#and miles is just so !!!! my dad is awesome!!!!

[vonlipvig]

feeling a bit soft rn, so have some bedtime stories with the edgeworths ♡ (don't worry, just procedure, none of the scary bits for now!)

[keeps-ache]

been telling my siblings 'you would NOT make it in vulcan academy' when they do smth goofy recently and nobody's been able to refute lol

[nomaishuttle]

like pirating is so normal 2 me i forget there r ppl who r like antipiracy which btw is stupid. obviously

[mariasont]

We need more nanny!reader

CAREER DAY - A.H

a/n: ask and you shall receive my lover

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

warnings: reader spreading misinformation about the FBI

wc: 1.8k

The day started as most did in the Hotchner household--Jack buzzing around like a caffeinated squirrel while his father tried to maintain some semblance of order. Career day had been the talk of the week, and Jack was practically glowing with excitement at the prospect of showing off his dad, the ultimate crime-fighting FBI agent. You, of course, had spent the previous night poking fun at Aaron, delighting in his quiet irritation as he wrestled with the idea of simplifying behavioral analysis for a classroom full of first graders.

"Just being ready for the classics," you'd smirked, perched against the kitchen counter as you cradled your steaming mug of coffee. "Like 'How do you catch bad guys?' and 'Do you carry a gun?' Oh, and don't forget: 'Are you married to the nanny?'"

Aaron lowered his own mug just enough to fix you with a pointed glare, the kind that might have worked on anyone else. On you, it only sparked a giggle.

"They're six," he replied, his tone as dry as the piece of toast sitting abandoned on his plate. "I think they're more interested in whether I drive a cool car or eat donuts every day."

"Which, for the record, are equally important questions," you teased, blowing him an exaggerated kiss as you passed him in the kitchen, savoring the faint twitch or irritation at the corner of his mouth.

By the time the next morning arrived, Jack was practically vibrating at the breakfast table, his spoon clinking noisily against his cereal bowl as he talked a mile a minute. Aaron, on the other hand, appeared at the kitchen door in his usual composed fashion--sharp suit, perfectly knotted tie. He looked ready to impress, though the faint lines of dread on his face suggested he was less enthused about fielding questions from six-year-olds than Jack was about showing him off.

"This is gonna be awesome, Dad!" Jack squealed, his grin stretching so wide it nearly swallowed his face. "My friends are gonna think you're a superhero!"

You leaned in, unable to help yourself. "He is a superhero, Jack," you chimed in, hands clasped dramatically as you fluttered your eyelashes at Aaron. "A stoic, brooding one who scowls just enough to keep everyone terrified--except me, of course."

Aaron shot you a pointed look, one brow arching in that signature way that warned you to tread carefully. Yet, despite his best efforts, the faintest hint of amusement softened the hard line of his mouth. "I'm glad someone isn't scared of me."

"Oh, please, Mr. Hotchner. I'm immune to your death glare at this point. Occupational hazard."

"Lucky me," he muttered.

Aaron was moments away from grabbing his briefcase, ready to head out the door and dazzle a room full of first-graders, when his phone ran sharply, the shrill tone throwing a wrench in the morning's momentum.

The sound froze all of you. Jack, mid-spoonful of cereal, lowered it slowly, his wide-eyed excitement dimming as he watched his dad's face.

His eyes flicked to the caller ID, and that familiar shift in his expression--a sudden tightening of his jaw and faint narrowing of his eyes--was all the confirmation you needed. The duty call. With a clipped Hotchner he answered, the dark cloud settling over him left no doubt that plans were about to change.

Jack's shoulders sagged as he slumped back into his chair, his small voice laced with disappointment. "But, Dad..."

Aaron crouched beside him, his hand gently ruffling Jack's hair, the way he always did when he wanted to reassure him. His smile was tight, clearly weighed down by guilt. "I'm sorry, buddy. I promise I'll make it up to you, okay?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Hotchner. I've got this."

Aaron blinked, the phone momentarily dropping from his ear. "What do you mean you've got this--?"

You cut him off with a clap of your hands, spinning toward Jack with uncontainable enthusiasm. "Jack! Looks like I'll be tagging in for your dad today! Isn't that great?"

Jack's initial disappointment lingered for a moment, but soon enough, his face brightened. "Really?"

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice dropping to that deadly quiet tone of his. "You? At Career Day?"

"Yes, me," you replied, undeterred by his disapproval. "I'll keep the kids entertained while you go to your FBI thing. Everybody wins."

The moment you strode into the classroom later that day, heels clicking relentlessly against the linoleum and a blazer cinched in a effort to make it seem like you meant business, you knew you had their attention. A dozen little, curious faces stared who stared at you like you were a novelty.

"Good morning, class! I'm Agent Hotchner's... right-hand woman," you announced, voice dripping with drama as you threw up a pair of jazz hands.

A few kids murmured in confusion. One whispered loudly, "I thought FBI agents were scary."

"Oh, we are terrifying," you agreed, giving them a wide-eyed look. "In fact, just last week at Quantico, it was like CSI meets Grey's Anatomy, with a touch of America's Next Top Model.”

"What's Quantico?" a little girl piped up. 

"Quantico is where all the best FBI agents train. It's basically where we learn how to outsmart bad guys, fight crime, and yes, look fabulous while doing it." You pointed to your heels. "You think these are just for show? No, no. Crime-fighting boots."

The kids erupted into laughter.

"What do FBI agents do?" another kid asked, squinting at you skeptically.

You crossed your arms. "We chase down the bad guys, save the day, and sometimes--sometimes--we read minds." You tapped your temple with a knowing look. "Of course, we call it profiling."

The classroom collectively gasped.

"Can you read my mind?" one boy shouted.

You paused, squinting like you were deep in thought, and then smirked. "You're thinking... about lunch."

You were mid-explanation about "how to outwit a serial killer"--which mostly involved wildly gesturing to the chalkboard like you were mapping out a very elaborate game of tic-tac-toe--when they door creaked open.

There he was.

Aaron Hotchner.

In his sharp, dark suit, just like this morning but now with his FBI badge clipped neatly at his belt and his very unimpressed glare fixed on you.

Your words faltered immediately, one arm frozen mid-air in a dramatic motion that looked less like "strategy mapping" and more like you were trying to cast a spell.

"And that's how... we... uh... track down clues," you finished weakly, your voice trailing off as Hotch stepped further into the room.

His presence somehow managed to suck the air out of the classroom.

The entire first-grade audience collectively turned toward the door like they'd just spotted Batman (which you could see the resemblance), their wide eyes brimming with awe. Even you had to admit he looked good---too good for someone who was actively glaring daggers at you.

Jack shot up out of his chair with the biggest grin, his little hands smacking his desk. "Dad!"

Hotch's expression softened for half a second--just enough to shoot Jack a small, reassuring smile--before his gaze snapped back to you with the precision of a sniper. His eyebrow lifted, his stare practically screaming "What did you do?"

"Mr. Hotchner!" you chirped brightly, clasping your hands together like he hadn't just caught you in the middle of a deeply embellished FBI crash course. "Thank goodness you're here."

He face didn't change. "What exactly is going on here?"

The entire room turned back to you, now hanging on your every word like you were about to solve the mystery of the century. You smoothed down your blazer and cleared your throat, aiming for casual confidence but landing somewhere closer to oops-I've-been-caught.

"The kids were just learning about... well, you know, FBI things."

"FBI things," he repeated slowly, the deep baritone of his voice making every six-year-old sit up a little straighter.

You nodded quickly.

"Yes. Important stuff. Like, um..." You pointed vaguely at the chalkboard behind you, where a stick figure drawing labeled 'Unsub' faced off against a giant magnifying glass. "Like clue analysis. And deductive reasoning. And... and boot fashion! Very critical to the modern agent."

Hotch's eyebrow climbed higher. "Boot fashion."

The classroom, however, didn't notice his skepticism. They were riveted.

"You know, Mr. Hotchner," you continued, your voice sweetening as you took a step toward him, heels clicking against the linoleum, "I do have to say--you're making quite an entrance. Very dramatic. Almost like the hero showing up in Act Two."

"Am I?" he deadpanned.

"Absolutely." You turned back to the kids, one hand gesturing grandly in his direction. "Class, this is Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, leader of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. He's here to save the day."

There were collective gasps of excitement. One little boy actually clapped.

Hotch sighed softly, his shoulders loosening a little as he gave Jack another small, proud smile. But when his gaze flickered back to you, his look still carried the weight of "We are going to talk about this later."

"Did she tell you about the profiling?" he asked the class, crossing his arms as he surveyed the room with his usual intensity.

"Yeah!" a little girl said eagerly, practically bouncing in her seat. "She said you can read minds!"

You coughed quickly, waving your hand in dismissal. "Well, not exactly 'read minds.' More like... interpret behavioral patterns."

Hotch blinked at you. "That's not what you said, is it?"

"I paraphrased."

"She also said FBI agents are like Sherlock Holmes but hotter!" a boy chimed in.

Hotch turned his unimpressed gaze back to you. "Sherlock Holmes but hotter?"

"Creative liberties," you replied, flashing him a wide grin. "You should be flattered. I was hyping you up.”

His face faltered for the briefest second when the kids started firing questions at him.

"Do you carry a gun?"

"Have you ever arrested anyone?"

"Did you really save people like she said?"

Once the kids had been dismissed for recess, the sound of excited chatter and sneakers squeaking on the floors faded down the hall, leaving the classroom blessedly quiet. You let out a long, triumphant breath and started gathering the markers you had used for your very official FBI diagrams, still pleased with yourself.

It didn't last long.

You heard the door click softly shut, and when you turned, Aaron Hotchner was standing in front of it--arms crossed over his chest, jaw set, and eyes narrowing like he was about to interrogate you for tampering with evidence.

Uh-oh.

You forced a smile, one hand coming up to smooth your blazer. "Mr. Hotchner! Shouldn't you be out there basking in your hero moment? You were a hit with the kids."

He didn't blink. "You're lucky you didn't say something classified."

"Oh, come on," you replied, waving him off as you leaned casually against the teacher's desk. "I didn't spill any real secrets. I don't even know any. Just said enough to make you look cool. You should be thanking me."

"I should be thanking you?"

"Yeah, I didn't even mention your soft spot for me."

"That's not funny," he said, though the ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't be such a grouch," you replied with a wink. "The kids loved me. I mean, did you see their faces? Jack said I was better than all the other parents combined."

"Jack is biased," Hotch shot back, though his tone lacked its usual sternness.

"Well, what can I say?" You shrugged. "Oh, and for the record? I think I nailed it."

"Debatable," Hotch called after you, but there was no mistaking the faint chuckle under his breath.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching the small, fond smile he tried to hide. Oh, you definitely nailed it.

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[rebelliousstories]

Again and Again

Relationship: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Brief Mentions of Death, Age Gap

Word Count: 1,425

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Summary: Age is just a number with them. And now Aaron is frustrated about putting her as their emergency contact.

“Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind it, it doesn’t matter.” Mark Twain

Aaron sat alone in his office as he did many nights. For once he seemed to have finally filled out all of the forms that usually kept him from getting out at a reasonable hour, but there was a single form that held him up. His emergency contact form. Ever since Hailey, that form had remained empty seeing as the people he would want to contact in an emergency are usually right next to him.

His life had been flipped upside down for the last year. The one secret he had kept from everyone on his team, including Dave. His girlfriend, a young, hard-working lawyer from Virginia that was twenty years his junior. He was not able to bring himself to put his pen to the page though. Even though she had practically moved in to his apartment already, Aaron had a difficult time to tell anyone about her.

Jack loved her, and loved when she was around almost as much as Hotch did. The age gap between them was severe, but she was unlike any other woman her age he had met. She was wise beyond her years, and was one of the youngest practicing attorneys in the history of the state. It was a complete accident that they had even met and began talking.

Hotch sighed as he closed the file and placed it in a secure spot on his desk to take care of tomorrow. Packing up his briefcase, he gathered his effects and began to make his way home. Once he left the building, Aaron decided to phone his girlfriend while starting up his car.

“Hey darling. I’m on my way home. Holding down the fort?” He asked, letting a smile grace his face as he heard Jack in the background.

“Of course, honey. We’re just finishing up dinner prep while Jack is doing his homework. Here you go. He won’t stop asking for you,” a commotion came. There was some shuffling before he heard a new voice. He kept making turns and completing his drive home.

“Daddy!” Jack yelled excitedly from the other end of the line. Aaron chuckled as he heard his son.

“Hey buddy. You behaving for her right?” He asked, and made sure to keep his eyes on the road.

“Yeah. She’s helping me do my multiplication tables.” His son answered.

“That’s awesome, bud. I’m going to be home in about twenty minutes, okay? Can you pass me back?” Jack made sure to tell his dad that he loved hm before doing what he requested and passed the phone back to his dad’s girlfriend.

“Did you hear what I told Jack, darling?”

“I did. We’ll see you when you get here. We’re having spaghetti tonight so you may want to change as soon as you get home.” She teased to which Aaron let out a laugh.

“Did you get that recipe from Dave?” He asked, turning down a road that would take him straight home.

“What can I say? I love and trust that man’s cooking when you bring home leftovers, with a recipe sheet so you can make it again. Drive safe, dear. We’ll be here when our get home.” Aaron exchanged his own goodbyes with her. He was only five minutes from home now, and he may or may not have sped those last few miles just to get home faster.

The man flung himself out of the car as soon as he arrived at his apartment complex. Taking the stairs two at a time, Aaron joyously placed his key in the slot and stepped inside. Disarming the alarm, he set down his briefcase and unclipped his firearm on his hip before he was being attacked by a set of small arms from behind.

“Daddy’s home!” Jack exclaimed, hugging his father close. He chuckled as he turned in his son’s arms and picked him up for his own hug.

“Hey buddy.” Aaron greeted looking to where a chuckle was coming from. His girlfriend was wiping her hands on a towel while leaning against the threshold of the kitchen. She was wearing his apron, which was just making Aaron love coming home to her more. With his son on his hip, Hotch made his way to wrap her up in his arms and give her a welcoming kiss.

“Ew.” Jack groaned, trying to push himself away from the display of affection. The two adults began to break apart as they laughed at his innocence that only a child could muster.

“Did you finish your multiplication tables, sir?” She teased, tickling his stomach lightly. The boy giggled but nodded his head in conformation. “Well go get it so we can go over it.”

He took off with the speed of a star and left his dad and his girlfriend alone. Aaron turned fully to face his lover that was just a step away from the door. With a smile on his face, he drew her in closer and captured her lips in a much deeper kiss than before. Her arms came to rest on his broad shoulders as she relaxed with his hands around her waist. They pulled away for some much needed oxygen with grins on both of their faces.

“Welcome home, darling.” She whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Mmm, it definitely is very welcoming.” Aaron teased, bringing her in closer as she chuckled. Her head rested on his shoulder and they swayed slightly without a sound in the air.

“My emergency contact form came across my desk again.” He finally whispered after a few minutes. She pulled away just a little so that she could see his face.

“Oh?” It was all she could say. That emergency form had been a sore spot for him throughout the years. After Hailey, Aaron did not even put his girlfriend’s name down in his personal address book as he never wanted someone to use her against him again.

“Do you want to put someone down?” She asked, scratching her nails gently through the cropped hair at the base of his head.

“I want to you to be my contact. I’m just…” a sigh broke up his words.

“You’re afraid of me being a target?” Aaron nodded with his eyes downcast. Placing her hand on his cheek, she brought him back up to face her.

“It’ll be alright. You can put me down. Besides, I’m a high-profile lawyer. I’m already a target.” A chuckle tore itself from their throats at the joke, but it was quickly brought down by the weight of the subject.

“What’s the other reason, Aaron?” Another question that the man was reluctant to answer.

“I’m not sure what my team will think about our relationship.” He admitted.

“Because I’m young enough to be your daughter?” She blurted out, causing Aaron to look up in alarm.

“Never phrase it like that again please.” Hotch let out a sharp breath. However, she just laughed at his unease.

“Sorry, too good to pass up. But whenever you want to tell them, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Plus, Dave’s been married and divorced three times. I don’t think anyone is going to have room to talk.” Teasing once more, the couple was broken apart by the little boy in the house running for their feet.

“I did my tables.” Jack declared proudly. They each went off to do their own thing; Aaron and Jack were reviewing the math practice sheet, and she went off to finish up dinner. Dinner was a lovely affair, and the little family ate happily. The cloud of darkness was lifted from earlier, and all that was left was joy and laughter.

The next morning, Aaron unloaded his briefcase as soon as he stepped into his office and a note slipped out. Picking it up off the floor, and returning to his desk, he could only smile as he read it. On the note was his girlfriend’s full name, phone number, address, and any relevant information he needed. Plus, a non informational tidbit on the bottom.

Here you go. I expect to have one of Dave’s recipes straight from the man himself when you tell them. Have a great day, dear. Love you.

Aaron smiled to himself, got out his pen, and began to fill out his emergency contact file.

“Trust is the glue of life. It’s the most essential ingredient in effective communication. It’s the foundational principle that holds all relationships.” Stephen R. Covey

[fluentmoviequoter]

Surety of Ghos-ti

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x pregnant!fem!reader

Summary: You are held hostage, and Luca and his team have to save you and your baby.

Warnings: angst, violence, threats of homicide, comfort/fluff

Word Count: 2.8k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Hondo!” Luca calls as he enters SWAT HQ.

Hondo stands immediately, his eyes wide as he asks, “She’s in labor?”

“No, man, and she won’t be for a while,” Luca replies with a smile. “I thought I was supposed to be the nervous, jumpy one.”

“Give it a few more weeks,” Deacon interjects. “It gets easier after the first one, though.”

“We ain’t all like you, Deac,” Hondo teases. “What do ya need, Luca?”

“50 Squad’s serving a felony warrant with the Marshals in Santa Clarita, so Hicks wants us to be ready to pick up the slack.”

“They better not go to Magic Mountain without me,” Street grumbles from the other side of the room.

“Priorities, Street,” Deacon reminds him.

“Yeah, they’re sorted.”

“I have to be at the party supply store before they close at 9,” Chris says. “As long as our shift ends when it’s supposed to, I can let Rocker slide this one time.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Luca responds.

Chris turns to stare at Luca, and after a moment, he concedes and raises his hands. The team decided to throw you a baby shower, besides the one you had for friends and family, because you are part of 20 Squad, and you’ve gained another family. Luca expected Annie to be the one who took the reins of the shower. He has seen how well you and Chris get along, so he shouldn’t be surprised by her insistence on making the party perfect.

“When does she learn the gender?” Street asks. “If it’s a boy, Streeter has a nice ring to it.”

“They’re not going to set the kid up for failure before birth, my man,” Hondo calls.

“Her appointment was supposed to be today, but the doctor had to reschedule,” Luca answers. “She’s not sure she wants to know, though.”

“Chris works for a niece or nephew,” Chris points out.

Luca laughs, then remembers that Hicks asked him to review a new strategy with Hondo and, despite his preference to continue discussing you, he focuses on work.

Los Angeles has every kind of store you could ever need, but when a new handmade baby goods store opens a few miles from your place, you know you must visit. Luca is at work, you’ve done everything Chris allowed you to for the upcoming baby shower, and even though you’re 20 weeks pregnant, you’re restless. So, you gather your phone, wallet, and keys, then lock your front door and begin the short drive to the store.

The pastel blue façade welcomes you after you park, and you run your hand under your growing bump as you enter the store. A handwritten “Cash Only; Sorry!” sign is displayed on the counter, and you mentally thank yourself for asking Luca to take you to the bank over the weekend. He’s the best part of your life, the love of your life, and his insistence to help you prepare before giving birth has been a godsend.

“Hi!” a smiling employee calls. “Welcome in, let me know if you need anything!”

“Hello,” you reply. “Thank you. I’m just looking for now.”

“Awesome! There’s so much cute stuff in here, take your time.”

You smile, then trail your eyes around the store. It’s larger than it looked from the outside, and you decide to start in the back corner and work toward the front of the store. There’s a small cart return area at the front of the store, likely from the building’s past resident, now blocked off with a sign that says, “We got you, mamas. If you’re shopping alone and need assistance, let an employee know and we’ll keep your stuff behind the counter so you can relax and focus on finding the perfect items.”

As you reach the back of the store, there’s a corner filled with onesies and toes relating to parents’ jobs. A pair of pajamas catches your eye, embroidered with a police van that reminds you of Black Betty and “Relax, my dad is a police officer.” You lay it over your arm, then laugh at the one behind it. With both secured, you continue walking around the store. The employee from earlier checks in with you as you walk past and graciously offers to take the items from your arms and hold them behind the counter for you.

“Thank you,” you call as she uses a dry-erase marker to write your name on a plastic bin beneath the register.

“Of course!” she replies.

She waves to another employee, returning from somewhere, and you continue shopping. You look at some BPA-free bottles and specialty pacifiers rather than looking up when the bell over the door rings.

“Welcome in.”

You hear the strain in the cashier’s voice and shift your attention quickly, reaching for your phone when you see a man dressed in all black blocking the doorway. He puts his gloved hand against his hip as one of the women places her hand against the edge of the counter, her fingers underneath the lip. You assume she presses a panic button and stay behind a shelf as you click your screen to find Luca’s contact.

“Empty the register,” the man demands.

“Okay, okay,” one of the women mutters, opening the register and dumping a few bills and loose coins onto the counter.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“That’s all. We just took most of it to the bank, we only have enough to make change.”

“Open the safe!”

“Don’t have one.”

The man jerks his head to the side quickly, then pulls a black gun from his waistband. You forget about texting Luca and press the button to call him instead. The man pulls his black cap off, running his fingers through his hair. He turns toward you after his arm falls out of his peripheral view, suddenly aware of your presence.

“What are you doing over there?” he yells, aiming the gun at you.

You raise your hands quickly, but not before setting your phone behind a bottle on the shelf and praying Luca answers. “I was just shopping,” you answer as you step away from the shelf.

“Give me your money, too!”

You swallow as you pull your wallet out, then hand over the cash you have. The man holds the gun on you with one hand as he counts the money with the other. He sighs, then backs toward the door. He twists the lock until it clicks and flips the sign on the door to say Closed.

“This isn’t enough,” he says as if he’s having a normal conversation and not threatening lives over less than $500. “What are we going to do about that?”

“What about a bottle warmer?” Street asks, scrolling through a baby registry on his phone.

“Got one,” Luca answers without looking up. “I told her to make her own registry.”

“Towel warmer for Mom?”

“I bought her one,” Hicks interjects. When the team turns toward him, he shrugs and says, “New moms need comfort and new things, too.”

Luca smiles and shakes his head as his phone begins ringing. “Speaking of new moms,” he murmurs before answering the phone. Luca doesn’t hear anything, so he repeats your name several times. Just before he hangs up, he hears muffled speech.

“What’s up?” Tan asks, noticing the concern on Luca’s face.

Luca gestures for him to be quiet, places his phone on speaker, and turns it up.

“I was just shopping,” you say, your voice growing quieter like you’re stepping away from the phone.

“Give me your money, too!” a man yells.

Hondo reaches across Luca’s chest and mutes the microphone to ask, “Where is she?”

Keeping the phone call connected, Luca navigates to your contact and reads your current location so Street can type it into the computer.

“Home Grown Baby, it’s a handmade baby goods store,” Street says. “The silent alarm was activated less than a minute ago.”

“Maybe you should put the gun down,” another woman says. “We can help you.”

Someone screams, and you plead, “Stop, stop.”

Hicks raises his own phone to his ear, whispering hurried commands. “I called off local PD. That’s a hostage situation. Luca, if you need to sit this out-”

“I’m good,” Luca assures the team. “Let’s do this.”

“Luca,” Deacon calls, stopping him on the way to Black Betty. “Your girl, your unborn child… he’s going to try to use them as insurance, a surety that things stay in his control. We need to you think with her if this is going to work.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Luca answers, letting his training override his emotions. At least until he gets to the store.

You hold a hand against your stomach as you sit beside the employees, tucked under the front of the counter as the armed man paces before you. Glancing over, you see that the woman who returned from the bank, Elizabeth, is looking better. He hit her over the head with his gun, but her color is returning, and the blood on her temple is drying.

“Is-" the other woman, Jane, begins. She stops when the man turns toward you. When he turns away again, she whispers, “Are you really with a cop?”

You nod once and squeeze her hand in a silent promise that your cop, your love, your Luca, will get everyone out of this building alive.

“Guns blazing,” Hondo suggests.

“I doubt he’ll like that,” Deacon argues. “He clearly wants to be in control based on the phone call.”

“They haven’t spoken since he made them sit,” Street adds, Luca’s phone pressed to his ear. “Not loud enough to hear at least.”

“We can’t risk spooking him into hurting anyone,” Luca agrees. “Try hostage recovery, talk him down, then go from there?”

“Thirty seconds,” Tan alerts from the driver’s seat. “Lights and sirens?”

“Lights only,” Hondo answers. “Park right outside the door, I want him to see us.”

Hondo takes a deep breath, then stops. He passes the phone to Deacon and nods once. Deacon dials the store number and waits for an answer as he trades places with Street to sit in the front.

“Hello,” he says after a moment. “I’m Sergeant Deacon Kay with LAPD SWAT. Who am I speaking to?”

“How’d you know I was here?” the man demands, in stereo for Street, listening to Luca’s phone and Deacon’s call.

“It’s a busy parking lot, someone got suspicious,” Deacon says carefully. “Is there something we should be worried about?”

“Yeah, there is!”

“What’s going on, sir?”

“I need money! She took everything from me, I can’t even see my kid and now I’m going to lose my apartment.”

Hondo holds up his left hand and taps his empty ring finger. Deacon nods, then takes a dramatic breath.

“I get that,” he replies. “My ex took all three of our kids, told the courts I would neglect them because of my hours as a cop. They- women take and take.”

“I need $1,200 but there’s only $300 here!”

“Listen, you come out, and I’ll help you with a plan to get the other 9.”

“No, no, I walk out there, I lose it all anyway. That isn’t how I’m ending this.”

“The women in that store didn’t do anything wrong, Mr.?”

“Kirkfield,” the man says quietly. “Keith.”

“Alright, Keith, my name’s David. I can help you, but not until I know the other people inside are safe.”

“I got a cousin who’s in jail for assault and battery, he called this part ghos-ti, you know what this is, David?”

“No, I don’t.”

“It’s like the root for our word hostage. I’ve got three ladies in here unwilling to cough up the cash I need.” He raises his voice, likely so you and the employees can hear, and adds, “If they’d listened, I’d be gone already!”

“Keith,” Deacon begins.

“No, I’m thinking you don’t get it either. So, remember next time you call without my money that ghos-ti also sounds a lot like a dead baby.”

Luca’s eyes widen as he grips the non-lethal gun across his chest. Hondo informs them they can’t get the money quickly, and Street shakes his head to communicate that Keith isn’t talking.

Suddenly, Deacon’s phone rings again.

“Change of plans, Sergeant,” Keith says. “Ten minutes, or I start shooting.”

“That won’t-“

The line beeps, and Luca tightens his jaw as Hondo begins brainstorming a plan to get inside.

You hold your hand against your mouth, growing nauseous from the stress of your situation, pregnancy hormones, and hunger. It’s been eight minutes since Keith gave Deacon ten minutes, and you know that the team is working to get inside if they’re not already.

“What are you doing?” Keith asks. “Move your hand.”

“I’m getting sick,” you explain before pressing your lips together.

“She’s pregnant, her blood pressure is probably too high or her sugar’s dropping,” Jane says. “I have snacks in my bag behind the counter, please just let me-“

Keith fires one shot into the wall, and you drop your head to cover your ears, fighting the rolling sensation in your stomach.

“Hold,” Hondo commands after the shot. “Street?”

“He-“ Street looks toward Luca. “He was talking to her, and one of the women asked to get her a snack. No one’s talking.”

“Stay here,” Hondo tells Luca.

“Absolutely not,” Luca argues. “We’re wasting time, Hondo.”

Luca’s chest tightens; he feels like taking a full breath would kill him, and this time, he can’t rely on his training. He heard the shot but no screaming, so he has no idea what they are about to walk into. Maybe Keith shot on accident, or maybe there’s a bloodbath. Regardless, you’re inside, and he will not sit on the sidelines.

They move silently through the back room of the store, pausing against a wooden door separating them from the showroom.

“I’ll give you my credit card, whatever you want, just please stop,” one of the women pleads through tears. Street thinks it’s Elizabeth, and as they review the thermal scan of the room, he tries to find where your phone could be.

“He’s pacing,” Tan says quietly.

“When he turns toward the front again, we’re breaching,” Hondo decides. “Don’t give him a chance to get another shot off, Chris.”

“I won’t give him a chance to pucker,” she mumbles as she moves into position.

Tan watches the image, raising his fingers to countdown from three. Hondo pulls the door open, and Chris shoots Keith’s upper leg before he even turns all the way around. Luca calls your name, rushing toward the counter as his team finishes their job. When he sees you, your arms wrapped protectively around your bump, he drops to his knees and pulls you against his chest.

“He’s cute,” the woman beside you – bloody woman Luca notices after – whispers.

You nod against Luca, carefully moving your arms to hug him. As you thank him repeatedly for coming, Chris and Tan haul Keith to his feet and take him toward an approaching patrol car.

“You hid this well,” Street applauds as he extends his phone toward you. “That microphone is nice, I should get one.”

“Priorities, Street!” Deacon yells from the back of the store.

“Thank you for coming,” you tell Street. “I need to pay for my stuff and then- I actually need to get up first.”

Luca holds your arms carefully, and Street lays a hand on your back as you stand. Once you’re on your feet again, Luca wraps his arm around your waist.

“These are so on the house,” Elizabeth tells you, passing two bags over the counter. “I’m going to the hospital with Jane but thank you for everything.”

“Thank you,” Luca tells her, pulling the bags to his side. “Now, we’re going home.”

You smile and lean tiredly against Luca. As he helps you into the passenger seat of your car, Street runs over and hugs you. Luca shoves him away from the back door before sitting in the driver’s seat and sighing.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he tells you, holding your hand against his thigh. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you reply.

“Isn’t it cute?” you ask, spreading the police van onesie over the table before you.

“Not cute enough to risk you getting shot at,” Luca mumbles against your temple. “But very cute.”

“Then you’ll really like this one.”

You pass the folded cloth to Luca, leaning harder against his side. He unfolds the onesie, reads it, and laughs. The sound feels like home, and as you curl up beside Luca, you know you and your baby will always be safe.

“Proof my mom loves policemen,” Luca says after a few minutes. “That’s funny.”

“And true.”

“Prove it,” he requests, smiling as his lips brush over yours.

[odinsblog]

“How do you enjoy life as the world burns? When the planet is on fire, and the country is falling apart, and the cops shoot another teenager, and half your neighbors are getting evicted or deported, and Bill Maher is still speaking out loud on television, what do you do? I go to the water park with my nephew Miles.

Miles is 12 years old. He is a brilliant, bow-legged troublemaker. I love him despite the fact that he's 12 and still has a rat tail. It's really not that cute anymore, dude. We're not related by blood, but Miles' dad, Kevin, is like a brother to me. So Miles calls me Uncle Josh.

Uncle Josh, when are we going to the Warriors game? Uncle Josh, will you show me how to open that car with a hanger again? Uncle Josh, Uncle Josh, since I'm half Black and half Asian, does that make me Blazian? No, Miles, that makes you Oakland.

It's August, and it's hot, which for the Bay Area, means anything above 67. Today, it's 91. I'm over at Kevin and Miles' place, sitting in no AC, in our tank tops and boxers, watching Key and Peele.

I say, guys, we gotta go somewhere to cool off. Cooler than the movie theater, cooler than the mall, I'm gonna take us to East Bay's water world. Miles' face lights up. But then Kevin says, I don't know you guys. I mean, those water parks, you know, they're so wasteful.

My man Kevin is the worst kind of Bay Area environmentalist. He's that type of dude who will come over your house and use the bathroom, not flush, but instead write a note on your toilet paper telling you how much water he just saved you. That's a true story.

I say, Kevin, it's so hot out here, I could fry an egg on your face, which I will if we don't go to East Bay Water World. Miles says, please dad. I say, please dad.

Kevin says, fine. Go have fun at the park, but take my car. It's a hybrid.

I grab the keys and soon me and Miles are driving through Oakland. We pass by the Trilingual Liquor Store, the farmer's market that accepts food stamps and we make our way through the tunnel and the hills. We emerge on the other side in the valley.

The further we get from the coast, the ground is drier and drier, browner and browner. The only green is the manicured lawns of the suburbs, the golf courses, the empty field of the sprawling county jail. And then we see it and we arrive at our Mecca, our oasis in the California desert, East Bay Water World. And it's even more beautiful than I imagined. There's four wave pools, there's a 50-foot water park, the air smells like chlorine and sunscreen and funnel cake. Delicious.

Miles' mouth is wide, staring at all these things he's never seen before. Carnival games, Dippin Dots, girls in bikinis, Uncle Josh, this place is awesome. I know, Miles. I know.

We go and we jump in the wave pool, we float down the lazy river, we spin through the whitewater rapids until we're totally drenched, grinning ear to ear and surprisingly thirsty. So I go to the funnel cake vendor for something to drink.

Can I get a bottle of water, please? He says, no problem. That'll be $7. $7 for a bottle of water? He looks at the bottle. It says, and he literally read off the bottle, it says this here is bottled and purified up near Lake Tahoe.

This is California water. California water. I buy two bottles and walk back to where Miles is pointing up towards the sky. I follow his gaze and then I see it. There, staring down at us from the tallest point in the park is the biggest water slide I've ever seen. The tallest slide in Northern California, the Annihilator.

The Annihilator is a seven-story, 80-foot freefall drop down all in just under five seconds. It's one of those slides that's so vertical, your back comes off the ride when you go down, so you feel like if you lean over just a little bit, you're done. It's the type of slide that's illegal in 27 states and most of the European Union, but hey, this is California.

I look and see Miles. His mouth is watering in anticipation. We go and get in line.

Now, the worst part of the Annihilator isn't the ride down. That's only five seconds. The worst part is the 30-minute wait in line, standing in the stairs watching and hearing every kid go down the slide, hearing every scream, every shriek, every, oh, sweet baby, Purple Jesus. The That's a direct quote from a nine-year-old. Shout out to Purple Jesus.

Miles is nervous. His hand is clenching the railing. Uncle Josh, is this thing safe?

Before I can answer, I hear a voice shouting from the top of the stairs, Hands up! Put your hands up!

Hands up!

It's the lifeguard, a tall white teenager in red shorts. He's yelling at the girl about to go down the slide. I'm telling you, it's way more fun if you put your hands up.

And the words hit me like a tsunami. It's August, two weeks after Ferguson, after Mike Brown. After those words, hands up became the calling cry for a movement.

In Missouri, people are putting their hands up to protest the police murdering another black boy in America. In California, I'm watching kids put their hands up as they go down a water slide called the Annihilator, and my nephew asks me if it's safe here. It's August in America.

In Detroit, they're shutting off poor people's water. California is suffocating of thirst. Half of my friends are putting buckets of ice over their faces on Facebook. Israel is bombing water treatment plants in Gaza, and in America, we have water parks in the desert. Industrial Almond Farms in the desert, prisons in the desert, my family, me and my nephew right here in the desert looking for anything that could be called an oasis. And Miles asked me if it's safe here.

What am I supposed to tell him?

I don't want to lie to my nephew. I want him to know that yes, some people will always see him as a threat, but I also want him to laugh and play and go get on this crazy ass waterslide.

How do you enjoy life as the world is burning? How do you teach your nephew to hate the park but love the ride? The thing is called the Annihilator. I think it might be trying to tell us something.

And now we're next in line. A girl with blonde pigtails is shaking her head. The lifeguard says, it's okay, you don't have to do it.

She backs away and now Miles is up.

He steps to the edge of the slide, puts his feet in the rushing water.

I can see the brown hills in the distance, Oakland and all its beautiful contradictions waiting on the other side. I wave at Miles, say, you got this. You got this, dude.

And he waves back at me, and when he does, he lets go of the railing. His hand shoots up in the air and the rushing water carries him away. He lets go. He shoots out and disappears over the edge. My nephew!

I rush to the side and look over, and there's Miles at the bottom of the slide, safe and alive and pulling up his bathing suit. He jumps up and runs to get back in line, and the cycle continues. Water, blood, life, death, and maybe rebirth.

I'm still on the top platform of the slide.

I walk to the edge, look down at California, lift my hands, and let go.”

—Mr. Josh Healey

[funnyjb]

It will always be you.

It’s been two months since then. Two months since Joe and I broke up. We have been together since freshman year of college.

I’ve been staying back at my parent’s house that’s only 40 minutes from Cincy. Today was a hard day so far. Joe is playing in his first game since the injury. I haven’t really spoken to him. The whole reason we have been off is because of him. I gave him my all and he pushed me away. I understand it’s been hard on him and a lot of pressure going into the season but he shouldn’t have been acting the way he did. He’s a great, amazing, handsome, talented, sweet, and strong guy, but something changed.

I would be there for him and he would just push me away. I would ask him how his day was and he wouldn’t respond or just say “y/n I’m not in the mood.”

He wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t even look at me. He would cuddle at night but then the next morning just a goodbye and out then door.

I had enough.

Flashback

“Hey,how was your day?”- you

“I’m not in the mood right now, y/n.”- joe

I was pissed

I slammed my hand on the counter.

“I’m done, joe! I’m so sick and tired of this bs.”- you

He turned around.

“What do you mean?”- joe

His eyes were wide

“I mean I’m so done with your bullshit. You don’t even acknowledge me anymore. You push me away. I know I might sound like a crazy girlfriend right now but I’m saying what needs to be said. Every time I open my mouth to say something you nod or say “not right now.” For two straight months that’s all I’ve been getting from you. We’ve been getting into so many arguments recently joe. I don’t know what happened but nothing is working. I’ve been trying so hard to let you do your thing and I’m so proud of you for how far you’ve come but all you seem to do now is push me away. I feel like I’m in the middle of the ocean stuck and stranded while you are on an island miles away.”

“Y/n….”- joe

“Don’t Joe. I think we need a break.”- you

I had tears streaming down my face

Joe walked over to me

He took a deep breath. I could tell he was on the verge of tears.

“I…I…think you’re right, y/n.”- joe

“R…really?”- you

“Yeah…I have always loved you and forever will, but nothing is working out now. I hate to do this, I hate it, I hate it, but you are right.”- joe

He was now crying as well

“Umm….well…. I guess I will stay with my parents.”- you

Joe pulled me in for a hug.

“I will always love you, y/n. I’m so so sorry I’ve been like this. It’s not right. It’s not fair to you.”- joe

I looked at him and put my hands on his face.

I couldn’t even get words out of my mouth I was crying so hard.

“It’s…it’s ok. I understand Joe. We’ve been through a lot I know you. You are strong, kind, caring, brave, and an amazing person. I believe we can work this out. I believe in us, but we need time. I will always love you, Joesph.”- you

I kissed him.

I then grabbed my bag that was already packed. It broke my heart. Joe was sobbing and so was I. He pulled me into one last hug and a kiss.

“I will be here whenever we are ready, I’m here.”- joe

I nodded

I then left.

End of flashback

I sat on the couch. The tv was on with joes game.

“I can turn it off.”- your dad

“No, no, I want to watch.”- you

Just then the camera pointed to Joe running out.

I got emotional.

He’s ok.

I was so proud of him.

He started out on the field and just a couple minutes later a touchdown to tee.

I was so happy.

“Yeah Joe!”- your brother

He only was on for a couple minutes until he came off and was in coach mode.

Damm he looks good.

After an hour the game was over. Bengals sadly lost but Joe did awesome out there and so did the team.

———————————————————————

I was cleaning the dishes till the door bell rang. It was now 9:00.

“I’ll get it!”- you

I walked over to the door and opened it. I couldn’t believe who was there. Joe.

“J…Joe.”- you

“Hi.”- joe

He had his hands in his pockets.

“Can…can we talk?”- joe

“Umm.”- you

I looked behind me to make sure my family wasn’t listening in.

“Yeah, sure.”- you

I closed the door behind me and sat on the couch on the outside porch. Joe sat across from me.

“I..I honestly don’t even know what to say cause there is so many things I could say.”- Joe

“Well, I’m all ears.”- I smiled

“I just want to say I fucked up. I fucked up bad. I should have realized what asshole I was to you sooner. I been going to therapy. It’s been helping a lot with everything. I have been miserable ever since you left. Seriously talk to my mom I cried and got snot all over her shirt while talking to her.”- joe

I chuckled

“Seriously y/n, I’m so so so sorry. I can’t do life without you. You are my rock and the reason I’m here doing what I do. You believed in me. You fought for me through thick and thin. You have given me your trust, love and support throughout all these years and I couldn’t be more grateful for all of it. I need you, y/n. I can’t even be at the house I’ve been living at Sam’s because I couldn’t be in the house we filled with love and laughter without you. I understand if you don’t want be back. I can leave I know what you are going to say.”-joe

He was about to get up when I interrupted him

“No! Don’t go. I don’t think you do know what I’m going to say.”- you smiled

He sat back down.

I took a deep breath.

“You haven’t been an asshole, well…maybe a little.”- you laugh

Joe laughed

“I have never stopped loving you and supporting you. I saw you on tv today. You were incredible. You always are. I’m so proud of you, Joe. I understand that when you are hurt you tend to push people away. I know you have said that before, but I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was trying to be there for you and you pushed me away. And just as you were getting better and going back to practice you didn’t even acknowledge me. I will always be there for you. I just need you to be there for me. I need you to know I am there for you. I need you to stop pushing me away when you need it most.”- you

“I will do anything for you, y/n. I will love you till our bodies grow old and we can even walk.”- joe

I laughed

“Then I accept your offer!”- you

Joe perked up. A big smile spread across his face.

He then walked over to me pulled me in and kissed me. His eyes were teary.

“I’ve missed you so much.”-joe

“I’ve missed you more.”- you

I was now teary

“Not possible.”- joe

He then pulled me in for another kiss

“I love the hair btw, always been into blondes.”- you

“Oh really? Then how did I get so lucky our freshman year?”- joe

“I honestly don’t know.”- you smile

Joe chuckled

I got up and went to the door.

“I will pack right now!”- you

“Ok!”- Joe

I opened the door but then I stopped myself. I turned around and ran up to Joe and gave him a big kiss on the lips.

“It will always be you.”- you

“It has and will forever be you.”- joe smiled

——————————————————————-

The end!

Authors note: I know Joe is a little corny and cringey but he’s just so cute.

P.s. sorry joe was kind of an asshole. lol

[grievedeeply]

Please please please do a gow kratos! daughter x the spiders 'v' i meannn the multiverse IS real... hehehehehehehe

i actually really like this idea.. a crossover between two of my favorite things right now really gets me giggling LOL. these are all sorta short, but i didn't want to repeat myself too much. thanks for the request!

fem!reader | no tws

the spiders with kratos' daughter (god of war crossover)

miles morales

you're the daughter of a god? gods are actually a real thing? like, greek gods?

miles freaks out a little. not because you scare him but because he has SO many questions! he's a curious person and has to resist the urge to ask you about literally everything

he thinks you're so cool, even if you're a bit intimidating at first. he can only assume that's because you're a literal gods child

i can just picture you saying "oh yeah my dad killed this god" and his jaw drops. how you say it so casually is just- he's so confused

BUT he does really like you!

arm wrestling that results in you winning every time is definitely something that frequently happens

gwen stacy

similarly to miles, gwen is really curious. she's curious about how you ended up in her world, mostly. aren't you like.. supposed to be worshipped, or something? shouldn't you be busy?

she isn't afraid to ask her questions though, practically showering you in them the first time you meet. you barely have time to react before she asks her next one

though, you become fast friends

gods being real isn't something that surprises her? she accepts it really quick. after all, the multiverse is a thing, why are gods so far fetched?

she'll listen super intently to whatever you feel like telling her. she thinks you're awesome but she won't say it to your face

hobie brown

your dad killed an oppressive god with an evil regime? awesome

you definitely have some similar opinions, so you get along really well. he wants to hear everything about where you come from, like.. how did you even manage to get to his universe?

he doesn't care about that though, he's got a new friend, and that's the most important part of it all

he's super laidback about you being a god, and he doesn't ask any questions. but he's happy to listen if you feel up to talking about your dad or where you come from

he treats you like he does anyone else. he doesn't want you feeling out of place or unwelcomed <3

pavitr prabhakar

brags about you to everyone

"my friend, the goddess-" type stuff. you explain that you're only half god, but pav does not care. you're just soooo cool in his eyes

you become his best friend immediately. he shows you everything in his universe that he thinks you'll like or reminds him of you

he was shocked to find out the greek gods existed, but he doesn't linger on it for very long because you're standing in front of him and he has QUESTIONS

asks you about your world all the time. he wants you to feel at home in his universe too <3

[baalzebufo]

BIG post sorry I have a lot of doodles to share!! hi! this is my Plutocrat Post(tm)

so ive been enamoured with cosmo kuiper lately and wanted to draw my take on him and the people surrounding him like the investors! couple minor design tweaks to fit stuff into my style and to distinguish the investors more from each other mostly.

but also these guys at the bottom of the post! those are cosmos dads- solaris astrolini and luna cogleone. hes the son of two criminal bosses who decided to build a ton of planetary kids to build their empire. mostly I just thought the idea of a sun and moon cog to be pretty fun, and makes sense why they'd then have a bunch of planets lol...

if i were to include all my headcanons and ramblings this post would be 500 miles long so ill keep it to just the doodles for now... all you need to know is i love plutocrat hes my awesome guy

[missadangel]

Little Bird in a Cage (Javier Peña x Reader)

Part 13: A New Life in Texas (WARNING +18, Smut, bathtub sex)

gifs by ilovejavierpena - tomshiddles

----------- All episodes here --------------

One week later...

It was time to leave, you have felt so many emotions this past week. It was not like just traveling to another country.

At first you were angry with your father again for forcing you to go somewhere without asking you. You visited him to talk, yet nothing has changed.

“You don't want to go with him? Okay, then I'll send you somewhere else.” He teased.

“What? No, of course I want to go with him,” you blushed.  “Dad, stop it, do you really have to send me somewhere to protect me?”

“I don't want you to stay here after everything and, it wears me out to think that you are always in danger, I promised your mother that I would take care of you and protect you no matter the cost, you will be safe with him. Everything you need is in your suitcase, this is my way, bear with me, don’t be angry with me, okay?”

You were actually grateful as you hugged him tight and said goodbye.

Well all in all he was your father. He has done everything for you, even if it was wrong. If this was exile, you would have gladly accepted it, being with Javi was beyond awesome.

The second thing was about what to do there, after all, he hasn't asked you to marry him or anything.

You had to think about it, but maybe later.

Javi talked briefly about his family, but that was it. It wasn't a country you didn't know, you've been in New York before, but as a tourist. Now you were going to live or stay in his homeland with him.

You can’t be sure for future for now since he wants to protect you more than your father does.

You were nervous and excited at the same time. You had many sleepless nights because of this.

The best thing to do was to go with the flow.

When it’s time to say goodbye to your friend Caroline, you tried hard not to cry, you promised to call her often. You didn't know if you would see her again or how you would find her the next time, but you left her house wishing to meet her again.

Finally all goodbyes comes to end, Javi picked you up and you got to the airport together. You were both excited while getting on the plane.

"I think I'm really going to kidnap you this time," he whispered in your ear.

You giggled. "Should I call for help?"

"Don't bother, baby, the plane is already in the air," he smirked, kissing your cheek.

Through the window you could see that you were floating in the air, whatever was below looked tiny.

"Wow," you murmured as you say goodbye to your country, took a deep breath and leaned on Javi's shoulder.

You wished for a new page, a new life, and this time without trouble, please.

-----

It was a hot afternoon when the plane landed in San Antonio. There was only one direct flight from Santa Marta, but the distance between San Antonio and Laredo was 160 miles, which meant at least a two-hour drive. So after the flight, Javi rented a car from a rental agency. You took food in the car before you left, and you ate all the way. You even helped Javi when he had trouble drinking his coke and had fun feeding him the french fries one by one. As car drives through the roads of Texas, you enjoyed the scenery, desert-like plains, hills that in places were just sand and rock reflecting the color of the sun.

You poked your head out of the car window, admiring the scenery, enjoying the way your hair blew in the wind.

By the time you reached downtown, it was almost evening and the sun was about to set. As Javi drives, he pointed and told you about the important places around you, the police station where he worked as a deputy sheriff, the restaurant where he and his father used to go for dinner, his favorite bars, and other places around town.

"Amazing," you murmured, it was more beautiful than Cali.

You loved it, you couldn't wait to see everywhere on foot, but it was a long drive and you felt so tired. When Javi stopped at the gas station to get some gas you wanted to be on your feet for a while, you got out of the car and looked around curiously, since it was evening, people were going their home.

Later, Javi came out of the convenience store and walked towards you holding two cold glass bottles of coke. He uncapped one and handed it to you, and as you thanked him and took a sip, someone called out to him.

A guy about Javi's age, apparently he has also come to get gas. As they talking, he eyed you and then turned back at Javi, you blushed, he must have been a relative or a friend.

You opened the door and got in as Javi said goodbye to him and walked to the car.

Javi muttered himself as he opened the door.

"Someone you know?"

Javi started the engine, "My fucking cousin," he hissed.

You looked at him curiously as car started, he obviously didn't like him very much.

Javi laughed at the look on your face.

"He's probably going to tell the whole town that he saw me with an extremely beautiful girl," he said smiling, taking your hand and kissing it.

"What's wrong with that? I mean, people always like to talk about other people."

"You were born and raised in the city, cariño, in a small town like this, people will do anything for new gossip content."

"I guess, I'm the gossip content."

Javi pursed his lips as if he wasn't sure.

"Okay, now I'm officially worried."

"Do you already regret coming here with me?" He grinned.

You rolled your eyes, "No, of course not, I can take it, it's not like they're holding a gun to my head."

Seeing the flash of anger in Javi's eyes, you immediately regretted saying that.

"I mean, metaphorically, I-“

He put his arm around your neck, pulled you against him and kissed you on the head, his other hand was on the steering wheel and he kept driving the car.

“With me by your side, no one will be able to do anything to you.”

You nodded, “I know.”

“Here we are,” he parked the car in the yard of a small house. You looked at the house, it was much more beautiful than you have imagined. It was a small but spacious ranch house with a large porch.

Javi unloaded his suitcases from the trunk, they were all yours, he only had luggagebag, slung over his shoulder. He realized you still in the car, so he opened the car door for you.

“My lady,” he held out his hand to you.

“Mr. Peña,” you smiled, took his hand to get out

“Welcome to your new home then,” he kissed you on the cheek and you followed him as he carried the suitcases to the porch.

“Pops!” he called out, but it was very quiet, nothing but crickets.

“Maybe he went to the banks,” he put the suitcases in front of the door of a room in the hall.

As soon as you stepped inside you glanced over the kitchen, the living room, the furnitures, all in classic Texas style. Just like you’ve seen in the movies.

“It's a lovely house,” you said as you checking the wall decors.

“Come with me,” Javi grabbed your hand and pulled you into one of the rooms.

It was cozy, with a bed with a wooden headboard, a wooden dresser, and walls painted a light grayish color.

Javi hugged you from behind, “so this is my room, or, our room,” he giggled.

His breath caresses your cheeks and you almost forgot all your tiredness when you felt his mustache rubbing your neck.

“Do you want to try out the bed?”

He pulled you gently by the waist and before you knew it you found yourself laying on the bed. He leaned over and kissed you, and you put your arms around his neck.

“Mm, It's really comfortable,” you giggled.

He was about to kiss you again but you both stopped as you heard a loud man's voice.

“Son! Is that you?”

Javi turned his head that way.

“Yeah, it's me pops!” he called out, then grabbed your hand, gently pulling out of the bed.

You both left the room as Javi's father hanging his hat on the coat rack. He approached with smile and hugged his father.

“How you doing, pop?”

“Same old same old,” he tapped him on the shoulder, then looked at you, you were so excited, smiling shyly.

“Who is this beautiful young lady?”

“Yes, let me introduce you to Y/N,” putting his arm around you.

You approached him, “Pleasure to meet you sir,” you shook his hand, Chucho laughed.

“Sir? Come on, honey, call me Chucho, okay?”

“Okay Chucho,” you nodded, blushing.

“You guys hungry? You must be, you’ve came from far away after all,” he said on the way to the kitchen.

Javi looked at you raising eyebrows, you shrugged.

“Okay we'll join you for dinner,” he stepped around the table  and pulled up a chair.

“Come baby, sit,” pointing with his head.

“Maybe we should help him?”

“Come on, I'm not too old for that,” he muttered you felt like scolded, so you decided to sit down.

Javi kissed you on the cheek and went into the kitchen, you laughed to yourself as he tried to take the plates from his fathers hand and got scolded by him in return. You wondered if they were always like this. They were so sweet.

During meal you talked to Chucho about Colombia, but he was not a man who askes lots of questions. But you liked him. Obviously he liked you too, you felt pleased and relieved because you have been thinking for a long time that he might not like you.

He never asked about your father, what he did for a living or anything like that, and felt appreciated.

More, you were surprised by the harmony between them, the way Chucho reads Javi and his every move, so he chats with you accordingly, how Javi is super comfortable with him also reads him. So easy, so natural.

Your father has never been like that.

After dinner, sitting on the porch at night, Javi had a cursory conversation with his father about work, you sat with them in silence, smiling. When it got late, Chucho excused himself and retired to his room. 

“He's so nice,” you said to Javi as you sat in the chair next to him.

“He likes you too,” he smiled, finished his beer.

“Really?”

“He doesn't show his feelings much, but I'm sure.”

You nodded with a smile, then yawned, he smirked.

“It's been an exhausting day, let's go to bed,” he put his beer bottle down.

“Yeah, I feel pretty tired, can I take a shower first?”

Javi took your face in his hands. “You don't have to ask for that.”

“Well actually since there's only one bathroom...”

You were a little shy and concerned about that.

“It's okay, Chucho doesn't spend a lot of time in bathroom.”

“Hmm, okay, I guess I need time to get used to it.”

Javi placed a warm kiss on your lips.

“I'll help you with that.”

You yawned again as hugged him, he kissed the top of your head and looked at you.

“Why don't we take a bath together?”

“A bath?” raising your eyebrows.

Not shower?

Javi opened the bathroom door. "You grumbled about bathroom, but we have a bathtub that I think you'll like it."

You hasn't been in the bathroom since you came and now you saw the tub, feeling relieved.

"That's more like it."

Once the two of you were in the bathroom, Javi closed the door behind you, turned on the tap, and put the drain cork in the tub. You were watching him pour the bubble bath solution into the running water. As the tub filled, you took off your necklace and earrings, putting on the cabinet.

Javi was right behind you, slipped the straps of your dress and running his lips on your shoulder, you giggled as his mustache tickled a little. Then you turned to him and kissed. As the kiss deepened, you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly while he was busy taking off your dress with his long fingers. Your hands slipped from his neck to his shirt to unbutton it one by one, in a minute, your dress dropping to the floor then his shirt.

And then your bra, Javi undid it and took it off, then with your help he got rid of his pants and underwear and kicked the piles of clothes into a corner of the bathroom.

The tub was fairly full, Javi shut off the tap. He stepped in first laid back at the edge of the tub, looking at you with desire.

“Come on baby,” he licked his lips as he invites you in.

“Looks fun,” you giggled and settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His wet hands were on your waist, on your shoulders, covering you with bubbles, rubbing gently, it felt so good.

Bubbles let your skin slide effortlessly against his so he pulled you closer, that made you brush against his cock, and he let out a moan of pleasure. Smiling at his mouth, you repeated the motion, teasing him.

You love when he moans.

He was so close to your entrance yet not inside, the bubbly water making everything feel slippery. But you wanted him so badly so you reached down and grabbed his cock and let it sliding inside. He moaned, grabbed your hips thrust up and pushes you down.

He grinned at your moan. "You love it.”

“I never said I didn’t,” you were panting. “And, I love the way you feel inside me Javi,” you barely whispered, he feels your warm breathe against his ear that makes turn him on more.

“I like the feeling of being inside of you, too, baby,” he purred and slid out of you then thrust deeply up into you, making you moan with great pleasure.

You moved against each other in a practiced rhythm, knowing each others' bodies well enough now that they didn't need to speak much. He pulled you down hard against him when he came same time with you, both moaning loud. You were sure the two of you were sloshing water out onto the floor now, but you didn't care.

He kissed you as sitting you sideways in his lap and leaning you into his strong chest.

Then just looked down at you, smiling. “I love you baby.”

“Love you too Javi.”

‘Y/N, cariño?’

Javi's worried voice suddenly woke you up. When you opened your eyes, you were gasping for breath, you couldn't understand why.

Javi put his hand on your cheek and leaned over you, his brow furrowed and his brown eyes looking very concerned.

'What, what happened?’

'Well, you were delirious, did you have a bad dream?

'Yeah?' Suddenly the dream just came back to you.

'Never mind, it was just a nightmare,' you said with a half smile.

‘Do you want to tell me about it?’

You sighed deeply.

'Well, a man had a gun to my head and you rushed to save me, but...' You swallowed. 'You didn't make it.’

Javi sighed and ran his nose through your hair, then kissed your forehead.

‘That will never happen, no one can hurt you, just try to forget what happened, please.’

‘I know, it's just a stupid dream.’

Suddenly your stomach growled and you felt so embarrassed, Javi laughed.

‘Let's get up, dad's probably already awake,' he kissed you again and got up to get dressed.

Sitting on the bed, you having a poker face because you were still in the grip of the dream, didn’t want him to worry.

When he left the room, you went to the bathroom and splashed water on your face hard. As you looked at your face in the mirror, you promised yourself that you would leave the stupid dream behind and try to live in the moment.

As you opened the bathroom door, you heard a woman's voice, walked to the living room, you saw a tall, middle-aged woman with curly dark brown hair hugging Javi.

As soon as she saw you, her mouth fell open.

‘Jesus,’ she raised her hands as she came towards you and immediately hugged you tightly, ignoring your flinch, then pulled her head back to study your face in detail.

‘What a beauty, no wonder why Javi rejected the girls I’ve arranged.’ she giggled, squeezing your shoulders gently, it was hard to tell if she was scolding or admiring.

You felt your face flush.

‘Tía,’ Javi whined.

‘Leave the girl alone Sofia,’ Chucho muttered.

‘Are you Javi's aunt?’ your soft voice sounded like a ringing, and the woman once again looked at you in amazement.

You held yourself from laughing.

‘Sí, cariño,’ she smirked. ‘And you must be the reason that kept Javi in Colombia all this time.’

Well she had a point.

‘Except the cartels,’ Chucho murmured, sipping his coffee.

‘Okay that's enough, come on baby, eat something,’ Javi grabs your hand and pulled you away from his aunt.

He pulled out a chair and sat you down quickly, you smiled shyly.

‘Why don't you guys come round for dinner tomorrow?’ Sophia suddenly asked.

Javi and his dad ignored her but you looked at her curiously. Javi put bacon on your plate blinked at you.

‘Javi, after Danny's wedding you didn't come to our house even once, you went to Colombia all of sudden. Please come round for dinner tomorrow night, Danny will be there with his wife too,’ she said as she clasped his hands together.

Javi rolled his eyes at her and then looked at you, taking your nod without speaking.

‘Okay, we'll be there,’ he said and shoved the whole piece of bacon in your mouth.

‘Eat up baby,’ he laughed at the look on your face.

‘Great, I have to go and tell Bruno right away,’ she said happily and kissed you on the cheek, almost made you choking on the bacon.

“You coming too Chucho?” she turned to him.

“You invite me for dinner? I'll be damned.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic, hermano,” then she looked at you and Javi smiling. “See you tomorrow, cariños.”

She was mumbling something happily as she hurried off the porch.

‘Excuse my aunt,’ Javi said turning to you. ‘We won't go if you don't want us to.’

You swallowed the bacon and shook your head no. ‘No, we said we'd go, we have to go, they're your relatives.’

Javi smiled and nodded.

The next evening, while you were in the room getting ready for dinner, Javi opened the door and came in.

‘You don't need so much make-up, you're already so beautiful,’ he looking at you in the mirror.

‘Well I'm a bit nervous, if they don't like me-’

‘As if such a thing was possible,’ he leaned against the dresser, crossing his arms, watching you with a smile as you brushing your hair.

You turned your eyes to him, he was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, his hair was combed as usual and the brown of his eyes was perfect as always. He was the one who didn't need prepare himself.

He was beautiful.

‘Why are you blushing,’ his hand caressed your cheek.

Am I?

Every time you looked at him you wondered how he could affect you as much as the first time you saw him. And how could you love him more and more every day, was such a thing even possible?

When he frowned and looked at you, you smiled to yourself, being with him, being in his life was priceless.

‘If you don't feel well, we should-’

You shut him by kissing him.

‘Let's go.’

It was evening when you arrived at Javi's aunt's house, not far away. She greeted you enthusiastically on the porch, her husband was just as excited. He was a man of medium height, a little overweight, very cheerful. Javi was holding your hand tightly as you entered the house, but his aunt overpowered him and grabbed you by shoulder and dragged you inside for a quick tour of the house.

Their house was bigger than Chucho's, two stories, with a large porch and wide garden.

With her son and daughter-in-law arrived, she invited you to the table. It was very elaborate, so much food, there were even some dishes you have never seen before.

“What a lovely house,” you said, smiling.

“Ah, thank you, is your home back in Colombia like this? I wonder what it's like,” she handed you a plate of salad.

“Yes, sort of,” you said, taking some on your plate, of course your house was bigger, but you had no intention of saying that.

“What city have you lived in Colombia?” this time her daughter-in-law asked.

“Cali.”

“Ah, Javi, you were stationed there too, right? How did you two meet anyway?”

Javi and you looked at each other, you knew this question was coming but never thought about how to answer it correctly.

“At the bar.”

“At the bar.”

You both surprised and smiled at each other.

“Aren't they lovely, darling?”

Her husband shook his head as yes so busy with eating meanwhile.

“What about your parents, have they come here too or did you-”

“For fucks sake,” Chucho grumbled. “Let the girl eat something. You invite her to eat or interrogate her?”

After dinner, when they were serving drinks, his aunt asked you about other things, but luckily you were able to handle it.

God, she asked a lot.

 Eventually it got late, time to leave

"There's a wedding party at Friday night, downtown, will you be there?" she asked suddenly as you walking out the door with Javi. "It’s Enrique, Javi, you know him since childhood."

She said to Javi, but her eyes were on you.

"Well, if Javi wants to," you looked at his face, he was definitely reluctant but he didn't want to be nagged by his aunt.

"Well, we'll be there, I guess, thanks for inviting us tía," he said, grabs you by the shoulders and leading you away from his aunt with crooked smile.

"Great, everyone will be there, I can't wait to see their faces when they realize what a beautiful lady you are with," she giggled mischievously from behind you as you approaching the car.

The tone of her voice changed when she says that everyone but you didn't care. Maybe she meant that everyone will be staring at you so warns you to watch your back.

"I thought no one here would act like I’m the daughter of someone important," you said, pursing your lips, "I wanted to be ordinary, invisible."

Javi giggled. "It's impossible to be invisible with such beauty, hermosa."

He bent his head and kissed you, his father glancing in the rearview mirror and smirked, you flushed with shame.

----------- All episodes here --------------

[tswiftupdatess]

Taylor Swift on attending Travis Kelce's Games:

“I don’t know how they know what suite I’m in, There’s a camera, like, a half-mile away, and you don’t know where it is, and you have no idea when the-camera is putting you in the broadcast, so I don’t know if I’m being shown 17 times or once. I’m just there to support Travis, I have no awareness of if I’m being shown too much and pissing off a few dads, Brads, and Chads. Football is awesome, it turns out, I’ve been missing out my whole life.”

(December 6, 2023)

[seeminglyranch87]

Taylor & Travis Timeline

December 2023 - part 1

December 1 - Taylor and Travis attend Christmas Party at a pop-up bar wearing matching Christmas sweaters featuring squirrels - or should we say "squirle"? IYKYK. (x) Kansas City

Twitter April 2011 - Travis

IG Halloween Oct. 2021 - Taylor

December 2 - Travis arrives ahead of Chiefs v Packers Game, Green Bay, WI

December 3 - Chiefs v Packers, Lambeau Field, Green Bay, Wisconsin. Defeated 19 - 27

Taylor attends the game bringing Brittany Mahomes & Lyndsay Bell with her on her jet. They return to KC immediately after the game.

December 5 - Taylor seen out for dinner with Jack Antonoff in NYC

December 6 - Taylor Swift is announced as TIME Person of the Year - 2023 (x) This is a brilliant article - go check it out!

Most recently, she’s been dating the NFL star Travis Kelce, as has been well documented when she attends his games. “I don’t know how they know what suite I’m in,” she says. “There’s a camera, like, a half-mile away, and you don’t know where it is, and you have no idea when the camera is putting you in the broadcast, so I don’t know if I’m being shown 17 times or once.” She is sensitive to the attention that’s put on her when she shows up. “I’m just there to support Travis,” she says. “I have no awareness of if I’m being shown too much and pissing off a few dads, Brads, and Chads.”

I point out that it’s a net positive for the NFL to have a few Swifties watching. “Football is awesome, it turns out,” Swift says playfully. “I’ve been missing out my whole life.” (A game she attended in October was the most-watched Sunday show since the Super Bowl.)

“This all started when Travis very adorably put me on blast on his podcast, which I thought was metal as hell,” she says. “We started hanging out right after that. So we actually had a significant amount of time that no one knew, which I’m grateful for, because we got to get to know each other. By the time I went to that first game, we were a couple. I think some people think that they saw our first date at that game? We would never be psychotic enough to hard launch a first date.” The larger point, for her, is that there’s nothing to hide. “When you say a relationship is public, that means I’m going to see him do what he loves, we’re showing up for each other, other people are there and we don’t care,” she says. “The opposite of that is you have to go to an extreme amount of effort to make sure no one knows that you’re seeing someone. And we’re just proud of each other.”

Taylor attends the premiere of "Poor Things" in support of friend Emma Stone, Rockefeller Center, NYC. Taylor sat with Laura Dern, Suki Waterhouse and Robert Pattinson

December 8 - Taylor seen out with Selena Gomez, Zöe Kravitz, Cara Delevingne, Anya Taylor-Joy in NYC

Go to December 2023 part 2

Return to the timeline

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

How much they wanted to see each other?

Another people had made analysis, but I honestly couldn't help myself but to examine another scene, because I need to squeal at this.

While the beginning clue us in how much they miss each other (which wow, I knew Miles was crushing on Gwen since the first movie, but Gwen doesn't get behind AT ALL.) When they reunite, is very interesting.

Leaving aside that a lot of stuff changed from the teaser (because WOW, they really went and say "put the teenage crush up to 11" to both of them,) we really are sold in how much Miles is crushing on her, both from the drawings (in the notebook and the Walls, she was the first drawing and she appears the most,) and the last movie.

Gwen in contrast, comes a lot more subtle not just because Miles cannot hide his emotions for the life of him; while Gwen has issues controlling her anger, or had before, you can see that in general closes off about her feelings, and tries to not talk too much about it. In other words, she has a tendency to hide, and it is reflected on the screen.

Just as much as is shows that when she cares she can't help herself.

First When she appears, she tries to act as if is not a big deal. She is just opening a hole to create an entrance from another dimension, no biggie.

Miles barely had time to recollect himself (a lot more coherent if it was me that's for sure.) But again, I think that is to be expected.

What I like is what Gwen is doing.

The first thing she does is try to appear casual, looking around to anything in the room before him.

But the second she looks at him (and I mean SECOND, I was trying to get a decent screenshot but is hard.) she hugs him.

(We will take a moment to appreciate Miles being so out of left field he is just frozen.)

I also like to note that Gwen is probably a very physically affectionate person, or at least, someone who likes being physically affectionate with the people important to her.

We can see it with her dad in how even when things with him are tense, she doesn't hesitate to hug him because despite everything, she loves her dad.

And with the spider society being well, the spider society (That's a topic for another day and maybe not this blog,) she probably doesn't have a lot of affection these days, which makes sense go to Miles since well, she REALLY has miss him.

But I don't think she agrees with that.

Hey, remember how I was talking about how cool and collected Gwen seems at first, just to be betrayed by her own emotions because she cannot help it? This is happens often and I love it.

I think this is a good time as any as to talk about something that the movie could had done, and I am SO glad that they didn't.

Part of the reason I was lukewarm to this ship in the first movie, is that it was doing partially the very tired trope of "Dorky protagonist has a hopeless crush in the badass female co-lead and despite finding him annoying at first, they end up together."

Luckily it doesn't actually immerse into that trope and Miles has more personality than most of those archetypes; but being a super hero movie, I was kind of tired of this, and while I think Miles crush on Gwen was cute in the first movie, I didn't think they would turn around.

When the teaser dropped, I was afraid it was going to just dive in that route.

And yet, this movie does the interesting thing, by having Gwen actually lose the cool mask sometimes.

Because yes, Gwen is cool, she is awesome. She is badass and she can still, probably defeat Miles if she really wanted to; she has been a spider for longer than him so that makes sense.

However, even if she is all those things, she is still a teen, with a crush, and even her coolness cannot stop the fact that she probably doesn't know how to do this either.

I love how as much as Gwen wants to act cool, she still slips up because she probably thinks she made Miles uncomfortable by hugging him like that (he was just a slow to react, yet that would be my read if I was her.) And also because again, she knows she needs to take it easy.

I found funny how she just realizes this is his room, despite technically she giving it "a look" when she came in. Like I say, she was just trying to contain herself.

Miles being nervous about looking like a kid (valid fear considering one of the last things Gwen said to him was how she was 15 months older than him.) is normal and cute.

While I don't doubt Gwen teased Miles a little, and I still don't know what to say about the ripping scene; she sounds a lot more relaxed about the fact that one may think. I had people react badly to my fandom stuff that is often perceived as childish; so while Gwen still shouldn't had done that, it wasn't bad in my eyes.

Now let's talk about one of the favourite scenes for us shippers.

When she sees the drawings, I think she sounds a tad shocked and confuse, which is normal all things consider. What is important for me is Gwen's reaction.

THIS isn't the face of someone uncomfortable with that information.

Listen, I am not trying to shoot my own horn or anything, but when I was younger, I had people confess to me, from private to in a very public manner; and it can be extremely uncomfortable and awkward.

I had needed to find a way to keep my face neutral, and man isn't easy.

But Gwen doesn't look like she is trying to pretend everything is fine, she looks actually fine with this information.

She literally found out her friend has a stupid amount of drawings of her, imagine someone you know and who you don't have interest doing that to you.

There is no way she will be this chirpy about those drawings if she wasn't a bit happy about it.

Which is part of the reason I love this sequence, because Gwen knew Miles's crush on her from before, but it has been over a year, and you don't know how much it can change. So her initial insecurity makes sense.

And it only takes her less than 5 minutes to confirm that nope, he is still head over heels for her.

And I think getting her cool back and how she reels him in her direction show that.

Also, look at this face.

This is exactly why everyone clock's Miles feelings in 0.5 seconds, it never stops shining.

However, as much as his feelings shine through, Gwen doesn't stop showing them back constantly, as discretely as she can.

[the-archetype-of-civilization]

More little things I noticed in my third rewatch of ATSV.

-SPOILERS AHEAD-

There was a moment that confused me where Spot was robbing the guy of the ATM and he was setting down some cans for (seemingly) no reason. He was actually placing the ATM on top of the cans so he can roll it out.

I can't confirm if this is what was actually there, but when Uncle Aaron was telling Miles they "gotta roll," there was an acrylic stand of Spider-Man there that looked like Miles Morales Spider-Man (color and all).

When Miles was swinging through 42 NYC, there was an advertisement for "Vulture" something, I'm assuming a company. Messed up.

When Miguel first introduces himself by ramming into Vulture, Gwen gets to the spot and does this really slick landing animation where she kinda just gracefully brushes against the bannister briefly before landing on the ground.

42 Rio being given more hours at the hospital shows just how bad 42 New York has gotten without a Spider-Man. Terrifying.

I think I may have pointed this out on a previous post, but 1610 Uncle Aaron had a lucky black cat while 42 Uncle Aaron had a lucky white cat instead. I also like the parallels of Peter being tied up against a punching bag by Miles in ITSV while Miles is tied up by Uncle Aaron in ATSV.

I find it hilarious that Miles STILL doesn't know about ComicCon and didn't bother to look it up since ITSV when 42 Rio brings up "ComicsCon."

When Hobie is blocking off Miles from walking through to Miguel and Miles bumps into him, there's a tiny skull that appears when they make contact. It might just be a punk thing, but I wonder if it's an omen for the bad thing that's ahead of Miles.

Lego Spider-Man's vocalized "boop boop"s killed me.

I love the reveal when Miles realizes he's in the wrong universe, the camera pulls into his face and twists slightly. Obvious but nonetheless cool film styling of "his world is spinning" aside, I love that it feels like a 40's/50's kind of thing. Like this is something that you would see in The Twilight Zone, it nails the old comic book-y vibes too.

42 Miles' facial posture has his head up high and his chin slightly jutting out and up, like he's this "in-charge," cold, dignified superior while our Miles has his chin straight, sometimes pointed down and his head straight, showing he's trying to appeal to his humanity and trying to be humble and unassuming. It's awesome details like this that I love.

Hearing Spot say that he couldn't get a job because of what happened to him at that deli really hurts, honestly. Even if, in a way, he himself is partially to blame, it sucks that he has to resort to this. And the way he says it, almost in a "well, I can't do anything else so this is the only thing I can do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯" kind of way is really saddening, like he's trying to take it in stride and as a matter of fact. As awful as Spot becomes, I still feel bad for him.

Miles has a "#BLM" pin on his backpack. I'm sure people saw it already and it's probably a given, but in a world where media is trying to appeal to as wide of an audience as possible, it's nice to see the studio make a clear stance with a character that absolutely fits the bill.

That title drop for Earth 42 when Uncle Aaron tries to dab up Miles going into slow-mo with the music subdued was dope as fuck.

Miles throwing his arms up when asking when his dad dies ("When does it happen?!") is so on-point and well animated, it feels like something every New Yorker would do (I would personally know, since I am one).

When Gwen asks Jess if she ever made mistakes, Jess' reply, saying "yeah, but I got over it," is pretty toxic. It feeds into Gwen's need to avoid her problems rather than address them and face them, and I think that's why she probably chooses to avoid discussing things about Miles to him directly.

That look of disgust on Miles' face when he's being surrounded by Spider-People ("What is this? Some kind of intervention or something?") was so real.

The long silence between Miles choosing to go into the portal to follow Gwen is so good, I love when the movie speaks for itself rather than the dialogue. You can see the hesitation in Miles' eyes and face and then his determination as he jumps headfirst into the portal. A great character scene and fitting transition into the next act.

The album cover for the soundtrack is so good and comes from the scene where Miles goes into the portal. It feels like a mix of something from a Golden Age comic book cover, Miles' hand opened out towards the camera like he's being thrust into another world. And the colors of the portal and transition to Mumbattan are gorgeous. Fills the 40's/50's vibes I was talking about earlier, too.

Jeff's toast is really well done and I like how heartfelt and real it feels. Makes his anger, unfortunately, justified on Miles, even if Miles was trying to do the right thing for him and Rio in the end.

"I was just cool the whole time" is such a boss line, I love Hobie.

Miguel casually (almost lazily) swinging around rescuing civilians at the Guggenheim whilst talking to Gwen about a serious conversation is unironically cool. And it fits to his character, he's probably done it so many times that it becomes child's play in the end.

"I ain't got Scooby-Doo, mate."

How does Hobie know that Miles should use his palms for those powers? Curious.

"But now...I'm not afraid of anything." I love Miles so much, he's grown and become so strong not just for himself but for others. He's the best Spidey. Full stop.

I love the reversal of reflections for Gwen. At the beginning of the movie, she's in her casual wear but with the reflections always showing her in her Spider outfit. At the end, she comes home in her Spider outfit but with herself in her casual wear in the reflection instead. She started off alone in the world as Spider-Woman and ended feeling like Gwen. Her arc was completed and she's facing herself, the real Gwen Stacy and not Spider-Woman.

I felt bad that the deli clerk got bonked by the bat :( But, at least he's all right.

Miles saying "Don't do that" to the kid licking the subway window is real. That shit is nasty, the windows are the least clean parts of NYC's subway.

I love that both Gwen and Miles use comically deep voices around their respective dads. It's cute.

When the police officer was saying "I think we found our sign" when Gwen webbed them up, George's silent head turn with unamusement was awesome.

I will not have anymore George Stacy slander. Yeah, he made a bad call in seemingly arresting his daughter, but he QUIT his job for her. He loves her that much that he quit being, not just a police officer, but a CAPTAIN, for HER sake.

Speaking of which, when George had his gun pointed at her before she unmasked, he had his gun down the whole time after she unmasked, even while he was re-relaying her her rights. And when she tries to approach him, his gun flinches up a bit but stops.

"Can you go easy on the penguin?"

This is actually a follow-up post, since I said before that I might make another. This movie is too much for me and I love taking it apart.

Edit: I'm sorry for the constant updates and changes/revisions, but I can't stop thinking about this movie.

[whositmcwhatsit]

Save Me

Written for the prompt: How are we going to solve this problem?

1976 Elvis in a leather coat for my beloved @vintageshanny This one got away from me, there's so much more to come!

@thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @missmaywemeetagain, @ellie-24, @from-memphis-with-love, you are the best, funniest, kindest and most awesome people.

The air shimmered and glittered across the tarmac of the highway, promising oases, lights and civilisation, all of which would turn out to be mirages, as Cindy had discovered after walking five miles in the unrelenting searing wind wearing cowboy boots. The lukewarm can of coke she had been nursing the entire way was bone dry now and she had to admit that she was beginning to panic.

It made no sense, this highway was usually jam packed with people heading to and from LA for the  weekend, but there had only been a smattering of traffic heading in either direction, and none of the hoity toity rich folks had apparently felt inclined to stop for a dusty, sweaty woman standing by the side of the road.

No one at home would even realise anything was amiss before Monday when she was supposed to be at work. They’d probably call home to find out why she was missing her shift, and her dad would think she was pulling a sick day and cover for her, not knowing… God, she was going to end up being eaten alive by buzzards. She squinted up at the sky, paranoid that she could see shadows circling overhead.

The cream car slid through the glimmering haze like it was heaven sent, its gold-plated grille and finishes adding to the surreal quality as it sped on, looking like it was going to rush past her in a fog of sand and exhaust fumes like all the others. It was heading in the wrong direction anyway, she told herself. Though there was no wrong direction away from death by overheating and scavengers.

The sound of tyres skidding in grit behind her made her turn and she saw the car had stopped a couple of hundred yards up the road. She paused, surprised, then broke into an anxious jog, almost sliding over in the roadside dust, her boot soles worn to slipperiness.

Coming to the driver’s window, she hesitated as, instead of the usual well to do middle aged couple or family, she came face to face with a car full of men. They were all wearing sunglasses and, frankly, unwelcoming expressions.

“Uh, thank you for stopping,” she mumbled, her tongue dry and oversized in her mouth. “I was starting to get worried.” The moustachioed man at the wheel just stared at her from behind dark brown lenses.

“Where you headed, honey?” asked a soft voice in the backseat. She frowned, shooting a last look at the blank faced driver before side-stepping to the window behind. She blinked rapidly, sure that what she saw was the result of dehydration, heatstroke and probably the remnants of the acid she had ingested at the beginning of road trip yesterday.

“Uh, well, I was heading back to LA,” she managed, nodding her head in the opposite direction, “but right now I’d settle for a ride to the nearest town with a phone.”

“You got car trouble?”

“In a way,” she shrugged, not wanting to go into her pathetic predicament with him, of all people. She didn’t miss the way that the other men in the car were looking at each other, sharing some sort of communication, and it made her question how desperate her situation really was. Maybe she could wait for the next car…

“You know, my guys here think that we should’ve driven right on by you. They said you could be dangerous like one of those Manson chicks. You know what a honeypot is, darlin’?” She could hear someone sniggering inside the car.

“I’m not anyone’s chick,” she retorted, rubbing sand out of her eye. “And definitely not that psycho’s. Look, thanks for stopping, but I’m fine.” She stomped off, heading back to where she had been standing.

Wrapping her hands around herself, she tried to force her heart to stop pounding. She would be fine, someone would come along, a nice family with a dog she could pet. It would all be fine.

She clenched her jaw as she heard a car door click shut and then heavy footsteps crunch towards her.

“Goddamn, it’s hot,” said Elvis Presley as he stopped at her side wearing a knee length leather coat fastened and belted in the California desert. He must’ve caught her look because he hiccupped a laugh and glanced down at himself. “Well, the car has air conditioning… A-a-and not all of us can look as good as you do in little shorts, honey.” She snorted in spite of herself, feeling her shoulders drop slightly.

“Look, I was only teasin’ before,” he said, adjusting his sunglasses and jutting his jaw pensively. “You’re a good girl, I know. I can tell that about you. I have a sense for these things.” She glanced over at the car and the two big, older guys who were leaning against it, arms crossed to show off their shoulder holsters. “And them- Well, they all do and think what I tell ‘em to, so…”

“I think I’ll be okay,” she murmured. “I’m probably better off waiting for a car going the other way anyway.”

“You’ll be waiting a while, sweetheart, Highway Patrol closed the road about twenty miles that way.”

Well, that explained that.

“Oh God,” she groaned, bending forward at the waist and just dropping like a rag doll until her hair poked into the top of her boots. “Why is this happening?! Wait, if the road’s closed, how come you’re here?”

Well, it’s closed for the public,” he answered, like this explained everything. At her questioning look, he pulled a wallet from the pocket of his coat and flashed her a shiny silver badge. “I ain’t the public.” Her eyebrows knitted tighter together and, after a moment, she reached out and pinched his arm.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, this is just really weird. I had to check.” He smiled, but it took him a minute and he was still rubbing his arm like she had stabbed him rather than given him a little pinch. “You are Elvis, right?”

“Last time I checked, but keep your voice down, honey, I’m travelling incognito.” He gave her a wink and she found herself smiling even though she didn’t know why. “Now, look, let’s get in the car before I melt like a goddamn snowman and we can figure out how to get you where you need to go on the way.”

“On the way to where?”

“My house in Palm Springs.”

As she was deliberating, another fancy car pulled up alongside the cream Cadillac station wagon and a smaller, lean man with a moustache hurried out of the driver’s seat to them.

“Hey, what’s going on, why are y’all by the side of the road?”

“Just rescuing, er- What’s your name, honey?”

“Cindy.”

“We were just rescuing Cindy here. This here’s my cousin, Billy. He might look like a marble-eyed sonovabitch, but-” The other man, Billy, gave Elvis’ arm a punch, but even Cindy could see that there was barely any force behind it, and certainly nowhere near what Elvis retaliated with. Both men burst into laughter, though Billy’s seemed pained.

“I can’t ride with you,” she tried one last time. “There isn’t any space for me, your car is full.”

“Huh, you’re right. How are we going to solve this problem? Hey, Sonny, Red!” The two big men looked over, straightening. “You guys ride in the Stutz with Ricky and David. Billy and Jo are coming with us.”

“Hey, E,” the dark haired one started in a disgruntled voice. Cindy didn’t miss the way that Elvis’s face snapped towards him and whatever expression he had put an end to the complaint.

“I’ve been defending myself from little girls for over twenty years, man, I’m sure I won’t have any problems here.” Lowering his voice, he finished so that only Cindy and probably Billy could hear, “Don’t exactly think I wanna defend myself anyhow.”

Travel arrangements made, Cindy followed Elvis’s broad back on her way back to the Cadillac. She questioned what she was doing, wondering what he was expecting from her in terms of gratitude. Then she shook her head. This was Elvis Presley, after all, he was probably dripping in beautiful models, he didn’t need to pick up damsels in distress by the side of the road to get lucky. He looked different to how she thought though, heavier for sure, that leather coat seemed uncomfortably tight, pale too, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been combed. Of course, she was in no position to judge since her skin had acquired a new layer of dirt and dust and her hair was ratty from sleeping in the van the night before.

The car was deliciously cool as promised, and she sighed as she climbed into the soft leather back seat. Elvis managed to summon up a cold bottle of Mountain Valley spring water and his mouth quirked at the corner as she moaned a little gulping it down.

Billy and a dark-haired woman, who was apparently his wife Jo, sat in the front seat, leaving them alone in the back. It was quiet at first. Cindy gripped the glass bottle in her hands, savouring the cool surface against her hot, sweaty skin. She shifted slightly on the seat, hoping that she wasn’t marking it with her grime. It figured that she would finally meet her first famous person looking her absolute worst.

“So, uh, what happened to your car?” Elvis asked, turning a little so that he was inclined towards her. Her eyes fell on the three- three- thick gold chains around his neck that rested in the dark hair on his chest, disappearing beneath the lapels of his leather coat and the light blue tracksuit jacket was wearing underneath. She blinked and looked back up at his face.

“Well, nothing. It’s still at home back in the city,” she replied. “I- uh. See, I was out in the desert with some friends… camping.” She nodded, yes, ‘camping’. “And there was a misunderstanding between me and one of my friends. She thought I was into her boyfriend and she got mad and- They left me behind.”

“But you weren’t?” he asked. She was looking into his eyes, partially hidden by the tinted lenses of his sunglasses, and asking herself why the hell she was laying out the events of her pathetic life to Elvis fucking Presley. She lifted her eyebrows questioningly. “You weren’t fooling around with your friend’s boyfriend?”

“No,” she demurred. “No, he’s an idiot.” Elvis grinned and nodded, which somehow made her smile right back without thinking about it.

“You’ve had yourself an awfully bad day, haven’t you, Cindy honey. I, myself, have not been having a great day either. Kinda lucky of us to cross paths out here in the middle of nowhere, don’t you think?”

“Why are you having a bad day?” she asked.

“Don’t matter now,” he replied, giving her hand a quick pat. “So, where d’you live in Los Angeles?”

It went on like that, him questioning her and Cindy answering before returning the question back to him. Sometimes he’d answer, but most of the time he would just ask another question. She felt like she was being interviewed for a job she hadn’t applied for.

As the car drew up to a low, white Spanish style house, she was beginning to wonder if she might want the job after all, whatever it was.

Billy opened the car door and Elvis climbed out with a grunt, reaching out a hand to her. It felt like climbing out of a carriage, only she was the regular Cinderella before the fairy godmother had shown up, all covered in dirt and ashes. His fingers curled around hers, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand, and he didn’t release it once she was by his side.

“So, here we are, little honeypot,” he said with an endearing smirk, “come on in.”

Stepping into the house was like walking into a meat locker after the heavy, dry heat of the afternoon. She wanted to pause and bask in it, but Elvis still had hold of her hand and he was not stopping. He gave her the tour, introducing her to the cook, while the other men arrived in the black car and there was a flurry of activity, cases and bags being deposited in the foyer and quickly whisked away.

The whole time, Elvis was walking around, talking about views and telling her a funny story about the time a photographer tried to climb the canyon to get pictures of him in the backyard and he and the guys scared the man so bad that he dropped his camera down a steep incline.

“Bought him another one, of course,” he shrugged with a small smile. “Still, taught him a lesson about being sneaky. Can’t stand sneaky sons of bitches, just come and ask me if you want a picture, don’t- don’t be all underhanded about it.” He stared off out the window at the rocky canyon beyond and she watched and waited, wondering if she was supposed to respond. Finally, he gave his head a little shake and flashed a grin at her, looking at her sideways. And that moment was over.

“So, I’ve been thinking, Cindy honey,” he began, leading her to an upright chair by the window and gesturing for her to sit down. “About you having a bad day and me… And it seems like there’s more to this than meets the eye, I think what we have here is a touch of divine intervention.”

Mouth open, she parsed his words, trying to understand what she was being told. She didn’t.

“Ain’t no way we should have met, you being a little girl pretty much as far from Beverly Hills as you can get and me not going nowhere else, but somehow we did meet. I saved you, and maybe… maybe you can s- you can help me… too.”

“Well, what do you need help with?” she asked. He grinned his famous lopsided smile, reminding her that she was sitting in front of a musical legend, one of the most famous men on the planet, just like he was a regular person.

“Well, for one thing, I don’t like being on my own much and- and my date for the weekend kinda flaked out.” He huffed an awkward, endearing laugh. “You think you might wanna hang around, honey?”

“Well, I have to be at work on Monday,” she said dubiously, feeling a pang at the way he was looking down at her, like she had power.

“I’ll get you to work on Monday,” he replied emphatically. “I can promise you that.”

“But I don’t even have any of my things,” she murmured, thinking out loud. “I left them all in the van and-”

“I’ll get you whatever you need.” He raised his eyebrows. “Anything else? C’mon, while we’re on a roll, throw something else at me, honey.” She laughed, giving his hand a squeeze that he returned.

“Can I use your phone?”

“You got a guy you need to call?” he asked flatly.

“Sorta,” she shrugged. “My father- he’s sick and I don’t like to make him worry about where I am.”

“My daddy’s been sick too,” he murmured, “but he’s getting better.”

There was such determination in his voice that she felt like she had to nod back like she was convinced.

He took her into his bedroom, which she knew must look out over the pool from the layout of the rest of the house, but the curtains were already pulled tightly closed and it felt, if possible, even colder in this room.

“You can make your call in here,” he said, squeezing her shoulder as she perched on the edge of the bed next to the phone. “No one’ll bother you. I’m just gonna make some arrangements, deal with some things. I’ll be back.”

She watched him leave, pulling the door closed behind him, and reflected on the weirdness of everything that had happened in the past few hours. She reached for the phone, but stopped.

As far as her dad knew, she was camping with some girls from work. It had been hard enough to reassure him that she would be okay doing this. If she called him now and said that not only had those girls ditched her in the middle of nowhere, but that she had been picked up by Elvis and whisked away to this house in Palms Springs… Well, he might have the stroke that was going to finish him off, the one they had been warding against for five years.

There was a tap at the door and it opened before she could respond, but it was not Elvis. Jo, the woman married to his cousin, was standing there looking at her like she was a naughty child who had refused to tidy her room.

“What size are you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Size. I’m guessing a…” Her eyes flicked up and down with disinterest. “A six?”

“Four on the bottom half,” Cindy returned. “Why-“

“Shoes? What shoe size are you?”

Baffled and feeling a little bit harried, Cindy gave her the information she asked for, wondering if the woman was lending her some clean clothes or if maybe Elvis Presley of the famed pelvis, who reduced women to screaming, creaming morons with just a jiggle of his leg, had a special wardrobe for all his conquests.

“Okay, so you need to shower,” the older woman continued, directing her to a bathroom away from the bedroom. “Everything you need is just in here. Make sure you wash your hair, clean your nails, brush your teeth. Everything. He likes girls to be clean.”

What do you say to that? Cindy wondered, staring blankly as Jo repeated the instructions like it was normal, like this was an every day occurrence. To be fair, it probably was.

“Today is so weird,” Cindy murmured to herself as she stepped into the bathroom, holding the large, white terrycloth robe Jo had shoved at her. There were toiletries in a big basket, all brand new and unopened. Shampoos, conditioners, soaps and lotions. A toothbrush still in its packaging, razor, and hairbrush and combs. It was like visiting a hotel, an expensive one too, not just a roadside motel.

Turning on the shower, she spotted a little pink transistor radio on the vanity and she switched it on. She couldn’t shower in silence, she needed something to drown out her singing other than the noisy spray. Warbling along to whatever the DJ played, she did everything she had been told, scrubbing and rubbing and rinsing over and over until she finally felt like she had exfoliated the desert from her skin and her mind.

Wrapping the oversized robe around herself, she sashayed like it was a fur coat and she was walking past the velvet ropes at Studio 54, hoping to catch Jagger’s eye. She opened the bathroom door and stumbled back with a muffled shriek when she found a man about her age standing outside. He had shaggy dark hair and was wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, which she appreciated.

“You done?” he asked, eyes sliding up her bare legs like a snail leaving a trail across a rock. “You brush your teeth? Clean your nails?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” she returned. “Yes, I brushed, I cleaned, I buffed myself to within an inch of my life! God!”

“All right,” he shot back. “I was just checking, because the Boss likes girls to be-”

“Clean, yes, I’ve got it.” She was starting to wonder whether it was Elvis or Howard Hughes who had picked her up.

The man directed her back to the living room, which was dim and shaded now with the curtains pulled across most of the windows against the late afternoon sun.

“Just wait here for a minute,” he said, closing the door behind him.

Cindy shifted from bare foot to bare foot, looking up at the low, sloping ceiling and the immaculately clean fireplace. Her eyes fell on the coffee table and the thick stack of bills placed neatly there.

She wandered over as if called, eyes bugging when she saw that the pile was topped with a hundred. If they were all hundreds, there had to be five thousand dollars there, easy. She thought about all the hospital bills that kept coming to the house, red overdue stamp looking like blood. Then she thought about her dad finding out that she had stolen money to pay them.

Sighing, she forced her feet away from the coffee table and stalked over to the couch, throwing herself down. Having a conscience could be a curse sometimes.

A little while later, the door opened and the man himself finally appeared. He was wearing a short sleeve light blue leisure suit and his hair looked washed and blow-dried. He didn’t look well, she decided, but she couldn’t decide why that thought had popped into her head.

“You look like you’re being eaten by a cloud,” he observed with a little smile, exhaling sharply as he dropped onto the couch beside her. He nudged his leg against her, but didn’t seem to notice, almost like he couldn’t keep still. “You get everything you need, honey? You speak to your father?”

“Yes, thank you,” she lied.

It was probably a good idea to make him think that people knew where she was, she decided. He leant back, stretching his arm like he had a twinge in his shoulder and then resting it along the back of the couch behind her. She had to work hard not to giggle. It was like being back in middle school.

“Why d’you wear sunglasses indoors?” she asked, wincing at her words as soon as she spoke them. “Sorry, that was rude-" He laughed softly and shook his head; his arm slid forward slightly against her shoulders.

“No, no, it’s fine, honey. I, er, have to wear ‘em because I got sensitive eyes. The light messes with ‘em sometimes, that’s all.”

“It’s not very bright in here,” she observed, glancing around at the lengthening shadows around the room.

“Yeah, well, I- I kinda need ‘em to see as well,” he admitted, ducking his head. “Can’t see as good as I used to.”

“Oh, well, that makes sense.” His smile widened and she felt his fingers wrap around the top of her arm.

Sitting so close to him felt like sitting with her side to the Sun, he gave off so much warmth and also a sense of power, like he was the centre of the whole galaxy. He was stroking her arm with his fingers, and she could feel the rough end of his rings scraping the folds in her sleeve and she shivered.

He smirked and, despite the fuller face and the beginnings of a double chin, she could see the man who had made her feel tickly in her tummy during the Saturday matinees her dad had taken her to. She was looking into his eyes through the pinkish tinted lenses of his glasses, their faces drawing closer, when there was a tap on the door.

“Goddamn it,” Elvis muttered under his breath, probably louder than he thought he was. “Come in!”

Billy appeared with several bags, seemingly oblivious or indifferent to Elvis’ obvious annoyance.

“Here ya are, got what you asked for,” he said, lifting the bags.

“Well, just leave it by the door,” Elvis snapped back. “And why the hell d’you leave this cash here? You just throwing my money away now, man?”

There was a weird note in the exchange that Cindy couldn’t quite figure out, but Billy gathered up the money without argument and left, dropping the bags by the door.

“Families, huh,” she observed as he huffed an exasperated sigh, his round stomach rapidly expanding and deflating. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.”

“Yeah, so they tell me,” he returned, shooting the door one last look of annoyance, before turning back to her. “You know, I just wanted to say thank you, Cindy honey.”

 “For what?” Grabbing a ride? Taking a shower?

“For staying. It’s real nice of you."

Her mouth twisted into a baffled smile as her brain puzzled over whether she had heard him right. He did know who he was, right? He rubbed her arm over the terrycloth sleeve and twisted towards her. Her eyes dropped to his lips and, though they looked a little dry, they were plump and inviting. Soft too as he pressed them against hers.

It was a chaste, sweet kiss, he didn’t even try slip her any tongue. Cindy never made it to a dance in her sophomore year, but she imagined this was what it would have felt like. She reached up to hang her fingers from his neck, surprised again by how warm his skin was. The hair at the nape of his neck was damp with sweat and his breath wavered as she ran her thumbs curiously through his long sideburns. They felt soft and coarse at the same time and she couldn’t explain how.

“Yeah, I think someone or something has put you in my way for a reason,” he murmured, eyes fixed on her lips as he pulled back. She could feel herself begin to broil under his gaze. He pecked her lips again, pressing his weight against her. “Let’s get you ready, honey.”

Elvis led her around by the hand like she was a cross between a little child and a delicate princess. They went back into the kitchen where he told the cook that he wanted fried chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner, reminding her that the gravy wasn’t thick enough last time. He turned to Cindy, asking what she would like to eat.

“Aren't I having the same as you?” she asked. Asking for two different meals seemed… rude, somehow.

“Oh, honey, you don’t have-” He ducked his head and smiled. “She’ll have the same, just a regular size, okay?”

The woman smiled at Elvis the way that most women smiled at him, indulgently and kind of wistful. It was a strange thing to experience and then to see.

“Okay, lil honeypot, let’s get you dressed and ready for dinner,” he said, throwing a smile over his shoulder as he led her back to the bedroom.

The bags that Billy had left in the living room had been transported here and Elvis gestured to them. She peered inside, finding a white dress, underwear, and even shoes. She hadn’t worn so much white since her mom passed and her dad had turned everything grey with a misplaced sock when she was ten. She hesitated, wondering if he wanted her to put on a show, to earn them, but after she had waited for several minutes, he lifted a hand to the adjoining bathroom and motioned for her to go.

Wavering on the white, naturally, platformed heels, she tottered back into the bedroom where Elvis was reclined against the pillows reading a book. He glanced up over the top and gave an exaggerated double take.

“Who’s this sweet lil angel who’s showed up in my bedroom?” he asked, dropping the book on the bed and clambering up.

He crossed the room to her a little unsteadily and suddenly threw his arms around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She could barely breathe with how close he was holding her, his arms pinning hers to her sides, his stomach tight against hers, constricting her air. Even his thighs were hard against hers. She didn’t know what to do, so she lifted her arm as much as she was able to stroke the small of his back.

“You look so pretty,” he murmured, when he finally drew back, running his thumb over her lips in concentration. “We’ll get Jo in here to do your make up and you’ll be perfect.”

“I can do my own make-up,” she insisted, not wanting to be a source of irritation for the other woman yet again.

“No, honey, Jo knows how to do it the way I like it,” he replied, biting on his lip before leaning forward and kissing her, lingering on her lips this time, almost as if he wanted to deepen the kiss but lost his nerve. “I want you to look like you’re all mine.”

He ducked his head down bashfully in the way that she was already getting accustomed to, but this time there seemed to be more of a purpose to it. She glanced down too when she felt him fumbling with her wrist and she watched as he fastened a thick, heavy gold ID bracelet around it. On the front, Elvis was spelled out in large diamonds.

“There,” he mumbled, sounding self-satisfied. “Now everyone will know you’re mine.”

She didn’t know how to respond to this, not in a way that didn’t hurt his feelings, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. No, she was already feeling an overwhelming need to protect him, this much older, richer, more powerful man.

Jo didn’t really speak to her as she did her make up. Cindy could barely open her eyes with the weight of the eyeliner and mascara they had been coated in. She barely recognised the woman she saw staring back at her in the mirror, especially not when she lifted her arm to peer at the bracelet. Such a weird day.

The table was full of men at dinner, with only Jo and Cindy adding some much-needed female companionship. Elvis and the other men laughed and chatted through the meal, arguing and guffawing over old stories; stories that always seemed to feature Elvis doing something insane, dangerous and/or reckless and somehow getting away with it. He grinned at her at every conclusion, looking pleased with himself and she tried her best to look impressed and amused.

Cindy understood what Elvis had meant when he instructed the cook to make her meal regular-sized. He and the rest of the men devoured prodigious amounts of food and it felt like dinner went on for hours waiting for them to finish.

As soon as she put down her knife and fork, Elvis reached over and clasped her hand with his, maintaining that hold even as he was eating and talking to everyone around her. It was like sitting with a spotlight on you, seen but unseen, valued but ignored.

After dinner, Elvis led her over to the piano. A couple of the guys, one of the large ones with all the guns, and a small one, picked up guitars and perched on a footstool and the sofa around him. He insisted, though there was barely enough room, that she sat next to him on the piano stool. She leant into his side, trying to maintain her balance.

“What d’you wanna hear us sing, Cindy honey?” he asked, like she would be fine with that, like she would casually accept Elvis Presley asking for requests.

“Lawdy Miss Clawdy?” she asked. It was one of two Elvis songs her father had played her religiously on a Saturday afternoon when they needed to jump around and use up some energy.

“Aw, that’s so damn old,” he remarked. “Can’t you think of nothing from this century?” He hiccupped a small laugh, which his guys echoed far louder, but she could sense that she had upset or offended him somehow. Probably by making him feel that only his old songs were the best, she guessed. She had hurt his feelings.

“You should sing what you want to sing,” she said quickly, rubbing his jiggling knee. “Anything you sing will blow me away.”

The smaller guy with the guitar suggested ‘Love is a Many Splendored Thing’, but before he had even finished his sentence, Elvis was pounding the keys of the piano in the very familiar introduction to ‘Lawdy Miss Clawdy’.

Everyone who had ever listened to an Elvis record always felt like he was singing directly to them. That was part of his magic and charm, but Cindy now knew that that feeling was nothing compared to knowing that he was singing directly to you. Her face was throbbing with heat as the blood rushed there. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, clasping them in her lap like she had to hold in her vital organs or she would die. He frowned over the piano as he sang, but every now and again, shot her a look from the side of his eye, his cheekbones round and prominent as he held back a smile.

As the last chords of the piano faded out, he cleared his throat, making fun of how much higher his voice used to be. Cindy clapped, ignoring the eyerolls and looks of derision that some of the men were throwing her. She had never been able to get to a concert. They usually sold out in hours and there was no way she could skip work to queue overnight and all day. So this was probably the closest she was ever going to get to seeing Elvis live, and she was making the most of it.

“Thank you, honey,” he mumbled, angling his face so that he could kiss her cheek. He grabbed her hand that was still clapping and brought it to his lips, giving her fingers a soft peck also.

Forgetting all the eyes, the uncomfortable shoes, the skimpy dress that made her shiver in the air conditioning, and the mask of make-up she was wearing, Cindy ducked forward and kissed him. She almost missed completely, catching only the corner of his mouth, but he rescued her for the second time that day, wrapping his arms around her, hot palms against her back and turning his head, sliding his tongue in to brush against hers. Maybe he was right, they could both save each other.