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vadertyrannus · 2 years

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Zendaya's MJ will definitely return in the second MCU Spider-Man Trilogy

Ever since the ending of Spider-Man: No Way Home, people have wondered whether MJ (played by Zendaya) will return in the next trilogy, and for those who know she will, whether she should.

I'm making this post to not only prove that yes, she will, but also debunk common arguments against her returning.

Foreshadowing in the movie

MJ's return is directly foreshadowed quite a few times in No Way Home.

"If you don’t, I’m just gonna figure it out. I’ve done it before, I can do it again."

MJ tells Peter she loves him. Then Peter is about to tell her he loves her too, but MJ interrupts him, telling him to wait until he sees her again. If this was the end of their arc, the writers wouldn't leave this thread open. You can't set up something and have no payoff.

The way MJ looks at and acts around Peter in the pastry shop scene. She has that same look in her eyes that she always has when she looks at Peter (probably a symptom of Zendaya loving Tom Holland in real life, but still). The way she smiles, brushes her hair, is nervous around him while at the same time open (being willing to talk about going to MIT) seems to indicate that MJ is naturally comfortable with him and maybe even has a crush on him.

And finally, right here, which is by far the most obvious example and the nail in the coffin.

The final shot of the scene is MJ having a lingering sense of recognition, and this is specifically pointed out in the script. Very, very blatant foreshadowing. So much so that I find it so weird that so many people seem to miss it.

It's as she said, "If you don't, I'm just gonna figure it out."

If this was her final scene, this scene would have much more finality. It wouldn’t end holding on MJ, but rather Peter leaving. This is basic cinematic language.

The final shot of a scene is always the most important, because it’s the last impression it leaves on you. And here, they chose to emphasize MJ recognizing Peter the most.

All of this is clear set up for MJ remembering Peter and the two eventually rekindling their relationship.

MJ is Peter's true love

The fact is, MJ needs to come back. It's inevitable. Expecting MJ to actually be gone is like expecting Spider-Man to have stayed dead after Infinity War.

It's very clear watching both Far From Home and No Way Home, both of which focus a lot on their relationship, that Michelle Jones is Peter Parker’s endgame love interest and an incredibly important character to this iteration of Spider-Man.

I plan on making a separate post later going into more detail, but it's important enough to shortly elaborate on here.

Peter and MJ are truly in love with each other and meant to be together. They’re perfect for one another, have amazing chemistry, love each other to no bounds, and support each other every step of the way.

Peter always puts MJ's well-being before his own, and MJ is so loyal she'll bring a mace to help Peter fight killer drones, and refuses to leave his side when facing 5 villains. And I mean she literally won't leave his side; like, she wants to be right there with him, even when it's that dangerous, because she's that brave and she cares about him that much.

Peter and MJ are alike and while also complimenting each other in all the right ways. MJ is as soft, sweet, caring, strong, intelligent and loyal as Peter. At the same time, MJ’s introverted, collected and pragmatic self compliments Peter’s more extroverted, energetic, and idealistic self perfectly, creating a symbiosis between them.

They bring out the best in each other. Because of Peter, MJ is able to come out of her shell and be vulnerable (her arc in Far From Home). And in the same way Peter supports and brings out the best in MJ, MJ encourages and supports Peter when he needs it to most by always being there for him, being level-headed and comforting in crisis situations.

Their kiss in No Way Home perfectly conveys the image of two true lovers, with the way their bodies create a heart shape and the contrast created by the sun in the background.

Peter and MJ are bound together.

Both Far From Home and No Way Home dedicate a lot to the Peter and MJ relationship, and during the promotion of both Far From Home and No Way Home, images of them were used constantly to advertise the movie, reinforcing that Peter and MJ are ultimately the heart and soul of those two movies.

And even though MJ didn't have much screen time in Homecoming, she was emphasized a lot in the promos and almost every scene with her foreshadows her relationship with Peter in some way. Zendaya's MJ is essential to MCU Spider-Man.

Her not returning would also be a disservice to her character. MJ is her own person with her own agency and desires. The MCU Spider-Man movies have been very consistent with portraying that. To just ditch MJ instead of giving her the ending she deserves, to be with the one she loves the most? To disregard what she made Peter promise to do? Terrible writing.

It's also a disservice to Peter's character. Spider-Man is supposed to end up happy. Peter should get to be with the one he loves the most.

Michelle Jones-Watson is the MCU version of Mary Jane Watson

Michelle Jones-Watson is a reimaging of Mary Jane Watson, and the definitive MJ of the MCU. They're not gonna bring in "the real MJ". Zendaya is the real MJ.

I really shouldn't have to go any further then pointing out that her name is literally MJ Watson. But I will.

Again this will be it's own post eventually, but it's still important enough to shortly talk about here.

This reimagining of MJ shares many core elements with her comic book counterpart.

Both are progressive rebellious characters, Mary Jane being a party girl (which in the 60s was considered progressive) while Michelle Jones is a liberal and activist who has unconventional interests (being interested in conspiracy theories and morbid topics).

They both have a troubled past (especially with their fathers).

Michelle's arc is basically the same as Mary Jane from the comics; dropping a façade she created to hide her vulnerable self, opening up her true caring self to Peter.

Both are their version of Peter’s perfect match.

They're both strong-willed and loyal, sticking with Peter no matter what.

There’s also been several easter eggs connecting Michelle to Mary Jane.

Michelle's birthday (revealed on her passport during FFH promo) is the same day the comic Mary Jane first appeared in was released.

In Far From Home, there’s a license plate on the bridge where Peter and Michelle kiss for the first time that reads “TASM 143”. This is a nod to the issue in which Peter kisses Mary Jane for the first time in the comics, The Amazing Spider-Man #143.

She wears two outfits with tigers on them in Far From Home (nod to Mary Jane's famous line).

Zendaya’s blatant “Face it, Tiger…” post while having red hair during the Far From Home press. And all the other times she's dyed her hair red for Spider-Man press, too (she did it again for NWH promo once).

MJ has always been Peter's true love in every Spider-Man iteration. It was true in the comics (before the current terrible writers ruined it). It was true in the Raimi trilogy. It was going to be true in the Webb films (Mary Jane was gonna be introduced in TASM 3). It was true in Into the Spider-Verse. And it's true here too.

MJ is to Spider-Man what Lois Lane is to Superman. You can't have one without the other.

Definitive statements from Executives

In the Deadline article regarding Jon Watts leaving Fantastic Four, on April 29, 2022, this statement was made.

Sony and its Spider-Man producers have made it clear they expect to reunite Watts with Holland and Zendaya to continue the series.

This was the statement that prompted The Direct's article (among others) in which this news spread and more people realized that Zendaya is likely coming back.

This was reinforced in another interview directly with Tom Rothman, head of Sony, less then a month later.

ROTHMAN: We hope to get working on the next Spider-Man movie. DEADLINE: With Jon Watts, Tom Holland and Zendaya returning? ROTHMAN: That whole group, we hope.

This confirms that the studio wants Zendaya to return. They've made up their mind, creatively. At this point, whether Zendaya returns or not is up to her.

It makes sense that the studio wants her back so bad. Zendaya not only has a ton of star power, but it also dating Tom Holland in real life. Her name is gonna get people in seats.

Statements from Actors

If Tom Holland is coming back for another trilogy, Zendaya's coming back too. Statements from Tom Holland also confirm that she was always gonna come back from the beginning.

Tom Holland stated in an interview with GQ on April 15, 2021 (a month after shooting No Way Home) he will not do another movie without Jon Watts, Jake Batalon, and Zendaya.

So he’d say yes? “Absolutely. One hundred per cent, yes.” Any renegotiation clauses? “We’d need to keep the same core team. The director, Jon Watts, is as much Spider-Man as I am. Zendaya, Jacob [Batalon].”

While he might be exaggerating when implying that he would outright refuse if they all also didn't come back, it emphasizes the importance to which he views the director and his co-stars role in the MCU Spider-Man series. Including Zendaya.

A month later, in an interview with Entertainment Weekly, he stated:

“We were all treating No Way Home as the end of a franchise, let's say. I think if we were lucky enough to dive into these characters again, you'd be seeing a very different version. It would no longer be the Homecoming trilogy. We would give it some time and try to build something different and tonally change the films."

Notice how he says these characters. Plural. Not just him, but also the other MCU Spider-Man characters, meaning MJ and Ned (I mean, it's not like it can mean anyone else).

These statements from Holland are pretty consistently pointing to the same narrative, that all three actors would return if they continued the series.

It's unlikely these statements were made to prevent spoilers. Not only because they align with what's been said after NWH's release, but also because they tried to build up suspense about whether MJ would die in trailers and TV spots and these statements wouldn't match up with that agenda. It's obvious that these statements were made without any studio influence.

This is also corroborated by this statement from Zendaya during the press tour:

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ZENDAYA: “Well, we have no idea what the future of us or this Spider-Man franchise is or will be […] if there’s a world where we continue and grow with the characters, that would be beautiful [...]" TOM: “Yeah you said that perfectly.”

They’re talking as a pair, as if returning would mean both of them.

I also think the body language and facial expressions of the two reveals a lot about their feelings on the matter.

It looks like the two know more then they're letting on.

You can hear and see Zendaya’s voice and eyes brighten up when she talks about returning. She has a very positive tone.

Tom looks directly at her as she’s talking about returning whereas most of the time he’s looking down at the ground.

Zendaya looks directly at Tom after saying that continuing the series and both of their characters would be beautiful. If she’s looking at her boyfriend, the person she loves most, directly in the eyes as she’s saying it then it’s probably true, that’s just basic psychology.

Another pretty telling quote also comes from Zendaya. After making the Time100 list for 2022, Zendaya in her interview stated about No Way Home:

“The perfect way to, maybe I don’t know end our trilogy, there’s people that are more in charge then I am so I don’t know what the future holds so I’m just saying.”

Notice how she pins the decision on the executives and not herself. As if she's already made up her mind. This was likely recorded before the executive's decision was made (or at least, before she was aware of it); they record these interviews well in advance.

The fact that she says "our trilogy" is also very telling. She clearly misspoke when she said trilogy, because whether they make a 4th movie or not it’d still be the end of the trilogy. Since she immediately started talking about how they might continue, as if correcting herself, she obviously meant to say series or franchise. It’s not just Tom’s Spider-Man series, it’s hers too.

Zendaya has repeatedly stated and shown that she loves doing the Spider-Man movies. Especially since, you know, the lead is her boyfriend. We don't even have to infer this, she literally said working with Tom is one of her favorite things about playing MJ. She even said she wanted a happy ending for Peter and MJ in this interview.

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I am certain that Zendaya will sign on for the next MCU Spider-Man trilogy once given the contract, if she hasn't already.

Statements from Leakers

A very reliable leaker known as Ember, who now runs a Twitter page called Cult of Ember (formally Culture Spider), has stated that Zendaya will definitively be returning, meaning that she has officially signed on.

Now, I don't want to put too much stock on leakers. IMO they should always be taken with some level of uncertainty. At the same time, Ember leaked costumes from No Way Home well in advanced (among other things). She's pretty reliable. She's also the one responsible for the leak that Tom Holland has signed a new 6 picture deal.

The leak about Zendaya signing on also seems to line up with the fact that she just finished filming Dune 2 at the time. Perfect timing to be signing a new contract.

Ember had been saying for awhile that the studio wants Zendaya to return, the exact same thing stated by Sony chairman Tom Rothman.

This was also corroborated by another leaker.

Whether you believe the leakers or not is up to you. I wouldn't take their word as gospel. But they are very consistent and it makes a lot of sense, especially considering all the other evidence.

Addressing arguments against her coming back

"It would undo the consequences of No Way Home"

And Avengers: Endgame undid the consequences of Infinity War (as well as Captain America: Civil War). Your point?

Ending their relationship like this would be a disservice to both of their characters. Neither of them deserve this ending. It's too severe. Peter and MJ have earned their happy ending. And you can have consequences as a result of all this while still having Peter and MJ together again, just like how Endgame did it.

There are plenty of consequences of No Way Home that will stick. The death of Aunt May is obviously permanent, as is the loss of all of the Stark Tech.

"It undoes Peter's choice"

Spider-Man 2's ending also undid Peter's choice at the end of Spider-Man (2002). The same choice Peter makes at the end of No Way Home. Your point?

The point of Spider-Man isn't that he always loses everything, the point of Spider-Man is that he's willing to sacrifice things and gets rewarded for it eventually. He always gets the happy ending.

The "I need to keep the one I love away to protect them" trope never sticks with superheroes. They deserve to be happy, and it's also patronizing and takes away agency from the woman.

Peter made a promise to MJ and he did a disservice to her not fulfilling it.

I find it so odd that the some fans are so willing to have Peter undo his choice to protect Mary Jane by leaving her out of his life in the Raimi trilogy, but want so badly for Peter to keep Michelle out of his life for the same reasons here.

I wonder if there's an underlying issue with some fans mindsets that would explain this...

"It's too soon"

The majority of the fanbase agrees she should come back but thinks she shouldn't come back until the 5th or 6th movie. I do respect this opinion as at least it acknowledges that she's obviously coming back, but at the same time, I can't say I agree entirely.

Like yeah, obviously they shouldn’t get back together within the first 20 minutes of the 4th movie, but at the end? Absolutely.

What other arc is Peter gonna have in the 4th movie other then learning to open up again? Making new friends and having a new girlfriend and putting them at risk is a shitty thing to do when you ditched the ones you had and didn't fulfill a promise you made to them to protect them.

I think it's pretty obvious that Peter's arc is gonna be opening up again, and he's gonna tell MJ the truth at the end of the 4th film.

The longer Peter waits to tell MJ the truth, the harder the relationship would be to repair and the more upset MJ would be at him waiting so long. To me, at least, it seems like something that would be way smarter to resolve sooner rather then later.

Either that, or MJ's gonna figure it out herself and she's gonna be like a detective throughout the movie. Still, though, I think she deserves the truth from Peter.

"You're just a delusional Spideychelle/Tomdaya shipper"

Congratulations, you not only didn't address any of my evidence or points, but you also devolved into ad hominem, the worst thing you can do in any argument.

You just admitted defeat. Thanks for letting me win so easily!

I'm not sure if you're aware but insulting me personally doesn't suddenly make all of the proof disappear. Sorry :)

So there it is, definitive proof that MJ's coming back. If you read the entire thing, congratulations and thank you for reading. And MCU Peter and MJ FTW!

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bibylers · 10 months

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So far I’ve been a byler fan for almost 2 years ever since s4 came out, and I just got this thought in my mind, which byler scene / theory made me believe that byler will be endgame?

When it hit me which scene / theory it was, I went back to watch the scene again and rethink the theory and oh MY GOD.

So.. I decided to explain this theory for my first post on tumblr!

So this theory / parallel is about Byler (obviosuly) and Lumax! (My fav ships :D)

Lets start off in s2!

So here we have the probably first Lumax scene which is thought as romantic and not just friendly.

They’re on an old bus, waiting for the demo dogs to come. Max apologises to Lucas about how she can be rude or ignorant sometimes (like her brother, billy) but makes it super clear that she never ever wants to be like him EVER.

During the end of the conversation they have a short moment of looking into each others eyes in silence but then get interrupted by the demo dogs.

Sound familiar?

Well- if not let me show you.

Here in s4 we have an intimate scene with Mike and Will. (It’s literally written in the script)

They’re in Will’s room waiting for Argyle to show up. Mike apologises to Will about how he’s been very rude and ignorant towards him ever since he came to California.

After the conversation they have a short moment of just looking into each other’s eyes until they get interrupted by Argyle arriving.

So now let’s do a little end compilation!

• Lumax and Byler were both waiting for someone or somethings to show up while having their intimate moments.

• Lumax and Byler both got interrupted by the things they were waiting for

• Lumax and Byler both have the same way to start the conversation (aka by one of them apologising for something)

And there’s still one more thing which I haven’t brought up, which literally makes this a canon parallel.

The background music for both scenes is the SAME EXACT SONG. Im sorry but there is NO WAY this was “just a coincidence”.

+ They could’ve paralleled byler with ANY other scene, for example a Dustin and Lucas scene, or a Elmax scene.

But, instead of that they decided to parallel it with a literally CANON COUPLE.

Anyway- LUMAX & BYLER ENDGAME 🗣️🗣️🗣️

#stranger things #byler #byler theories #byler endgame #byler is canon #byler tumblr #stranger things theory #byler is real

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atiredfangirl · 5 months

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Why do you dislike Bucktommy and Tommy so much? Is it due to his last behaviour, or better yet, that he didn't stick up for Chim and Hen and was, therefore compliant? If this is the case, aren't they showing that he has changed by showing that he is now cool with Hen and Chim? I'm asking as a black queer person.

Or is it because they've become quite popular in a matter of weeks? If so shouldn't people be allowed to ship, write and enjoy what they want?

Also, isn't it hypocritical of you to ship Buddie when the actor who plays Eddie has expressed some awful racist and homophobic views and things?

Since I had never posted about Tommy on this app before today, I am assuming you found me on Twitter and came here to ask this anonymously, but if you follow my Twitter, you can see that I did not hate Tommy or Bucktommy to begin with.

Yes, I was hesitant when they brought him back because of his history with Chimney and Hen, but I was not one of the fans that “hated” him. I was willing to give the character another chance. But I also haven’t forgotten if “honestly if I thought about you at all, I probably wouldn’t” or how he was compliant with what went down at the 118 before Bobby arrived.

But I was willing to forgive that because he seemed to have changed a lot! When 7x04 aired, I retweeted several tweets supporting them because even if I am a Buddie shipper, I can respect that this is a big deal for Buck and I’m really and truly a Buck stan at heart. Literally just want the man to be happy.

Then 7x05 aired, and after seeing how nervous Buck was, he still made that stupid little closet joke in front of Eddie, knowing damn well Buck wasn’t out to Eddie. That wasn’t okay with me (also as a Queer woman), and then he leaves Buck alone on the sidewalk, doesn’t even tell him until the Uber is there that he called one for himself.

And now I’m watching the sneak peeks for 7x06 and he’s put zero effort into dressing up for the party (being on call is a weak excuse - it’s not like he’s going up in the helicopter in jeans and a Henley - he’s gonna have to change either way) and even the Henley comment felt condescending and rude.

I’m not delusional, I’m well aware Buddie may never happen, but either way, there’s no way the writers are writing bucktommy as endgame either, so it’s not like it’s coming from a place of fearing he’s a threat to Buddie. I just don’t like him for Buck. It’s not new or personal - I’ve had reasons to dislike literally all of buck’s love interests. I just wasn’t particularly active on social media about this show before this season, even though I’ve been watching it since it began.

As for Ryan, I don’t associate the actor with the character. I learned a long time ago that if you want to enjoy fandoms and ships, it’s very important to separate characters from actors.

#buddie #911 abc

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dragonfly0808 · 2 years

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Some of my Top Ships for Valentine’s Day!

This was supposed to be like 5 ships but shit got a little bit out of hand…

In no particular order:

Helia x Flora (Winx Club): they were my first OTP, it’s a classic, we know it, we love it, they invented the word adorkable. They are just… chef’s kiss

Callum x Rayla (the Dragon Prince): they are… my everything. From their very first interaction I was like… oh. They just balance each other out so well and it’s so much fun to watch them fall in love and grow together even if there have been a few… bumps in the road recently… they are my babies.

Runaan x Ethari (the Dragon Prince): WHERE IS MY SPIN OFF?! I NEED TO SEE HOW THESE TWO FELL IN LOVE! They just… the second Ethari was introduced these two had my heart and I just… I can’t even describe what it is about them that just gets me right there.

Lizzie x Daring (Ever After High): I said what I said. No regrets. Should’ve been endgame. You don’t get it, they get to be their real selfs when they’re with each other! The fucking potential! We only got 5 min in the webisodes and like a few dialogues in the books but they will forever live rent free in my brain.

Zuko x Katara (Avatar): …was this one predictable? I feel like this one was predictable, it just made so much sense with their respective characters, story lines and everything about them was just set up so perfectly but just never paid off. But yeah… these two were PERFECTION, up until they didn’t end up together somehow.

Percy x Annabeth (Percy Jackson): Come on, this is THE ship. I apologize in advance for the person I will become when the show comes out cause I’ll only be talking about them for a very long time.

Luka x Marinette (Miraculous Ladybug): You don’t understand how much I mean it when I say that I will go down with this ship. Luka is just… the cutest? And like… Marinette? Being supported? Being loved? Getting to have someone on her side that doesn’t feel like she owes them anything? Is this a potential OTP? Yes, yes it is.

Inej x Kaz (Six of Crows): I don’t think I have to say anything here. These two are just… wow. They would both kill for each other and… I love that it’s not an ‘I can fix them’ relationship, it’s a ‘I will change and be better for them’ relationship and I just…they are the pinnacle of romance.

Raven x Beast Boy (Teen Titans/Comics): Come on… do I have to say anything else? These two were made for each other! They understand each other in a way that almost no one else can, they both have dark sides that could take them over but they fight it, be it in different ways. And I just… they deserved so much more.

Mateo x Rufus (They Both Die at the End): If you haven’t read this book… it’s one of my faves but you shouldn’t read it unless you’re in a somewhat stable mental place ajajjajajja. But these two were just… ugh. I usually despise insta-love with every inch of my being but it worked so well for these two I just- AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH

Sophie x Gideon (Shadowhunters: Infernal Devices): These two I feel like are underrated in the fandom. Like, come on! In my personal opinion, they have the best love story in Shadowhunters. I’ve loved them since I was 9 and they are just so… they are just so good with each other? I love them. Every single moment of their relationship slaps.

Ron x Hermione (Harry Potter): They invented hesitant friends to friends to best friends to lovers. And they were done so wrong in the movies. Can anyone recommend me fics with them as the central focus? The Harry Potter part of AO3 is a fucking mess and I’ve found like two and I need more!

Luz x Amity / Hunter x Willow / Eda x Raine (The Owl House): How the fuck did a single show give me 3 new OTP’s? I’ve got no fucking idea but somehow they did it. I adore this show, I cannot wait for the finale. All the love stories are just… top tier just… wow. Lumity are the perfect enemies to lovers arc, Huntlow are just… so cute and perfect and of course we have Eda and Raine who are just iconic and IF I DON’T GET A KISS I AM GOING TO-

Wednesday x Tyler (Wednesday): COME AT ME BRO (please don’t), I love when people say they shouldn’t be together cause *SPOILERS* like… this is Wednesday Adams we’re talking about, if anything it makes it better! I love this ship. Their dynamic is just superior to me. Crazy x different kind of crazy? Perfection.

Charles Xavier x Erik (X-men): X-MEN WERE FUCKING COWARDS. That’s all I’ll say about that. I deserved so much better.

Rarity x Apple Jack (Equestria Girls): My fave sapphics, they were girlfriends. Farm girl x fashionista? Fucking genius. The aesthetics and dynamics are just perfect. The heavens open up and you can hear the choir when there’s a plot line revolving around their… ‘friendship’.

Nam-ra x Su-hyeok (All of us are dead): They are just… so fucking precious? He runs towards zombies to protect her and they are both crushing on each other from a distance, trying not to be obvious and it is so cute and so precious and just… I can’t wait for s2.

Stiles x Lydia (Teen Wolf): I’m not watching the movie. I refuse to. These two had 14 year old me in a choke hold.

Barry x Caitlin (The Flash): yes, I’m that person. Seasons 1-4 I still held on to hope. I love these two, just two nerds supporting each other and being THE team. This was truly so much potential.

Sarah x Leonard (Legends of Tomorrow): *sobs* they were just… so unexpected but they also made so much sense?

Hiccup x Astrid (How to Train Your Dragon): They were my obsession for a good while, Race to the Edge gave me way too much serotonin. I cried violently watching the last movie I just- they were so good. Their whole character development in Race to the Edge? Absolute fucking hold.

Winter x Jacin (The Lunar Chronicles): These two are just… childhood best friends to lovers, I’d kill and die for you, we know we love each other but we’ll never admit it and just be teaseful and then when they finally kiss it’s just so intense I was fucking fainting. I love them.

Dominick x Erika (Barbie, The Princess and the Pauper): They invented romance and they are the only insta-love love story that I will accept.

Robin x Regina (Once Upon a Time): I will die angry. Srly, they were just… perfect for each other? The definition of true love and they understood each other, Robin was so good for her and he believed so much in her and they loved each other in such a pure way and just… also they were just hot as fuck together I mean, they had me questioning my sexuality.

Starfire x Robin/Nightwing (Teen Titans/DC Comics/DC Movies): I don’t even know how to describe the amount of serotonin these two give me, they just make sense to me and I love them.

Kid Flash x Jinx (Teen Titans): They had 1 episode and they made history.

Artemis x Kid Flash (Young Justice): …I’m still waiting… fuck me… THEY WERE JUST SO FUCKING GOOD AAAAAAAHHHHHH- The way they annoyed each other but slowly grew to trust each other and then became friends and you can’t even pin point the exact moment they start falling in love because it just happens so naturally and so organically and it’s just- AAAAAHHHHHHHH

Impulse x Blue Beetle (Young Justice): Bart is in love with Jaimie and he is not subtle about it at all. Jaimie is a bit oblivious but you know that he is just as much in love if not even more

Jonathan x Nancy (Stranger Things): I swear yall’ if they really redo the triangle next season, I’m going to riot cause these two, their story is so well done in the first 3 seasons and it’s just like… what the fuck ya know?

Mike x Eleven (Stranger Things): I don’t care what anyone says, I still love them.

Lucas x Max (Stranger Things): …ow? I honestly don’t know what else to say.

Ben x Evie/Harry x Uma (Descendants): YOU KNOW I’M RIGHT, DID YOU WATCH CHILLIN LIKE A VILLAIN/WHAT’S MY NAME?! THE CHEMISTRY WAS LITERALLY DRIPPING OFF OF THEM. HE WAS SO HAPPY EVERYTIME HE SAW HER AND THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN GOLD TOGETHER.

Lucas x Maya (Girl Meets World): I am so tired… these two were just… so good together, the chemistry, the story line, Maya accepting the ‘bad’ side of Lucas in a way that Riley never did and him just being there for her no matter what ‘I could never hurt you’ I just… why?

Veronica x JD (Heathers the Musical): Listen… hear me out… I know that he was kinda crazy but… they were kind of an iconic duo okay? Freeze Your Brain? Dead Girl Walking? Our Love Is God? Seventeen? Meant to Be Yours? I Am Damaged? Sorry was I… not supposed to ship them after listening to those? I love them. I’m allowed to have at least one kinda-toxic-if-you-think-about-it-ship.

Juliette x Warner (Shatter Me): They created sexual tension. Every single scene slaps and their arc is just perfect and I love them and they are just… they are so intense but in the best way possible.

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lizzie-is-here · 2 years

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like the dawn

part xix- the endgame

“just because you are soft doesn’t mean you are not a force. honey and wildfire are both the color gold.” - victoria erickson

summary: you’re in the endgame now, and you’re making it out alive. even if you have to take on an army.

wordcount: 4.2k

warnings: violence, cussing, angst, endgame events, um idk what else

taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll @moonlightreader649 @saranghaey @almosttoopizza @itsprashimusic @yourfavunsub

a/n: one more part left! i’ve really enjoyed writing this series and i’m very sad to see it end, but i’m excited to see what’s next. hope you all enjoy, and i love u so much 🫶

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When everyone arrives back on the platform and safely in 2023, you’re more than excited.

You haven’t been so close to your boys in five years. But now there’s a glowing cube in your hand that you haven’t seen since the 40s and everyone’s here-

“Where’s Natasha?” you ask, watching Clint fall to his knees.

He says nothing, staring into the ground.

And that’s answer enough.

———————————————————————

The funeral is the next day. Just you, Tony, Thor, Bruce, and Clint.

Tony is just more determined to bring everyone back. Thor’s convinced you can bring her back. Bruce is… angry in a way that’s more human than Hulk.

Barton is heartbroken.

The grief rolls away from him in waves, and it’s impossible to ignore.

After the service at the compound lake, you head back to your old room, sitting down and staring at the blank walls.

A knock comes from the door.

The archer himself, still in the outfit from the funeral and tear stains still streaking down his face.

He sits next to you, looking around the room. The bed that’s larger than needed, the three pillows. The way you keep glancing at the walls for pictures that don’t hang there anymore.

Or maybe you’re looking around for people. For ghosts.

“How do you do it?” he asks. Live with the ghosts, he means.

“You’ve been doing it, too.”

Clint knows you’re right. He lost his entire family, and now his best friend. But he had Nat for those five years, and even then he went berserk.

He killed with no morals, just crude vigilantism for five long years. All over the world, he left dead bodies and power vacuums waiting to be filled by the next person corrupt enough to take on the role. He was a plague, sweeping through gangs and mobs and cutting them off at the knees with bloody tactics better left in foggy memory.

You hid in a cabin in Romania and adopted chickens.

And you were completely alone.

You shrug, mouth opening and closing a few times as you struggle for the words.

Swallowing, you take a deep breath. “I don’t. The pain hasn’t gone away.” He nods. “I think of them every second, every day. Even if I don’t want to admit it.”

“Do you know I dream of them?”

Clint pauses. “What do you mean?”

“Of our life before the war. Sometimes it’s memories, sometimes it’s all made up.” You chuckle a bit. “I dreamt that we were back- back then, one time. And I woke up convinced I was back in that little apartment.”

He can’t relate. Clint wishes he could have dreamt of his family, but he never saw them other than in pictures.

“I think those dreams were worse than the nightmares,” you finally say.

The hole Natasha Romanoff is leaving proves to be bigger than can ever be filled. For now, it feels bottomless. But one day, the hole won’t be so deep. Until then, you have to keep your head above water, even if you’re barely treading.

The two of you sit in silence, waiting for something that doesn’t come.

———————————————————————

“All right, the glove’s ready.”

Tony and Rocket carefully lift the new gauntlet. It’s Stark tech, hot-rod red as usual.

“Question is, who’s gonna snap their freakin’ fingers?” the raccoon asks. You go to speak, but Thor beats you to it.

“I’ll do it,” he says, hands shaking. In one hand, he’s clinging to Mjolnir, retrieved from the past. You’ve never touched the weapon. Ever since you learned how the hammer works, you’ve avoided it. You don’t need Asgardian magic to remind you of your crimes.

Despite Thor’s gumption, it’s clear to everyone that he’s in no state to even be awake, much less wielding the most powerful things in the universe.

“It’s okay.”

He hurries towards the glove, but you and Tony stop him before he can snatch it up.

“Thor, just wait,” you say. “We haven’t decided who’s gonna put the glove on yet.” The god laughs.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What, we’re all just sitting around and waiting for the right opportunity?”

“We should at least discuss it,” Scott agrees. Thor doesn’t relent, growing desperate as he rambles.

“I’m the strongest Avenger, okay?” he says. “So, this responsibility falls upon me. It’s my duty.”

When Tony steps in to talk him down, you turn your gaze back to the gauntlet. Just like in Wakanda, power flows off of it in waves. Without a wielder, however, its power is more of an ambient thrum than an overwhelming force.

If anyone else snaps, they’d be left with permanent damage. It could kill someone. Another friend, gone. Just like that.

The gauntlet is in your hands faster than you can blink.

“(Y/N)?” Tony’s voice is muffled.

You know that your healing would save you from any injuries.

You could bring everyone back.

Your boys.

“What are you talking about?” Scott asks. You didn’t even realize you were talking out loud.

Tony carefully grabs the gauntlet. “(Y/N), put the glove down.”

And you snap out of it, letting him take the stones away. Your fingertips pulse with power.

“I would survive,” you mutter. “I’d heal faster than I’d die.”

“Healing isn’t gonna do much for you,” Bruce says before nodding to Thor. “And neither will lightning. It’s gotta be me.”

“You saw what those stones did to Thanos. They almost killed him,” he continues. “The radiation coming off the stones is mostly gamma, though. It’s like… I was made for this.”

Everyone glances at each other. He makes a good point. Finally, Tony sighs and relents.

With everyone in place, Bruce picks up the gauntlet.

“Good to go, yeah?” Tony asks. When Bruce nods, the genius finalizes the plan. “Remember, everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, you’re just bringing them back to now, today. Don’t change anything from the last five years.”

“Got it.”

The room begins to go on lockdown, and you summon a shield of light in one hand, while readying your healing with the other.

“Everyone comes home.”

The glove expands to fit Bruce’s hand, and as soon as it’s locked on, that endless power returns. The doctor screams in pain, falling to one knee as his skin starts singeing under the heat.

“Take it off! Take it off!” Thor shouts, but you hold a hand out.

“Bruce, are you okay?” you ask. Eventually, he nods, lifting his hand.

And he snaps.

…then immediately collapses on the floor.

You start healing his arm as soon as possible, struggling to contain the damage. There are so many burnt nerves, so many blisters.

It takes a few minutes, and even then he’s still passed out.

You stand up as the team hovers around him, watching the doors open again. Your heart feels lighter.

Clint’s phone starts ringing, and everything starts to feel right again. From the windows, Scott pipes up.

“Guys… I think it worked.”

You smile, before the hairs on your neck rise.

A quick glance up is all you need to spot Thanos’s ship, giant and covering the compound.

You barely manage to throw a shield over yourself when the missile hits. When the rubble stops, you’re the only one atop the ruined building.

Flinging a hand to your earpiece, you take a shaky gasp. “Guys? Anyone, please. Are you all okay?”

All you get in response is vague screaming, so you huff, shake out your hands, and get ready for the fight of your life.

From your hiding spot, you watch Nebula, definitely not your Nebula, head towards a returned Thanos. Whatever happened on her excursion to the past, it brought them here.

The Mad Titan sits, sword planted in the ground, and waits.

Rage boils under your skin as you watch him. He’s nonchalant, calm, and confident. Maybe he’s not the same Thanos, but he took the loves of your life. You want nothing more than to kill him again.

However, as far as your rage will carry you, you know you’ll need help.

You take your place on a hill, shortly followed by Tony and Thor.

“What’s he been doing?” the former asks.

Thor shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing.”

“And the stones?” you ask. Tony points to the ground.

“Somewhere under all this. All I know is he doesn’t have ‘em.”

When you suggest fighting him, the god of Thunder sighs again. “You know it’s a trap, right?”

“Yeah. I just don’t care all that much.”

“Good. As long as we’re all in agreement.”

Thunder crackles as the clouds begin to spiral and Thor reaches out each hand. With the lightning come Mjolnir and Stormbreaker, flying into his hands. He doesn’t even flinch as the electricity dances across his body.

“Let’s kill him properly this time.”

The three of you descend, slowly approaching Thanos.

“You could not live with your own failure. Where did that bring you?” He nods, smirking. “Back to me.”

“I thought by eliminating half of life, the other half would thrive. But you’ve shown me that that’s impossible. As long as there are those who remember what was, there will always be those that are unable to accept what can be. They will resist.”

“We certainly will,” you say.

“I’m thankful. Because now I know what I must do. I will shred this universe down to its last atom. And then, with the stones you’ve collected for me… create a new one, teeming with life, that knows not of what it has lost but only what it has been given.” He grabs his sword. “A grateful universe.”

You shrug your bow into your hands. “Born out of blood.”

“They’ll never know it. Because you won’t be alive to tell them.”

You, Tony, and Thor all strike at once. Flashes of electricity, light, and repulsors flicker in time to clangs of metal.

Even if Thanos is huge, the three of you are nimble. You dart and weave around his blade, firing at weak spots as the other two sink everything into their strikes.

Thor charges up Tony, who attacks and in turn gives you an opening. But then Tony’s knocked out and tossed to the rubble. The god rushes in to help, but gets pinned and Thanos starts sinking Thor’s own axe into his chest.

You have to hold the line.

Tossing the bow to the side, you charge the titan. A flash of light in his eyes distracts him, and something pulls your hand.

An instinct? No, that’s not the right word. The action isn’t familiar, or a usual response.

It’s an intuition.

The unfamiliar tug extends your palm, and something comes flying to your outstretched hand. Closer, closer, until you don’t have to look over to know what lands in your grip.

Mjolnir.

The hammer crackles to life and you feel like you’ve just been injected with pure caffeine. It’s a high like no other. Absolutely euphoric.

In the reflection of the weapon, you can see your eyes glowing in gold and blue.

The rest of the universe falls away. It feels selfish to admit, but you don’t give a damn right now about what happens to the rest of the galaxies. You’re doing this for Earth. For your friends.

For Natasha. For Wanda, and Sam, and T’Challa. For Steven Grant Rogers and James Bucky Barnes.

You fly up, watching Thanos ready his sword. Your powers combined with Thor’s are too much to even contain, and residual energy starts escaping your hands and seeping into the hammer.

You bring down Mjolnir on Thanos with such force that it knocks his sword from his hands and drives him into the dirt.

With a twirl of the wrist, you strike him across the jaw, flipping away as he jumps up.

It’s a careful dance as you fight the man destined on destroying this entire universe. Not just you, not just the Avengers. Everyone. And you’re standing between him and his goal.

Gold light and light blue electricity dance around your body as you move, radiating from you like a deadly whirlwind.

With a flying blow that knocks him onto his back again, you set a foot on his chest.

“I killed you once. I dragged it out that time.” You shoot a pulse of electricity through your planted foot that you can feel shock his nerves. “That was before I had five years to think about it. Alone,” you snap.

“I won’t take so long this time.” When you flash a smirk, you think you can see a bit of fear in his eyes.

One hand flies down to Thanos’s forehead and you unleash the pent-up energy.

His head starts overheating and he screams, clawing at your hand. It doesn’t do much, seeing as every time his fingers touch you, lighting burns his hands. But then he manages to grab his sword and slam it against you, sending you flying back.

Your wings take the brunt of the landing, but you stand anyway. It’s not like you have any other option.

Now that Thanos has his sword again, you’re on even footing. Blows are parried and your hands are lightning-quick, literally and figuratively.

But you’re human beneath everything.

And you’re tiring.

He sneaks in a blow that cuts your arm and lays you out in the dirt yards away, Mjolnir flying from your hands as you cough.

You gasp for air as he slowly stalks toward you. Fighting to get up proves harder than ever.

So instead, you roll onto your side, healing the gushing wound.

“In all my years of conquest, violence, slaughter… it was never personal.”

You lift your head to glare at the titan.

“But I’ll tell you now, what I’m about to do to your stubborn, annoying little planet? I’m gonna enjoy it very, very much.”

Behind him, an army descends from his ships. Thousands of soldiers.

Tony isn’t getting up. Neither is Thor. For all you know, the rest of the team is dead under your feet.

You rise, reaching your freshly-healed arm down to your side and feeling the familiar thrum of your powers.

You extend your wings to their full reach, casting a soft shadow behind you. For once, you appreciate their darkness.

The neverending enemy in front of you is an omen of death.

But so are you.

For once, the Angel of Death doesn’t seem like such a horrible title.

You only hope your boys will be okay when you’re gone.

With a long-suffering sigh, you slowly start your way towards the enemy line, when the silent comm in your ear crackles to life.

“I thought you knew better than to do anything stupid until we got back?”

When you whip your head back to where a soft glow is growing, that adrenaline rush is back all over again.

The first to emerge from the portal are T’Challa, Shuri, and Okoye. The king nods to you, and you can spot the full Wakandan army behind them.

Sam flies out as dozens more portals emerge, dotting the sky.

Dr. Strange, the family of Rocket. Peter’s with them, smiling as if he’d never died.

You watch in awe. Some of the people emerging from the rings, you don’t even recognize. But you’re all here for the same reason. You held the line.

And then you see them.

Up until that point, you’d stayed calm. You’re tired, bruised, and relieved beyond imagination.

But as soon as you make eye contact with Steve and Bucky you’re running towards them.

When you finally reach them, they catch you with open arms.

“Welcome back,” you whisper, clinging on and never intending on letting go. You pull away anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Steve asks. Bucky agrees, still holding your hand.

You laugh, tears spilling over. “What for? Your back!”

“We’re sorry you had to be alone,” Bucky presses. Nodding, you turn back to the army that you quite honestly forgot was there.

“All that matters now is that you’re here,” you conclude, reaching out a hand. That same tug, and Mjolnir returns just like before.

You gesture to Steve, who’s gaping at the weapon in your grasp.

“Go on. You do it better anyways.”

He nods, shouting over the noises of both sides.

“Avengers…”

“…assemble.”

Everyone surges forward at once, the two sides colliding in a mess of yelling and blasts. You spot Tony and Pepper in complimentary suits, destroying Thanos’s smaller ships.

Thor takes out waves of aliens with lightning strikes, and the Dora Milaje take down enemies with strategic precision.

You join the god, catching his ax when it comes towards you instead of the hammer.

He frowns. “No, no, give me that. You have the little one.” You oblige, swapping weapons and taking to the sky as lightning trails behind you.

A Leviathan veers in your direction, sharp teeth glinting as you speed up. You toss Mjolnir down its throat, conjuring lightning that explodes the whole creature from the inside.

You reach out for the hammer to return to your hand, but just as it reaches you, it flies away.

“Dammit, I was using that, Thor,” you mutter, watching it sail to his hand.

You summon an arrow, tossing it into the fray and manipulating it from the ground. It cuts through the air faster than energy blasts, and you send it straight through a larger ship that crashes to the ground.

“You need to keep up with this, it’s vintage.” You whirl around to see Steve holding up your bow. He smiles. “C’mon, I’m more of a shield guy, myself.”

You roll your eyes, smirking and taking it.

“We’re vintage, Stevie. Where is Buck, anyway?”

The blond points a bit away, where your other lover is furiously struggling to tie his hair up in a half-bun.

“Cap!” Clint shouts over comms. “What do you want me to do with this damn thing?” The glove.

You block an alien charging you two, holding it off as Steve responds.

“Get those stones as far away as possible!”

You fire a blast down its throat as Bruce yells from nearby.

“No! We need to get ‘em back where they came from,” he says.

You grunt, shoving more enemies back. “We can’t do that. Thanos destroyed the machine.”

“Hold on!” Scott towers above the battlefield, but shrinks down as soon as he talks. “That wasn’t our only time machine.”

A distant melody plays.

You press your earpiece. “Anyone see an ugly brown van out here?”

An unfamiliar voice responds. “Yes, but you’re not gonna like where it’s parked!”

Scott and Tony start talking, hashing out a plan to reactivate the tunnel. Meanwhile, you hurry towards Bucky.

He ducks long enough for you to shoot an arrow at a hoverbike flying at you both.

“You’re bleeding,” you scold. He willingly offers up his flesh arm, letting you mend the skin with ease.

“You look the same,” he whispers. You glance up in confusion. “Everyone else looks older. Stark. Barton.”

In the midst of the battlefield, he kisses your forehead.

“You haven’t changed one bit.”

You shrug. “Well, at least that serum’s worth something.”

Across the field, you see a red glow. Thanos rises in the air by Wanda’s magic, and he starts screaming in pain almost immediately.

He shouts out, and you can see the main ship above readying its guns.

“Steve!” you yell, beckoning the blond over. You throw up a shield just as fire rains down on both sides, explosions racking the ground.

Suddenly, the guns turn to the sky.

A beam of lights shoots through the main ship, exploding the inside.

A saving grace.

“Danvers,” you pant into the comm. “Welcome back.”

“Good to be back, Agent.”

Steve and Bucky both raise an eyebrow.

“‘Agent’?” the former teases. You push him, running to where Carol landed.

You gently help Peter to his feet as he passes the gauntlet off to the veteran, healing his scratches.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get through all of that.” He winces as you heal his nose.

“Don’t worry,” Wanda says as she lands beside him. On a winged horse, a woman descends as well.

“She’s got help,” Okoye finishes. Along comes Pepper, Hope, and Shuri. You grin and turn back to the teen.

“Stay safe, okay? You’ve done a great job, now let us finish this up,” you tell him as he nods. “Steve and Buck are over there, keep an eye on them for me?”

He dutifully runs off and you tap your earpiece to speak just to your boys.

“I sent Peter over to you two. Keep an eye on him, please.”

They respond in the affirmative, and you return your focus on the task at hand.

As the group charges forward at the titan, you all attack at once. You and Wanda sling twin blasts, gold and scarlet colliding against the enemy line before Gamora and Okoye go in with a sword and spear.

The valkyrie slices down the side of a leviathan as Carol blasts through the explosions. She collided with Thanos, and the resulting explosion rocks the ground.

The gauntlet is on the ground. Tony and Thanos both run for it, and when the genius is tossed to the side, Thor takes his place. Even the god is shrugged off.

Steve and Bucky are beside you in an instant. The shield, the gun, the bow.

Just like before.

You don’t have to speak to move in tandem.

Steve tosses the shield and you blast it forward. Bucky throws a knife that you retrieve. Steve distracts Thanos long enough for Bucky to kick the gauntlet further away.

It’s a triad of blows, and you manage to fight the titan to a standstill for a while.

But the moment you slip up, he takes the advantage again. Bucky is tossed at least 20 feet, and Steve is punted into the ground and punched in the face.

With a swing of the arm, you push the titan back before shooting out a hand.

Alien anatomy may be strange, but it’s not hard to locate a knee.

You focus your powers on the bone, and you pull.

The bone pops out of the socket with a sickening pop, and Thanos screams. Before you can give the other knee the same treatment, he grabs one of your wings and throws you.

You shout out as you hit the ground, rolling to a stop a few feet away. Cussing and groaning under your breath, you try to blink away the tears.

As you lay on the ground, you fire random bursts of light in hope to keep the gauntlet away from Thanos.

Tony takes over when you can’t anymore. You watch the man, more human than any of the rest of you, wrestle with the titan. He gets flung away, but you see him cradling something in his hands.

Thanos raises his arm, but you can see the back of his hand. The stones are missing.

“I am inevitable,” he hisses.

When he snaps, all that comes is an empty clang.

Tony sits up, and the Infinity Stones take their places on his hand in a gauntlet of his own.

“And I…” he pauses to gasp for breath. “…Am Iron Man.”

All around you, Thanos’s army starts dissolving to dust, just as half of the universe did five years ago. The titan sits down, but your focus is on the billionaire.

He stumbles towards you and you guide him to a nearby rock. Tony sits down, or rather, collapses on the ground as you kneel beside him.

You’re tired, but you push through the fatigue.

“What’re you doing, kid?” he whispers. If not for your enhanced hearing, you wouldn’t have been able to make out the words.

“You saved me.” You wince as your wing, still broken, twinges. “So I’m saving you.”

The damage on his right arm is too much. You can heal the worst of the injuries, but the damage in the arm is too great to save. And he’s too human.

The burns on his face are healing, and his pulse is weak, but you’re confident that it’s not stopping any time soon.

“Tony? Oh, thank fuck.” Rhodey, Pepper, and Peter come running as you step away, stumbling slightly.

You turn around to meet the gaze of Steve and Bucky. It’s a sigh of relief every time you see them. They both pull you into a hug, pausing when you wince.

“Are you hurt?” the former asks.

You nod, head resting against this chest. “Big purple bitch broke my wing.” It's fully healed by now, but the soreness will last.

The brunet chuckles, carefully running a hand up and down your back.

“You poor thing,” he chides.

You shrug. “I’ll be alright. Plus, I’m going to be using it to get breakfast in bed for at least two weeks.”

“You were alone for so long,” Steve says, tone growing serious before he laughs. “I think breakfast in bed is guaranteed for the next two months.”

You both slyly glance at Bucky, who’s still fussing over your non-injured wing.

“I’ll make as many pancakes as you two want,” he says.

Thor and Rhodey help Tony limp to a jet, and the rest of the massive army disperses in kind. Peter waves to you three from the quinjet.

“Come on! We’re gonna head to the tower.”

You and your boys link pinkies, and head towards the jet.

Hand in hand, heading home.

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the-martyrfication-of-the-matron · 10 months

Text

Okay so my general mru timetravel saga phase thing. + how I’m doing the YA.

Since I think focusing on timetravel instead of the multiverse would have been a better next saga since timetravel was set up formerly.

Also, champions and Runaways will likely feature but I need to defamiliarise myself with the comics to feel more comfortable deciding on HOW. But I’ll get to it, just not in this post.

(Ramble below the cut)

First Phase:

I would make the first phase AFTER endgame extremely chill. More grounded, focus on a smaller group of heroes and the affects of the snap. TFATWS would be my preferred first project but obviously could change when I go to write it. Maybe seven projects in all? Keep it small. Six main solo projects, an avengers team up. I want to make it clear that things aren’t running as smoothly as they could be post-Thanos, there’s a lot of tension, the team isn’t quite… teaming.

Steve shows up as cameos in TFATWS and the avengers teamup, but not to take away from the focus of Sam being the new Cap. He’s more of an… advisor. He has experience, but that’s all he’s got to offer. He’s done with the fight. I don’t think he should’ve died in endgame personally bc I think people need a main avengers to continue showing up to really keep their investment until another character proves worthy enough for focus.

Eli is the first Young Avenger to be included, which would make a whole ‘oooo Young avengers maybe??’ But he’s played off like a cameo that’s there because Isaiah is there, no need to rush into the YA.

Kamala is also showing up. Ms Marvel wouldn’t be a MAIN solo project and would be kind of hinted to be disconnected until Carol shows up in the last episode.

There will also probably be a Hawkeye series but I don’t want any of the YA to be heroes before the YA. So Kate will likely cameo but I don’t want her to be a Hawkeye yet. That’s YA stuff. It can wait.

Second Phase:

A little more funky now. The Marvels is a good guide to take for the balance of funky and grounded. Sure it’s in space but it’s a pretty typical movie, nothing too big. Of course, the marvels = Teddy introduction. I’ve not watched the movie yet (literally on the way there now) so I can’t promise how I’ll introduce him, but it’ll probably be a small ‘cameo type’ thing.

The phase starts on a lighter note but slowly degrades, the avengers are slipping apart. It ends on a Loki s1.

Introduction of Kid Loki also. And I’ll probably do Sylvie differently. But with the demolition of the sacred timeline, there comes chaos in the storyline.

Introduction of the champions might occur here, whilst things are still light and dandy. Depends on what I can swing.

Third Phase:

House of M. Wandavision, obviously, introduces the Twins. They’ll probably remain toddlers though, to keep them little and cute, plus terrible twos + superpowers would make it obvious she’s crazy when she CHOSE that. They’re the two YA introduced this phase, no America until the multiverse unfortunately.

The avengers are slowly falling apart even further, Loki s2, and then, bosh, kangs. Not THE Kang, though. Other kangs. Fighting aaa. Some avengers probably die, Scott definitely does. They win and have to fight THE Kang, don’t win, Kang escapes.

Idk how to explain my idea for that film considering I haven’t properly planned it. But, basic idea is that he WILL come back.

Phase four:

No avengers. They fell apart, like they did for infinity war. If things like this keep happening, there’s no point anymore. Womp womp everything sucks. Some people, like Sam, are trying to keep everyone together but it’s so… hard. They wonder if they’re really just making things worse. They probably are.

Yeah there are solo projects. But it’s mostly pretty dismal. They’re trying to prepare to fight kang but they know they’ll lose. In the final solo project, there’s an end credit scene. Someone in a suit appears in dark streets and picks up a loose newspaper. ‘The avengers disbanded’. In a robotic-ish voice: oh no.

And then, final avengers movie of the saga. Except… it opens up to kids being assholes and oh wait this is just an adaptation of the first Young Avengers comic with some more emphasis on the avengers. Why have a huge crossover movie when teenagers can stab people? This isn’t to say there won’t be any closure for other storylines, I just don’t think every storyline needs to end in an AVENGERS storyline. The big crossover movie will probably be phase 3’s big Kang gang up movie, with everyone fighting their own time travelling war lord. But Kang’s death belongs to Nate. So that’s how it’ll be. Other superhero team ups will probably happen. But the big bad will be slain by those who now carry the avengers torch. It’s to me the only way to actually get people interested in the Young Avengers.

Some post saga notes:

There are some things that will be included. Like fantastic four and Xmen. It’s just a little difficult to try and explain how they fit it without going into masses of detail.

The next saga will likely be multiverse based. The Young Avengers are pretty well prepped for that kind of storyline. I’ll likely reallocate TLAT to this saga. Multiverse works better for god-based movies than time travel. It’ll probably include Children’s Crusade and YA vol2 for some of the avengers movies.

#marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #mru #marvel rewrite universe #young avengers

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kobriena · 1 year

Text

I’ve accepted the show is most probably over for good.

I’ve also accepted I get to headcanon anything passed the last episode. So, that’s good.

But I just wonder. We followed the hints and clues about Keeley being bi, and Trent and Colin being gay. And we were right.

So how were we so wrong about Ted and Rebecca?

I wasn’t conditioned to expect them to get together. It’s my first het ship since before I knew what shipping was. I’m talking Dempsey & Makepeace, here. I’m old. (Fwiw, they’re still married irl.) I’ve been shipping queer ships for decades before I even knew I was. I picked up on the subtext for these ships, like everyone else.

With these two, I didn’t ship them right away, at all. It wasn’t until 13th September that I thought they might be meant to be endgame. I started shipping them in the void between season 2 and 3, and picking up on things during my re-watches. But even then, if they were just friends, so be it.

So were we actually wrong?

That kitchen scene, if taken at face value, is one hell of an ooc scene for the show, as it’s just so mean. The Bantr fake-out, I knew it wasn’t Ted Rebecca was messaging. The cut to Ted was so obvious, it was too obvious. I didn’t know who, but I knew it wouldn’t be Ted.

It seems obvious, with the whole gas leak explanation, that it isn’t what first impressions suggested. But maybe that is too obvious, too. (I’ve said too, too many times.)

Rebecca with a messy updo and make-up from the day before, with a lot of leg on show, and not adjusting her robe until Beard appeared. That, plus her coyness, biting her thumb nail, and the way Ted was looking at her. It’s all there, but when Beard shows up, we’re meant to think we were wrong.

So was it a fake-out, that wasn’t?

Beard apologies for the noise, but it’s not until Jane says they’re welcome for the noise, that they look at each other and smile. Beard sure didn’t, but maybe Jane heard them making some noise, too.

TL;DR - They fucked.

YMMV.

#tedbecca #ted lasso

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ru-inn · 11 months

Note

Stop.

You don’t like Marvel or loki? Stop watching! Dear god, you are all so annoying!

Ok, I like Loki I’ve always liked him since 2012. I just disagree with character choices they made recently… and a lot of the wasted potential we saw with the show as a whole. It’s a great concept but they dropped the ball with it and rushed so many plot points. The character exploration in season 1 was interesting and they dropped it all in the last two episodes. The plot of episode 2 in season 2 was so obviously rushed and held so little emotional value. I honestly love the character of Loki, love Tom’s portrayal of it. Although, I will always see how his character gets dramatically changed in writing for every project he’s in. But, I’ll keep watching cause a part of me will always hold on to this character.

I mean Marvel recently admitted that they will just NOW start using show bibles??? Admittedly they been rushing out shows and haven’t thought about the overall story. It’s so obvious with the way they handled Multiverse of Madness and WandaVision. How does one write a direct sequel to a character’s storyline without actually watching the previous instalment? How is that good story telling?

So yeah I have a lot of criticism about Marvel and until they stop mass producing content I always will. I appreciated Marvel for everything that built up to endgame, it was ground breaking. But, I am allowed to be critical of them. If you don’t wanna see it block me.

Anyway peace and love ❤️

#Loki #lmao anyway #loki season 2 #the return of ru answers! I guess #me and my obsession with Loki’s comics will beg to defer

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philliamwrites · 2 years

Text

SWYAATL 14: The Happy Years

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x fem! Reader

Warnings: they're all horknee

Summary: “May Queen!” the girl shrieks, and throws a bright flower crown with frightening precision on your head. She then points at you. “We’ve found our May Queen!” Oh. Oh no. “Oh no no no no no,” you say out loud the moment someone swoops you up your feet. Nausea rolls through you—you hate hate being picked up, hate how it makes you feel like the small kid from five years ago during Shiganshina’s attack—before you start hyperventilating, you glimpse Jean in the crowd, doubled over and supporting himself against Marco, laughing at you so hard he almost topples over. Bastard.

Notes: [01] || 13 | 15

Words: 9.5k

A/N: Sorry updates are so scarce! Everything is changing for me with the apprenticeship but it’s a good change and I’m very, very happy where I am right now!! Might go into hiatus for a while because writing just isn’t doing it for me at the moment though. I’ll definitely bring Cadet Corps Arc to an end though, it’s only one or two more chapters after this one!

Don’t flock me, but this might slip a little into Reader/Jean (with Eren/Reader endgame, I promise). Also I’ve decided from this chapter on they’re all finally 18, you’re welcome. They’re all gay, they’re all horny, whoopa.

14: The Happy Years

January, February, March. The winter is a torrent of snow. Falling slow and fat. Falling quick and bright. The sun, if it rises at all, is a weak white flame until spring marches into the battle with all her blossoms and light, banishing the cold for another year.

This time, you were put into farm duty, something you’ve been looking forward to ever since the ground, formerly brownish or covered with snow, is now painted in greener tones. It beats having to prune trees or vines since you’ve always enjoyed working with soil and what the earth grants. There is also the benefit of seeing Dolly again, the only compound ox used to draft the ridge and furrows where you’ll plant this year’s harvest. Apparently, cadets long before your corps named him, realising too late that he was a male—as though the pointy horns are easy to miss—but the name has stuck ever since.

You’re leading the old boy over the field now, towards the other handful of cadets assigned to the duty. Reiner and Marco are tinkering with the bullock cart, checking if, after the long winter, anything has broken and needs to be fixed. Annie, standing a little apart from them, gazes out at the field. She looks as though she could think of a hundred different places she’d rather be. You can get a little behind her indifference. Many consider this task as a waste of time, for every compound receives the majority of vegetables, fruits, fish and dairy from outside farms and fisheries. The annual harvest you yield around autumn is only meant for reserves and emergencies should the usual deliveries not make it on time—which hasn’t happened in the almost three years you’ve been in the military.

You don’t mind the work at all—it is a nice diversity from the tasks you usually get, and you enjoy working outside in nature, where the air is fresh and the last hint of winter still lingers in the air.

“We’re ready,” Marco says now, rising from where he was perching in front of the cart. Already, his pants are dirty where he has knelt in the soil. “All good to go.”

“You two lead the old boy, Annie and I will be right behind you.” Reiner shakes his small basket with cauliflower seeds as you put the cart before Dolly and give his nose a good rub. He flicks his ears and trots after you across the field, occasionally bumping his snoot against your arm as if saying Look, I’m doing it! What about a little treat?,and of course you scratch him under his chin until his eyes fall close for a second in sheer contentment.

“He’s very enamoured with you,” Marco says, watching you two from the side. Even though it’s still cool outside, he’s rolled up his sleeves, showing his strong arms streaked with hard cords of muscle. Recently, his harness seems to be a size too small, cutting into his body parts that were extra thick with muscle such as his arms, thighs and upper chest. Not that you’re complaining about the sight. “Are you hiding treats or something in your uniform?”

“It’s my natural charm,” you say, grinning. “I don’t have to use cheap tricks like that.”

Marco laughs at that, and you notice how he doesn’t disagree. You continue down the field in companionable silence, only making comments whenever one of you spots a falcon gliding over the fields in search of mice. It feels like the build-up to something, but what exactly, you don’t know until finally, Marco says, “Only two more months left now. Those three years passed so quickly, I can hardly believe we’re almost done with our training.”

“Why are you in such low spirits then?” you ask. “What happened to all that enthusiasm of being able to serve the king once you join the MP?”

Marco’s silence makes you look over at him. There’s something wistful about the way he looks out at the fields—his mind seems to be as far away as the rising and sinking curves of the mountains in the far south.

“It’s weird, I know,” he finally says, scratching his chin where you see a dark stubble. “I also thought this was something I’m sure of. Graduate with a good score, join the MP and work my way up into the King’s Guard. But lately…” He gives a half-hearted shrug. “I had this weird dream, you know? There was a parade and the King was there as well but something wasn’t right. There were orphans crying and people seemed distressed. In my dream, I heard rumours about the true nature of the Operation to Reclaim Wall Maria a few years ago, and when I woke up, I realised this must have been because I talked to Armin and Eren recently. Armin told me that there was a parade back then as well, after his grandfather died, to distract from the disputes on food; to have the people be lenient towards the King’s sentence. And weirdly enough, I started to wonder … do I really want to protect the King, or is there maybe something else I should be protecting.”

Marco looks at you now, and there’s something bare in his eyes that makes you turn your head away. All you manage to answer is, “Jean will be very sad if you change your mind last second, you know? You’ve become one of his closest friends and …”

“And what?” Marco inquirers—part hopeful, part reserved.

And I know there’s more, but you’re afraid of it. One afternoon on a rare hour’s break in the barracks, you went over to the boys’ to get Marco for laundry duty, who had slipped inside just a moment ago. Standing in the entryway, you found him and Jean alone. Jean was sitting with his back turned to the entry and Marco used that moment to leap upon him in a fit of enthusiasm, screeching and squawking like a child at play. Jean wrestled Marco off him and they rolled around on the floor, grabbing and jostling, laughing at nothing. When Marco had Jean in a clinch, pinned to the floor, his knees on either side of Jean’s torso, he looked down at him and smiled, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

Even from that distance, you were sure that he had looked at Jean’s lips for a moment, turning his head a little and staring at him, his body arching forward just a touch. Jean raised his knee slightly and risked a smile. They looked at each other—“Ah, Jean,” Marco said mournfully, his voice soft—and then their heads both swivelled around at the sound of creaking wood beneath your feet as you shifted your weight to make a silent retreat, positive that you had walked into a private scene not meant for anyone to see.

Marco jumped up, turning away from Jean. He looked at you, startled, unable to catch Jean’s eye. After a moment of silence, Jean, to lighten the mood, had simply asked if you had lost something, and when the moment was over, everything had returned as if nothing had happened between them.

“And nothing,” you say now. Whatever is between Jean and Marco, it is none of your business. You don’t think Jean would appreciate you poking your nose into his business—especially one that seemed a foreign territory to even himself. Ever since the incident with the wolf last winter, he’s become curt—sometimes even downright nasty whenever Eren is around or you so much as mention him. The only reason you can think of is that with graduation drawing closer, they’re both reminded how opposing their future wishes are, and suddenly nothing of what has happened before—standing together against Victor; fighting the robbers and saving Christa—seems to matter.

“Yeah, I still need to talk to him about that,” Marco says, cutting off your thoughts. “If he’ll join the Scouts.”

“The Scouts?” You almost trip over a mound of dirt, saving yourself only by flinging your arms around Dolly’s strong neck. He snorts appreciatively. “Why the Scouts?”

“You know … the way Jean is, I feel that if he joined the Survey Corps … he could save a lot of lives.”

You give that some thought, and initially, nothing about it seems wrong. Jean is an exceptional soldier, both capable in ODM and analysing the situation in battle to find the best outcome. Funny enough, Jean’s talent seems specifically the reason why Eren keeps blowing the fuse whenever they talk about their future goals—Eren can’t seem to understand why anyone would waste their talent like that. You’ve stopped bringing that up with him. It seems easier to get along with him if you two don’t try to bust each other’s heads about which Corps to join after graduation.

With the field ploughed, the seed sown, you take a little break. The sun stands high on the zenith, and the work has left you sweating. Dolly, freed from the cart, lies on the ground. His tail flicks at flies in lazy swipes, and whenever someone bends down to pet him, he closes his eyes in cosy satisfaction.

“Did I hear that right, you’re thinking about joining the Scouts, Marco?” says Reiner now. He’s perched beside Dolly, and gives his back soft claps. You have a hard time not staring at his thick thighs. “How come?”

Marco, leaning sideways against the fence enclosing the fields, shrugs with one shoulder. “Feels like I might be able to do more if I join them.”

“The Scouts will be happy with a guy like you,” Reiner continues. “You’re a great soldier, Marco.”

Marco ducks his head as if he can hide the red tinting his cheeks. “What about you guys?” he quickly asks. “You’re both at the top as well.” Reiner throws Annie a quick glance which she promptly ignores.

“It’s gonna be the MP for me.” Reiner isn’t shy about his decision, giving Marco a crooked grin. “I’m pretty sure that’s where I can do my best as a soldier.”

A snort comes from Annie’s direction, so quiet that you think you’ve imagined it were it not for Reiner turning his head in her direction. She’s looking down at Dolly’s head resting on top of Reiner’s thigh, and something in her eyes is short enough to send a shudder up your spine.

“Best as a soldier?” she scoffs. “You think anyone joining the MP has such a pretentious, noble goal in mind?”

Even though Annie and Reiner didn’t seem to get along well, or have any common history you’re aware of, sometimes she is capable of saying things that make him go silent for a moment—like right now. Maybe that was just Annie’s expertise—saying things people didn’t want to face.

“What about you?” Reiner turns to you, choosing to run from Annie’s glacier-cutting gaze. “Changed your mind yet? Your performance has dropped, but you can still make a comeback in the final exams next month.”

You look up from where you’re crouching on the ground, digging your hands through the soil. The smell calms you, and nothing is quite a testimony to a hard day at work than the dirt and grime under your nails. “Nope, still don’t care about the MP,” you chirp.

“Really? Has Eren finally convinced you to join the Scouts, then?”

“Eren?” You throw a quick glance at him. “No, why would he have anything to do with that?”

“After everything you’ve been through, I thought you two are like this,” Reiner says, crossing index and middle finger. You throw a handful of dirt at him and pretend it doesn’t please you that the others think you and Eren are that close.

It shouldn’t be a surprise.

Not after you’ve survived the wolves; not while you two gradually gravitate towards each other like moths to a flame. Certainly not when every time you practice together in hand-to-hand-combat, it is like rough, desperate fucking where no one wants to relinquish the upper hand—and dominance—to the other. There is no finesse to your fighting, unlike Annie or Mikasa, you two just rely on brutal force and a desperation to win that is downright frightening at times.

Last time, you had almost won. Almost, if you hadn’t been so blind with joy and stroking your own ego having handed Eren his ass. Then, everything happened so quickly. He hooked his feet behind your ankles and tugged, swiping your legs from under you. Not even a second on your ass, his feet locked behind the back of your knees, he turned to the right, forcing you to turn with him, and suddenly you were the one on all fours, bending over. You had tried to scramble back up, but Eren snatched one arm from under you and his other hand found the back of your neck, pushing your face into the dirt, the other pinning your arm behind your back. His hips pressed hard against your ass. Stunned, you had remained still, and you could have sworn Eren had muttered something along the lines of “Right where I want you,” but you couldn’t be sure because a moment later, Jean was already there, kicking Eren off you. You didn’t pay any attention to their squabble—you didn’t pay attention to anything happening that day because your mind kept conjuring very unnecessary images of Eren using his strength to manhandle you in a bunch of different other positions.

“I made my decision a long time ago,” you say now before your mind can venture to those fantasies again, “and I’m not going to change it. Just like Eren won’t change his mind if I tried talking him out of joining the Scouts. Besides—” You clamp your mouth shut. Three pairs of eyes stare at you, waiting for you to continue, but you can’t just tell them about the deal you’ve made with Ymir.

She approached you two months ago, on a grey, rainy day—though maybe ‘approach’ was too tame a word for how she had slithered after you like a snake sneaking after prey for days on end. It was a simple, small mission; heading out to a long-abandoned manor close to Wall Rose and checking the damage after a vicious storm had swept through it. The rain had subsided enough to venture out, and during a short break under the coverage of a tree’s canopy, you had veered off the group to refill your water bottle with fresh rain water.

The landscape was not gentle and rolling, but harsh and foreboding. Green hills dotted with grey gorse swept up into crags of dark rock. Long lines of mortarless stone walls, meant for keeping in sheep, crisscrossed the green; here and there was dotted the occasional lonely cottage. The sky seemed an endless expanse of white, brushed with the strokes of long, dark grey clouds.

You had noticed Ymir shadowing you all week prior to that conversation. Standing in dark corners, watching you with her unnerving, small eyes like little pinpricks of a dagger’s sharp tip aiming for your throat. You’d known it was only a question of when she’d corner you, and when on that day, she had risen behind you, you were already expecting her, meeting her eyes only slightly obscured by the hood drawn over her face from her cape.

“What do you want?”

Ymir had stared at you, unblinkingly. And then she’d thrown her head back, barking out a laugh that cracked like thunder. “Right to the point, then. I like how you turned out after that whole fiasco with the dogs in the woods.”

“You mean when I almost died? Yeah. Great times.”

“Oh, come on.” Ymir rolled her eyes and joined you kneeling at the ground, wiping forth her own water flask. “You survived. You grew a pair of balls most of the guys here don’t have. It wasn’t all bad.”

You gave a gruff sound of acknowledging her words—the compliment. Ymir never handed out compliments unless one was small, blonde and named Christa, and the fact in itself only proved your theory that she was after something.

Staring at you some more, Ymir’s grin didn’t cool, but it sharpened. A muscle in her jaw clenched, as though she was chewing on her words before she spoke. Finally, she said, “I need you to do something.”

“You need me,” you repeated, just to check that you didn’t mishear, “to do something for you?”

Ymir nodded, a single curt movement as one would chop up wood. Or someone’s head. You felt as if ice water had been dumped down the back of your neck, shoving you to full alertness. “And what exactly would that be?” you asked.

Ymir stood still as a statue, unblinking. You felt as though something very serious was happening right now, and allowed her to take time to find the words. Then, she finally looked up, and said, “You don’t care about the ranking. Let Christa have your spot.”

“Hmm.” You watched the rain droplets collect at the mouth of your flask where they didn’t disappear in the narrow black hole. The wind picked up, whipping your coats left and right. So many thoughts whirled inside your head until they finally settled. “You want Christa in the MP, even though you won’t be able to follow her? Why?”

“None of your business,” Ymir snapped, not even trying to bite back a sharp retort. “Just say Yes or No. I’ll figure out something else.”

“Is it because you love her?” you continued, ignoring her. “Or are you arranging everything so that she’ll help you from inside the Inner Wall later?”

Ymir didn’t respond for a while. When you didn’t think she’d answer at all, she gritted out, “I want a safe life for Christa. Don’t pretend you’ve never had anyone like that.”

You pressed your lips together. The water in your bag had started spilling. You watched the water flow over and soak into the already wet earth.

“Okay,” you said.

There was only a brief pause. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It’s like you said, I don’t care about the ranking.”

Very quietly, you heard Ymir exhale a long breath. She rose to her feet, looking like she wanted to seal the deal somehow. With a handshake or a clap to your shoulder. Maybe even pat your cheek like she had done when she’d talked to you for the first time all those years back. Ultimately, she preferred her hand intact and wouldn’t gamble with you biting it off, and stood to go back to the other cadets.

“Ymir,” you said before she left. Ymir stopped. Slowly, she turned. “What’s in for me?”

She positively flashed her teeth at you like a cornered wolf as though you have not already learned how to dance with wolves. You were not afraid of them anymore. Screwing the water flask shut, you closed the distance between you two. “You didn’t think I’d just do you a favour with nothing in return, right?”

“I was hoping you’d be that naive, yes.”

You gave her a smile. It was not a pleasant smile. “No, you’d hoped I’d let you use me. But I’m not letting my chance at having you owe me pass.”

Ymir clicked her tongue. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and looked mildly annoyed. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know yet,” you answered truthfully. Ymir’s mild look of annoyance grew into a very physical, very palpable thing she looked like she might use and whack you with.

“You had me thinking you’re badass and smart for a second. Who’s to say you hold up your end of the deal but I’ll disappear forever?”

“I’m not worried about that,” you said, climbing after her back up the hill. “I will find you and make you hold up your end of the bargain, Ymir.”

Ymir didn’t stop to look at you. “Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s a promise.”

***

Two years away from Trost, you have almost forgotten how badly crowded the narrow streets are. Carriages roll side by side with costermongers’ carts piled high with fruit and vegetables; women shawled and carrying shallow baskets full of flowers dive madly in and out of traffic as they try to interest the occupants of various carriages in their wares; and cabs come to a full stop in the midst of traffic so that the cab drivers can scream at one another from their seats. The noise adds to the din—ice cream paddlers shouting “Hokey-pokey, coin a lump,” newspaper boys hawking the day’s latest headline, and someone somewhere playing a barrel organ.

It is a vast contrast to today’s morning exercise where you’ve practised evacuating the civilians during a Titan breach, the streets empty save for the giant wooden Titan dummies and a few citizens acting out an emergency. The instructors dubbed it a simple exercise, but everyone knew it was part of the ongoing final examination that had started a week ago and is slowly creeping towards its end.

You’re surprised how easy it is to perform badly. Ymir’s deal gives you a nice way out of carrying the responsibility to make a choice after graduation. Already, other cadets have been mumbling “what a waste it is” that you would “only” join the Garrison when so many would use your rank and buzz off inthat hside the Inner Walls. Now that you’re leaving the spot to Christa, it’s like a weight has slipped from your shoulders.

Shadis notices, of course. The first two weeks had been the beginning of your military training all over again—screaming at you until his spit ran down your face in rivers, penalty drills for slacking off, threats to send you back home where you could pick up and sell shit from the gutters for all that he cared.

You’re still here a week later, though now you wish you weren’t because slowly, you’re running out of patience to deal with Jean’s bitching.

“And why would she just barge in like she owns the place?” he repeats for what must be the third time today. “I told her I’d drop by eventually.”

“Like you dropped by the last time we were stationed near the farms and didn’t visit her?” You haul another basket stacked to the brim with flower garlands onto the cart, pushing it to the very back against the other caskets you’ve already stored. As a little girl, you never noticed how many flowers were involved in the May Day. You were way too busy stuffing your mouth with sweets and pastries, and playing at the game stalls while the adults staggered past you with heavy beer and ale filled jugs, hollering and screeching songs.

The excitement for the holiday is like a charged up buzz jumping from person to person. A day and night full of revelries and pleasantries, games and drinks and good food. A break for cadets before their graduation—and a little pick me up for the Scouts as they’re heading out for another expedition outside the Walls the week after.

You’re mostly looking forward to the food and enjoying a great time with your friends before everyone goes their own way. Who knows when you’ll see each other next time. If you see each other next time.

You shake your head, banishing these thoughts to where they don’t wear down your excitement.

“What do you mean, No?” Jean asks incredulously, which is a problem because he stops and you walk right into him, and the second basket you’re carrying bounces off his back and right into your stomach as you walk into him.

“Ooof.” You glare up at him. “Do you mind? I want to finish this work before lunch break.”

He stares at you, and realises too late, “You didn’t listen to anything I just said, did you?”

You don’t bother trying to look contrite. Jean looks like he might throw his hands up, but the basked in his hands makes that impossible unless he’d prefer a broken foot. Instead, he settles for pulling a face at you.

“I can’t believe I’m pouring my heart out to you like that and you don’t care.” He drops the casket unceremoniously into the cart so that half its contents spill, and turns around to you, thick arms crossed over his broad chest. His white shirt sticks to his skin from the hard work, outlining the strong chords of muscles running along his arms, his abdomen. He always used to be taller than you, but now after years of hard, rigorous training, he’s also broader, and he has no problem letting you know that during hand-to-hand-combat practice or whenever he wants to make a point and hands your ass to you.

“It’s hard to be on your side when all you do is bitch about having a mother who’s looking after you,” you snap. The effect is immediate. Jean takes a step back as if he has been punched and doesn’t know where the blow has come from. When he stares at you, it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. Something inside his face shuts close.

“You don’t understand—” he begins, but immediately seals his mouth shut.

You cock your head to the side, challenging him. “Why? Because I don’t have a mom? No parents who can fuzz around and worry about me?”

Jean goes very quiet. “That’s not what I meant.”

You stare each other down like two strangers trying to determine if the person standing before you is a threat. It is as though even after these three years and everything you have been through, Jean feels more distant lately.

Before you can open your mouth, a female voice shouts from across the plaza, “You two, stop slacking off and move your asses! We’ve still got too much work to do!”

“Let’s go back,” you say, subdued.

Jean sighs and makes an after-fucking-you gesture. You move to the next row of baskets in silence. Working with your body is easier than working with your brain on how to undo the damage. But one look at Jean tells you his face is still a closed door. You have no patience for delicate lock-picking, and instead decide to kick the door in.

“I’m sorry,” you say at the same time he blurts, “I didn’t mean to be an asshole.”

You look at each other. Smile. Order has been restored.

“Ida just means well. After graduation, she won’t be seeing you anytime soon,” you say. The next basket is full of white daisies, tulips and roses. You stare at the soft-petalled mount, feeling the strange urge to shove your face right into them and inhale. Maybe you’ll get high on the sweet smelling pollen.

“I know, I know.” Jean waves his hand. “I’ll visit her. After that stupid cook off next week.”

“Why did you want to participate in the first place?”

“You think I’d let Sasha and her big mouth go around and tell everyone she’s a better cook than me?”

“Oh, woe is men and their fragile pride.”

Jean shoves you with his elbow, only hard enough to make you lose your balance.

You finish your work, the next assignment already waiting for you on the other side of the District. Your supervising officer orders you to join with the others who are already busy setting up the sets of tables and benches, and the minstrels’ stage.

You walk the same streets as three years ago on the day you signed up for the military. The District hasn’t changed at all, but you two have. You don’t miss how Jean tilts his face upwards, examining the roofs and crenellations of the buildings. Looking for anchor points for his gear. You’ve also categorised the best advance points by height. The whole world looks different since the ODM gear has become a part of you.

As you cross the plaza, Jean throws an apple at you, a leftover from Ida’s surprise visit last week. You catch it with ease, your reflexes sharpened to an arrow’s tip precision over the years. Turning it over in your hand, you barely dodge a cart transporting a row of stacked benches onto the plaza. Good service those reflexes do you. But Jean has pulled you into his side for good measure as well, staring daggers after the cart.

“Bloody Hell, it’s like suddenly they don’t know how to manoeuvre those things,” he says.

You glance at his hand still closed tightly around your upper arm.

“They’re just excited,” you say. “And a little nervous. They still haven’t found a May Queen.”

“I wonder why they don’t just pick a random chick, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“The people of Trost think differently about it.”

Jean mumbles something to himself and lets you go. “That’s why you don’t change tradition. If they’d just pick a pretty lass, we wouldn’t be under this pressure.”

“Anyone specific in mind?”

Jean looks down at you, snuffling. “Mikasa for example.”

“Wow. Okay.”

“What? Do you want to be May Queen?”

You raise your chin. “I mean, I don’t, but why do you sound like I wouldn’t be able to pull it off?”

“I mean…” Jean kneads the back of his neck. “I don’t remember the last time you wore a dress.”

“It’s not like I forgot how to move in petticoats and girdles,” you say. “I just prefer not to.”

“Come on, how hard can it be?”

“Hmph,” you say. “I’d like to see how you’d manage sitting and standing up straight in stays and petticoats for a whole night.”

“So would I,” says Marco, appearing out of nowhere with a table thrown over his shoulder as though it weighs nothing. Jean and you share a moment of silent appreciation for Marco’s arm muscles.

Jean shakes his head. Either about your comment or to clear his head from whatever images Marco’s sight conjures in his mind. “Whatever. I only really care about the food, and after that, it’s straight up inside the Inner Wall and away from this sewer of a District.”

You question that ‘straight,’ but you question even more if Marco has managed to talk with Jean about a change of heart. When you give him a sideways glance, Marco catches your eye and subtly shakes his head. Not yet, it seems.

“You know, if there’s ever a chance I’ll meet your Military Police regiment, I’ll do my best to embarrass you and tell them all those funny stories about little Jeanie how he got trapped naked in a rose bush,” you say, and drop the apple Jean has given you in a beggar-woman’s lap as you enter the wide, open marketplace.

“You wouldn’t—” Jean begins, but is interrupted by cheers erupting like a thunder storm around you. People scream, their hands thrown high in the air. You’re the definition of confusion. Marco almost drops the table and crushes a little girl darting between the adults crowding you three like ants climbing over themselves to reach food.

“May Queen!” the girl shrieks, and throws a bright flower crown with frightening precision on your head. She then points at you. “We’ve found our May Queen!”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Oh no no no no no,” you say out loud the moment someone swoops you up your feet. Nausea rolls through you—you hate hate being picked up, hate how it makes you feel like the small kid from five years ago during Shiganshina’s attack—before you start hyperventilating, you glimpse Jean in the crowd, doubled over and supporting himself against Marco, laughing at you so hard he almost topples over.

Bastard.

“No sense of modesty, not one of them,” you spit, holding your breath as Mina, Hannah and Christa try to get you into that prison of a dress made specifically for this year’s May Day celebrations. The seamstress who worked on the dress, Hilda, smiles patiently.

“Well, the people … and I mean the women, have been complaining for years that only choosing the most beautiful girl seems a little unfair. I liked that no one new this year’s criteria. I’ve heard a woman in Stohess adopted a litter of kittens, and another performed a handstand for hours and hours in Jinae. Acts of kindness make for a far better queen than her appearance, don’t you think so too, girls?”

They grunt their replies, too focused on tying the bodice on your back.

“Since we’re at it,” you wheeze, feeling as though your lungs are being crushed and all your organs squeezed into a pipeline, “how about we change the dress code as well?”

“Now, let’s not get too hasty,” Hilda says, smiling. “Or I will be out of a job.”

“But I will be out of a life.”

“Beauty is harsh,” Hilda provides unhelpfully, “but you will be the most powerful woman tonight.” And with that, she jitters away like a little excited bird to grab more silk ribbons. It’s probably the first and last time you will ever wear something so expensive.

“Last chance,” you say, turning to your friends after Mina finishes tying the last knot at the back of your corset. “Any volunteers? Christa? You would make such a better May Queen than me.”

Christa beams. “Nonsense! You look so stunning, [Name]! And I think this is exactly what you need after dropping out of the ranking.”

Gods bless her heart. You don’t know what to say should she find out you do this for her sake.

“All eyes will be on you tonight.” Mina takes your hand and twirls you around as if you are a princess and she is asking for a dance. The frilly, heavy dress brushes against your thighs and leaves a sliver of skin visible, showing exactly where—and how tight—the white tights you’re wearing end. “I can’t wait for all the festivities and drinks and music!”

“I heard the Scouts will be there as well,” Hannah chimes in. She lets her hand roam over the different fabrics Hilda has laid out before deciding which colour would suit your eyes best. “They’re off to another expedition next week, right?”

“Just a small one. I can’t imagine most of the execs joining tonight though. There’s still the final test at the end of this week, and then the official choosing of our branches.”

“It’s so weird,” Mina whispers, her grey eyes big. “We’ll graduate tomorrow.”

She’s met with silence. Between most of the cadets there is the unanimous agreement that nobody talks about the graduation; about the friends you’ll part from. You look over at Mina, oh and there it is again, the expression on her face you have recently come to see—and loathe—more often: as though her saint has forsaken her and now she is facing a brewing storm all alone.

Mina catches your eyes and gives you a sad, little smile. You have already been instructed that if you join the Garrison, you will be stationed at your home districts. You will stay here in Trost, but Mina will return to Karanes District. Even the promise that you will visit each other is only bitter-sweet knowing the first two or three years will be strictly to settle in your new unit.

“Oh, stop making those faces,” Christa says. “Tonight is a night of fun! I won’t allow you to go out frowning like that.” She grins and takes your hand, and in that brief second something flashes in her eyes that is so unlike Christa that you hesitate when she starts pulling you towards the shop’s front door. It makes her stop dead in her tracks—and there it is again, the timid look etched onto her face like a painting you’re more familiar with after all those years.

Mina must have realised Christa’s plan. She takes your other hand and kicks open the door. “Come on, we’re done taking measures. Let’s go and see the plaza.”

“I don’t think Hilda is done with the dress—” you begin, but your protest falls on deaf ears. Mina’s eyes sparkle with mischief. You have always been unable to tell her No when the Saint of Adventures holds her captive.

She pulls you outside the small tailor shop and into a narrow street where vibrant garlands of flowers hang from the roofs like exotic snakes. Already, the streets are filled with mouth-watering smells of food, the sound of laughter and joy.

Mina plucks a colourful flower wreath from a vendor’s stand. The man’s face behind the counter, just a moment ago a brewing storm, immediately clears of any wrinkles and lights up when he sees you. He bows like a knight courting a princess, greeting you with a loud, jolly “Maienkoenigin!” and with that, you are in the centre of attention.

You’re pretty sure the revelries would have started with a small speech from Trost’s mayor during Commander Pixis’ presence, but now that the people see you are out on the streets, they’ve taken it into their own hands to toast to you.

From all corners you see flower petals thrown in your direction. “Maria Maienkoenigin, wir kommen dich zu gruessen. Oh holde Freudenspenderin, sieh uns zu deinen Fuessen!” they sing the holiday’s song in honour of the May Queen and Wall Maria where the May Festival five years ago should have taken place.

Boys and girls dance around your knees, grabbing for your skirts to get your attention and accept their little flower bouquets as the crowd moves to the plaza with you in the middle. Tall poles stand at the entrances, decorated with more flowers and paper garlands snaking around them to the very top. The May pole, this year a birch tree, has already been erected in the centre where a wide square has been outlined to mark the dance floor and where later boys and girls weave the colourful ribbons around the pole.

Surrounding it are multiple, long rows of tables and on the side, right next to a wooden square where the band plays, officials have prepared a celebratory banquet fit for a queen. Your mouth waters just thinking about all the delicacies waiting to be devoured.

Were it up to you, you’d immediately charge for the food. But Mina has other plans. She pulls you towards a table—you didn’t even notice your training corps has gathered and selected one closest to the banquet.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mina announces. “Our May Queen!”

A round of polite applause sounds until they get a better look at you.

Connie starts howling like a wild animal.

Somewhere Ymir is screaming her case that Christa should wear that dress instead.

Jean, sitting at the very front, just stares at you—and that of all lashes uncertainty across your chest like a spiky whip. You don’t think you have ever felt self-conscious in front of him, but now you are painfully aware of the low cut of your dress, the corset hugging your body tight and pushing your tits up into full, round mounds. It feels as though one move too much and your tights will rip in two. You are very aware of how you look as you slide onto the bench next to Jean. He doesn’t scoot over to make you place, leaving your thigh pressing right against his, but turns his head away and takes a big swig from his cup as though his mouth is parched.

Compared to Eren, Jean has manners, at least. Ever since you have joined, he hasn’t stopped staring blatantly at your tits.

“Hey,” Jean snaps. Eren doesn’t blink. “Hey, Jeager!” He snaps his fingers right in front of Eren’s eyes. “Eyes up, you freak.”

Eren startles, and blinks as if he’s just woken up from a dream. He looks from you to Jean, and very intelligently says, “Huh?”

“You look very pretty,” Marco mumbles into his cup from Jean’s other side because he is the only gentleman in this rowdy round of pigs.

“I could do with a little less cleavage,” you admit. “And a little more breathing.”

“Well, it’s tradition.” Jean fumbles with his wooden spoon as if it is particularly hot to the touch. When he drops it and it falls in the non-existing space between your touching legs, he glares at it very hard as if by doing that, he might will it back into his hands. You pick it up, hold it out to him. Jean stares at you as if he sees you for the very first time.

“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with a tradition that puts women into skimpy dresses?” you ask. Jean needs a full minute before he finally takes the spoon from you. It is deliberately careful as though you are handing him a sharp tool rigged with thorns that might jump at him any second.

He makes a point looking right into your eyes. “I just think you made a lot of guys very happy today.”

“Meaning how?”

He shrugs. “We guys just talk about stuff.”

You look sideways at him. “Anything interesting?”

Jean gives you a quick once-over and says, “Oh, you have no idea.”

You can tell he wants you to ask what, so you don’t.

Once the excitement settles and the feast begins, you slowly begin to feel more comfortable. You don’t think you’ll get used to the stares and gawking, and you can’t wait to wear your comfortable uniform again where the greatest offence is someone staring at your ass. But for only one day it is nice to be revelled for your womanhood, for your beauty, and the power a woman holds for bringing forth life from her womb.

The food is more delicious than anything you had during your trainee days. You don’t remember the last time you had meat. Roasted pig, a fatty chicken broth with fresh vegetables. Familiar recipes from your childhood are served at the banquet: raviolis, tardpolane, blancmange and clarer. The mead and beer flows in rivers, served by beautiful girls who all wear a distinct flower in their hair. Children come and share their treats with you, piling hills of sweet rolls, candies and honeyed biscuits onto your table. You’re glad Sasha is already working on it.

District Mayor Singman holds his speech about work and prosperity, about the great solidarity that made this feast possible in the first place and the great harvest waiting as a reward later in the year. Commander Pixis is next, but you barely listen to his praises about the recruits showing great promise and how he can’t wait to welcome them. You’re too busy peeking over at Eren who is peeking back at you from time to time. His pupils are blown black whenever his eyes trail over the crimson ribbon holding your front together—one pull on that ribbon alone and your whole dress would come undone.

So you don’t pay much attention when Jean and Sasha and their teams go to the front and hold their competition. Only when the familiar scent of Ida’s omelette wafts to your table, you look up and see Jean standing up on the podium, looking a little lost as he presents his culinary creation to Commander Pixis. The fact that he used his favourite meal, one of Ida’s many dishes she has perfected over the years just so her little Jeanie would go nuts with joy, unfurls something in your chest, making you feel a warmth that you know has nothing to do with the mead in your belly.

Jean wins, and thus the festival’s games begin.

Everyone who wins a small wooden chip can switch it for a free drink, a treat or a small token of affection from yours truly, the May Queen—all in accordance with your consent, of course, and you’re glad Garrison and MP soldiers on duty make sure no one oversteps your boundaries. You doubt anyone is out for quarrel and blood today, anyway. Revelries like this one are such a rarity that nobody wants to fight.

Most have been very sweet so far. Old grannies and grandpas give you their gifted tokens to hold and pat your hand, telling you their stories—about past May Days and the games and feasts and joyous times before Wall Maria’s fall.

Sometimes you stop listening because you spot a handsome young man or pretty young woman throwing starry-eyed, flirtatious gazes your way from a distance, their chips held close and dear to their chests, unsure if they can come closer. You’ve only had a few sips from the mead served at every table, but you feel so warm, so comfortable. You always smile back at them.

Others would come to chink glasses or invite you to a quick dance under the intoxicating sound of a jolly fiddle and the beautiful voices of a bard duo.

Not even an hour in, the first familiar face emerges from the crowd of strangers. Reiner grins down at you when you roll your eyes in a teasing way.

“Popular, aren’t we?” he says, flipping the chip between his fingers. His shirt is torn at the collar, dust and dirt patches adorn his cheeks and the lower part of his shirt that’s half-tugged into his breeches. Behind him, Bertholdt trails him like a shadow, looking anxious as always when he’s swallowed by a foreign crowd. It isn’t the first time you notice that he’s attractive in this non-conventional way. He doesn’t stick out even though he is so damn tall; he isn’t overly handsome but you really adore his nose and his pale green eyes. Bertholdt catches your eyes and gives you a small, sheepish smile. He looks as though he’d rather face a dozen Titans than asking someone for a quick dance.

“Why am I not surprised?” You smile, slightly leaning forward as you prop yourself up on a fence you’ve been leaning against. Reiner’s eyes immediately drop to your neckline. He mirrors your smile, and you feel all warm and tingly in your belly, the honeyed taste of mead still sweet and heavy on your tongue. “But you look like someone roughed you up real good.”

“Grappling.” He gives a lazy shrug, but you can see that he’s secretly pleased to have won. “You should see the other guy.”

“Tell me then, what affection do you seek?” you recite the quote—not for the first or last time for this night.

His only answer is a suggestive grin, and then he leans over and brushes his lips over your cheek. It sends a bolt of electricity from your face down to your legs where your knees turn to cotton. Satisfied with your reaction, he saunters away, leaving you feeling warmer than after any dance so far. It takes a minute or two until your heart stops thrumming when the next suitors already wait in line.

“Just like I predicted,” Christa beams up at you. She’s circled by Ymir and Mina, and judging from the rose-red blush on their cheeks, you aren’t the only one who’s a few drinks in. They’re wearing flower crowns as well: blood-crimson and virgin-white petals sit proudly on their heads. Except Ymir. You can hardly imagine her a queen anyway. A knight seems more likely. Christa’s virtue has always been Ymir’s biggest priority during trainee days.

Mina sways a little. It takes a moment for you to realise she’s trying to pull something out of her pocket, and when she finally manages it without losing balance, she proudly presents you a wooden chip. “I have a chip,” she declares, just to make sure you don’t miss it. She holds it under your nose as if you might still doubt her. “It was Christa though who won it,” she adds very sadly.

“Yeah, but I’m the only one who can give Christa anything,” Ymir quickly butts in, throwing her arms possessively around Christa’s small frame.

You’re about to blurt that allowing Christa entrance into the MP is already more than anything one could get around here, when Mina slaps her hands on your cheeks and smashes her mouth on yours. Her lips are very, very soft, and she tastes like sweet apple cider.

As quickly, she pulls back, a happy smile spreading on her face.

You grin back. Before joining the military, you’ve kissed one or two boys in Trost, their names already long lost and withered in a garden where you’ve pledged to take care of new flowers that have grown over the last three years. The bouvardia’s little pink heads shake in excitement today.

Mina takes your hand and weaves you surprisingly soberly through the dancing and laughing crowd, dodging expertly whoever tries to reach for you because they want to invite you for another pint or dance. She leads you to a table a little off the main plaza where couples and children dance in never-ending circles to the music, and only when you sit down, a little confused from the new surroundings, you notice the familiar faces of your squad.

Connie and Sasha, arm in arm, sway to the music, singing gibberish lyrics that could be the right ones, could be their whole new take on it. Daz and Samuel try to outdrink each other, not caring about how unkindly their bodies will repay them come tomorrow. You notice Annie, Reiner and Bertholdt are not present and wonder what they might be up to. In your half-drunken state there’s only one answer you arrive at, one that makes you giggle into your mug and almost choke on the mead.

“What are you laughing at?” Jean asks. He has Marco and Armin in tow—one distinctly blushing, the other too aware, too attentive for your liking. Clearly, Armin hasn’t touched any booze yet, and clearly, that is about to change.

The moment he sits down, on cue, a bartender from the closest counter swipes in and distributes new mugs spilling over with beer.

“Here’s your drink, stranger,” he says. “Bottoms up.”

Armin obediently starts getting up.

The bartender gently presses him back down. “The drink, lad.”

“What’s it like, being the popular one for one day?” Jean asks as he leans over the table, wearing that stupid smug smile you’d love to punch off his face. Maybe with your mouth even. The thought whips you sober; kicks up dust that’s settled in a corner for such a long time that you forgot all about the feeling it’s hiding and what it’s like to mourn her.

Answer. You still have to answer, even though you’re afraid you might choke on that dust.

“That’s a whole day more than you’ll ever get, Kirschstein,” you say, quickly locking your lips to your tankard because your mouth feels too dry.

Jean flips you off. Beside you, Marco is fiddling with something in his lap, and when you take a closer look, you see he’s pushing a wooden chip into his palm with his thumb. He catches your gaze and flushes furiously.

“Jean,” he begins, startling Jean opposite from him. Quieter, Marco continues, “Jean won it.”

You level Jean with a long, silent gaze.

“What?” Jean mumbles.

“You saying you wouldn’t wanna kiss [Name]?” Connie shouts from the other end of the table.

Suddenly, it’s deafeningly silent.

“It’d be like kissing my own cousin,” he shouts back, his voice loud enough it almost breaks. From nervousness? From disgust?

The table laughs.

You laugh.

Suddenly, the mead sloshes heavy in your stomach like acid. Maybe you’ve just drunk too much.

The jest unlocks something that’s been holding Marco back. He quickly snatches your hand and presses his lips to your knuckles before dropping it again and lifting himself from the seat. He flees into the crowd of dancers, ears crimson red, Sasha’s cries to bring her more of the sticky honey roast falling on deaf ears.

When you look over at Jean, he’s staring at you, then at Marco, as if he’s just realised something, and his pupils grow large, black. Fathomless.

You need to know what’s going on in his head, but before you can voice your question—bold by wine and pleasure, you’re ready to cross the line—a storm in the form of Eren appears right beside you, trailed by Mikasa who—do your eyes deceive you?—looks as though she’s trying not to smile. She catches Armin’s eyes, and they both share a silent glance.

Eren announces his arrival by slamming a wooden chip right in front of you as though you have insulted him and now it’s his right to demand reparations to his status.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he demands.

You blink up at him, and it takes time before your eyes meet his as your attention gets lost on the way to his face: on his biceps, on his sharp collarbones winking at you from under his white shirt.

“What’s so hard to understand about it?” Jean snorts into his tankard. “It’s just for fun, Jaeger. Maybe you should look it up in a dictionary.”

Eren does look a little as though he’s never heard of that. You also can’t imagine him participating in a game for fun. He’d make a game of can knockdown into a question of life and death.

“You can give it to me, if you don’t want it,” Connie pipes up.

“You scared of girls, Jeager?” Jean continues, talking over whatever Connie has in mind with you. “This might be your only chance ever getting kissed by one before you head out beyond the Walls and die a horrible, pathetic death.”

“It’s stupid,” Eren says to you, as if you are the inventor of the May Queen’s tradition. “It cost me two coins to play the damn game and this is what I get?”

“No one is forcing you—” Connie tries again, sneaking his hand across the table to swipe the chip.

“Ohh, look at you, Eren, trying to pretend like you’d hate it,” you speak up now, slamming your hand over the chip and almost squishing Connie’s fingers under your palm. He jerks back, cradling his hand close to his chest. “You want to kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid.”

Once more, laughter rises from your table. You look into the faces of your friends and relish in being the reason for their joy.

Eren doesn’t think it’s funny. Eren Jaeger is fucking determined to prove you wrong. He slaps his hands around your cheeks, holding your head in place. Every sound dies at your table.

You’re about to tell him it’s just a joke, no need to get his knickers in a twist, but he’s dead set on his mission: Giving you a concussion because he smashes his mouth against your forehead and almost knocks you both out cold.

Jean, who’s still been laughing until this point, goes dead silent, looking sickly grey.

“Hey—” he begins, but gets knocked over by an over-excited and slightly drunk Connie, splashing beer all over himself.

Eren reels back, hand pressed against his mouth, his bottom lip bleeding where his teeth have grazed it. Your head throbs and you’re pretty sure your cheeks show red lines where he’s pressed his fingers into your skin with a bruising grip.

“Oh my God, don’t you know how to kiss someone?” Connie hollers, banging his fist on the table hard enough it shakes and you hear a distinct crack. Jean starts to climb over the table, ready to administer rough justice, but his foot gets stuck at the edge and he topples off the table right to the feet of a few girls who misinterpret it and haul him up to drag him away to the dance floor. Your whole table is attacked by merry dancers, and you’re yanked away from your friends when the minstrels begin their performance and the music picks up again. The sounds swell to a roar—as do the guest’s voices when they chime in with the jolly song.

The Fishmonger’s daughter, ba ba The Fishmonger’s daughter, ba ba The Fishmonger’s daughter, ba ba The Fishmonger’s daughter, ba ba ba

A great classic to start off the night. Ring-a-ring-of-roses it goes as the guests dance in a wide circle, arm in arm, shouting in tandem. You don’t know the faces to your left and right, but their smiles are infectious. You laugh so hard your belly and cheeks hurt. The circle breaks, pairs find together like bees to flowers. Now that everyone is on their feet and in a dancing mood, the minstrels start a new song. On and on in circles it goes—left and right, from partner to partner until faces blur and become unrecognisable.

Your head feels light, as though filled with cotton. You want to stay in this moment forever—dancing, singing, laughing.

A strong hand gently settles on your underarm. You look up at strong, broad shoulders and arms the size of logs. The man has slicked his blonde hair back neatly, and when he walks through the crowd, it parts naturally as though he is a force of nature to be reckoned with—and then he turns, and you look up in the sharp, blue eyes of Survey Corps Commander Erwin Smith.

A/N: Fingers crossed I'll upload the final chapter of the first act at the end of October.

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Taglist: @arisu003, @brooki, @prttyangelbaby, @honeylmnade, @berriesandcrem

#aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #snk x reader #snk x you #snk x y/n #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #swyaatl

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