn’t too far off.
Though her mother had largely checked out once the twins had turned eighteen. Elena alone hadn’t been able to reach the same level of fame that the two of them once managed together as the “Firecracker twins.”
It was a simple gimmick really but had just enough gas to make over 30 movies and short movies about. Adorable twin girls who get up to mischief due to their near indistinguishable looks, Mena the spanish-speaking, spitfire twin that always had a skip in her step to dance with her little, english-speaking, soft-spoken and shyer twin, Nena, who could occasionally be emboldened enough to sing.
The two of them were a lightning rod for box office draw, having been likened to Shirley Temple levels of fame, but due to their background that hardly granted them Shirley Temple levels of treatment or pay for that matter.
Her and her sister weren’t seen as people, they were moving props that could sing and dance, and on occasion say their famous “Ayy, No Bueno!” catchphrase. Props that didn’t need to rest, props that didn’t need to eat, props that the less scrupulous producers would occasionally try to lure into an empty room with them.
Not to pat their mother too hard on the back, but she at the very least helped them avoid the most obvious pitfalls that come from childhood stardom, but made them arguably worse. Like refusing to let the doctor give them “vitamin shots” but would ask if they could just IV Line coffee to their veins. Or never letting either of them out of her sight on sets, but couldn’t really be bothered with them outside of it leaving them with nannies so she could go “audition” for them. Or how she never left either of them alone with any of the men, but did teach them how to mix drinks at the age of nine so they could charm them with their “maturity.” So on and so forth. All of these bad, but after encountering other mothers who wanted to make their kids stars regardless of the cost, it really put things into perspective as to the type of person she could’ve been.
What happened to her as a kid may have been more palatable to Jimena, if it were a case of that being the only way to keep them afloat. But it wasn’t and the older she gets, the better she understands as to what was stolen from her in their childhood. Their “father” Victor, had the decency to slip into a coma after marrying the formerly famous silent film-actress, and 10 Months later out popped Jimena and her sister, so as to properly claim her cut of his fortune.
No, it was never about the money for her mother. It was always the fame that she was seeking, even if she had to begrudgingly share it with her daughters.
Back in those days the Coogan act was more of a suggestion in the studios, especially when they had her mothers implicit permission for whatever they wanted. The long hours, the uncomfortable costumes and the mean men were all things she had done your very best in the last few years to forget about.
One thing she undoubtedly won’t forget was her mother’s favorite threat when she was a kid and acting up. “¿Quieres que consiga los fijadores?” Gloria would say with a sickly sweet smile on her face, knowing full well no one but her daughter understood her words. Where other Mexican kids were scared of El Cucuy, she was scared of Los Fijadores or the fixers who would take away bad little girls that didn’t listen to the directors, so that their mothers could go back to acting and not have to care for those ungrateful little girls. That would always shut her up for the day, and she would listen until the next time she got fed up and the cycle would repeat all over again. Little did she realize at the time that her mother didn’t have much in the way of influence in the business, not anymore at least, but she took full advantage over the influence she had over her daughters.
Ironically enough it was rare that Jimena would ever get to that point, but because her sister was the “good one” she would never dare to kick up a fuss, so most of the time the older sister would do it for her. She took her role as a big sister very seriously back then and didn’t mind being the difficult one who held up production if it meant that her little sister got a break.
It was always the two of them against the world. It’s why she even stayed in the business. She couldn’t imagine where she’d be if it was just her alone, as for all the shit her mother put her through, she could at least take comfort knowing that she wasn’t alone. Even when they were angry at each other, even when they wouldn’t speak to each other for weeks, even when she felt like she just wanted to choke her, she could take comfort knowing that they would always be there for one another.
For the occasion, her sister would choose a bold red dress that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Marilyn or Jayne. It felt a little too much for just a simple wrap party, but it was clear her intent was to draw as much attention as possible.
By the time Jimena made her way downstairs it was clear that it was already working, with the way their mother was cooing over her.
“So you’re going with Elena to the party,” her mother would remark as Jimena stepped down the stairs.
“Actually she’s going with me.”
“And you’re going to wear that?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?” she says in the way only a mother intent on cutting down her daughters self-esteem could.
Jimena would self-consciously look down at her own understated blue dress, “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s just…” she would say, fingering the fabric on her shoulder. “This is Elena’s big night, and we need to do everything in our power to help her stand out.”
A distraction goes unsaid, something she used to be called for wearing any slightly flattering clothing onset. Even when she did start dressing down, she could hardly say it helped anything but this is an argument she’s heard a lot over the years, and she’s too tired to fight it tonight. “Of course mama,” Jimena would say dejectedly before going back to her room to change into something a little less flattering. A simple black dress, something that is both complementary to Elena’s red dress, but will also hopefully help her fade into the background so that all focus will be given to her sister.
“Ayy thank you Mija,” she would say, planting a kiss on her eldest’s cheek before they left. “You’ve always been so good at looking out for your sister.”
Jimena had long since accepted that between the two of them, she would always be the second choice. It happened with their mother, it happened with the studios, it happened with every single boy she had been interested in, hell she had even chosen her sister before herself most times. Why would Elvis be different?
That night when he did end up picking her, Jimena could hardly be blamed for indulging in the sensation of the first time in her life someone had chosen her over her sister.
It was the worst mistake of her life that she would struggle to forgive herself for. Elvis would distract her almost the entire night, and as a result an awful man had sunken his claws into Elena when she hadn’t been looking. Those last few months of her sister's life would be fraught with anger, drugs, and heartache from one Tim Parsons.
He had been claiming to be related to one of the studio big-wigs and could get her some higher profile auditions. What scared Jimi is that she could not find a goddamn thing about him in all of her little networks. Anywhere else this would mean that he’s a perfectly normal person with nothing so scandalous as to be worth talking about. In this town it meant that someone was just very good at hiding whatever the hell is wrong with them.
Yet all the evidence that he was bad news came in the form of all the drastic changes she was seeing in her sister. Since puberty, Elena had always been slimmer than her (their mother made sure of that) as a result, she wasn’t quite as gifted in the chest and hips as Jimena. But it was impossible not to notice the fact that she dropped a few dress sizes in a matter of weeks. When Elena begged her sister to take in a few dresses for her, Jimena could practically see her ribcage. Not to mention the fact that she was unusually full of energy even late into the night when she would pace around the house only to make a call to him and then after a quick handoff from his car she would be dead asleep, until he would let himself in and the cycle would begin all over again.
Jimena knows what these all mean. She’s seen the signs in hundreds of actors before, and she’s never bothered to intervene before. Now it feels like a karmic punishment for her previous inaction, as she can only watch helplessly as her sister goes down the same road.
It all came to a head the day she finally heard the first thing about this man, and it was truly terrifying: that not only was he not a doctor, but that that wasn’t even his name. He had been forced to change it once his claim to fame in this town became how he was denied an apprenticeship under Dr. Feelgood because his concoctions were in the doctors words “unhinged.” The man who regularly shoots up his patients that have a blend of human placenta and ground up horse bones called another man’s “vitamin” mixture insane.
She dropped everything the moment she heard that and begged Elena to stop seeing this man. But it was in one ear out the other, and it seems it was hard for her to believe Jimena when for a time she was actually getting her foot in the door for major roles she actually wanted all because of him. However these also came with a price as evidenced by the late nights and vacant looks in Elena’s eyes after coming back from these auditions. The more she did this the more she felt her sister slipping away.
Her mother is no help whatsoever seeing only the results of this shift, and not the consequences.
“Mija,” she would say to her in one of her rare moments of lucidness. “This is what it really takes. I tried to protect you both from it when you were younger, but she understands now what has to be done to make it in this town.”
Jimena has to bite her tongue, when all she wants to do is scream at her mother and yell at her to look in a mirror and ask if that was the image of someone who made it.
It all came to a head when Elena would beg Jimena to help her “entertain” a casting producer who not only had a thing for latinas, but twins as well. She was practically on her knees pleading for her sister's help with this, promising her twin that this would be the break in her career that she needed. Jimena tried to reason with her that there is no role worth what they’re asking for her, especially since even sleeping with them wasn’t a guarantee for her roles.
Up until this point she’s tried to be gentle about this, but it becomes clear as day that that is no help.
“You watch!” She yelled. “He’s gonna suck you dry and spit you back out when there’s nothing left!”
“At least he’s getting me work! You’ve always done nothing but drag me down!” she sobs, angry tears streaming down her face. “The one time I ask you to do something for me-”
“The one time? Who’s the one that did all the stunts you were too afraid of? Who’s the one who dropped out of school so you wouldn’t be alone on sets? Who’s been talking you up to every producer she’s ever worked with?”
“The same bitch who ruined my life when she fucked Elvis Presley!” Her little sister would snapback.
That has Jimena clamp her mouth shut, not wanting to own up to what she did that set her sister on this course. But that’s all the confirmation Elena needed before she turned her back on her.
It was the ugliest fight they had ever had, and it resolved nothing, as they just stormed into their respective rooms. Those days were less Little Women and more Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? Jimi knew that if one didn’t get out soon there would be blood. So when she was offered a project that would be shooting mostly on location in New Orleans she practically jumped at the opportunity, hardly even registering the fact that Elvis was gonna be there as well.
It was only landing in Louisiana and seeing room assignments did she remember why exactly she hated On-location shoots, when “mysteriously” the other seven white women she was sharing a room with all unanimously decided that of all of them, Jimena would be the one that had to take the floor.
But remembering who exactly was starring in this production, she decided to take a chance and made her way to his room. Though upon arriving at his door, she does hesitate for a moment remembering what her sister said and probably what he will expect if they do share a room. But then just thinking of her sister infuriates her and she finds herself finally knocking on his door.
Being in New Orleans, all her problems back home would seem so far away, and she could focus on herself for a change. In an odd way it felt like he was the only one who understood her in those days. Of all the people on set, he is the only one who knows how to put on a brave face when it feels like everything you have is slipping through your fingers.
Him also knowing who exactly she was came with the unexpected consequence of him constantly trying to finagle stories out of her. Really talking to him about her childhood did help put into perspective how wild her formative years were as not everybody can say they got in a fist fight with Wendy Darling or that Shirley Temple taught them how to roll a cigarette.
He seemed to just understand what she needed in a way no one has ever. It was usually simple arguably unremarkable things really, like anticipating when she was hungry or tired, even before she would admit it to herself, or when she almost lost a finger or when he stepped so this would be the first time she wouldn’t be the one to have to chase rabid animals out after a small alligator somehow got onto the set. He took care of her in a way that nobody had ever done before.
She wouldn’t define what they had as a full scale relationship, but whatever they had, it was nice just to have something private and out of the public eye. Only later would she realize he had his own reasons to keep everything as discreet as possible.
They were together almost every night in New Orleans, as it was easy to fall into each other like that. They were both at an uncomfortable crossroad in their life and it felt like he understood her in a way nobody else had.
She thought she understood him as well, but it was only when she read the article did she realize she never knew him at all.
They were a week away from wrapping up production, when Jimena got the devastating news. In a newspaper somebody else had been reading on set that day of all things.
That was the way she learned that her sister was dead.
She remembers saying to no one in particular that she was gonna call it a day and simply wandered off set, into the unfamiliar city. She walked for hours just trying to wrap her head around the news.
It felt like the worst sort of betrayal to learn that her sister had been dead for days, and not only had no one contacted her, but that she didn’t automatically feel it. Aren’t other twins supposed to just know when the other is hurt? So why didn’t she? Elena came into this world with Jimena, why did she leave without her?
As a kid her mother told her that she was not a pretty crier, so she’s done everything in her power to never cry, especially in front of other people. So walking around and being surrounded by strangers at the very least did prevent her from devolving into a blubbering mess. But as the day goes on she knows there is no outrunning the inevitable, and that as tempting as it may be to simply walk until she couldn't anymore, she would have to go home soon.
She would eventually make her way back to the hotel room only to be met with Elvis worriedly pacing around his room. He would throw his arms around her the moment he saw her and start with the condolences, and even the tears.
She didn’t really want any of that; she just wanted to lie down and sleep forever. But she lets him pull her close and she breaks for the first time in years in front of somebody else. True to her mothers words, it is not a pretty picture.
Full body wracking sobs, snot pouring out of her nose, her screaming and cursing until her voice goes hoarse, the works. Even still he holds her all the same. For all that she’s glad he was there she can’t help but feel so humiliated, but that’s simply one of the many emotions that run through her head along with guilt and anger and regret and just about every other awful feeling under the sun.
But who else could she turn to that would know even a fraction of what she’s going through right now. Not just to lose a sister, but to lose a part of yourself.
In a sick way she kind of blamed him. Maybe if she hadn’t been so wrapped up in him these last few weeks she would’ve known earlier, or maybe she wouldn’t have even taken this job, or hell, if she hadn’t even gone to that party, Elena wouldn’t have even met that man in the first place.
“The same bitch who ruined my life when she fucked Elvis Presley!” Plays over and over again in her head. But it’s easier to be mad at him because he’s actually here to take that anger.
Though she begins to feel no small amount of guilt for this when she wakes up the next morning to find that he’s cleared everything with the producers, and arranged for her trip back home all on his dime.
He personally escorts her to the private train room he rented for her and leaves her with a kiss and a promise to see her in a few days. But by this point she’s numb to everything and she simply wants to close her eyes forever.
She barely registered coming home and only that was due to the fact that it’s now on her to arrange everything for the funeral, as it becomes apparent that her mother in her grief is off on another world. The biggest clue being when her mother greets her at the front door with a hug and a kiss, and calls her Elena.
“Mena’s still not back yet,” her mother would say with her arms still wrapped around her in the threshold of their home. “So it’s just gonna be us today.”
“Ama…” Jimena whispers, unwilling to believe what she’s hearing.
“Let's get you to the kitchen,” she tugs at her now lone daughter's arm. “You look like a skeleton these days. They’re not going to hire you if you don’t have a little meat on your bones.” She’s quickly whisked away to the kitchen where she finds a veritable feast, and her mothers hired cook nowhere in sight. Her mother can’t cook, a fact known to both sisters, but between the two of them, Elena never had the heart to tell her.
“You should listen to your sister more Nena,” she says brushing some hair out of her face after putting down a full plate of food in front of her. “I’ve put a lot of thought into this and I think she’s right on the money with the idea of trying to make it somewhere else and then coming back.”
“Ama… please listen to me,” she pleads softly with the older woman, wanting to be gentle with her.
“You should really consider Italy,” she would say, not even acknowledging her daughter had said something. “Or France if you want to get a slightly better chance at
It’s then she realizes that her mother is simply parroting back to her what she had been saying to her sister. All the rage and grief that’s been building up inside her bubbles over by that point. Now is when her mother decides to back her up, when it’s far too late to do anything about it?
“She’s gone!” she shouts. “She’s not here anymore, I’m Jimena!”
Her mother doesn’t look shocked, more resolved as she places her head in her hands. “Quiero estar con Elena,” she whispers through her tears.
It occurred to Jimena that this was the first time she had heard her mother speak Spanish in years. Alot of her mother these days is very… performative.
She’s seen it throughout the years how much her mother puts on a show, even simply for her daughters. It’s most apparent when she talks, as rather than using her natural voice, the one that made it impossible for her to break into the “talkies” as she still insists on calling them, she’s instead adopted the mid-atlantic, but the result sounds like if Katherine Hepburn was mocking someone with a Spanish accent.
But hearing her now, Jimena realizes that this is the most honest her mother has been with her in years. The truth doesn’t make it sting any less. Her mother is gone, she just needs to resolve this one last piece of business to go in peace.
Just like she played mother to her own sister for years, she could pretend to be the daughter that her mother needed at that moment. And so she unflinchingly took a bite out of ceviche that only tasted like raw non-marinated shrimp and talked about whether or not to go the Josephine Baker route and start off as a showgirl.
The rest of the day is spent trying to ease her mothers guilt, only to pile it onto Jimena. Her mother would not so subtly explain why Jimena has been right this whole time and why ELena should listen to her. She suspects this is some fucked up way for her mother to tell her it’s not her fault, but all Jimena can hear is how if she had pushed harder her sister would still be here.
At one point her mother would “subtly” hint that she called in a favor with an old friend to take “Tim” down to Mexico so that he can retire. Jimena can’t even find joy in the fact that he’s gone now, because what does that leave her with, if she can’t be the one to kill the man who killed a part of her?
“One more thing Mija,” Gloria says as she runs her nails through Jimena’s hair while they were both laying down in her sister's bed. “Thank your sister for me.”
Jimena hesitates before she asks, that distinct sense of trouble churning her stomach, “For what?”
“For being the mother I could never be for you,” she says, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Mena’s the one I never had to worry about.” And with those final words, her mother settles in behind her and goes to sleep.
The coroner would later say that the fact that she was able to sleep and not be disturbed by whatever took her, she at the very least went without pain.
This is fundamentally untrue as she left all her pain to Jimena.
This event had taken the story from simply sad to a tragedy. A young, beautiful starlet dying of an accidental overdose, is one thing, but add in her bereaved former silent film star mother to the mix, and that’s front-page news worthy. And before Jimena knew it, her loss was now the hottest ticket in town, because all of the cameras were not gonna dare miss such an event, and no star was gonna dare miss the cameras.
It felt that every relatively famous person who vaguely knew either her mother or sister came out of the woodwork to tell some sort of story about them at the funeral. Jimena doesn't really have much to say other than there were definitely some who pulled off the bereaved friend act better than others.
When it finally comes time for her eulogy, she was not as prepared as she thought. In an odd way it would have been better to look out in a sea of strangers, because looking out and seeing a hoard of famous faces who don’t know a single goddamn thing about her, all blank as there is not a single camera trained on them at the moment is far worse than anything imaginable.
She ends up bolting to a backroom before she could make a fool of herself and scream at them all for being here when they’re not. She gives a futile effort to calm herself down by looking at all the gifts from well-wishers.
It was almost funny as it seemed everyone's publicist went to the same gift basket guy as there were maybe a dozen of the same arrangements, and she briefly wondered if they were bought in bulk by the studio and sent in different stars names. But one name in particular gave her pause, and she ripped the card off of the basket, unwilling to believe her own eyes that he could be so callous.
Sorry for your loss
It was hard to comprehend at that moment, and she stupidly turned the little card back and forth unwilling to believe that the man who claimed to care so much for her would only send her an assortment of fruits and cheeses and not even five words.
It’s all too much at that point, her dress is too tight, she’s all alone, her head is spinning, she’s all alone, her tits hurt for some reason, she’s all alone, she wants to throw up, she’s all alone, she’s all alone, she’s all alone…
Jimena’s next conscious thought is realizing she’s in a hospital bed, but not in a hospital. The sound stage she’s on does a good enough job of looking like an actual hospital, save for the fact that an entire wall is missing and what looks to be a couple dozen cameras trained on her prone form. She can’t move anything save for blinking but that simply seems to make her situation worse as the cameras proceed to multiply each and every time.
What does eventually make her accept that this is in fact a dream is when her rotting and decaying mother and sister enter stage left and proceed to rip off the thin hospital blankets. Before she can make any move to protest, she’s quieted with a wave of pain in her lower belly as they both take one of her legs in hand and proceed to spread them wide open for the cameras, each flash searing into her skin like a brand.
She can feel the way her mother and sister dig their fingers into her limbs to keep her in place and helpless as wave after wave of agony seems to flow throughout her entire body. She’s begging for them to let her go, she’s begging the cameras to stop, most of all she’s begging for someone who's not there.
She came to, maybe a day later, this time in an actual hospital with a mild concussion, a baby in her belly, and a broken heart, though they can only officially diagnose the first two.
She had options for this situation. Every woman, famous or not, in the business knew she had options, it was practically part of orientation that they got a list of ten approved doctors by the studio for this very sickness. It was almost treated as a rite of passage for the backstage girls to have to eventually visit a doctor, it’s simply that common.
Jimena’s never had any reason to utilize this option, having 1. Avoided anybody relatively important to necessitate this, and 2. She had always been careful when it came to something like this. And yet somehow Elvis proved to be an exception to these rules. She had admittedly gotten sloppy after the first time he spilled inside her in New Orleans, as after that first time she figured that if anything came from this she could always just visit one of the studio doctors when she got back to LA.
But sitting in a hospital bed, that once hypothetical scenario now a reality, it no longer feels as simple as it once did. She’s near catatonic in her indecisiveness until one of the nurses idly asks if she would be open to visitors should anybody arrive.
And just like that, the prospect of going through with any other option other than keeping the baby made her sick. Because if she did go through with it… then she would well and truly have no one.
It had always been her and Elena against their mother, against the studio, against the world even, but now… she’s gone and it feels like she took a part of Jimena with her.
Jimena’s good at a lot of things, not great, simply good. Jack of all trades they would call her, able to make quick fixes to a golf cart in a pinch, mix the perfect hangover cure, fix a few busted stitches on a dress or person alike, and practically anything else the studio demanded of her.
Maybe in another life her wide-ranging skill set would have made her the greatest actress of her generation, able to play whatever role thrown at her. But in this life it just made her feel hollow. As though she herself is empty and without a part to play save for caring for her sister.
Perhaps it’s true and that’s why she latched onto Elvis for a time, desperately needing to care for someone if only to outrun those fears of inadequacy. But there’s no outrunning anything when half of her is gone.
As for Elvis, she doesn’t exactly know what to do about him just yet. She knew that telling anyone but him first would result in it getting back to the studio and at best she would be “lightly” pressured to go see a doctor, at worst anybody who asks will be told she decided to “retire” in Mexico. So her best bet was to wait it out and hope he contacts her.
Then one fateful morning as she was contemplating how best to ask the studio for bereavement leave, did she get a copy of Excelsior and she read about an exclusive interview Federico de León got with the father of her child.
I would rather kiss three black women than one Mexican.
She thinks she stares at that sentence for a good ten minutes trying to convince herself that she’s somehow misinterpreting this. But the inner smartass has to creep in and force her to face her new reality.
Well… he did more than kiss, she thought spitefully looking down at her belly, now far more prominent than it had been at the funeral months ago. She burns with humiliation and shame as those words run over and over in her head.
She knows personally that there is almost always a grain of truth to stories like these, having had the scoop on many of them months before they got to print. And the fact of the matter is that it’s hard to believe the studio would allow for these to stand if they weren’t true with the movie coming out soon.
As far as she knows, the studio has no idea about the affair between her and Elvis, and she’s going to keep it that way.
What burns her the most is how wrong she was about him, not just as a person but as an actor. That she could’ve ever believed all his sweet words about this grand connection they had and how they were destined to be together. He’s perhaps the best actor she’s ever encountered if he got her of all people to believe all of that shit.
It’s better this way, she tries to tell herself. In a way it is, as this was always an inevitability because regardless of whether he said it or not, there is no world where they ended up together. That’s not how this town works.
Her job makes her the first one to see actors on a given day, and she’s been forced to think on her feet as to how best to make them not only look but be presentable in front of the camera.
She’s had to quickly sober up hundreds of actors and she’s had to figure out just the right amount of drink for each of them that will make them functional but not incoherent. Had to cover up twice as many bruises on actresses' faces so no one will speculate what goes on behind closed doors of their producers husbands. She’s even been the one to diagnose more than a few “social” diseases on set and steer them to the right doctors, so as to prevent a veritable epidemic on set. As haughty as it may sound, productions would fall apart without her.
Low-level she may be, she’s a fixer in this town. She’s not a problem that needs to be fixed.
And she decides neither will her baby.
She’s not gonna beg like a fucking dog to be acknowledged by him, nor will she allow for her child to be forced into the spotlight. It destroyed her sister, it ruined her mother, and it almost claimed her once more.
Elvis may have taken her pride but he won’t have her and he sure as hell will never have her baby.
Now
Elvis will never be used to California weather with its ability to both be hot and dry in the tail end of winter. But he hopes it’ll do him some good of defrosting his bones from the near-year round cold of Germany. Once upon a time he never thought he would enjoy it as much as he does right now.
But he’s found a lot to love and miss about California since he’s been gone so long.
Not to brag but he’s been with his fair share of women, between actual girlfriends, publicity girlfriends and all the girls he knew at best for only a few hours. None of them can claim to have instilled in him this sense of longing the way she did.
Nor can any of them claim to have caused as much heartache as she did.
Bittersweet as they may be, those days filming King Creole he missed the most. It was those days that kept him sane in the lead up to boot camp, and even then some. Though of all the things Hollywood had to offer him, there is only one thing he coveted these last few years.
“You see her over there Billy,” he said to his cousin one day on set as he took a breather from the lights while she fixed up Carolyn’s makeup. “That’s the girl that’s gonna be my wife.” No words have ever felt more right to him.
It was all the more heartbreaking and humiliating when he had sent Billy to find her and figure out why none of the letters he’d been giving to the Colonel to give to her had been answered while he was in boot camp. Billy would return to Texas unable to meet his eyes as he sheepishly handed him a single note in her handwriting.
Three black women huh?
That sinking feeling that settled in his stomach as he remembered those words are something he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget. He recognized those words, how could he not? Afterall those are supposedly the ones he said that got him and his movies banned from an entire goddamn country he ain’t ever been to.
It would be one thing for her to be mad at him for something he did do, but it felt like the worst sort of injustice that Jimi may never want to see him again for words that he never said from a man he never met for some unforgivable slight he never committed.
Worst of all was how he was surrounded by his entourage who gathered around and were now owlishly looking at him, expecting a certain reaction from him, and simply waiting for him so they could properly react.
It’s near paralyzing in that moment that he recognizes that his closest friends aren’t expecting him to react, they’re expecting Elvis Presley to react.
“Her loss,” he remembers saying, feeling every single eye on him in that moment, trying to literally shrug off that scratchy feeling in his throat. He’s supposed to be the biggest heartthrob of America, unfazed when a girl said no because there are no less than a hundred girls that would say yes.
They all follow suit, and quickly take to promising him a night out and reassuring him that he’ll practically be drowning in pussy before midnight. Though with one look he does put an end to that little episode when their support for him turned into disparaging her.
He knows that there is no use in even trying to reason with her over letters. Because what can he really say to her in writing if she’s not gonna even bother reading?
If she already has it in his head that he’s the type of man to say something like that, then no amount of letters will make her believe otherwise.
He would spend the next year trying unsuccessfully to fall out of love with her. Indulged -perhaps too much- in all that bachelorhood had to offer. All the girls he could pull, all the pills he could handle, but none of it could even match a fraction of the euphoric feeling of being complete when Jimena was around.
She loves him. Or at least she used to. She never said it but he certainly felt loved in a way he’s not used to anymore. It’s not the fanatical worship from his fans, nor the sycophantic adoration of his buddies. Her love is something purer, less selfish, something he doesn’t think he’s experienced outside of his mama since the fame started rolling in.
He needs her in his life. Because nobody is going to look out for him or try to protect him the same way she would.
He’s had nothing but time to figure out ways to get her to at the very least hear him out. From there he could start rebuilding the foundation of the relationship and work his way back to her good graces.
His first obstacle to this plan comes in the form of finding out she is no longer doing makeup anymore, and is now in fact part of the wardrobe department. This is a wrench in his plans considering he attributes her fall for him due to the fact that she practically saw him everyday while shooting. But he tries to look at the bright side of this, knowing that it at least guarantees that Brando and Newman haven’t been getting the same treatment from her.
The next obstacle to seeing her again is her initial refusal to be a part of the new production, as now with her new title as Costume designer she’s in a better position to pick and choose what she works on. But enough pressure on the director to push for her specifically does eventually have her signing on to the project.
The final wrench in his plans came the day he had been anticipating for almost two years.
He’s thought about her non-stop for the past two years, so he almost immediately notices the changes in her appearance. No less beautiful (arguably even more so with her bigger tits and rounder hips, and better fitting clothes), she’s different nonetheless, yet none of that prevents him from wanting to gather her in his arms and promise to never let go.
But a single look from her his way, stops him in his tracks. And suddenly he’s brought back to the first time he ever met her, mistaking her for his would be co-star, and wondering how he’s gonna get through this shoot when he feels like he’s two inches tall under this gorgeous creature's gaze.
He was prepared for her hatred, he wasn’t prepared for her complete and utter indifference. She had that glazed over look in her eyes, like he wasn’t even there. It reminds him of one of the few times that he dared to question why she does that whenever he asked what it was like to grow up in Hollywood.
In a rare instance of vulnerability, she would solemnly whisper “It makes it easier to pretend it happened to someone else.” Only minutes after that would she claim to urgently need to go back to her assigned room for the night, the only time she ever did so during production. Next day she would pretend as though nothing happened, and he would follow suit all too willing to indulge her so she wouldn't run off again.
He knows he’s hurt her beyond measure, but to be put in the same categories of things she would rather pretend never happened is gut-wrenching.
If she hated him, he could’ve worked with that, because at the very least she still felt something when she looked at him. But as the whole session went on it became clear she at the very least wanted him to believe she felt nothing for him.
He would’ve taken any sort of reaction by that point: an “accidental” pin prick from the needle, a passive-aggressive tightening of the measuring tape around his neck, hell he would’ve settled for so much as a hateful glare his way. But nothing, stone cold professional she is, she simply takes his measurements only to then give her only acknowledgment that he was even there by giving him a simple “all done.” She then moves on to his co-star with all the eagerness of someone about to brush their teeth, just so painfully indifferent to everything in this room.
Regret is a constant companion these days, always whispering in his ear about his shortcomings, but now it feels like it’s practically screaming in his ear what a failure he is to let a woman like this slip through his fingers.
He’s practically kicking his younger and dumber self for being so cowardly as to miss the chance to tell her how he felt. Not a day has passed since they parted had he not thought about every touch he didn’t follow with I love you, every embrace he didn’t whisper how much she meant to him, every kiss he didn’t beg for her to always stay by his side.
He had been gearing up to try to broach the subject of something more happening, ideally ending up with a courthouse wedding before he had to be sworn in, though he was willing to accept whatever form of a relationship she would offer him so long as she would still be in his life.
But then just a week before wrap-up, when everything was as close to perfect as it could be, that is of course when things went to shit.
Elena Perez, of the famous little firecracker twins, found dead, age 21
It hit him like a punch to the gut when he first saw that. Even though he had never met her, it was devastating all the same, knowing how affected Jimi was gonna be.
The closest he ever did come to meeting her was when Jimi had brought her to the wrap party for Loving You.
He was still pretty new to the art of schmoozing, so his night was almost entirely devoted to an ever present smirk that had begun to hurt his cheeks and laughing a little more than necessary at every joke the studio heads made. He was tired but he knew he would find no rest anywhere. But his tune quickly changed when he saw a familiar figure within the crowd.
He felt his heart go all a flutter when he saw her from behind but then when she turned around there was just something about her that didn’t sit right with him. It was like looking at a funhouse mirror of Jimi, her posture almost ridiculously upright to further push her ample breasts out, her smile a little too tight, but most of all her eyes were a little too hungry, a little too eager to please. The features were nearly entirely the same but he was so used to the casual nature of his makeup girl, it felt so unnatural to see this.
In another life he may have been all over her by this point, taken her home, maybe if he was feeling generous, been seen out in public with her a few times before ultimately moving on. There were beautiful and eager to please women everywhere he looked, there wasn’t really anything special about Elena Leon.
But having met Jimi first, he can’t really fathom having much to do with her.
He spent the better part of two hours ducking and weaving her approach, practically sending out his boys as human shields, to keep her away, because he doesn’t exactly trust himself not to give in to her advances, if only for the consolation prize of getting to be with someone who looked liked the one he actually wanted.
He eventually made his way upstairs after a while no longer wanting to be surrounded by people, as there was only one person he wanted to be with at the moment, and she had apparently decided not to come.
It becomes apparent that he’s been rewarded for his self- restraint when he finds a backside he would know anywhere on the third floor balcony. Swathed in a pretty if non-descript black dress, bottle of champagne in hand, she was looking down on the party like an ever-judging guardian angel.
“Y’know I don’t think they wanted anyone up here,” he would say casually.
He could see the way she practically lit up as she saw him, a soft smile on her gorgeous face and her eyes warm, probably the first person of the night that was genuinely glad to see him. It’s a novel experience for people to see him and not the star, and it’s something he never thought he would miss.
“Well you better get outta here before they see you,” she snarked back.
He laughs for the first time since he got there, and it feels so easy to just settle right next to her and look down on everyone else. He finds himself relaxing for the first time since he’s gotten there.
“So what’s a pretty girl like you doin’ up here all by your lonesome?”
Around a tight smile she says, “There’s already a pretty girl like me down at the party.” He can’t help that he flinches slightly as he thinks about her sister. “I see you met Elena,” she sighs, before plastering a tight-lipped sardonic grin on her face. “So what’d ya think?”
Elvis has the good sense to know a trap when he sees one with women, so rather than using words he just lets out a long breath.
She gives a short mirthful huff. “Yeah that’s fair,” she taps the neck of the bottle trying to undoubtedly figure out a way to change the subject. “If you say some corny ass shit like ‘I think I’m seein’ double’,” she says in a piss poor impression of his own voice. “I will push you off this balcony.”
“You sound like ya done it before sweetheart” he smirks, swiping the bottle from her hand, before taking a swig.
“How else do you think I avoided becoming Charlie Chaplin’s 5th wife?” The simple statement catches him off guard that champagne threatens to come back up his nose.
“... ya serious?” He closes his eyes in relief when she snorts.
“No,” she chuckles, with a hand wave. “I pushed him off because of something else.” Her eyes slide away from him and zero in on one of the partygoers below, before he could dare ask for any further elaboration. “Oh hey… Brody’s here and… uh-oh so is Frank.”
He follows her eyeline to find that she’s wearily looking at ol’ blue eyes himself who has decided to make an appearance. “Ya’ got a story ‘bout Frank?”
“I got a story about everyone here.” With a slight smirk, she would hold two fingers up and ask, “Wanna know how I got these scars?”
She regales him with not just that story but others of what she’s been asked to do on set. Some were funny like having to fish a toupee out of an oscar winner's mouth to more harrowing ones of being asked to check the pulse of particularly heavy drinking stars. Anybody else, he doubts he would have humored such tales, but it’s when he started hearing other people tell even wilder stories of her that ranged from snake-wrangling to resetting famous stars' bones after some sexual misadventure, did he learn early on never to doubt her stories.
“So you come to these things often?” he asks after her giggles had settled down.
“Never,” you answer. “But Elena convinced me we had to come to this one especially,” a bit more solemnly as she looked down at the familiar figure down below at the party. “You know when we were little, we used to climb up onto the roof and watch the parties from up there to tell funny stories and avoid the adults, saying how we were never gonna be like them.” There’s warmth in her voice, but sadness in her eyes as she gazed down at her mirror image at the party below.
Being a twin is not something Elvis liked to dwell on. His Mama had always talked about Jesse watching over him since he was little, but rarely if ever did he really contemplate what it meant to have a brother who wasn’t there with him.
It feels as though he was supposed to have someone that was meant to always be with him and look out for him, but now they’re not here and now he’s doomed to a life of loneliness. This thought is only further reinforced by the way you look at your sister, and something almost akin to jealousy shoots through his being, that she can have you and not value you.
Not like he could, a voice whispers in his head.
“What’s it like being a twin?” he would ask before he could lose his nerve. Though he does immediately clamp up at not just the suddenness of the question but the ease he was able to ask it. He’s tried to broach the subject of Jesse a few times throughout his life only to chicken out at the last minute in fear of upsetting someone, namely his mama.
Though the regret is instant as he watches her mood drop immediately and face him with a disgusted expression, that he can’t quite understand until she says with no amount of venom missing, “No I’m not gonna ask her if she’d be interested in a threesome,” she says, far too quick to have him not believe that this isn’t the first time she’s heard this.
He feels his face immediately go up in flames as to how grossly his words have been misinterpreted. “N-no I-I didn’t mean it like that,” he says quickly trying to salvage the situation and gets a hold of her before she can fully turn around.
“Mmhmm,” she hums dismissively, looking down at the hand that holds her wrist and looking down on him as though he’s the scum of the Earth.
“Darlin’ I-I swear it ain’t nothin’ like that, I just… I…” he stutters out wondering if there’s anyway he can truly explain his interest in her status as a twin without coming off as creepy, but one look at the full moon shining behind you is all the signal he needs to be honest. “Ain’t too many people know this,” he starts, taking a steadying breath trying to find that courage of two men he’s supposed to have. “But I-I had a brother, and…” he swallows hard at this one, always a sensitive subject in the Presley household. “And he-he didn’t make it…”
She looks at him with a critical eye, undoubtedly searching for any sign of falsehoods on his face, only for the hard look to melt when she realizes he spoke nothing but the truth.
“Oh, umm…” she says. “I-I’m sorry to hear that,” her voice dripping with guilt at the assumption.
“It’s fine,” he reassured you. “He was gone ‘fore I even got here.”
It’s hard to talk about Jesse with anyone, because what more can anyone say about him other than he should be here but he isn’t. He has no memories to reflect sadly on, just wishful thinking about who Jesse could’ve been or even who he would’ve been if had him in his life.
“I really don’t know how to describe it,” she says, putting down the bottle she had in her hand. “Because she’s always just… been there, and I’ve always been the one to look out for her.”
“You’re the older one?” he asks with a bit of a laugh.
“Yeah,” she affirmed. “I’ve been doing it my whole life. Stayed up and held her hand when she was too scared to sleep. Did all the stunts she was too afraid to do and broke a couple bones. Threw tantrums when we were filming so she could get a break that she was too nervous to ask for. Dropped out of school so I could get a job on set, so she wasn’t alone. Hell, the only reason I’m here at this stupid party is because she thought she could get in touch with someone who could help her career.” Each admission is met with a more resentful tone, only for her to then try to chase away the taste the words are leaving in your mouth, by taking back the bottle.
“O-oh,” is all he really has to say to that.
“She’s awful,” she admits, but a sardonic smile begins to creep up on her face. “I love her so much.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” she asserts. “There’s no one else in the whole world I would’ve done those things for. I guess that’s what it’s like to be a twin, take care of the person who's been here since you were born. It’s like… having to take care of any other part of your body, but this one is just constantly away from you and you can do nothing but worry.”
Elvis is stunned into silence for a moment as he looks at her, because she is able to finally put into words that anxiousness that has been eating at him his whole life. Even with all the love and reassurance he felt as a kid, there’s always just been that missing part of him that no one has ever been able to understand.
But there’s one part that eats at him still.
“And does she take care of you?” he asks, more curious than anything at this point.
That question catches her off-guard as she rips her eyes away from him and furiously looks down at the party, before she smiles and looks back at him to ask “Wanna hear who Clark Gable had a secret child with?”
Another time he would’ve been very interested in the topic, but seeing her obvious panic as she tried to avoid the very subject keeps him focus. “Don’t do that,” he pleads softly, brushing a few errant curls out of her face. “Don’t shut me out.”
She leans into his hand a little bit and he feels her jaw clench as she tries to get a handle on herself. “I must sound like a crazy person to you,” she says. Granted anyone else, he might’ve thought that, but this is Jimi, the girl who is never bothered by anything. He was witness to how she nonchalantly filed her nails before putting out a camera fire. Watched as she hardly broke her stride when some yahoo tried to scare her with a halloween mask. Hell he’s seen her put out a match with just her fingertips, and only to stare him down to get back onto set.
She’s seen the worst this town has to offer, and yet it’s her seemingly one-sided relationship with her sister that has her on the verge of collapse.
Not if Elvis had any say about that.
He takes it as a good sign when the normally touch-averse Jimi doesn’t immediately pull away from the hand on her shoulder, so he decides to take a chance and fully envelope her in his arms. She stiffens somewhat but otherwise accepts it, and he feels his heartbreak over the unspoken truth that she looks out for Elena, but no one looks out for her.
“I think it sounds like…” he says, taking her chin in his hands, “ya care a lot darlin’, and it don’t sound like she appreciates it as much as she should.”
The ever present indifferent shell she had built over the years cracks with that simple statement of understanding. She has such beautiful doe eyes hidden behind a hard stare, and for only having known her for a few weeks Elvis can appreciate even the chance to see behind the mask.
But he wants to know more. He wants to know all of her.
It feels almost magnetic, the sudden pull he felt towards her in that moment. Nothing could stop him as he leaned down to kiss her full lips. Everything else in the world seems to fall by the wayside, the party, the people, even the city itself no longer existed to him as he held her in his arms.
Their first time with her was nothing short of magic. It felt like the first breath of air after being held underwater for so long.
They just seemed to fit together so well, a fact that couldn’t be denied even as their first time was a quick and dirty session on a balcony under the light of the moon. Like they had been so desperate for each other years even before they met, and now it all culminates to this.
They don’t even really remove their clothes, he just unbuckled his pants on the deck chair while she sat astride him, moving her skirt up her waist and move her panties to the side. Her moans as she slowly impaled herself on his length sound like music to his ears and he can’t help the low groans as he tries to prevent himself from closing his eyes too much wanting to burn the image of her taking his cock while the full moon gives her a truly angelic look behind her.
He wants so badly to hold her but even now she denies him that as she puts a hand over his chest and rides him like she’s trying to tame a bucking stallion. He’s just as enthusiastic for this as he grips her thighs in his hands and
The whole encounter is over and done within a matter of minutes after that, but he’s just glad that she came to and now he didn’t have to feel the shame of finishing before her. She collapses on top of him trying to hold herself upright while he holds her close to his chest as he gives a few lazy thrusts to ride out the rest of his orgasm. He’s never felt more connected to anybody than her in this moment and he wants to truly seal this perfect night when he raises her chin to try to capture her lips.
But she pulls away slightly at the motion, “... I… I should go…” she whispers, and he’s not too sure if she’s saying that more to him or herself.
“...I-if that’s wh-whatcha want baby…” he says, not having the heart to deny her anything, no matter how much every single other part of him is screaming at him to make her stay. The inner conflict practically paralyzes him where he layed and he could only watch as she quickly fixed herself up. It’s mesmerizing to watch, as with only a few quick adjustments, Jimi looks good as new, save for the kiss-swollen lips and the slight uneasiness in her stance, it’s as though nothing had ever happened.
That hurts in a way he can’t explain with words. The idea that the relationship they’ve built in the last few weeks will amount to a one time thing that they go their separate ways from.
But what can he do to stop her if she doesn’t want to be here anymore?
So with all the boldness he’s learned to fake over the last few years, he grabs a hold of her wrist, and tries to give some type of meaning to this whole thing. “Wait darlin’.” He makes a conscious effort not to grip too tight lest he scare her off, but just enough to let her know he’s serious. “What’s your real name?”
Bathed in light of the full moon right behind her, a soft smile on her face as she looks at him though not without that twinge of sadness in her eyes. “Jimena Gabriella Perez.” she said as though it were a good bye.
And with the way she walks away without even a glance back, it’s clear that it was.
He sits there for he doesn’t even know how long just in his head and staring up at the moon. He knows realistically he should be making his way back downstairs, but all desire to mingle with other people seemed to dissipate as he stared up at the full moon. Besides there’s only one person he really wanted to be with at the moment and she apparently could hardly wait to get outta there.
He stared up at the night sky for the longest time trying to gather his thoughts about the situation, trying to figure out why it felt like every nerve in his body was screaming at him not to let her leave. It was all kinds of backwards yet somehow still fitting that he learned her name only after sleeping together.
But try as he might, he can't justify keeping her here when she clearly wants to go.
It felt as though he had known her for years rather than months. In a way it was sort of the truth due to having seen her movies as a kid, but never in his worst nightmares could he imagine the near debilitating feeling that rests in his chest at the prospect of never seeing her again. So he closes his eyes and tries to make peace with the fact he’ll never see Jimena Perez again.
Jimena Perez… JP… Elena Perez… EP…
His eyes shot open at that realization, and as he hurried to make himself somewhat presentable, he berated himself for missing something like that. He has never believed in coincidences and this was far too specific to be anything other than some sort of sign.
But to his chagrin, it’s as though she had dropped off the face of the Earth.
The next day, all anybody could talk about was the scene that the Leon girl made of herself standing on tables and practically flashing the studio head with an impromptu can-can dance, until her sister pulled her off and quickly escorted her out.
It would be another year before he would see her in person again, and that was only because he specifically requested to have her on-set for what he thought would potentially be his last movie. But even then he’s able to find a modicum of peace with that, if only that he will have her in the end, and this whole ride has been worth something.
He doesn’t know what’s more terrifying, the idea that he’ll never be able to communicate how he feels about her or the prospect that he will and she’ll reject him all the same. He even at one point resorted to trying to write them down in order to sort them out.
But each time he tried to put pen to paper it felt like his mind went blank, because how can he explain that it feels like she’s the piece that’s been missing his whole life. That the only time he’s felt whole were the few weeks they spent together. That it can be no coincidence that their names and family names match so perfectly, and it’s gotta be a sign that something else is at play here.
But he realizes that he’s gotta put in the legwork to make fate happen too.
Requesting to have her be In New Orleans, and he planned on working his way to slowly form a friendship into something more permanent. Of course she did throw a wrench into that plan almost immediately the first night when she showed up at his hotel room and declared the couch for herself because she refuses to stay where she was assigned. He wouldn’t have her anyother way.
It’s easy to fall into each other once more, as though it hadn’t been almost a year since they last saw one another. He hopes that maybe this time around he would be able to show her even a fraction of what he feels. In an ideal world they would already be on their way to a courthouse to make it all official so that no one would bat an eye when he brought her to Germany, but even he realizes what a tall order that would be. He’s not one to plan ahead, but he figures it’s gonna be a longer process than he anticipated with her, but Jimi’s worth every moment.
But just like that it all seemed to fall apart.
As sad as it makes him to wake up without her, he’s used to it by this point, but what does worry him is why she wasn’t in his trailer when he arrived on set. It ate at him that seemingly no one cared beyond the grumblings from the other makeup girls who were now having to work more because she’s missing in action. He knows he’s gonna get an earful for this alone from her considering how much she wants to keep their involvement a secret, he does blatantly ask about her by name.
It becomes clear what exactly happened when he notices a discarded newspaper on the director's chair. He immediately calls for a halt to the production so he could go out and look for her, fearing the worst. But due to the already tight schedule practically everyone refuses to do so, even after hearing why exactly she was gone.
At that point he just walks off set and swiftly dispatches every one of his boys to go search the city. He even gets in on it and drives around for a few hours all in an effort to find her, but he returns to his suite so he can pray and pace and worry and hope she comes back before sunset.
When she does get back, the faraway look in her eyes tells him she hasn’t been crying, but the way she’s all clenched up like she’s actively fighting herself from doing so in front of him. He’s having none of it and he brings her into his arms.
It’s only then that she seems to collapse in her grief, and he holds her still knowing that there’s nothing else he could do right now. He’s never seen her like this and immediately he recognizes that he will only ever know a fraction of what she’s going through in that moment.
Elena was a real person whom she’s known all her life, Jimi had confided in him how she’s put her through the absolute wringer with their mama favoring her and her inability to recognize what her sister has been doing for her sake. Jesse has always just been gone, and Elvis could imagine him in whatever way he liked as an older brother. Jimi knew her through all of the ugliest bits of their lives and loved her all the same, even as she slowly spiraled downwards.
“Jimi…” he whispers at a loss for words. He knows that nothing he says could possibly fix this situation and it makes him feel all new sorts of helplessness to the situation.
“Why didn’t I feel it when it happened?” she asked out loud though he gets the sense she isn’t asking looking for an answer from him.
He could hold her tighter so that she wouldn’t feel so alone right now. The rest of the night, and well into the next day, is a blur as he as he waivers between trying to comfort her and arranging for her return to California. He wants to go with her but despite the already tight schedule for filming and the looming date of his induction he’s hoping to be able to at least see her one last time before boot camp.
He remembers finding her red bandana as she was packing everything up, and contemplating telling her. But he selfishly wants a small piece to hold onto until the next time he sees her so he slyly slips it under his pillow, and he promises to himself he would give it back once he saw her again.
But of course the lord himself seemed to laugh in his face as his stunt apparently cost a few extra days of filming and between everything else going on in the lead up to his induction, he couldn’t be there for her. The Colonel had a few of his own men physically hold him to prevent him from getting on the next train to LA after he heard about her mama passing, the only thing swaying him was the Colonel’s promise that it would only be one more day of shooting. One day turned into three and before he knew it he was whisked back home to wait out until his induction, with the only acknowledgement from the Colonel being that he made sure to send condolences to the surviving Leon daughter.
He can only imagine what she went through losing her sister and mother so close together, difficult relationship and all. He would lose his mama only a few months later, and it felt as though every breath threatened to be his last one. Knowing she went through all of this alone, it’s little wonder why all of the letters and invitations he sent at Fort Hood went unanswered.
Sitting in his mothers closet, not wanting to have his grief turned into a photo-op for the press. He now understands why Jimi left the business in the first place. It was as though he was trapped in a fish bowl, drowning and everybody was fighting to be the one to witness his last breath. It makes him feel all the worse for letting her go through that alone.
His biggest regret is that she had to go through all of this alone. He had tried his hardest to try to head back West to see her only to be thwarted each and every time. No amount of Love was gonna thwart Uncle Sam from getting his dues. And before he knew it he was on a ship headed to Europe.
He almost had to relegate himself to the fact that the relationship is unsalvageable after all of it. Truly after experiencing loss himself, he can’t imagine any scenario where she could forgive him, as he could hardly forgive himself.
But for the sake of making tomorrow seem even the minimum amount of bearable he forces himself to dream that things can be fixed and they would eventually be happier than ever.
Because if they don’t… then what’s the point?
After all they had gone through separately he knew in his heart that there would never be anyone who could understand him like she could. A twin without a twin, and a child without a mother, a lonely soul surrounded by others, and most of all a person in desperate need of love beyond simple admiration.
There had always been an ever-present hollow feeling in his life, something he never even recognized until she was no longer present to relieve him from that emptiness. She understands him more than anyone ever will, and the idea of letting her go without a fight is something he simply can’t do.
The almighty himself has tied them together unlike anything he’s ever seen before and to choose another path would be blasphemous at this point.
All his thoughts on who Jesse would’ve been have been answered when he pointed Elvis in her direction. He has to believe that he wouldn’t do him dirty by bringing him to his soulmate only for fate to snatch her away all the same. He has to believe that things will get better, otherwise what’s the point of continuing on?
But he has to grin and bear the hell that will be trying to live without her in Germany. But if his time in Hollywood taught him anything, it’s how to pretend to be someone he’s not.
It’s easy to pretend to be the good Sergeant Preseley in Germany, charm the pants off a couple girls, do whatever he’s assigned to do by the higher-ups, take whatever the doctors give him so that he can do both, abstain from playing music, act like it’s not killing him, etc,. Behind the scenes he becomes needier than ever, truly fearing being alone now of all times, because he doubts he could keep this up without an audience presence.
Everybody has seemed to become the audience regardless of how close they previously were to him, it’s hard to think of them as anything else considering that he’s playing a part for them all so they could believe that he’s fine.
This all adds to his longing for Jimi, knowing that she saw through him easily and he never had to worry about being anything less than himself around her.
But playing his role helps ease the ache that stems from every thought that she brings to his heart, as then it can be somebody else experiencing that devastation. So he bides his time and plays his part in Germany. Trying to fill that sinking feeling he got in his chest every time he thought about Jimi with more partying, more drugs, more women, just more everything. Even with all that, that sinkhole in his chest seemingly grew bigger and bigger every morning he woke up and she wasn't with him.
His heart has been broken since the day he was born, and it has been a mad scramble for the pieces for everyone ever since. His brother took a piece with him when he left, as did his mama, and everybody else who had a piece had been doing jackshit to appreciate it.
He had only one piece of it left really, and he had spent his entire life trying to find someone who he could trust to take care of it. And like a goddamn miracle his brother was able to answer for him, and pointed him in her direction. And finally he found the person he could give that final piece of his heart to.
But she hurt him in a way that no one has ever been able to do so. She didn’t take advantage of his heart, or reject it, or even betray it. Worse yet, she couldn’t recognize what he was giving her. The life Jimi had been living had turned her cynical to his intentions for her. And every fear she may have ever had about him had been proven true with just that one little article.
He can’t even blame her for being angry, as he doubts he would’ve been able to keep a lid on something like this in her shoes. But he can’t dwell on it, he can only move forward and try his best to fix this.
It had truly felt like the world was conspiring against him in that year, as he had to watch as everything he loved slipped through his fingers, all for what. All for a dream that he wasn’t even sure was worth it anymore, nor something he could actually be a part of.
Being enlisted and overseas already, there was always the lingering threat that if anything happens with the Reds, he’s already here to fight the good fight and all that. Be the good soldier, who would gladly lay down his life for his country.
Really he just wants to lay down.
Sometimes forever.
In the worst days he was so sure he was gonna die there, whether by an enemy hand or by his own, he couldn’t decide. Really the only thing that kept him going was the slim chance that she would be willing to hear him out if he ever came back stateside. Those nights he would hold onto that small piece of her trying to convince himself of the illusion that she’s waiting for him, and dying here would only mean he would lose any chance of seeing her again.
At one point it stopped smelling like her and he resorted to ordering a bottle of her perfume just to preserve the illusion that she was still waiting for him. He probably doused the cloth with a quarter of the bottle, and inhaled half of that all to maintain the illusion of her still willing to come back to him eventually. He’s sure if that hadn’t worked in easing his nerves he would’ve downed everything in his medicine cabinet and called it a night.
He’s put everything he is into this hope that he could possibly get a second chance, full well knowing he’s undeserving of one.
So he’s not about to let her go so easily.
Jimi’s actually not that hard to find on the lot, especially now that she has a door with her name on it. She’s certainly made her way up, having turned her previous doodles in the margins of production notes and discarded scripts into a new position complete with a title and an office.
He knocks at the door with her name on it, and waits a moment, what sounds like the dumbo soundtrack quickly being drowned out by the heart-pounding in his ears. She doesn’t keep him waiting long, as she opens up the door only to immediately close it just enough so that only her head is sticking out. “Fittings are next week,” she says neutrally before she then proceeds to try to close the door in his face. He is too fast though as he shoves his foot in the crack and pushes it open.
“Jimi, please,” he pushes the door further, but stops once he sees the panicked look on her face. He holds his hands up in surrender but makes no move to remove the foot.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in annoyance, before she opens her mouth again. “If I promise to talk, will you leave me alone after this?”
So sure of himself he nods, truly believing that he just needs to explain and then they can go back to the way they used to be.
She puts a hand on his chest to motion him to step away from the door before she herself comes out. She does so in the oddest way possible, by sliding herself between the door and the frame, as though she was trying to prevent him from seeing inside her office. She looks back inside and tells who he presumes to be the others she shares the office with that she’s gonna get lunch, and to hold everything down.
“So you want to talk? Talk then,” she states, breaking that line of thought as she leans against the bulletin board.
He figures she would have such a no nonsense reaction like this, and takes a steadying breath in order to deliver what
“Jimi… I know why you’re mad,” he starts off slowly. “Believe me I would be hoppin’ mad if i read that…”
“I forgive you,” she cuts in. “We done here?”
“Wh-what?”
“Are we done here?” She repeats slower this time to really emphasize her words.
“N-no Jimi,” he begs. “The things the papers said are just lies. I ain’t ever said that”
She gives a short mirthful laugh when she hears that, “Elvis if I had a fucking dime everytime I heard that line,” she rolls her eyes. “But it’s fine. I don’t care anymore. I’m not in the business of telling the papers anything, so you don’t gotta worry about everyone figuring out you’re a hypocrite.”
“But… I’m not…”
She pats his cheek and gives a thin smile as she pushes herself off the wall, and gives a dry, “Of course you’re not.”
“Jimi listen to me,” he begs, briefly wondering why Jesse had to pick the most stubborn woman alive for him. “I never said any of that.”
“Mhmm,” she hums, the thin line of her mouth and the way she’s checking her nails for dirt, telling him she has no faith in his words.
“Jimi,” he pleads with her, taking her hand and placing it on his chest. “You gotta believe that I would never say somethin’ like that. I love you so goddamn much and I especially ain’t never wanted to hurt you.”
She may not be able to rely on her knowledge of him, but he knows her well enough to know that she recognizes good acting from bad acting. Watching as her eyes soften from their previous hard stare, he knows that she understands that this is far from an act. This is by far the most honest he’s been with anyone since his mama passed, and the doubt in her own assumptions of him shows all over her face.
He thinks he’s finally getting through to her, until she glances behind him and he watches as her dark eyes harden once more. “You don’t love me, and it doesn’t matter what I believe Elvis,” she snatches her hand out of his, and walks back towards her office before slamming the door.
He stands there for he doesn’t even know how long, trying to justify why he should even keep breathing at this point, his catatonic state only helping to prevent him from doing something stupid in the face of the worst rejection he’s ever had. This isn’t a girl laughing in his face over being asked to the school dance or a stuffy actress looking down her nose at his hillbilly ways, this is a part of his soul refusing to come back to him.
This can’t be the end, a voice in his head whispers. He tries to repeat these words in his head if only to make the hope he has a little more real. He knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as him returning, and she would automatically throw herself into his arms. He already knew it was going to be an uphill battle for her love once again, but the flat-out rejections and refusal of his declaration just made everything so real in that moment.
When Jimi cares, she does so with all her being, and he knows at some point she cared enough about him to befriend him, and there’s no way that all disappeared in the last two years. To some extent she still cares about Elvis, and that’s why he refuses to give up on her so easily.
But she’s not one to be swayed so easily.
Gifts and letters and songs for her, are all met with the same stony indifference that has marked her status as near untouchable. Her schedule is next to unpredictable as it seems that everytime he does try to send someone over for her she’s conveniently out of the office.
Each rejection further drove him closer and closer towards that edge he’d been resisting since he landed in Germany. He would toss and turn at night, not wanting to be alone but at the same time wanting no one but Jimi with him. It’s even worse than it was before considering the fact that she’s so close that he could almost touch her, but she’s like smoke, he can see her there but never truly grab a hold of her.
Something that only intensifies once shooting actually begins and he knows just how close she is day in and day out on the lot. It’s nothing short of torture to have all that he needs in life so close, yet just out of reach.
Off camera and out of the studio he’s barely keeping it together, the years of pretending to be okay in front of people only barely enough to sustain the image he’s made for himself as well as doing the job he was tasked with. Everybody wants a piece of him now that he’s back, and he doesn’t know if he has any left to give anymore.
It all came to a head one day when he walks into the wardrobe building and sees one of the girls holding a small toddler girl. It strikes him how similar the little girl looked to Jimi back in her firecracker days, even down to the ribbon tying her hair back. He muses for half a second that that’s what their daughter would look like, and then it hits him like a ton of bricks that may never come to pass.
He’s trying to make her not hate his guts, and with how little success he’s been having, he’ll be lucky if she even looks at him again before he’s Dodgers age. He’s closer to never having her love him again than he is to someday.
He had come with the intention of showing her the bandana he had been holding onto all of these years, to show how devoted he’s been to her. Now holding it in his hands and remembering that initial promise to give it back to her, he realizes what a fool he’s been. He’s been selfishly holding onto something that’s not there anymore, because he was too much of a coward to actually do what he needed to get what he wanted.
He didn’t want to believe it was too late for them, but seeing that little girl, he realized how much time he’s lost. Where he’s spent the last two years nurturing his love for her, she's been feeding her hatred for him. If he’s gonna be in love with her for the rest of his life, she’ll hate him for the rest of hers.
She’s made it clear that she wants nothing to do with him anymore, and he can’t blame her for it. He should’ve been there for her, damn the consequences, but he wasn’t and now he has to live with what he did.
Though once he gives it back, jury's out on how much longer he will live.
Resolved in his need to do right by her, he solemnly walks to the costume department with about the same enthusiasm as he would the gallows. Perhaps there is no coming back from this, and perhaps he wouldn’t deserve one either way. He was a coward who let what he wanted walk away time and time again, not having enough will to hold on to her.
And he doesn’t have the strength to try to hold on any longer.
Finally as he’s just about to turn the corner to where he knows her office is, only to stop in his tracks, and realize that once he gives it back… it’s all over. He’s strangely okay with that once he reconciles he won’t be feeling that way for much longer.
Turning the corner he sees a familiar figure looking at a bulletin board, and standing right beside her was a significantly smaller figure.
It takes him a moment to realize what he’s looking at, but the second he does it feels like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs.
He’s tempted to look down at his own feet to reassure himself he's still on solid ground, and that the floor hadn’t been taken out from under him, but truly no force on Earth could make him look away from the little one at her feet.
The boy is standing barely taller than her knee, wearing light green overalls with what looks to be a little yellow duck on the front pocket. His honey hair - a few shades darker than Elvis’ own natural locks- is slicked back on the sides allowing for some bronze curls to hang over his forehead but it’s really his face that comes like a punch to the gut to Elvis.
Vain as it may sound, Elvis knows his own face, even when it’s softened with baby fat and slightly darkened from the California sun, and that’s all he sees when he looks down at the brown-eyed little boy that’s clutching onto a woman’s skirt and idly sucking his thumb.
It’s as he’s wondering what happened to his eye color when the eyes in question finally take notice of him, and the little boy rapidly tugs at the pencil skirt he’d had a tight grip on. In his head he’s still trying to justify any other way someone could have a little clone of himself that isn’t the most obvious answer, until he watches Jimi crouch down in her heels as she gently strokes the little boy's plump cheek.
“¿Que paso Papi?” she asks, adoration in her voice as she brings him close to her face, before planting a kiss on his cheek.
The boy, too shy or too young, to answer only points a chubby little finger his way, his dark eyes wide in wonder. As her eyes follow, Elvis sees her jaw clench and most of her previous warmth seemed to sap out of her at the very sight of him. It truly feels like the first time she’s actually looked at him in a long time without her eyes immediately sweeping over him dismissively, so he can’t help but welcome it.
In one fluid motion, she competently scoops up the small boy up in her arms and begins to make her way towards him, her heels clacking ominously as though she were an oncoming vengeful mother goddess set to rain down fire upon him.
Elvis is usually quicker on his feet but it feels as though they had been replaced by cement as he’s frozen in place with no sign of escape. But he doesn’t think he really wants that anymore as it now gives him a better look at the boy.
“Can I help you?” she asks, painfully neutral, as though she’s simply asking what he wants for lunch and not in fact holding a mini version of himself in her arms.
“Wh-” he starts but has to swallow before he can get too choked up. “What the hell is this?”
“It looks like,” she answers and he perks up at that both eager and fearful of what she has to say. “My old bandana,” she states, much to his confusion, until he follows her dark eyes to the fabric still within his grasp.
Her flippancy just enrages him, “You know damn well what I mean!” pointing a finger in the direction of the small boy in her arms. Guilt quickly eats at his belly as the boy turns from him and buries his face in her neck out of fear, as she continues to look at him with the disdain in her eyes only growing.
“Oh…” she says dryly as though she only now remembers the boy in her arms, even though she had been consistently rubbing soothing circles on his tiny back since he got scared. “This is my son.” A simple no-nonsense answer, but he doesn’t miss the way she neglects to mention a name. “You can go ahead and throw it away, I don’t need it anymore.”
He wants to say something about that. He wants to be mad at her for being so goddamn stubborn about this as though his whole world isn’t being rocked right now. But he can’t muster any of that as he just finds himself just wanting to look at the boy in her arms some more. The little one looks back and forth between the two of them, but he does seem to settle after gauging that his mama is not in the least bit shaken by the man before them, and adopts her bored looking expression, though the boy does keep a wary eye on him even as his mother turns them both away from him.
“Wait,” he says as he quickly grabs her elbow. Her hackles rise at just that little bit of contact, like a rattlesnake coiled up and ready to strike, but he won’t be stopped from knowing the truth. “Is… is he-”
“No,” she cuts him off, before looking over his shoulder and closing her eyes- seemingly in annoyance- only to then plaster a wide phony smile on her face as she looks at him. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention.” saccharine sweet, as though she had been in a completely different conversation before ripping her arm out of his grasp and walking past him. “I’ll be sure to add those notes into the costume.” Without even a goodbye she rushes past him.
He turns around to see the second most gut-wrenching thing of the day as a woman approaches Jimi and hands over to her another child,and he realizes it’s that same little girl from earlier. The love of his life expertly balances the additional toddler on her other hip as she plants a swift kiss to her cheek before exchanging a few words with the woman in front of her and walks back down the hall, not even bothering to look back at him.
That woman quickly approaches and stands in front of him, obviously trying to run interference between the two of them. Trying to keep the two of them apart like everybody else has seemingly made their mission.
He honestly hears nothing of it as he starts to tail Jimi down the hall, his entire focus is on the little girl, heart-breakingly sweet with her little cherubic face, her dark curls held at bay with the red ribbon, as she opens and closes her tiny hand at him as though to once again say good-bye. Meanwhile the little boy, whose face is still firmly in his mama’s collar, risks a quick peek back at him before quickly burying himself back in place as the echo of yherour heels on the linoleum floors lessens as she gets further and further away.
He’s able to catch her before she can get out of the building, quickly blocking her from the exiting door. She still has that infuriating cool expression on her face, looking at him as though he were a mere inconvenience on her way out the door.
“Jimi…” he pleads, taking her shoulders in his hands forcing her to look at him. “Jimi, look me in the eye, and tell me they ain’t mine.”
She gives him such a cold stare that he can feel a shiver travel down his spine, the dread of her words tying his stomach in knots, as he anticipates her answer. Somehow she’s able to make it all the crueler, even as her (his?) son starts to suckle on the collar of her blouse, while her (their?) daughter has managed to dislodge a chunk of her thick dark locks from her braid and begin to play with it.
“Why would I want them to be yours?”
A punch to the gut, a kick to his face, a knife to his heart, those are all the things he would have preferred she had done over saying that. For a second, even she seems taken aback by the cruelty of her own words, until that hard look returns to her eyes as the little boy begins to pat her cheek for attention.
She looks down at him with a soft smile on her face before giving them both a kiss to the forehead and sidestepping him in order to get out the door, not even bothering to acknowledge him.
He doesn’t know how long he stays in that spot but by the time Joe (or was it Charlie?) finds him and he’s practically stiff as a board, and just about as responsive. Nobody fights him on it when he just declares that he has to call it for the day, so it’s not too long before he’s kicking off his shoes and crawling underneath the covers still fully clothed. His mind raced, doing its best to put together what the hell he had seen today. Trying to comprehend how much of himself he had left behind with her.
When he started making waves he had to have the most awkward talk of his life with the Colonel to always wrap it or at least become proficient in never finishing inside of a woman, because the last thing he needed was a baby. And he was for it completely, nowhere ready to settle down yet, and with everything looking so vibrant and new to him, he saw no end in sight.
He can think of one night in particular back in New Orleans, after almost twenty hours on set, Jimi had excused herself from any of the usual get-togethers and headed straight to his room. After she had declared that her room situation is unmanageable she had set up shop initially on his hotel room couch, though lately they hadn’t even been bothering with that pretext. So it wasn’t too shocking to find her in his bed, spread out on her front like a starfish in nothing but a simple slip.
What was shocking was the wave of contentment that washes over him seeing her there, just the utter feeling of rightness that the image brings. The powdery blue slip gorgeous on her dark skin tone, and he has to hold back a groan when he sees how high it’s ridden in her sleep giving him a tantalizing view of the back of her thighs, just effortlessly sensual, even in her sleep. He can’t imagine anything better to come home to. What he found even more tempting was her defenseless pert nose, and remembering the way it would scrunch up when she smiled. He knows he’s either going to get that reaction or swift punch to the chest for what he does next.
She still manages to keep him on his toes when she simply does both after he peppers her face in kisses. He reels a bit from the blow, playing up the injury just a little as he sees her shoulders bounce a little in poorly held in laughter.
“They gotchu workin’ to the bone sweetheart,” he remarks, as he rubs the spot between her shoulder blades that has her giving a euphoric groan. He is genuinely offended that the studio would make her have to work like a dog, all for a single line in the credits.
“This whole production would fall apart without me,” she sighs, while he lets out a laugh in agreement.
“You ever think about quittin’?” He asks a bit off the cuff, but he can’t help it seeing the woman he loves running herself ragged for people who sure as hell don’t care for her.
“Maybe,” she answers through her drowsy state, turning to face him directly. “I don’t think I would leave, but maybe if I get married I would probably do something with less hours, like costumes.”
He felt his heart speed up a little when she mentioned the word “married” but not in the way it used to do when other girls brought up the idea. No, rather than having that sour feeling in his belly, he’s practically giddy over the prospect with her. “So I guess ya just waitin’ for the right actor to sweep you off ya feet darlin’?” he brings her close, smiling into her hair and absentmindedly stoking the hand she lays on his chest.
But this happiness is ripped away by a simple snort from her, only to then be further crushed into dust as she has a full-on laughing fit at the mere prospect.
“No,” she says, wiping the tears from her eyes, trying to get a hold of her laughter, unknowing of how soul-crushing her words are. “I’d never marry an actor.”
It feels like every ounce of hope for the future saps out of him at that moment.
“O-oh wh-why’s that?” fighting to keep his face from showing the devastation he feels inside. A knife in his heart would have been preferable at that point, because then she would have at least acknowledged he had one to break.
She gives a mere shrug, of her shoulders, “I don’t really know how to explain it other than it wouldn't work.”
If he were a braver man, he would have had the balls to ask her “If that’s true… then what’s all this been about?” But he's a goddamn coward and this question dies on the tip of his tongue, far too afraid of what she may answer.
As these nights usually talking leads to kissing and while she is willing she offers first to use her mouth, and while he doesn’t hold back the groan when he hears this, he knows that that won’t be enough for him even if he can’t pinpoint why.
“Okay,” she yawns, as she lifts her hips up, presenting her ass in the air while she wraps her arms around a pillow and sleepily buries her face in it. “But you gotta do all the work.”
She’s done this before, tried to feign indifference toward the act, and tried to play it off that she didn’t absolutely enjoy it each and every time. This is a game that Elvis has yet to lose.
He knows her well enough to know how to get her going even when she insists she’s not in the mood. How a light touch up her spine as her perk her ass up, while a nibble to her ear has her making the most adorable little noises. And still it feels like he learns something new about her everyday, with today’s new lesson that she loses all of her carefully crafted composure when he sits on his knees and raises her thighs over his shoulders.
She lets out a surprised gasp as she barely catches herself on her hands, only for it to turn into a low moan when he takes a long lick up her slit. Nothing tastes sweeter on his tongue than the evidence that she wasn’t as disinterested as she claims, and with her so nicely open for him now he plunges his tongue as deep as he could go.
Any semblance of composure is gone the moment he had almost entirely upside down, her arms shaking with the effort to try to keep herself up.
“You like that sweetheart?” he whispers, only slightly muffled by her flesh.
“Yes,” she moans enthusiastically as he feels her small hand palm at his still clothed length, and he gives a little chaste kiss of appreciation on her clit that has her gasping for air. While any other night he would’ve gladly indulged her need to taste him, he did promise to do all of the work. So as he delves his tongue as deep as it could go he knows she’s good and ready as he feels her slick drip down to his wrist as he rubs that button of hers.
She lets out a devastating sob as she comes, and before she’s had a chance to recover barely had time to recover before he’s flipping her over and pressing her knees to her chest as he thrusts inside all in one motion. Her back arches and her mouth opens and closes repeatedly, gasping for air as though she could feel him all the way in her throat.
Entering her is always such an indescribable feeling, somewhere between euphoric and comforting. And there have even been days when the only thing on his mind on set was how best to get her alone so that he could get her like this once again. As he crams his cock at a steady rhythm, he imagines it’s the same way everyone else who goes to work on a regular job pictures being home at the end of the day.
If he was a little rougher that night, it was only so that she could feel a fraction of his anguish that she caused. He both envies and resents her ability to be able to picture a life without him, when no future of his would be complete without her.
He had spilled in her before that point, but it had always been an accident as something about her made him slower on the draw than he was with anybody else. But in that moment before he knew he was gonna cum, seeing her thrash and arch her back and push even further into him, time seemed to slow for a second and there was a moment where he saw quick as lightning just the image of her heavy and glowing with a baby.
His baby.
He can’t remember a time he came so hard, and with the way she collapsed back in the pillow he knew she was just as affected by it too. The way she’s quaking with every breath before peaking out at him through the curtain of her hair is something he doubts he’ll ever forget as places light kisses on her shoulders to add some tenderness to the rough act.
With great reluctance and curiosity getting the better of him he pulls out his softened member, and he’s treated to the most erotic thing he’s ever seen in his life as he watches his seed slowly drip out of her folds. If he wasn’t absolutely sure that that last one had taken everything out of him he would be ready to go again from the sight of this alone.
Something in the back of his head whispers to find something to plug her up to really make sure it takes this time. But before he can act on this he sees her get her bearings on her, and she reaches between her legs. She gives a soft curse as she sees his spend on her fingers, before making a move to roll out of bed towards the bathroom. But he was quick to snatch her back and tell her to just lay with him until he fell asleep. She would only give an annoyed little huff, and give sleepy demands for beignets for breakfast in return for this favor.
He slept easier that night with his hand on her belly, believing that he would be able to find a way to keep her with him.
This would be far from the last time he would spill in her during production, but it would be the last time he could call it an accident. If he’s being honest with himself he thinks he fully intended to get her pregnant in some sort of convoluted plot to get her to settle down with him. That once she had a baby in her, she would have no choice but to marry him and leave it all behind. No more ungrateful sister or disparaging mother, Jimi could finally focus all of her attention on a family that would take care of her back.
But then everything happened all at once, and suddenly she was beyond his reach, and soon she took with her all of his hopes of having a life worth living.
Since his career had taken off, more than a few women had already accused him of fathering their babies. Of the few of them that weren’t talking outta their ass, he had seen a few of the kids, and while there were some that may have had a few features similar to him, none had come close to the little clone boy he had seen of himself in Jimi’s arms.
Others woulda chalked it up to just him getting older and wanting to settle down and any baby with a passing resemblance woulda done this to him. But there was something even beyond longing, it was that sense of rightness that has been missing from his life for a long time, something he wouldn’t’ve gotten with just any baby.
On the day they were shooting with the babies he tried to test this theory. But even holding a few of the kids, not a single one of them was able to stir anything close to that fatherly warmth that just looking or even thinking about the two little ones she held that day.
It’s not like he felt nothing holding these babies, like he wished them any harm, but he more or less cared about them the same way he would care about a random puppy: fun to play with in the moment, but didn’t really mean he cared enough for the hard or messy parts of taking care of it.
As he’s holding probably the biggest one of the lot, he realized this one is still smaller than either of his babies. Someone off-handedly asked how old this one was, he feels his throat close up at the answer.
A Year, he thinks to himself as he hands the slobbering infant back to its mother. How much did I miss? Can they walk? Can they talk?
Even as their mamas were packing them up to leave for the day, all of them would wave goodbye to him, but none of it compared to the heart-wrenching feeling remembering those two little ones she held in her arms.
In his heart he knew they were his, he didn't care what she had to say about it.
Two people, both from a set of twins, get together and create the two most beautiful and perfect babies he’s ever seen, and she thinks that means nothing? That she can just step away from him and deny him his rights as a father?
What did he miss all this time away? The boy was standing on his own, so did he already take his first shaky steps? The little girl was babbling nonsense to him, has she been able to actually make words?
Lord, he doesn't even know their names. He has so many questions and next to no answers.
But even for all the anguish it’s causing him, he can feel it in his chest how their existence has reinvigorated him beyond what he thought he was capable of anymore. He had been on the cusp of hopelessness, fully believing that without he wouldn’t be long for this world without Jimi.
But seeing them was like seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, now knowing that Jimi couldn’t get rid of a piece of him, proves it’s not too late for them.
So he went about getting answers the same way she taught him to: ask the crew. To his luck everybody seemed to know something or another about what Jimi had been up to the last few years. Through the various tidbits here and there he was slowly able to piece together a story.
How some asshole had taken advantage of her grief after losing her entire family with promises to take care of her in her time of need, and how he didn’t even wait till the ink was dry on the marriage certificate before scurrying his ass back to Mexico leaving her with less than half of her inheritance and a couple of babies in her belly. She came back to Paramount as a costume designer a couple months back after calling in a few favors with some of the higher-ups, and has been flagrantly breaking the rules by bringing the babies on to set.
Jimi wasn’t lying when she said that make-up girls hear everything there is to know in this town. Unfortunately he finds out the hard way that that goes for all of them, even those that now work in the costume department.
“I hear you’ve been asking about me,” a familiar voice would coldly say as she wrapped the cape around his neck.
He doesn’t have to look up to know who it is, but he does look around to make sure the other make-up girl was gone. This at the very least confirms that she’s keeping her cards as close to her chest as possible, and trying to prevent anybody from figuring it out.
“I had a right to know Jimi,” he answers, not looking directly at her face but through the mirror. A trick he learned when he first met her when he wanted to get her genuine reaction on something, he could only do so when she thought she wasn’t being looked at directly. It still proves to be true when he sees her jaw clench the slightest bit at his comment.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says apathetically but immediately contradicts herself when she gives a firm yank to his hair so that he’s looking right up at her.
He gives a small grunt, though he does smile a bit at finally being able to get a reaction out of her. “Well now, last time I saw you like this-”
“Elvis,” she cuts off sharply before she grits out, “Leave. It. Alone.”
Now it’s his turn to react as his jaw clenches in frustration at the audacity. “Why should I?”
“Elvis…” she says slowly like he’s a child. “What do you think is going to happen if you are the father?”
He opens his mouth to argue with her, only to come up short. He hadn’t really thought farther ahead other than being able to have them all in his life. But what would that mean for them? How would people react to him not only having kids now, but having them this whole time and only now stepping up?
“That’s what I thought,” she says, placing down the comb. “Don’t worry,” she pats his cheek, maybe a little harder than necessary, “Nobody’s gonna believe they’re yours after what you said.”
He explodes hearing this, “How many times do I gotta tell ya?! I didn’t say that shit!” He stands to his full height to tower over her.
“It doesn’t matter Elvis!” she says, raising her voice for the first time since he’s known her, not in the least bit intimidated by him. “Do you really think they’re gonna just accept that you had two kids out of wedlock, and especially with a Mexican woman? Especially now that they’re trying to sell you off as this wholesome family act, do you think the studio is gonna stand for that shit.” Her eyes begin to go a bit glassy as she says the next part. “Your career might be in danger, but my literal life is at stake if they even think I could be a threat to the comeback they’re trying so hard to make happen for you.”
She squeezes her eyes shut at this point like she’s trying to will the tears back into her eyes, and her chest seems just a step away from being considered heaving, making it clear to Elvis she is trying so hard to keep the image she’s crafted for herself intact. Elvis can appreciate how yet again he’s the only one able to look past the curtain and see her for who she is.
Finally after taking a deep breath her bloodshot eyes open and she gives a somber, “Do you know how my last movie ended?” Her voice severe and distant, her hands placed on the hinges of the trailer door.
He’s a little stumped by the heel-turn of this conversation, but he plays along if only to convince himself he still has a chance to convince her otherwise. “You got your folks back together didn’tcha?
“No,” she says bitterly. “That last movie ended with the worst box office turnout of the year, because it was banned in most southern states -including yours- because the white man ended up with the mexican mother,” there the sardonic smirk on her face tells him she finds little humor in what she’s saying. “The studios forced us to tell that story and blamed us when nobody wanted to see it…”
“Jimi,” he starts placing a hand on her shoulder before she rips it away. “Baby, it’s a different time now,” though even he realizes how hollow those words are.
“Let me finish!” she shouts, tears trailing down her face as she looks back at him. “This isn’t a movie,” she declares. “There is no happy ending for anybody if you keep digging. Not for you, not for me, and especially not for my babies.”
Our babies, is on the tip of his tongue, but he holds back.
“I’m not gonna have my babies a part of that life Elvis,” she glares at him. “They don’t need you. I don’t need you.” She turns her head and he can see the tears that threaten to fall in the corners of her eyes. “So just… leave it.”
And with seemingly the final word, she walks out of his trailer and he falls back heavy into his chair, utterly exhausted by the encounter. His chest feels tight, the shallow breathes he’s able to take doing little to remedy the feeling, his hands shaking out of fury and grief for the life that’s been stolen from him. On top of all of that his vision starts to blur with the tears clouding them, but that doesn’t stop him from noticing the movement in the mirror.
He quickly gathers himself as best he could and turns to face whoever just entered his trailer, but he finds himself alone. That is until he looks at the mirror again.
He knows he must look a mess right now, but the mirror doesn’t reflect that whatsoever with the stony features he sees looking back at him. Elvis knows his face, and he knows when he’s not looking at his face. But Elvis knows who this is even before he opens his mouth with the only words he’ll speak to him.
“Go getcha girl,” Jesse whispers.
And just like that he’s gone, and Elvis looks at his own reflection once again. With that little bit of brotherly guidance, Elvis comes to one startling realization: She’s right.
She’s right, this isn’t a movie.
So that means he doesn't gotta be nice about getting her back.
He’s spent the last nearly two years planning how he was going to apologize to her over something he didn’t even do. Where is the justice in that? It’s as though she’s only capable of seeing him in the worst possible light.
If she want’s a villain so goddamn bad then he’ll give her one.
What a cruel power did God give to women. To take a piece of man, to mold and create something so wonderful and joyful, only to be able to deny him that if she felt so inclined. Usually the duplicitous ones will take from one man and claim it to be from another, all for gain, but Jimi is far more sadistic with this power, to hold two little mirrors in her arms and deny him his very own image.
It’s enough to drive a lesser man insane.
No.
She’s not gonna deny him this.
Jesse may have gotten him started on this path, but he can no longer just rely on fate to bring them together. He will take matters into his own hands, and they will be together.
He remembers the first time he had seen one of her films as a kid. It was his 8th birthday and he had begged his Mama to let him go to the movies to see literally anything that day, and it so happened to be that one where the two sisters unintentionally thwarted some robbers in their house.
He remembers laughing as Nena was sent into one room only for Mena to rip down the hallways as soon as the door was closed much to the confusion of the would-be criminals. He remembers the fear he felt when Mena seemingly fell out a window with the next shot being one of them lying on their stomach on the ground only for the next scene to reveal they had pulled the old switcheroo. He remembers the end when their parents finally came home and were glad that them burglars didn’t get their most precious treasures- their daughters.
Most of all he remembers glancing over at the empty seat next to him and wondering if these were the sort of antics him and Jesse were meant to get up to. His mama never kept his brother a secret from him, always telling him how he’d have the strength of two, but he always knew on some level she would have preferred two regularly strong boys rather than just one really strong one.
That feeling he got when looking at the vacant seat next to him is the same feeling he gets everytime he looks at his Hillcrest home now. The realization as to how fundamentally empty a home is without a family to fill it.
Fate denied him his brother before he even entered the world. Death had snatched his mother out from under him. And that horrible Stanley woman was working double time to take his daddy away from him too. He’s not about to let Jimi keep him away from any more of his family, just because she wants to be stubborn.
Now, knowing of their existence he knows he needs them in his life. He needs her in his life.
The PI didn’t disappoint, when you got enough money and notoriety in this town, they tend not to. He hardly batted an eye when Elvis had mentioned that there were kids out there that were potentially his, though he did give a funny look when Elvis told him he actually wanted him to dig up proof that he was the father, which is apparently rather novel in this town.
Though what the PI brings back is painful in its own way. He mostly focused on what could be dug up through paper records both legally and illegally obtained: house deeds, birth certificates, medical records, wills etc.
That’s how he finally learns the names of his children.
Alejandro and Mireya.
Big names for babies that are so little, he thinks to himself. Only to realize that they will one day grow into them, and he’s wasting time not being with them.
By all accounts, Jimi’s doing just fine: house is paid off, bills get paid on time, food is plenty, and she’s apparently in the market for a nanny. But a deeper look revealed that she’s pissing through her savings right now and with the way things are going she’ll be out of money in maybe another ten years, something she must have realized if she came back to work at all. Elvis finds himself exasperated that her stubbornness will cause her and the little ones to sink before she ever thinks to ask for help.
But it's the few and far between snapshots of the little family that threaten to do Elvis in. He has to fight the urge to frame them as they are all so wonderfully domestic. Strolls through the park, trips to ice cream shop, stops at the grocery store, and everything else that would paint the perfect family portrait of a young, beautiful mother and her two adorable babies.
Everything except for a father.
Though some of the most painful ones to look at were the ones from her day at the beach with them. He can almost pretend that he is the one behind the camera, that he took these pictures of her and the little ones on a family outing and not in fact a shameless voyeur of the life that should by all rights be his. In one of them, they were facing the camera as they looked out to the vast ocean before them, Jimi crouched down by the shore line as she held their little hands so they could properly get their feet wet. She wears a wrap around her one piece bathing suit in a facsimile of modesty and he already knows she turned a few heads that day. Little Alejandro is wearing a swim ring and practically wrapped around Jimi’s leg while Mireya’s wearing little floaties and pulling on her mama’s hand to try to go deeper.
So wholesome and idyllic, he can practically picture the entire day in his head.
How he would come up behind her and swing them back and forth on the shore line as though he were about to toss them in while they squealed in delight.
How he would play with them in the sand until she insisted on them taking a nap under the umbrella while their parents could have a breather to have lunch.
How she would lay beside them and from his position he could shamelessly leer at their mothers figure.
How the day would knock them out on the car ride home and they would both quietly bring the little ones in the house and place them in their cribs and how she would wrap herself around his arm as they both gazed down at the two little miracles before them.
How he would bend her over right outside the hallway and fuck her raw so that they would never have a day at the beach without babies.
If that wasn't what Norman Rockwell pictured for the ideal family life, he doesn’t know what is.
Those last few weeks of shooting, he could hardly function knowing they were all out there, the few who knew what he was going through were unsure how to approach him. Some learned quickly that he wasn’t about to be questioned on this, others had to learn the hard way.
After the last day of shooting, Elvis would only idly register the fact that he had been sitting on a lounge chair staring vacantly at the pool. He hadn’t meant to, he just remembers after breakfast wondering how he’ll probably teach them how to swim there, and then all of a sudden the sun had already set for the day.
His buddies had apparently gotten so worried, they had ended up calling in reinforcements.
“Now my boy,” a familiar voice would say behind him. “I hear we been losin’ focus lately.”
As though on reflex Elvis feels his jaw clench in distaste. In a way the colonel was the best and worst choice to be the one to come talk to him. The worst because after learning what he knows, he wants little to do with the man anymore and the best because he needs someone to take out all this anger on before he can see the mother of his children again.
So Elvis really has to put all of his acting abilities to work at this moment, as he plasters on a phony grin and grits the teeth he’s liable to start gnashing at any moment. “I reckon I been more focused now than I been in a long time, Colonel.”
Bypassing what he just said, the man sits down on the lounge chair right next to him. “That’s not what I been hearin’ ‘from your buddies.” Elvis can see he has the clown head cane, which he adds to the list of things he’s finding infuriating about the man.
“And what they been sayin’?”
“How an old flame reared her head recently and has been getting in your head with some foolish notions of slowing down now of all times,” he says. “My boy, I warned you ‘bout women like this before. They can’t appreciate the hard work we been doin’ to make this life here, and simply will take from men ike us.”
As sour of a taste as that statement leaves in his mouth, that at the very least confirms that Parker doesn’t know dogshit about the sitation. He’s reminded of that time how she complained she never has time to take a cigarette break or something will catch on fire. Something that was proven true only moments after she put one in her mouth and then ten men were screaming fire. She would casually stroll up to it, extinguisher in hand, and use the inferno from the stagelight to light her cigarette before putting it out.
“You don’t gotta worry no more, my boy,” he starts patting around his jacket, only to pull out two cigars and a set of matches. This and the story gives him an idea as to how to prove his own convictions.
“Why’s that Colonel?” Suspecting what he’s getting at, but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“I had a word with the young lady you were so fond of back in New Orleans,” he started, every word of his making Elvis want to scratch his own skin off. “And rest assured we came to an agreement after a few words from yours truly,” he says as though that will somehow placate him. “She wants nothing more than for us to leave her and her little ones alone, and of course we can accommodate that,” he lights up a celebratory cigar and hands his client one as well as though they were in some anti stork club.
He once made the mistake of calling the Colonel something of a father figure to him, and he’s never been more disgusted with himself than right now. But he stays silent as he lets the “Colonel” before him dig his own grave.
“Trust me son, I get the urge to want to settle down,” he reassures him. “But you’re young and it ain’t like you don’t got all the options in the world. Next time ‘round you can have some babies with a proper American girl”
The Colonel doesn’t know it yet, but this statement truly solidifies his fate.
He doesn’t get it. None of these assholes get it. How can they? They ain’t ever lost someone like he did, like she did. They can’t see the value of family because they think that he can just make more of them with someone else? As though forces of a higher power hadn’t gone out of their way to bring them together.
Elvis can do nothing more than kiss his teeth at the older man’s ignorance, as he slowly but deliberately grabs the cigar from his mouth and looks him dead in the eye as he slowly stamps out the cigar on the unvarnished wooden side table.
Jimi was right. Words are nothing at the end of the day and it’ll be actions that will show them all how fucking serious he is about this.
“Those are my babies, and she’s my girl. And I ain’t gonna hear nothin’ more ‘bout it.” Elvis gets the pleasure of watching the Colonel gape like a fish only to then go red in the face as he goes back and forth between him and the small flames that are now beginning to dance on the table. He cuts him off before he can get another word in edgewise. “‘Sides I think marryin’ her would do wonders for my reputation down south.”
The portly man is surprised by his clients words and tries to quickly recover from the shock. “Son, I-I don’t think there’s notin’ down there we need to worry ‘bout,” he scolds as though Elvis were a child, trying desperately to reign him in.
“I used to think the same thing, ‘till I hired that PI to look into Jimi…” Elvis starts as he cuts the cigar, not even bothering to acknowledge the man’s concerns, “... and a few other things.”
“...what other things?”
“Funny you mention that Colonel. I had him look into where the hell those quotes came from. Y’know the ones that got me banned from Mexico. And boy did he have a story to tell,” his words are comically gleeful as he brings the cigar to his mouth. “One with high up there politicians, birthday parties, and blank checks. A story… my manager apparently knew all too well, but ain’t ever bothered to tell me.”
The only thing that could be heard in the moment was the light crackling from the flames between the two of them, and from it’s light Elvis can see the way that the sweat seems to pour off of the man in front of him. They both know that it has nothing to do with the fire.
“So-son, this is… it’s-it’s more complicated than you think,” Parker stutters, trying to desperately wrench back control of the situation. But Elvis already knows that the next chance he gets, he’s gonna cut ties with him… but Parker certainly doesn’t. And so for the time being he still has a role to play in this production.
“Now there’s two ways to take this,” Elvis says leaning back on the wicker chair as the flames begin to get higher and higher, attracting the attention of his boys outside, and they rush to try to do something about it. One single hand gesture from him has them all frozen in place, awaiting his command.
Good, these motherfuckers needed to be reminded who exactly is in charge here, even if he had to burn this whole place to the ground.
“One, a simple mistake that my manager made and will now do anythin’ to fix if he wants even a chance at his contract bein’ renewed pretty soon… or two…” he brings the still unlit cigar to the now three foot flames on the table beside him, the closest thing he’s done to acknowledge them. He even briefly blows out the flame on his cigar, really trying to draw it out, enjoying the way it makes the older man squirm in his seat. It’s only right considering how much grief he caused trying to hide his secret so long. But if Jimi had taught him anything about Hollywood, is that shit like this don’t stay buried forever. “My manager for some reason can’t leave the country and didn’t want me leavin’ it neither.”
It's an interesting experience to watch a man go from red in the face to completely white in horror. He opens and closes his mouth in disbelief more than a few times as though god himself will put the words in his mouth to smooth over this misstep. Any doubts Elvis had about the PI’s story melted away with each little tick the man before him made.
Jimi had taught him what makes for a good and bad actor, and boy oh boy did Parker make for a shitty one: the shifty beady eyes, the nervous tapping on his cane, the constant swallowing and clearing of his throat.
“So Colonel,” he states with a smoky breath, and no amount of venom missing from his voice for the man that- albeit unintentionally- cost him so much time with his family. “What’s it gonna be?”
The flames are by now as tall as a full grown man, and the fire has now fully engulfed the low table that was once there. All the boys are nervously shifting and shuffling about, wanting to put it out before it can get out of hand, but the hand that Elvis holds toward them keeps them in place, not a single one of them willing to go against him.
The message is clear to everyone though: give him what he wants or he will burn them all, and not just metaphorically.
“I-I,” the old man stutters looking down at his feet undoubtedly looking for help even from Hades himself, only to see as an ember finds a new home on his lone client’s pant leg.
Elvis does not acknowledge this.
Parker looks back up at him, only now comprehending who the hell he is dealing with.
“I’ll see what I can do my boy,” he finally answers breathlessly.
“Now that’s what I like to hear, Parker,” he gives an amiable clap to his shoulder before gesturing to the rest to take care of the inferno before them. They’re all in a dead sprint to deal with the fire and Elvis gives his foot a cursory dip in the pool to extinguish the flames creeping up his ankle, before walking away without another word to any of them.
With the Colonel and everyone else willing to do anything to get back in his good graces, things seem to run a lot smoother now.
Finding a lawyer willing to handle paternity suits is easy enough in this town, finding one that is willing to fight to establish his status as their father however… practically every lawyer that was consulted said it was near impossible for them to do so without the mother’s consent. Without even knowing who exactly they were meant to be representing they said the whole thing would be a wash if at the end of the day the mother remains obstinate against it, and regardless of any blood tests, no judge would believe that a woman would willingly say no to the support a man like Elvis could offer if it wasn’t the absolute truth that he wasn’t the father.
Needless to say that Elvis could only rely on the legal route so much. Though he did learn a few interesting things as to what would happen to children if the mother is deemed unfit.
And from there, he begins to cook up a truly awful and perhaps downright evil plan but he knows that the prize is worth the risk.
It’s gonna rely on all of his skills as an actor, and she’s been in the business too long to not know an act when she sees one. But he has one major advantage over Jimi in this department: She already expects the worst from him, so him doing this wouldn’t be a stretch in her eyes.
Even threatening to dig a little deeper into whether or not they were his, made her pull back even more, she’s not gonna make this easy for him, and part of him doubts he would want it to be so. He knows he’s not without options, and that women would practically tear down the door to be the one to give him babies.
But how can he just let her go?
Jesse couldn’t be here with him, that’s why he sent her his way. Elvis needed someone who would look out for him no matter what. And with Elena gone, Jimi needed someone to look out for. The two of them fit together like puzzle pieces really.
So he has to be smart about this. Nothing gradual because she will bolt the second she even gets a hint as to what he’s planning. So he takes a step back and allows the PI to learn all he can about her new schedule and what she’s got in the works.
She’s still working for Paramount, though only barely, as she now apparently only comes in once a week to talk with directors and drop off designs. Though it’s clear this is not for much longer as she’s apparently been tapped by some production company down in Mexico to come work for their wardrobe department.
It becomes apparent that he needs to work quickly if he wants to pull off his plan, when his request to have her work on his next movie is denied for the simple fact that she is apparently only sticking around Paramount long enough to finish off a few other productions. He’s honestly a little glad for this change, it just means he can put his plan to action a little earlier and they can be together sooner.
So it’s not even a week after the end of production does he find himself standing in front of her small, new house in East LA.
Elvis knows his influence on women, and despite what the papers say, he’s tried to use this for good. So when he walks up to Jimi’s door and knock, he does admittedly ham it up with the hand to lean on the door frame and the slightly unkempt hair falling over his forehead, a look he knows would make any woman weak in the knees. Especially a 13 year old babysitter.
The girl (Letty, he’s pretty sure the PI said), seems to be confused more than anything else, uncomprehending as to who stands before her. She’s far from the first or last to have this reaction but it shows that Jimi is playing her cards far too close to her chest that she wouldn’t know why he’s here.
“This here’s Jimena’s place?” He asks though he already knows the answer from the PI that’s getting paid hourly.
“Ye-yes,” she stutters, reaching a hand out only to quickly snatch it back as she confirmed he was really here.
“Perfect,” he grins, and he sees her look down bashfully. “I’m here to pick up the babies.”
This confuses the poor girl even more. “She… didn’t mention that.” Elvis has to hold himself back from telling her she couldn’t keep a father away from his children, but honeys and flies and all that.
“It’s a bit of a surprise for her.” He answers.
She’s still apparently unsure of herself, as she gives a weak point back inside the house as she says,“I-I think I sh-should ma-maybe call her.”
“How much you gettin’ paid by her?” he asks affably, though a little annoyed at the girl continuing to keep him from his babies.
“Five dollars a day and an autographed picture of Marlon Brando,” she answers, though she looks back down at her feet, as though embarrassed to be talking about another star she preferred in front of him. He doesn’t take it to heart, remembering Jimi complaining how she had more autographs than she knew what to do with.
“How ‘bout this,” he pulls out his wallet. “I’ll give you 50 and get you a personal meeting with Marlon, if you get the lil’ ones ready to come with me for the day and don’t say nothin’ to no one ‘bout whatcha saw today.”
The teen gapes like a fish at the offer and though Elvis knows it’s good for his plan that she didn’t automatically refuse his proposition, it is nonetheless disheartening that this is the girl Jimi had entrusted his babies to.
“I-I-I,” she looks at her feet, as though they’ll have the answers for the dilemma. “I don’t think I can let them g-go with a stranger.” she puts a bit more of her weight onto the door fully intending to close it.
“That’s the best part kid,” he pressed a palm to the door. “I ain’t a stranger to her.” The girl has no idea what kind of danger she’s in, and Elvis attributes that almost solely to Jimi’s influence. What’s a few lies when he knows he would do far worse if she dares to keep him away from his children any longer.
“Don’t let them papers know this,” he says in a conspiratorial whisper, full well-knowing that’s exactly who she’s gonna go straight to the moment she gets the chance to do so. “Y’see their mama and I… well we been seein’ each other for awhile, and now stubborn women she is, she don’t wanna go no further ‘til I can prove I’m ‘father material’ so I came down here to prove her wrong.”
She furrows her brow in confusion until her eyes go wide. “Wait… go further? As in…”
He takes a page out of Jimi’s book and gives a pursed grin while his eyes slide away from her, not even trying to deny her assumptions. Seeing her hold a hand to her mouth to cover her dramatic gasp, Elvis would like to think Jimi would be proud as to see how far his acting abilities have come.
The girl is apparently all too eager to play cupid as she quickly invites him in with a big grin on her face and ushers him towards a sitting room. Despite how cool he’s playing it he’s a nervous wreck on the inside, feeling like he’s about to walk into a test he knew he didn’t study well enough for.
But that all disappears the moment he lays eyes on them.
They can already do so much, he thinks as he watches them play though they don’t notice him, Mireya holding a whole baby conversation with her stuffed animals in between trying to feed them dry cheerios while Alejandro is making little humming noises around the pacifier in his mouth as he crawls to drive his little fire truck around. Eventually the tiny boy drove the toy straight into Elvis’ foot.
The small boy looks up at the new figure, and with the way he looks at him, Elvis doubts he remembers him. So he tries not to take it too personally when the boy silently gets up and scrambles behind one of the couches, only to then peek over the corner, as though to make sure he’s still there.
“Ale, Mimi, come say hi,” the young teen says in a soft voice before she turns around and leaves him alone with them. Those names feel much more fitting of the small babies he’s pictured in his head, and even more fitting as he leans against the door frame of the little sitting room.
Mimi almost immediately begins to toddle over to him with a little stuffed doggy tucked underneath her arm. She looks at him and again there is not an ounce of recognition in her eyes as she merely approaches him wraps her arms around one of his shins before immediately going back to her toys.
So much for the instant connection he was hoping to have with them, but he tries not to get too discouraged with this as he approaches. He crouches down next to his daughter and picks up a stuffed monkey and uses it to tickle her neck a little, and that has her shrieking in delight.
This does seem to settle Ale somewhat as he slowly comes from behind the couch to watch the two of them. Though he plops down right between them with his engine in tow and gives a wary look toward Elvis as though he means to act as her protector. He didn’t know it was possible to have a skeptical look while sucking on a pacifier, but his son somehow manages to do just that.
Elvis notices something in the boy's front overall pocket and when he reaches a hand to investigate it, his son is quick to react with an overhead swat to the intruding hand. Elvis can’t help but laugh at how very Jimi that reaction is.
Before he knows it the bags are all packed and it’s time to go. Ale looks more confused than scared as Elvis picks him up with his wide brown eyes, while Mimi on the other hand is in awe of being so high up and she immediately starts trying to reach for things that he thinks would usually be out of reach when held by her mama.
In the last few days he’s had ample time to imagine what exactly it would feel like to hold them in his arms, but all of it pales in comparison to the phenomena of the experience. Elvis is a man that has dabbled in many pleasures over the years yet all of that pales in comparison to just the utter rightness of this moment.
It’s an indescribable, euphoric feeling that makes him never want to let go of either of them, even if one is seeming indifferent to him while the other tries to squirm out of his grasp.
He had been prepared to sneak out the back with them or pass them out the window to Jerry before sneaking to the car, hell he contemplated that he would even have to simply grab them and run. He never in a million years would’ve imagined it was as easy as scooping them both up in his arms and taking a brisk walk out the front door to the car while the babysitter hands over a baby bag to him.
The fact that it was so easy was just further proof that he needed to get them out of there. What if it had been some crazy man that came in today and not him that took them?
“E.P. What the fuck?” Jerry asks, more tired than confused.
“Let’s get goin’ already.”
The car ride gives him some time to truly appreciate how beautiful his babies are.
Mimi has Jimi’s thick dark hair and her pouty lips, and those coupled with the cornflower blue gaze that came from him, he can already hear the heart's (and the kneecaps, Elvis will personally see to it) breaking across the country. And where Ale seems almost his exact copy, he can see Jimena’s touches here and there with the way his hair curls or the slight upturn of his nose. Truly it would be a crime to deprive the world of more pretty children like these two.
Mimi in turn seems to also be fascinated by his face, and he takes a few playful nibbles that has her squealing in delight. Though she does lose a bit of interest in him as the car starts and she gets to see the world around her rush past her. She makes sure to point out every animal she sees whether it be a dog, a cat, or even a squirrel, and Elvis finds himself enjoying every moment of it as it feels like he’s looking at this whole city through a new lens.
“Mida, mida,” she squeals in her tiny voice as she points to a bird. “pajado!”
Ale on the other hand is just looking up at him owl-eyed, too in shock as to what’s going on around to look at anything but at his father. He clutches on to his little firetruck like a shield still unsure of this whole thing but Elvis takes it as a small victory that he isn’t balling his eyes out. Elvis resorts to trying to make faces at him to get him to crack even a little though it becomes apparent that what this kid lacks in looks from his mother, he more than makes up for by having her personality, as he barely twitches at any face. Granted it is hard to tell around the pacifier he refuses to part with.
Jerry remains blessedly quiet for the rest of the car trip though Elvis doesn’t miss the occasional stolen glance from his young friend. The man -boy, really- had initially been on the side of letting sleeping dogs lie, and now Elvis pushes down the petty urge to hold up his own son to his face and have him try to deny his own image.
Elvis’ living room could honestly give Santa's workshop a run for his money with the sheer amount of toys and playthings that occupy it now. All his boys had apparently been working overtime trying to make Elvis forget how skeptical they had been in his beliefs, and trying to worm their way back into his good graces.
His daughter practically dives headfirst into the large pile of stuffed animals to be had, meanwhile his son stands in the middle of a treasure trove of toys, his red engine hanging limply from his hand, practically overwhelmed by choice. He eventually does settle on a set of blocks that he takes to stacking up only to ram his truck into the makeshift tower. Elvis can’t help the chest swelling contentment he feels in that moment seeing his babies love their new home so much.
He hardly sees anybody else all day, and he’s glad for it. He didn’t want any of them sticking around too long, as this was his chance to bond with his babies properly, and he didn’t need any of them to distract them. Aside from the occasional maid coming in to bring snacks or to change a dirty diaper, he gets an entire uninterrupted afternoon with the two.
Mimi was so eager to play with him and show him all of her little toys, with her favorites being the little stuffed dog she hadn’t let go of, it’s neck floppy as she clutched it in her tiny baby hand.
Ale thinks he’s subtle as he eyeballs Elvis most of the afternoon. He is not. He all but gapes at him when he thinks he’s not looking, only to turn around and try his darndest to look very busy with his blocks or cars when Elvis looks over to him.
He tries to approach the toddler, only for the boy to rebuff him each and every time by shuffling to the opposite end of the room, and setting up shop there. Elvis has to remind himself to be patient, knowing that his son is handling being in a new strange place with a man he only barely knows better than most kids would so he has to let the boy approach him first.
He could tell just by the way he watched Mimi like a hawk, that he was the older of the two, the same way Jimi always said she was with her sister. His weary attitude towards him only began to thaw out when Mimi stumbled over a block, somewhat able to catch herself on her hands but that doesn’t prevent her from still hitting her little forehead on the carpeted floor. Immediately father and son are at her side to comfort the wailing girl, Elvis crouching down to pick her up and rubbing her back, trying to imitate the few times he’d seen mothers do this, while Ale not fully understanding what’s wrong with her, only to tries to climb his father to try to take the girl in his own little arms and rest his head on her back.
After a few more tears and she had been allowed to thoroughly ruin his shirt, Mimi was able to calm down and go back to playing as usual. Ale seems to only then realize that he had gotten close to his father, and nothing bad had happened, so blessedly he doesn’t seem entirely too opposed to his presence anymore.
The only major hiccup of the entire evening was when Ale had entrusted Elvis with his most treasured toy. Elvis almost burst into tears when his son had reached into the front pocket of his overalls to pull out a small matchbox car, one that appeared to have been red at one point but had since faded into a light pink.
This coupled with Mimi’s favorite stuffed toy being a stuffed beagle… Elvis is not one to just name anything as signs from God, but those two together had to mean something.
And it’s frustrating to say the least that Jimi refuses to see this.
The twins begin to wind down around the evening, with full bellies and comfy pajamas on it’s not too long before Mimi practically falls asleep where she was playing, her little bottom in the air as she drooled all over her little blue doggy that now acts as a pillow.
Ale is far more stubborn about the whole thing, refusing to sleep even as he jealously looks over to his sister before stubbornly rubbing at his dark eyes and continuing to play with his toy cars.
“Don’t go down so easy now do ya’ son?” Elvis says as though he’s actually commiserating over his miserable sleep with a friend and not his toddler son. “You get that from me,” The boy at the very least now tolerates him being so close, but Elvis isn’t going to try to push it by picking him up. Instead he would gently pick up his daughter and hold her in one arm, while offering the other to his son, a clear invitation to the boy.
In spite of all his mulishness, Ale does eventually give in and makes little grabby hands signaling he wants to be picked up, and Elvis does admittedly melt a little at the sight. He’s quick to accept the invitation and picks the little boy up and takes them upstairs.
The nursery room as of right now is pretty barebones, having had to rearrange many things in the house, so as to make it a home for his family. But he thinks his boys managed to at least get the essentials with a crib and a rocking chair, and he figures that they can build from there.
The experience of not just holding his children at the same time but of actually getting to do the fatherly thing of singing them to sleep is incomparable to anything he’s ever had the chance to experience. Something so new, yet at the same time feeling like his whole life was leading up to this point. Mimi’s already asleep and he knows better than to wake a sleeping baby, so he sets her down in the crib first before sitting down in the rocking chair with his son in tow. Elvis admittedly doesn’t have a wide knowledge of lullabies, and he briefly panics for a moment until remembering the one he’s performed maybe a dozen times in the last few months.
They call your daddy Big Boots
And Big Boots is his name
It takes a big man to wear big boots
That's your daddy's claim to fame
It feels only appropriate to sing this to his own son, and in a way he’s glad that he performed this before meeting either of them. He doubted he would’ve been able to keep it together singing this to any other child now, knowing they were out there. Much to his relief, Ale eases up a little on his chest, resting his chin on his arms to better look at his father, not so defensive anymore.
Gonna tell you a little secret
You won't believe it's true
Did you know your daddy, Big Boots
Once wore little boots like you
Ale for the first time today removes his pacifier from his mouth and presses his tiny hand to Elvis mouth, seemingly entranced by the music leaving it and unbelieving that this is coming from a man and not a radio.
But where he was barely keeping it together while singing, Elvis can’t help his reaction when Ale lets out a soft little “daaa…”
His throat seems to close up and he has to blink away a few tears, but that doesn’t lessen the grin on his face. “Th-that’s right son,” he breathes, through quivering lips, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m your daddy.”
Something about that statement seems to settle something in the boy, as he finally puts his head on his chest and his breathing seems to even out. It’s as though he had been the ever vigilant man of the house. But now knowing that his daddy was home, he can finally lay his head down and rest.
Eventually he has to put him down once he sees Mimi start to fuss in her sleep, waving an arm around and grasping for something, but she quickly relaxes once her brother is within her grasp.
Elvis sits to watch them for a time, they’re simply so hypnotic to observe. The way they breathe in tandem and seem to gravitate toward each other, in a world of their own right now. It makes him wistful for the brother he never got to know. But wherever his brother may be right now, he feels joy that he can carry out his will and finally have a whole family once more.
One look out at the sun setting and the clouds rolling outside his windows, he knows it won’t be too long before she arrives. He wants to be able to relax but he knows he won’t be able to until all of his family is under his roof. But he knows her well enough, to know she’ll be home soon.
Finally he sees an unfamiliar pair of headlights shine behind the gates, before coming to a screeching halt and a familiar silhouette stands in front of the lights, to give a futile shake at the front gate. He can imagine she’s yelling to be let in, even muffled through the patter of the rain starting to really come down and the thunder rolling in the distance, he can just barely make out her voice.
He sees Lamar unlock the gate for her, but the moment his guard is let down she takes off running towards the front, which is when Elvis takes this as his cue to start heading down to meet her.
She was in no way prepared for this weather if her near see-through white blouse was anything to go by. Her makeup is running slightly, streaking down her cheeks making it impossible to figure out if it was rain or tears running down her face. All fury and passion, just like he loves her.
She angrily stomps past him, still trying to ignore him only for him to block her with his full body.
“How many times?” she grits out. “How many times must I turn you away?”
“I don’t know darlin’,” he whispers in a just as low voice. “As many times as it takes ‘til you figure out I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
“Cut the crap Elvis!” she shouts. “Where are they!?”
He responds with a single finger to his smirking lips. “If you wake ‘em, you gotta put ‘em down again.”
This immediately has her try to run past him towards the bedrooms, but he catches her in one arm over her waist and he sits her on the dining room table, sure to plant his hands on her knees so she doesn’t get any ideas.
“That’s enough Elvis,” she tries to rip his hands away from her. The way she’s all clenched up, lets him know that she would scream at him if it were an option. “You’ve had your fun, now just let us go.”
He just further smirks. “Y’know after all the things I learned ‘bout the last two years for you, I kept askin’ myself one thang,” he says pushing himself off the table to stalk towards her. “‘Why the hell is she still here?’”
Her jaw clenches tight at this, unwilling to meet his eyes. “I had to do what I had to do to support My babies.”
“Considerin’ what my guy dug up,” he starts making his way towards the table that has had her whole life laid out upon it. “You coulda worked anywhere else and left Hollywood behind a long time ago.” The heavy clench of her jaw and the daggers in her eyes tell him he’s getting close to the bullseye. “No,” he says, holding her chin between his fingers. “You stayed cuz you was waitin’ for me to get back.”
This infuriates her and she gives him a good shove, but he’s no longer in the mood to indulge her little tantrum so he stays put.
“Is that what you wanna fucking hear Elvis, then fine! They’re yours!” she shouts, a bit of a tremble in her voice. “Are you happy now? Will it help you sleep better at night knowing they’re yours? ”
“I’ll sleep better knowin’ they’re under my roof.”
She freezes at this admission. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talkin’ ‘bout the fact that you and the little ones are gonna be movin’ in with me.”
The silence that passes is near deafening and he gets the pleasure of seeing the reality of the situation set in in her face. She gives a short mirthless but undoubtedly forced laugh but there’s no denying the fear in her eyes.
Good.
After all, she was the one that wanted this when she wanted so badly to make him a villain in this. He’s not, he’s a father.
“All this time, I thought you were stupid,” she says, that sardonic, slightly scared, laugh still laced in her tone. “Turns out you’re just fucking crazy.” Anybody else he would’ve been offended, but he lets her barbs slide right off his back, because truly words are all that she has left anymore. He’ll let her have them. “In what world do you think this is gonna play out like you want it?”
He gives a soft smile and raises a hand to take her chin, only for her to quickly smack it away.
“The world the studio pays for.”
She gives a derisive snort, “And you think they’re gonna pay for you to ruin your image.”
He simply smirks at her, finding her ignorance cute. For all that she knows how to work the system, he understands how the system works. More importantly he understands that the system works for him. His only direct response is to slide her the papers his people drafted up for him.
“What the fuck are these?” she asks, her voice lower, trying to mask her genuine confusion.
“That there is the copy of the marriage license ‘you’” he uses air quotes, “signed six hours ago, and an officiant from the studio officially signed off on these.”
“I-I don’t understand,” she says, her voice smaller than he’s ever heard from her.
“Now Jimi let me tell you two stories, only one of ‘em’s gonna be in tomorrow’s paper,” he says, gently rubbing her cheek that she quickly slaps away. He retaliates just as swiftly with his hand splayed across her collarbone to lay her back on to the large dining table, just below the neck, not enough to choke her, but just enough to remind her who the fucking man of this house is. “One is how I went and got married to a single-mother of twins and I adopted them as my own.”
“I would neve-”
“Or…” he cuts in as he puts a little more pressure on her neck. “And this one is the one the studio prefers… I marry some random girl they pick out for me and we end up adopting two poor little orphans, ‘cause their mama decided to run off to Mexico in the middle of the night.”
Almost like he planned it, he can hear the thunder roll in the distance as the threat hangs in the air. In his heart he knows he would never go through with this, but Jimi doesn’t have to know.
All the anger drops from her face at that moment, in its place he sees something he’s never seen in her eyes: bold-faced fear. She showed her hand the other day when she told him why she wanted to keep the secret. He didn’t want to have to do this to her, but if it’s between having her fear him and staying with him vs not and her walking away, he will pick fear every single time.
He needs them in his life.
He needs her in his life.
“So you choose darlin’, which ones it gonna be,” he takes her chin between his fingers. She flinches slightly but knows she’s in no position to turn away from him now. “Either way… they’re comin’ with me.”
Elvis is not a gambling man, and he wouldn’t do this unless he knew what her answer was gonna be. She’s just as crazy for family as he is, she wouldn’t be able to handle not being able to have them. She’s probably the only one who is capable of understanding what he would do for those two as he has no doubt that she wouldn’t do the same in his shoes.
But between the two of them, only one of them had an entire studio willing to do whatever it takes to protect his image, no matter the expense.
And for all her worldliness and experience, she knows full well what happens when you get on the wrong side of the studios. She spent the better part of two years trying to prevent them from learning this, because making her disappear and having her babies get lost in the system would have been nothing to them.
He’s proud of her ability to successfully keep her and their babies alive in his absence, but he’s over her needlessly defiant nature to insist that they’ll never need him again.
He wouldn’t say he’s proud to see that defeated look in her eyes, but he does get the sense of relief knowing that he’s not going to lose anymore family today.
“Let me see them,” she whispers, barely audible over the rainfall just outside the window. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and he’s practically giddy that she didn’t try to stop him.
He finds them just where he left them, sleeping soundly knowing that their father is here to protect them, even from their mothers stubbornness. Ale is spread out like a starfish, one foot continually nudging his sister, while one hand is tightly balled up and a thumb in his mouth. Mimi on the other hand is squirming a bit, her little sock covered feet restlessly kicking at the blanket and her brow furrowed in her sleep. On pure instinct alone Elvis rubs a soothing hand on her belly until she’s calmed down enough and he quickly tucks her back in.
The look of surprise on her face wasn’t part of the plan but is welcome nonetheless. “Y’see how important a daddy is sweetheart?” he whispers into her ear.
He doesn’t exactly love the tears now freely falling out of her eyes, but he
“I’ll stay,” she whispers, through her tears. “I’m staying for them.” She asserts but the words feel so hollow now. Even still he rewards her acquiescence with a kiss, more for himself and having been so patient for her.
Even with her promises to stay now he knows that this is far from over. He knows that the next time she has them both in her arms is gonna be the next time she makes a break for it. He’s already let everybody know to never leave her alone with them, and he’s got some things in the works to make sure to make her face as recognizable as his own so she doesn’t get any ideas of trying to disappear. He’s even got a hail mary plan in his back pocket to deal with that doctor just in case he ever needs something big to keep her at his side.
But one thing he can absolutely do right now is work to get another baby in her so running won’t be so easy next time. A message she gets loud and clear the moment he works the zipper of her skirt down the mouth-watering curve of her ass.
“Elvis please,” she half-heartedly bats away his hands. “Not tonight…”
He’s been on a winning streak of getting exactly what he wants lately, and he’s not about to let her break that. He backs her against the wall of the hallway only to then nestle himself between her legs.
“C’mon baby,” he whispers in her ear, and he’s glad he can still get that same shuddering reaction from her, he remembers all too well. “It’s our weddin’ night and we gotta get to work makin’ it all official. ‘Sides you owe me more babies for keepin’ ‘em away so long.”
He can’t help but be reminded of that beach fantasy he had not too long ago and while he would love to make that into a reality, he figures that he at the very least owes her more than a dirty quickie in the hallway for their wedding night.
Besides, they'll have all the time for that in Hawaii.
So instead he opts for the classic groom move of lifting her up in his arms and carrying her into his -now their- bedroom. He doesn’t care none to be gentle with her clothes, she’ll be lucky if he cares to be gentle with her tonight after all the shit she’s put him through.
Ever the contrarian, she obstinately looks out the window and looks as though she wishes to be anywhere else right now as he peels the wet clothes off of her body. He’s been half-hard since she walked through his door, but little Elvis stands at full attention now that he can behold his wife fully. He finds the cosmetic differences that having his children has caused her body, with the near invisible stripes he feels on her belly and her temptingly darker nipples, but what he sees first and foremost in her body is his future.
That world-shattering knowledge that she will be where all of his seed is planted and he will never have to suffer being alone again. He has to push these thoughts aside lest he spill all over her belly like a green boy, and he has to remind himself that there’s no need to rush anymore now that he has her beneath him.
He has to temper himself before he gets ahead of himself so he spreads her legs to dive head first for her pussy.
He knows he has her when a simple kiss to her clit has her clenching her thighs over his ears. While it’s with reluctant acceptance does he acknowledge he wasn’t her first, he takes great pleasure knowing that he’ll be her last. It was frankly insane to believe that no one had ever done this to her before, as after he had gotten his first taste of her there was little else he wanted to do more than this.
He remembers joking with her that he now understood where her womanly sweetness went given the lack of it in her personality. It’s true nonetheless, arguably she tastes even better than he remembers. Though he imagines it’s the same way a man dying of thirst calling his first sip of water the sweetest taste, considering how much he’s pined for her.
Now that he’s been able to ensure she’s sufficiently wet enough he lets her hips fall back on to the bed, as he unbuckles himself, unwilling to waste another moment to undress himself, so that he can once more feel that connection he almost lost.
Finally being able to slip into her feels like finally coming home, there’s truly no other way to describe it. He didn’t even get this feeling when he walked through the threshold of Graceland.
“Elvis,” she sobs into his shoulder. For all the love she claims to have lost for him, her body has certainly not forgotten as he feels her thighs clench tightly around his hips, trying to keep him as close as possible.
He quickly grabs a hold of the back of her knees and he forces them all the way back practically to her ribs. Her pleasured and shocked cries ring out though the room as her new position gives him a new angle to work with. He’s a man on a mission to ensure that he leaves a mark so deep that she’ll never be able to leave again.
Forever, and just that thought alone has him frantically bucking into her over and over ripping her away from one orgasm to yet another as he chases his peak. One of the many he would have in that night alone, to try to make up for all the lost time.
Once it’s all said and done and he’s sufficiently satisfied that her sleepiness isn’t being feigned, he carries her back to the bed properly so that she can rest and be ready to be the perfect mother for their two (hopefully more) little ones tomorrow. He wraps an arm around her, knowing how slippery she can be, and he rests easy knowing she’ll be there come morning.
Taglist
@venus-haze @djsjs13949 @ilovehobi101 @butlerslut @richardslady121 @giabelia @sydneyyyya @meetme0614 @tacozebra051 @myradiaz @thelifes-world @maythesunshineagain @rakitirakiti @lostteenagetale
@j-v-9-2 @eliseinmemphis @dkayfixates @immi547 @thatbanditqueen @marriedtoeddie @cuteejeno @itlover8000 @isthlsfate @mgparker @thatbanditqueen @softsatnin @literally-just-elvis-fics @adaydreamaway08 @airyx0x0 @domoron @artlover8992 @divxnee
#elvis#elvis 2022#elvis x reader#yandere!elvis x reader#austin!elvis#austin butler#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere!elvis#yandere elvis#elvis presley#elvis presley x reader#elvis x oc#latin!reader#latina!oc#latina!reader#yandere!austin!elvis#yandere pov
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Best parts of Nope 2022:
1) Emerald reciting her father’s speech about their history so much that she always forgets to add a generation to account for her being a generation younger, and OJ always reminding her of it. We don’t figure this out until we see her watching a video of her dad saying the exact line.
2) How the small things always come full circle. It was a coin that killed Otis Senior and it was a coin that helped Emerald capture the only evidence of Jean Jacket. It was a balloon that set off Gordy into a massacre and it was a balloon popping that ended Jean Jacket’s massacre. How the Haywood family’s legacy is based in the first captured film, and it’s Emerald’s picture of Jean Jacket that calls back to and expands on that legacy.
3) How unashamedly campy it was to name the horse we saw die first Ghost and the horse that made it ‘till the end Lucky. (RIP to Clover and the other ones sold off to Jupe). Gordy. Gore-dy. Naming Jean Jacket after the one horse Emerald never got to tame.
4) How the movie starts with Gordy’s rampage and makes you think it’s just part of the Monkeypaw Productions intro and that Gordy is just staring at the audience for the shock value, but mid-movie gets recontextualized into a traumatic flashback of Gordy staring at Jupe under the table.
5) How we will never know why exactly Gordy spared Jupe. Did he calm down enough to recognize Jupe as one of his “family”, or even recognize that they were used and exploited in almost identical ways by the production crew and cast? If one of the other actors swapped places with Jupe, would it have been the same? Was the tablecloth just enough of an obstruction to Jupe’s eyes that Gordy didn’t kill him, and would have if the cloth wasn’t there? Did Gordy even actually reach to touch Jupe’s hand, or did Jupe add that detail on and unknowingly add that to his recollection of the event, and thus his belief that he could reach out and understand Jean Jacket the same way?
6) The way OJ was the one to realize Jean Jacket’s “rules” so to speak, being the character who seems the most coded to be neurodivergent; not looking others in the eye unless absolutely necessary, speaking bluntly and as short of terms as possible, using the way he interacts with horses when speaking to others (the “woah there” to the director at the green screen scene and slapping his hand to his leg to get Angel and Emerald to run faster to the car), unable to carry through with small talk in one scene (the movie scene with the white woman asking Lucky’s name) yet staying on topic and proposing a deal in another (trying to make a deal with Jupe while Emerald looks around), who understands what boundaries the animals he works with have and respects them.
7) How it goes unexplained why Emerald and OJ let Angel stick around because there doesn’t need to be an explanation. They just accept him in their group after a while, and they help each other without question. They allow each other into their respective homes for safety, and he refuses to let Antlers use the remaining horses as bait (”They’re horse people”).
8) The scene where OJ and Lucky run from Jean Jacket as the music swells almost like a rehearsed show between the three of them as Jean Jacket returns to the sky and OJ and Lucky split. That in contrast to Jean Jacket returning and OJ and Lucky barely make it out alive, which we don’t find out if they survive until the very last shots of the movie.
9) I Wear My Sunglasses At Night (Jean Jacket Mix). How music played electronically is used as a detection of Jean Jacket’s presence like some fucked up game of musical chairs.
10) How Emerald's father could never look her in the eye after selling off the original Jean Jacket for money, and how he dies by a nickel through the eye, how it’s money that kills him. How staring at something in the eye when you’re not supposed to is intertwined with not looking and paying attention to something you should have, both in the sense of not losing track of your family as priority and in the sense of not losing track of a wild, lethally dangerous animal.
#nope#nope 2022#nope spoilers#jordan peele#GOD this movie changed something in me I swear#it's fucking wonderful
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My Favorite Actor Is…
Fem!Reader
Summary: Infatuation over a film star. It’s a very common thing to have happen. There’s not much to be done over it besides talking about said infatuation over that actor. And if there is jealousy to be had at least handle it as healthy as possible.
Words: 975
AN: I wrote almost all of this on my phone as I was dealing with the holidays when it was written. Just when I thought I would have time to myself to edit the fic and make sure things made sense, I got a new puppy. So it was either edit the fic and be unsure if things made sense or get help. Thanks @milkstore. You are the best. Puppies are tiring but very cute.
“Ayaka had me and Thoma go with her to see a film earlier today,” Y/N explained as she poured herself and Ayato a cup of tea. The two of them were still warming up after coming back to the estate from Inazuma City. The winter air had been so chilly with flurries landing on them but not sticking to the ground.
“Did the three of you enjoy yourselves?” He took a towel trying to dry off his hair. Even though it was flurries, being out there long enough meant that two of them were a little soaked. They had hurried in quickly changing into something dry leaving just hair affected by the snow.
“Yes. It was quite exciting. But I did have one gripe with it.” Ayato could hear the disappointment in her voice changing so fast from the happy one she had started the conversation with.
“What would that be?” He left the towel wrapped around his shoulders to avoid his hair dripping. Ayato grabbed the teacup and took a sip embracing the warmth it brought him.
“There was a new actor in the film. He had the most gorgeous eyes but only had a few lines of dialog.” Y/N rolled her eyes before she frowned. “It was an absolute waste of perfect talent. And to make matters worse, that's the only film he's in.”
Ayato remained silent before letting out a single word in judgment, “Oh.” Now he wasn't one to let jealousy affect him. That was a silly emotion filled with insecurities that he didn't have. But to say he wasn't the slightest bit affected by her words was a lie. One that he would tell because who was he to dump feelings he should process on his own onto his lover.
Any understanding of his emotions was ignored. “Ayaka had told me he even turned down a role that would have given him more screen time. It’s such a crime really. What I would give to see him on screen for those two hours rather than just two minutes.” He could practically see the hearts in her eyes.
Ayato didn’t think there would come a day where he’d be annoyed even if it was just slightly by the look she had in her eyes. There wasn’t anything to feel threatened by though. If she had to stand by his side while someone tried to openly flirt with him while he and Y/N were holding hands, he could at the least let her fantasize about someone she would never meet.
“Maybe you’ll get lucky and he will get cast in another movie.” He did his best to remain engaged in the conversation. When he looked down at his cup filled with the most gorgeous green tea he hated the reflection that looked back.
“I wish. Sadly he’s too busy with other projects to even think about acting.” Ayato enjoyed the small victory he had gained even though Y/N was upset at the fact she was telling him. Who knew her love of the arts would betray him?
“Well just be glad that he was able to appear in this film.” He comforted her. Maybe the lack of rest was getting to him if such a disgusting emotion as jealousy was trying to make an appearance.
“I am. I do wish I could at least meet the actor and tell him how well his performance was. Thoma said you’d be able to make that happen.” Y/N had placed an empty teacup on the table. He hadn’t even noticed that she was drinking it this entire time.
All Ayato knew was Thoma who he thought was filled with so much loyalty had betrayed him unknowingly earlier. Now he had to compete for his wife’s attention with some mystery actor that he would do his best to never let her meet. “If they are busy it might be easier to get an autograph.” He hoped that Ayaka would be okay with him using her as a way to talk through these emotions later.
“Really? But even Ayaka agreed that he would find the time to talk.” Y/N spoke with a frown that hid the smirk she really had. Not that Ayato could notice at the moment.
How do you ground your adult younger sister and man who grew up almost like a second sibling to him? “That’s not guaranteed dear. It’s a bit of wishful thinking. Ayaka and Thoma don’t even know the man. Who even is this actor anyway?” His composure was finally beginning to break. He wasn’t proud of it.
Y/N laughed. “I didn’t even tell you the movie we saw. I’m sorry. The movie was The Two Musketeers.” It wasn’t often that Ayato felt embarrassed. “The actor was a man named Kamisato Ayato. You sure I won’t be able to meet him?”
It was at moments like this that he was reminded why he and Y/N had wed. It was also moments like this that reminded him one of the reasons they wed was that they both enjoyed a bit of mischief and teasing each other now and then. It was something that lately he had been catching her off guard with. And here he was getting a taste of his own medicine at the moment.
“Y/N.”
“Yes.” She answered with a laugh.
“I would prefer if you would try to not make me jealous of myself.” Ayato requested with a sigh.
“You know I was wondering when you would catch on.”
“It’s been a long day. A long week.” He explained. She could see the tiredness on his face.
“Why don’t we get my favorite actor to bed then instead of trying to hold a conversation about the day?”
“That would be smart.”
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