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[missmaywemeetagain]

Fireside - A Pink Scarf Universe Story 💗🧣💗

A/N: Apparently, I am not able to stay too far away from our darlin' Reader and Elvis, no matter how hard I try! I just love them too much. So, here is a sexy little blurb taking place in February 1970. I hope you enjoy, and maybe if this gets enough likes and traction, I'll release more and grow the "Pink Scarf Universe" lol, who knows?

If you haven't read Pink Scarf, read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist (though honestly you could probably read this without knowing their story it just won't be as fun for you without the background info 😂).

I will also say this isn't as heavily edited and revised as PS, but hopefully it's still readable...

TW: MINORS DNI 18+ SEXX. PS Daddy E is back! The usual filth with these two. Fluff. A tinge of angst at the beginning. 😏

Word Count: 4.4k

Fireside

Graceland, Late February 1970

Shivering as you make your way across the lawn, you pull your arms across your coat in tight, feeling a bit insolent and annoyed that you even have to trudge out here in the middle of the night. But Elvis had insisted, in that spontaneous way of his, that he must have a campfire tonight, of all nights, even though they all had just returned from his second engagement in Las Vegas and were all beat to hell with exhaustion. So, he and the guys had all tasked at building what you considered to be a too large and dangerous fire in out on the back lawn.

Perhaps you might be feeling more understanding if you hadn’t just spent two weeks away from him—the longest amount of time you’d been apart since August. You’d been sent home early after catching the monster flu that had been going around, which had turned quickly into a terrible bout of bronchitis. The desert air had done you no favors, and Elvis, along with the doctor, had sent you home to Memphis despite your protests. You were furious because Elvis, too, had caught the flu, but in that stubborn way of his had insisted on performing through it like an insane person.

“All these folks paid good money and flew in from all over to come see me, Satnin. I ain’t gonna disappoint them,” he’d said to you as you both coughed and raged with fever.

You were so mad he’d sent you home during your first engagement as one of his back-up singers that you were still stung by it. But you were also finding yourself increasingly needy for him along with your moodiness.

Which is why you find yourself out in the cold, sniffling, desperate for your fiancé to come inside and shower you with attention instead of living it up out in the cold with the guys he just spent a solid month with.

Your grumpiness is fueled as you approach the roaring flames and spot Elvis in his low Adirondack chair, laughing it up with the guys. You don’t like the feeling of jealousy that creeps over you at his attention being pulled away from you by these men. It’s silly, you know, just as you know it’s part of the package. Elvis’ light and charisma demands attention whether he means it to or not but having been away from him the past few weeks made you miss him in a way you haven’t felt before.

Part of you can’t escape how handsome he looks in the firelight, his smile wide and crinkling his lovely blue eyes. And that damn laugh of his is so contagious and musical that it almost—almost—pulls you out of your funk.

That tether between you has been pulled tight for too long and yanks you towards him out here in the cold. You stand over him sullenly for a moment until he raises those soulful eyes up to yours.

“Why ain’t you in bed, Satnin? You shouldn’t be out here. You’ll catch another chill,” Elvis says in what to him is a caring way yet to you feels almost dismissive. But he must see the needy look in your eyes and the tears brimming there because his voice softens and he adds, “Come ‘ere then,” and lifts the heavy blanket over his legs. A sense of deep relief falls over you as you slide sideways into his lap, throwing your legs across his, his warmth cocooning you. He pulls the heavy blanket up over you both and you snuggle into his chest.

Yes, this is what you need, you think, collapsing into him, his spicy familiar scent enveloping you, the heat of his body burning into yours. One arm circles around your back and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you ever closer. God, you missed this. You missed him. To think you spent so many years near him but without him… No wonder your brain concealed so much from you for so long—this yearning you feel is nearly unbearable and he is already yours.

You sigh into his neck, and he presses his chin down to look at you. “What’s wrong, baby?” he whispers in your ear, his hand slipping under your coat to rub comforting circles at your waist. His slender fingers are cold, but you don’t care in the least.

“Missed you,” is all you can eek out in your sensitive, tearful state, your hand clutching at the front of his coat.

“Aww, darlin’, I’m right here,” he says, kissing the top of your head, then pressing his fire-warmed cheek to your cool one.

You can’t help but pout, your mood worn from weeks of being sick and without him to comfort you. It’s not like you to act this way—for years you built a stoic shell around yourself to cope with Jack being gone all the time—but Elvis managed to break that shell into pieces last summer. Since then, you’ve found yourself feeling every little thing and unable to hide it from him. Perhaps it is because he is so finely tuned into you that he just knows when something is off, but you can’t seem to hide things from him even when you’ve tried.

“Mhm,” Elvis tuts in your ear, “you’re still sore that I sent you home, ain’tcha? I’m not gonna be sorry about that, honey. You were too sick and the doc was right—that Vegas air was doin’ you no good.” He shakes his head.

You huff stubbornly and bury your head into his long neck. Of course, logically, you know they were right to send you back, but you are still upset and not just about that. You can’t seem to voice exactly what you are mad about, only realizing that you are annoyed and sad and small and needy in a way you’ve never been before. And this overwhelm seems to steal your ability to express any of those emotions in words. You’re not sure what exactly you need, other than being as close as possible to the man you love.

“Oh, don’t you be obstinate, now,” Elvis warns quietly, the slightest edge of temper in his voice. Your only response is to cling to him harder, to nuzzle yourself further into the warmth that emanates off him.

He says nothing for a moment, staring into the fire, but you can sense the gears turning behind those pretty, worn eyes. Finally, he seems to come to some conclusion because his countenance shifts and he forces your chin out of his neck with his finger so he can look you in the eyes.

“Is all this because you need Daddy to take care of you?” he asks quietly, firmly. His voice is low and rumbles right down to your toes, the words setting every one of your nerves on fire along the way.

A whimper escapes your lips. You are suddenly grateful for the inky darkness of the winter’s night, at the heat of the fire, because they conceal the blush that suddenly blotches your cheeks as Elvis stares deeply into your eyes. The gaze has you squirming to get off his lap and you want to pull him into the house where you need him, but his large hands clamp down firm.

“Be still,” he commands sternly, but only loud enough for you to hear.

Your heart is galloping at the implication of those two little words.

“Now are ya gonna be a good, quiet little girl for me?” Elvis asks, his hand gripping your chin so you have to look at him. His face is the picture of controlled calm—it’s only the flames dancing in his darkening eyes that gives him away.

You hadn’t realized just how badly you needed him to take control until this very moment.

You manage to nod solemnly as all the blood in your body seems to rush into your core. You don’t know what he has in store for you, but the fact that he is not making any attempt to leave the company of the men surrounding you makes you nervous (and maybe a little intrigued).              

Elvis releases your chin and pulls the heavy blanket up over your shoulders, encouraging you to snuggle back into him by tightening his hand around your waist. The warm wool now covers you both from head to toe, and it is only then that you start to glean why that might be important.

You rest your head on his collarbone, waiting with bated breath, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart begin to quicken under your hand as you slip it into his coat. You’re unable to help the impulse to place a fluttering kiss at the pulse point on his elegant long neck, and his lip curls up in response. Before long, he begins drawing small circles with his fingertips up the inside of your thigh, and when reaching the hem of your dress, he slips under without compunction. You stiffen as he continues, unhurried, up, up, up until he reaches your panty line.

Your eyes widen and you wonder if Elvis is really going to do this with all the guys around. It’s bold, even for him, even with the blanket tenting and concealing his movements. A snake of apprehension in your gut is overrun by the thrill of the risk. The conversation around the fire flows on without either of you, and the crackle of the flames conceals a lot, and for that you are grateful.

The light brush of his fingers over the cotton of your panties makes you jump despite yourself, and in response, Elvis grips your waist hard, stilling you.

“Be good,” he orders through clenched teeth, “or I’m gonna stop and leave you to fend for yourself. Or maybe I oughta pull this blanket off and let the guys enjoy the show.” His lip quivers up slyly at that.

The threat stills you either way.

Elvis chuckles darkly. His fingers resume their teasing, dancing over the cotton at your core delightfully as you attempt to stay as still and quiet as possible. He is maddeningly patient, doing this until you can feel the throb of your pulse blossoming between your thighs, and it has you oh-so-quietly panting into his neck. But it’s not until he feels the fabric dampen under his touch that he finally slides his naughty, slender finger underneath, grazing through your slick and up to your sensitive bud, forcing you to bite down to keep from keening loudly.

Fuck, you’ve missed him.

By now, he knows how to play you like an instrument, his instrument, knowing exactly how much pressure to use as he circles your clit again and again, enough to get you sufficiently worked up. His casualness suggests he has all the time in the world while you’re sitting in his lap beginning to shudder from the pleasure coiling low in your belly.

Occasionally, he’ll stop, just to listen to your desperate breathlessness, your carnal wanting of him quelled by trying to be a quiet, good girl like you promised. A hint of a smirk plays on his face, making you want to crush your mouth to his or slap him for his teasing. Instead, you settle for clawing at his shirt.

The wetness that gathers between your legs has your panties soaked and sticking to you now, which might be embarrassing except for the fact that you are so damn needy for him, you couldn’t care less about your ruined underwear. Elvis discovers this fact as he finally dips lower, running the length of his finger back and forth through your sopping, swollen folds, taking his sweet damn time.

You tense. You are nearly ready to come undone just from his teasing, but you know that’s not what he wants. That’s not the game he’s playing. You raise your head from his chest just long enough to give him a pleading look.

He's doing a decent job of keeping his handsome features neutral, looking to a casual observer as though he is following the conversation around the fire and not driving you to madness under the blanket. But knowing him as you do, you can see the tiny giveaways that he, too, is flustered: the way his nostrils flare with his increased breathing rate, how his brilliant blues gleam with arousal, the way his plump lips part when he finally presses his middle finger deep into you.

Your wetness devours him readily. To hide the gasp and roaring flush on your cheeks, you pull the blanket up even farther. You clutch at his chest and your nails scrape his skin. After a few agonizing minutes, there’s no helping the instinct to grind your hips against his hand, wanting him deeper, wanting to consume him.

But while he smirks and is pleased with your desperation, he also will not relinquish control. He stills completely, one hand gripping your waist hard as a reminder of who is in charge. Your warm, wet heat clenches around his finger.

“Be good and stop squirmin’, little one,” he whispers low in your ear, “and maybe Daddy will keep finger fuckin’ you ‘till ya come.”

You stop moving but whine in response to those dirty words coming from his perfect pouty mouth—you just can’t help it—but it’s so quiet he can barely hear you. Your reward is another finger sliding deep into your heat. He picks up the pace in an unforgiving way. Gasping, you bite your lip when he curves those fingers just so, hitting that spot deep inside that is only his.

The blanket barely moves, and you have no idea what magic he is using to keep things so incognito, especially considering he naturally has so much energy that his limbs are usually vibrating uncontrollably. You still feel completely on display, though, especially when the pad of his thumb begins massaging your bud in time with his expert fingers pumping in and out of you.

I’m going to come undone, right here, in front of all the guys, you think in horror. You have no clue how you are going to keep quiet and still and good if that happens. Panic begins to build behind your arousal because you just know that coil is going to burst and you’ll cry out in ecstasy any second now (but a dark part of you is even more aroused by the scandalous nature of it all).

Elvis must sense the change in you because he edges you right up to the point of no return but not over. He halts his ministrations. You clutch desperately at his expensive shirt, certain you are going to shred it to pieces by the time this little game of his is through. Your heart pounds hard and fast against your ribcage, in time with his, and you wait to see what he has in store for you next. Because even though a part of you is embarrassed by this game, you are drinking in every drop of attention, relishing his command over you, needy for every morsel he deems to give you.

He’s considering his next move, you think, by the way his eyes narrow slightly and his grip on you shifts. When he pulls his fingers out of you, you almost moan for the loss of them, but catch yourself at the last second. Brazenly, he wipes his sticky fingers down your inner thigh, his eyes dancing with amusement as he does so.

You gape at him. He can’t be finished, you think dismally. He can’t leave me like this.

No, you don’t think so, not with the way you can feel his hardened length pressing into your hamstring.

He kisses your temple sweetly. “Now listen carefully, little girl: Imma need you to shift onto one of Daddy’s legs for a second. Nice and slow now, don’t call attention to it. And hold those ruined panties of yours to the side. I wanna feel that pretty little kitty weepin’ for me,” he rumbles in your ear.

Oh my goddd... The urge to moan long and loud fills you but you just nod instead.

You follow his directions and move your weight so one of his lean, muscled thighs is between yours. The rough fabric of his pants scrapes your bare pussy as he bounces his leg a few times, sending a cascaded of shivers into your belly. His pants will need to be dry cleaned for the soaking spot you’re leaving there, and part of you feels a sense of pride to be marking him in such a way. Mine.

Holding the blanket up to your shoulders dutifully, you stare at the golden flames licking into the air in front of you. No one seems to notice or care that you have shifted.

That’s when you feel it. The slow, deliberate way he undoes his belt, the ticking of his zipper. You blush furiously, then feel the spring of his heavy cock being released. Before you can react, he unceremoniously and quickly lifts you fully onto his lap, lining you up then impaling you down upon his length.

You cover your surprise and choke with a cough—not unusual considering you’re still recovering from bronchitis. Thank god you are as wet as you are because, even so, it’s a damn tight fit with him having been away these past few weeks. You have to keep yourself from rolling your eyes into the back of your head because he’s finally filling you the way you need him to.

Yes, this is what you wanted. This is what you needed. You just didn’t expect it to be in front of all his (albeit unaware) friends.

By the way Elvis grips your waist and from the soft grunt that escapes him, you know he’s struggling to contain his own reaction to your heat, despite the air of control he’s been exuding. He adjusts you how he wants you: leaning your back over his chest, your legs draped over his, his chin resting on your shoulder. With the way the seat of the chair tips down to the ground and with blanket pulled all the way up, nothing looks amiss.

You close your eyes and sigh, relishing the feel of him stretching you, his cock buried deliciously deep inside you. He envelops you in his arms, one under your breasts, the other at your lower belly. His warmth burns into your back, but he does not let you move. Those wiry but strong arms have effectively pinned you to him. Almost frantic, you try for some semblance of friction, anything at all to ease the tension, but he just chuckles at your near-silent gasps, holding you fast against him.

Finally, once you relent and relax, Elvis swivels his hips, again and again, in a slow rhythm not unlike one monumentally famous performance on TV in the beginning of his career, the one that sent the church ladies off their rockers and the teenage girls fainting. Suddenly, you want to giggle at the fact that his damn hips resulted in both his skyrocketing career and in his censorship because those same hips have certainly become even more skilled in the many years between then and now, but for different, more scandalous reasons. Maybe those church ladies had a point, after all, you laugh quietly. And it causes you to clench around his cock.

Then you hear a low growl in your ear: “What a dirty little girl you are, letting Daddy take you like this in front of all these men. Bein’ so good for me. You like this, baby girl?” Each statement is accentuated with a shallow but pointed roll of his pelvis.

You bite your lip, nodding. His dirty talk has molten heat flooding down your limbs and directly into your cunt. With the warmth of the roaring fire coupled with the passioned heat at your back, your arousal grows with each small movement, each scandalous word, and has you feeling like you might combust before this is all said and done.

So desperately do you want to ride him within an inch of his life, but he won’t allow it. No, this is his show, and you give into him, fully resting back onto his chest. He rewards you by finding your clit again, massaging it in slow time with his barely moving cock. The result is both torturous and delectable, working you into such a state that you dig your nails so hard into his clothed thighs that he hisses.  

“Fuck, little one, you feel so good,” Elvis breathes jaggedly into your ear. He presses a hand to your lower belly, then rolls his hips up. In this position, he’s big enough that you both can feel him there. “Takin’ my cock so well.”

You do your level best not to mewl, to stay quiet for him. Instead, your breathing pants through your nostrils and you try to keep your wits about you, trying to stay good as he fucks you so slowly within an inch of your life. Fucks you with all the guys around, who seem none the wiser.

He must feel you begin to flutter around him, your climax drawing ever closer. You feel like you’re about to burst because you need to scream, to moan out his name, do something that will let you release this pressure, but you tamp it all down as far as you can.

“Daddy’s gonna make you come now, sweetheart,” he purrs.

“N-not h-here,” you breathe out, panicked, knowing you can’t hold on much longer.

“Yes, here,” he chastises. “Right in front of ev’rybody. You’re gonna come so hard, baby, cuz Daddy treats you right, doesn’t he?”

You almost sob at that and nod, that coil poised to explode at any moment.

“But you’re gonna be good and so, so quiet cuz it’s just for me baby. You ain’t gonna cry out or move a muscle, okay?” he whispers and though he’s commanding, you know he’s close to losing control himself by how labored his breath is and how tightly he’s holding you.

You nod, and he flicks your clit with expert, rapid precision. “Now, lil’ one. Come now.”

That’s all you need. Quite suddenly, you are consumed by fire as hot as the one blazing in front of you. Your body tenses, then shudders violently in his lap and he holds you to him as you careen over the edge, lost to the dark night. It takes every ounce of self-control in you to not cry out, resulting instead in your huffed breaths. Long nails bite into his arms, clamoring for some outlet for your pleasure. Your eyes close, stars dancing behind them. Your walls clench and flutter around his length and you feel his slow rhythm begin to stutter.                                                        

“Fuck, baby, Jesus fuck, so good for m-me. Daddy’s gonna fill y-you up now. All mine. Aw, h-hell.” He pulses inside you, covering his own orgasm by biting deep into your shoulder, so hard you can feel it through the heavy winter coat you’re wearing. His thick, hot arousal throbs and coats your insides and you ride him through it with the tiniest rocking of your hips, feeling lighter than air but also grounded by him.

That’s what life with Elvis is like, you think. He grounds you to him, to his orbit, and sends you both shooting to the moon and the stars.  

Completely blissed out and spent, you fall into him, and he slumps back in the chair. As you come back down to Earth, you feel your breathing sync with his. You close your eyes and revel in the wonderful way he’s made you feel, this man you are so wildly in love with.

You’re no longer upset.

You’re just glad to be back in his arms.

Elvis nudges you and you realize you may have dosed off, as he is now soft inside you and the fire has dimmed some.

“I think you made quite the mess, lil’ mama,” he whispers, nipping at your ear.

Indeed. You can feel the cool pooling of your collective arousal coating you and his lap.

“I made the mess, huh?” you whisper back with a roll of your eyes.

“Oh, most definitely.” You can feel his boyish grin as he kisses your neck.

“Sure. And how exactly are we supposed to get back in the house without everyone knowing we had sex in front of them?”

He pauses and then you can feel the vibration of his chest as he starts to chuckle, that way he gets just before he has a laughing fit.

“Oh, don’t you dare start, E,” you warn. It’s contagious, of course, and you feel your own laughter bubbling. “You didn’t think this all the way through, did you, love?” you shake your head.

“That’s what I have you for!” he laughs.

“Well, I guess we’re just gonna have to sit here and simmer in our juices until everyone decides to go to bed, now won’t we?” you try to whisper sternly, but giggles escape at the complete ridiculousness of the situation.

“Not in our juices!” he cries with laughter. He’s completely beside himself, pressing his forehead into your back in an effort to hide his amusement.

“What was that, EP? Thought you both fell asleep over there,” Lamar says.

“N-nothing!” Elvis hiccups. “Just go about your business! Y’all must be getting’ tired, right? Time to go inside! Time for bed!” He flails his arms in the general direction of the house.

You are both trying, quite unsuccessfully, to hold back your laughter, and the guys are looking at you two like you’ve grown horns.

“Um, sure, EP? I guess it is getting late,” Charlie throws out.

Quizzical, the guys grumble a bit and begin to mosey their way towards the house.

“You comin’?” Lamar shouts.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it! We’ll get there!” Elvis calls, shooing him away, then dissolves into another peal of breathless laughter.  

“Okay, Crazy,” Lamar mumbles.

Elvis is sniffling and snorting by now. Your face is red and tears poke at the corners because the more he laughs, the more you laugh.

“I love you, Satnin,” he says, kissing your cheek gently once everyone is gone and your giggles have subsided.

“I love you, too, baby boy.” You press your forehead to his. “Now please tell me you have a handkerchief or something cuz otherwise you’re gonna need to wear this blanket around your waist to get inside.

“Anything for you, baby, anything for you,” Elvis says, holding back another peal of laughter.

And you know it’s true.

*

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[missmaywemeetagain]

okay i guess i’ll read pink scarf … AGAIN

@missmaywemeetagain

[mandms-blog-of-silly]

☆ PLEASE ENJOY SOME QUEER F/O HEADCANONS BC IT'S PRIDE!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️

☆ Gear up for a lot of projection of the A-spec varieties lol!

⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️

1990! Erik Carriere {He/him}

☆ Oriented Aro/Ace {Bi and Cupioromantic/sexual} and Agender! {Shhh! I'm not projecting! *wink*}

Gwynplaine Clancharlie {He/him}

☆ Bisexual and Demi-romantic/sexual!

Raggedy Andy {He/him}

☆ AroAce!!

ALW! Erik Destler {He/him}

☆ Bisexual!

ALW! Christine Daae {She/her}

☆ Oriented AroAce {Bi!}

ALW! Meg Giry {She/any pronouns}

☆ Lesbian and Genderfluid!

1991! Christine Daae {She/her}

☆ Oriented AroAce {Pan and Cupioromantic/Bellusromantic!!}

Nico Di Angelo {He/they}

☆ Gay {not a hc but 🤷‍♀️}, Lithoromantic and Nonbinary!

Ghouls/Ghoulettes

☆ Polyamourous and Queer!! {I'm not listing them all but believe they are very gay in all senses! <3}

⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️

BONUS!! MY FAMILY!!

Primo/Papa Emeritus I {He/him}

☆ AroAce!

Secondo/Papa Emeritus II {He/him}

☆ Bisexual!

Terzo/Papa Emeritus III {He/him}

☆ Pansexual and Genderfluid!

Copia/Papa Emeritus IV {He/him}

☆ Oriented AroAce! {Bi!}

Will Solace {He/they}

☆ Bisexual {canon but still!}

⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️

☆ I saw @feixshal-selfshipping do it first!! :)

⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf core 💗🧣💗

‘ Your gonna learn just how much I want you lil mama’

‘I always look after what’s mine’

Referencing pink scarf 🧣 🥵🥵

[hotch-girl]

hi H, my dear, it’s been a while so i just wanted to stop in and see how you’re doing?

bestie hiiii <333

tysm for checking in i’ve missed u!! i’m doing good just grieving my horrible succession family sksjsk. otherwise i’ve been really busy lately and missing being here. i’m hoping to be more active next month ignoring the way i say this every month

how have u been? i hope ur weekend has been amazing so far and things have been going great for u and ur partner!! still so excited and happy for u 💞💞

[pjackk]

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[ropapormayorchileonline]

[missmaywemeetagain]

Something Blue, A Pink Scarf Universe Story

A/N: Ohhh, so y'all forced this out of me, what with all the talk about the "Blue Scarf" and expanding the "Scarf Universe" thrown at me this week! 😂 (I hear you, I hear you!) Be careful what you wish for, lil' darlin's!! Honestly, though, I've known since I ended Pink Scarf that this was something that was going to happen in this particular way to our dear Reader and E, I just never knew if it was going to see the light of day. And with this week's prompt, all the inspiration and stars seemed to align at once on Sunday, so this came out rather quick and may be rough, and it's possible I might go back and tweak it later, but I'm happy with it for now. I hope this satiates you for the moment. I hope it gives you all the feels. And, yes, perhaps I may expand this little Blue Scarf into a series and include a spicy story or two later, if you all are good lil' babies for me. 😏 💙🧣💙 Let me know in the comments and reblogs...😉

Thanks always to my sister wives @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @be-my-ally and @vintageshanny for allowing me to skirt by late with this week's prompt. 😇

Prompt: “How are we going to solve this problem?”

Rating: PG (ish?) || Word Count: 2.7k

TW: Fluff, angst (always), infidelity (sort of??), no smut (so sorry loves)

Something Blue, A Pink Scarf Universe Story

August 1971

It’s fitting, you think, that today of all days, you’re wearing his blue silk scarf in your hair. Elvis hasn’t worn it much since that fateful summer a couple of years ago—and only for a few more shows and a couple nights out—so you had absconded with it and made it your own, as you’d managed to do with many of his things. You loved how it smelled of him, the silk doused in his musk and cologne, and how it reminded you of the not-wearing-a-shirt-under-a-jacket/jumpsuit phase he gone through that summer and fall of ‘69. Lord, you’d loved that phase. It had been so easy to lay him bare before you.

Heat floods your cheeks at the thought of what this particular scarf has seen between the two of you, and then at the fact that this might be the worst possible time for a thought like that to pop into your head. You know it’s the shock of the bomb that just dropped on your lives that has your brain short circuiting a little. Because neither of you ever expected this.

You nervously twist the platinum and diamonds on your ring finger, the ones which pledged his love for you in front of your family, friends, and the world. Thoughts fill your mind of your lovely, small wedding, how this scarf had been there for that important moment, too, tied around your waist, cinching your white dress—being both your “something borrowed” and your “something blue.” Elvis loved that you’d included it, this piece of him, as part of your gown.

He also loved untying it at the end of the night and letting it flutter to your feet with the rest of your dress.

It’s counterpart, the pink scarf, had been tucked into the pocket of his suit jacket, a little secret for you both. You’d enjoyed it, as well, later that night.

“Y/n, did y-you hear me? I-I-I-It’s me,” Elvis says, snapping you out of your memories, his hand lingering on the phone he’d just placed back on its cradle. “How are w-w-we going to solve this problem?”

The wavering fear in his voice is palpable and in any other circumstance it might scare you, but a strange sense of calm falls over you. Somehow the domino effect of both of your actions two years ago have led you to this very moment. Tragic as it is, it seems meant to be.

Just like you and Elvis.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you breathe deeply. Yes, there is a part of you that is still jealous and angry about what brought you here. But you knew, even back then, that it was possible he’d been with others in your month-long absence, that his fear of losing you plus old habits could have driven him into the arms of another. It wasn’t a new revelation, just one neither of you had wanted to talk about after all was said and done. And it hadn’t been an issue since, so you figured bringing it up would be more trouble than it was worth.

Pushing that hurt aside, a much bigger feeling swells within you—one you’ve been hesitant to name for fear that it would not come to fruition. But now everything has changed.

“It’s not a problem,” you state, your voice surprisingly steady.

“W-w-what?” Elvis questions, those oceanic eyes of his widening in disbelief.

“It’s a gift, Elvis. From the most unlikely and sad circumstances, yes, but a gift all the same. Isn’t it?” You’re not quite sure if you are trying to convince him or if you are just stating the obvious, but those feelings continue to rise in you and have for days. And they overshadow the fading fissure of anger and the burgeoning fear that you refuse to let consume you.

Hope. Joy.

“A gift?” he repeats, letting the words roll on his tongue, letting them sink in. He blinks slowly, gaze shifting off into the distance for a moment. Then, he looks down at the paperwork on the table. At the picture. “Oh. Oh.”

A shuddering breath shakes his shoulders, his ring clad fingers clawing at his knees. It’s when the tears pool in his eyes, finally betraying his sensitive vulnerability after so many days of keeping it in, that you slide out of your chair and rush to his side.

He immediately buries his head into your belly, his arms circling around your waist, clinging to you. A sob wrenches out of him, one so deep that it brings tears to your eyes.

“I-I-I’m so s-sorry. I-I didn’t think...I-I-I din’t know,” he hiccups. You’re not sure if he’s apologizing to you or her or him. Maybe his apology is for all of you.

“Shhh, hush, it’s okay,” you coo, tears trickling absently down your cheeks. You run your fingers through his soft hair before pulling back, cupping his cheeks so he is forced to look at you.

He is so wide-eyed and young-looking staring up at you, his eyes now matching the scarf in your hair with their electric blue, a dramatic contrast against the redness caused by his tears.

“It’s not a problem, honey, it’s a gift. He is a gift,” you say, wiping the tears that linger on his prominent cheekbones. “We can do this. I want to do this. If you do.”

Elvis blinks up at you, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes. If he’s a part of you, he’s a part of me, too. And—and,” you choke up, swallowing your past sorrows, “you know it’s something I’ve always wanted. Something I never thought we could have. This is…a chance to make something wonderful out of something tragic.”

You’re aware the reality is likely going to be much more complicated than either of you can fathom in this moment. There is a part of you that is utterly terrified it won’t live up to the miracle you want it to be and that you won’t be worthy of the task. But that is not what Elvis needs to hear, not right now. Your insecurities can wait.

Elvis looks down at the picture resting on the table of the young woman and her baby. Your gaze follows. The first time you saw it, you knew, based solely on the fact that the woman looked so much like a younger version of you, that something had happened between them in those weeks you’d escaped from Vegas to California, when you left him, trying to figure out if you could forgive him. When you were trying to recover from your life turning upside down.

Her likeness plus the look of horrified guilt on his face upon seeing the picture told you all you needed to know about that. His begging and pleading for forgiveness at your feet solidified it.

But it had been the way Vernon had blanched white as a sheet when seeing the baby that you understood the true consequence of Elvis’ dalliance.

It was a punch in the gut, at first. Of course, it was. But logically you knew that he’d been hurting in those weeks without you, unsure if you’d ever come back to him. It wasn’t altogether surprising that he’d sought out comfort from a girl who looked so much like you.

You wanted to be furious at the fact she had gotten pregnant by him so easily, but you knew that was a futile road to go down, especially after what happened to her.

According to the letter she’d given to her lawyer, who had sent it on to Elvis, the cancer within her spread like wildfire. It was too late to save her by the time her pain had sent her to the doctor. She—Theresa—had never planned to ask Elvis for a thing, she reiterated. Theresa had been content to raise her son by herself. But she had no family to take him in when she was gone, and she could not bear to think of her son alone and unloved.

“You don’t have to take him, Elvis, truly. But I beg you, please, please make sure he is placed with a nice family, that he is loved and taken care of. I cannot leave him all alone.”

His lawyers weren’t convinced, however, and didn’t want him to even entertain the thought. It could open you up for all sorts of future problems, Elvis.

But that didn’t stop him from finding out for himself because, as all of them knew, nobody tells Elvis Presley what he can and can’t do. He tracked her down, in Denver of all places, and took you and Vernon with him to the hospital to see Theresa. You didn’t know how you would feel seeing this girl Elvis had been with in a moment of weakness. Would you want to slap her face? Would you want to cry and scream? Would you want to tear her apart?

Instead, it had shocked you into silence, seeing someone that resembled you so closely withering away from disease, as if it were some sort of eerie harbinger. It made your skin prickle. But then compassion filled you, more so than you ever expected. The poor woman was on death’s door, but you’ll never forget the relief in her eyes when you all walked through the door. That look was something that couldn’t be faked. Nor was the toddler playing with the nurse in the corner, the little boy who Vernon looked at like he’d seen a ghost.

The boy was the spitting image of his father.

But that didn’t stop Theresa from encouraging a paternity test. She was well aware of what a mess this could be for Elvis, and she didn’t want there to be a shadow of a doubt for anyone involved. She wanted him to be sure.

“I don’t want to ruin your life,” she’d croaked, her emaciated frame limp and barely able to produce the tears she was trying to hold back. “I never want him to be a burden.”

The tiny blonde child chose that pivotal moment to break away from the nurse, waddling over and grabbing Elvis’ flared pant leg with chubby little fists, commanding Elvis’ attention downward. His chin tucked, gaze following the movement at his feet, and you watched him wrestle with what to do, what the protocol in this sort of situation was. It was intense, this first moment between them, and the boy’s all-too-familiar crooked smile and slow blinking blue eyes made your heart clench.

You watched Elvis come to an unspoken decision, and he lifted the boy easily and almost too naturally tucked the boy into his hip. The room collectively held its breath, watching the scene unfold. You’d never seen a child snuggle up to an unfamiliar person like that before, the way he buried his head into Elvis’ shoulder as if drawn in, inexplicably trusting. Granted, Elvis had that preternatural way about him, his essence bringing people to him constantly. But this was different.

Heart fluttering into a gallop, you watched Elvis take this moment in before nodding solemnly, sucking in his lip. With the child tucked into his side, it was obvious to you that he was holding back his pressing emotions to stay in control. Nevertheless, he was unwavering when he told Theresa, “Even if he’s not mine, I’ll make sure he finds a good home. I promise you that.”

She’d closed her eyes then, and when they opened, you saw a gratefulness and relief so strong it nearly bowed you over.

Elvis had done the blood test right then at the hospital. Everyone was quiet on the plane ride home. Elvis, pensive and withdrawn, clutched at your hand so tightly it tingled from the loss of circulation. And when the call came the next day that Theresa was gone, your heart broke for her. Sheer willpower had kept her alive long enough to make sure her son would be safe. A mother’s love.

You’d wept for her. You’d wept for you and for Elvis. You’d wept for that little boy.

Nicholas. Nicholas Aaron.

You didn’t tell Elvis that the moment you saw the 16-month-old toddle towards you that you knew. That you loved him instantly, like something magical locked into place. It was too early, too soon. But you knew.

Elvis hadn’t wanted to talk about it much as you all waited for the results. He was antsy and on edge, everyone giving him a wide berth. His guilt was trying its best to distance him from you, that deep seeded, insecure vulnerability in him trying to simultaneously push you away while needing you close. It was evident in the way he clung to you in his sleep. But you did everything in your power to let him know you didn’t hate him for the indiscretion, that you still loved him unconditionally, no matter the paternity outcome.

Of course, your mind whirled in overdrive, circling the drain around your surprising emotions about Nicholas. You found yourself worrying your nails down to the quick about whether he was safe and who was caring for him since his mother died. Your heart felt like it was tearing in two whenever you thought about it. You knew you shouldn’t get too attached, but you couldn’t help it. It was primal and biological, this response.

So when the phone rang this morning and Jerry had so seriously handed it to Elvis, you knew what it was, your breath catching in your throat. This was the moment that would change everything. And you hoped it was for the better as you sat across from him, wringing your hands in your lap. Silence filled the room as Elvis listened to the voice on the other end, his face going Hollywood blank, giving you nothing to hold on to. Your heart threatened to explode right out of your chest and onto the table.

He thanked the voice on the other end and hung up the phone.

“E, what did they—” you started.

“I’m his father,” Elvis finally whispered in shock.

And now you are here, holding him to you, being his rock while in your own state of disbelief and wonder. A thousand emotions roll through you all at once: Hope. Joy. Sorrow for Theresa. Guilt for being happy in the face of Nicholas’ tragedy.

“Do you want this, to take him in, Elvis?” you ask, prompting him to look up at you once more. You pray you know the answer.

“Of course, I do. I’m his father. He’s my son,” he says, as if the unfamiliar words have finally landed and he believes them. Then his signature 1,000-megawatt crooked smile spreads across his face. “I have a son! We have a son!” he adds, proudly.  

Elvis jumps up, grabbing you by the waist, spinning you around until the room tilts on its axis. You laugh breathlessly, arms locked around his neck, wondering how in the world you’ve managed to get here after all this time, in the most unlikely of ways.

A son.

When he sets you down, he looks at you, grinning from ear to ear with an unbridled passion like you’ve never seen from him before. It’s not sexual, and it’s different from the passion he has for his music. It’s the love of a new father, you realize, something you never thought you’d get to see. It makes your heart swell uncontrollably.

“Are you absolutely positive this is what you want, lil’ mama?” His questioning eyes search yours as he cups your face, his fingers catching in the blue scarf in your hair. The pet name suddenly takes on a whole new meaning, releasing butterflies in your stomach.

Excitement has your heart racing and your breath short, but you beam, winking, “Oh, I’m one thousand percent positive, Daddy.”

Elvis kisses you deeply, as though he’s merging with you, engulfing you. It takes your breath away completely.

“We have a son,” he whispers, smiling against your mouth. “Let’s go get our son.” There’s something in the way he includes you in this, a pointed clarity that you are not an outsider because you aren’t Nicholas’ biological mother. No, he’s telling you in no uncertain terms—this is your boy as much as he is mine.

And after so many years thinking it could never be, it finally, truly hits you, without a doubt:

I’m going to be a mother.

*

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

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[astrologylunadream]

💘🌸Pac readings masterlist🌸💘

List of all my themed readings♡

I'm also taking recommendations for future reading so don't be shy to ask! :3

💗Soft pac readings list💗

•Messages From Your Soulmate!💌🍂🎀(Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•How Do They Feel About You?🧸🍨🌸(Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Are They Attracted To You?💋🌺🌹(Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•What They Think of You 💬🍑🍨 ໒꒱˖˚.(Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•You and Your FS as Parents 🍼🩷✨️(Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•What They're Missing With You!💅🎀✨️(Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•How Their Higher Self Feels About You 💍💎🩷(Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Do They Have Romantic Feelings for You? 🫧🌸💋(Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•What Type of Lover Would They Be? 💌🍓🖤 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Your Person's POV of You 👀🌸🎀 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•What About You Makes Them Blush? 💝🥰🎀 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Everything About Your Future Spouse +Traits & Initials 🌹👤💍 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•How Your Person Would Describe You🍨🗣💭 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Their Feelings for You This Month 💌🖤💬 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•What They Want for Christmas?💌🎀🎄 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•How They Want to Spend the Holidays With You 🛷⛄🧣 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Your Next Long-term Friendship🍒💄♥️ (Pick a card/Tarot reading)

•Everything Your Person Loves About You♡🧁🍇🖤 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Sweet Messages From Your Person ୧⍤⃝💌🍰🍨🎀 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•How This Connection Feels You vs Them👥🔗♡ (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Someone Wants To Comfort You Right Now📱🌪🖤 (Pick a card/Tarot reading)

•What They Want For This Connection🔮🌠(Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Who am I destined to love?💌☁️🔗 [Soulmate reading] (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Who is in love with you +why?🧸🍑🌸♡ (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Your Crush's Biggest Insecurities💌😰💧 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Your First Date with Them♡🍰🌹☕ (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Channeled Messages From Your Person💌🔥💟 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•When will I find love?💗⏳🌙 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Your Crush's Biggest Secret?!🤫💖⁉️ (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•What does your crush think of you?🌸💕 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

🖤Dark pac readings list🖤

•How Your FS Handles Conflict With You 🗣💬💢(Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•How They Want to Please You [SPICY] 💌🌹🫦 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Is this a healthy connection?🤔⚠️✂️ (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•What They Fantasize Doing With You🕹💋⛓ [SPICY] (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Their Deepest Desires of You💀🔞🖤 [SPICY] (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•What They're Keeping from You🕸🕷👤 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•Their Hidden Fantasies of You🥵👅🖤 [SPICY] (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

•How they will become obsessed with you 💋🧲🖤 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

[missmaywemeetagain]

💗🧣💗

forever wishing i was this girl in august of 1969 🎀🤍✨💗🌷

[siriustaylorsversion]

A Taylor Swift x reader social media au PLEASE! I know that you're a swiftie so maybe the release of midnights with songs being about the reader and the reader also being a singer. face claim- selena gomez?

oh my god!! i have the best idea and as always... taylena>>>> requests open enjoy!

PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

𝖘𝖍𝖊'𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖔𝖜𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙

taylorswift

taylorswift Midnights, the stories of 13 sleepless nights scattered throughout my life, will be out October 21. Meet me at midnight. liked by yourname.official, blakelively and 8,135,006 others.

yourname.official i say that's my baby and i'm proud 🥺

taylorswift 💕 forever.more their friendship >>>>>> tay.y/nslover they are my favorite thing in the whole world istg!

blakelively i heard it before you did ;)

yourname.official i was there DURING the process y/n_sink wait they were toGETHER?! sadist.sinks oh my god, I'M HEALED

tomholland2013 you guys did not just hear the scream that @yourname.official just scrumpt.....

y/n.official it'S TS10 STFU- tay.y/nforevermore they're like siblings 😭

yourname.official

yourname.official i am so so honoured to be able to say that i will be featuring in a song with my heart (my hips, my body, my love) @taylorswift... trust me, you're all not ready for this. remember it. october 21st. liked by taylorswift, zendaya and 5,09,800 others.

taylorswift this has to be my favorite song... not only because it is the best on the album but because it has the most talented artist i've ever met in my life...

yourname.official i loVE YOU- forever.more the MUSIC INDUSTRY called it the best song? okay, HOW LONG IS OCTOBER 21ST GONNA TAKE??!! SHEAKWDBGJEDBEFKJSHF

blakelively new favorite song???

tomholland2013 you've bribed her haven't you? YOU? BEST SONG?

yourname.official oh hush, you're just jealous. zendaya atleast she figured out how you get the girl... y/n.sink wHOT?

e!news

e!news "she's my best friend, and means the most to me in the world... being able to make music with her would be the greatest blessing ever i mean, she's TAYLOR SWIFT, i guess everyone has a girl crush on her!" - y/n y/l/n, 2019

"oh she's my favorite person in the world, she owns my heart. i love her so so much... i could never have come here without her."

" i am so so honoured to be able to say that i will be featuring in a song with my heart (my hips, my body, my love)" - y/n y/l/n, 2022 liked by taylorswift, sabrinacarpenter and 1,09,800 others.

e!news after zendaya teased a 'how you get the girl' lyric in the comments of y/n y/l/n's new post, fans have lost it thinking the former best friends of more than a decade have finally taken a step forward.

taylorswift

taylorswift this is the BIGGEST thank you to all the people who've helped me in these past few years... jack, aaron, blake, ryan, gigi, mom, dad, olivia, merideth,benji, y/n and all the others who've stayed with me and supported me. midnights is officially out and i love you all so much! enjoy...

yourname.official oh my god, look at my talented gf 😌

forever.more GIRLFRIEND????????? blakelively oh, finally!! tomholland2013 taylorswift her?! taylorswift zendaya him?!

ememyers Can we talk abt her eyes?😭 or better her everything?😭💗

costataylorsversion omg i feel like a proud mom???????

snehit.13 more like she and y/n.official are our moms.... yourname.official okay, idk how that's so funny but exciting at the same time??!!

forever.more

forever.more Y/N CALLED BLONDIE HER WIFE IS THIS THE CONFIRMATION WE SO DESPERATELY NEEDED??? p.s. did you like midnights? (I'M IN LOVE WITH IT) liked by e!news, taylorswift and 300,405 others.

donna'sversion icons, queens, lovers everything and more!!!!!!!!

costataylorsversion 🧣💕💕🥺💘

ememyers Just heard it on a plane….. damn it was so raw and so honest!

satanicmoosic LOVE THIS DUO THEY'RE EVERYTHING OH MY GOD MY HEART IS GONNA BURST SWEET NOTHING?? MAROON?? SERENDIPITY?? THEY REACHED RIGHT INTO MY CHEST AND PULLED MY HEART OUT.

taylorswift

taylorswift didn't read the note on the polaroid picture... they don't know how much i miss her... liked by yourname.official, blakelively and 7,90,600 others. comments on this post have been limited

yourname.official

yourname.official if you kiss me would it be just like i dreamed it? will it patch your broken wings? liked by taylorswift, tomholland2013 and 5,09,080 others.

comments on this post have been limited.

part 2? maybe more for the tour? idk...

have a good day <33

[dalgifilms]

ႊ႐႑ၜ▱▰᭛ 🌐 🐻‍❄️ 🍡 ᭋ ᯾ ⃣ ↇ ⑴ ⑵ ⑶ ⑷ ⑸ ⑹ ⑺ ⑻ ⑼ ⑽ ⑾ ⑿ ⒀ ⒁ ⒂ ⒃ ⒄ ⒅ ⒆ ⒇┃┬ ┴ ○ ◌ ◍◎●◐ ◑ ◒ ◓ ◔ ◕ⓐ ⓑ ⓒ ⓓ ⓔ ⓕ ⓖ ⓗ ⓘ ⓙ ⓚ ⓛ ⓜ ⓝ ⓞ ⓟ ⓠ ⓡ ⓢ ⓣ ⓤ ⓥ ⓦ ⓧ ⓨ ⓩ ┅ ☙ ◼◽◾◥ ❝ ❦❧ ⣻ 괋 🪂🧣🦑 🍎 🛁 📨 🚃 💗 🎀 🧖🏻‍♀️ 𐧽 𐧤 𑆂 𑊝 𑠴 𑶓 𒁂 𒀥 𒈎 𒈓 𒈵 𒈡 𓌲 𓍱 𓍯 𓍼 𓏳 𓏔 𓐍 𓊬 𓈃 𖤛 𖭦 𖭣 𖭮 𖭣𖮆 𖭛 𖮎 𖼶 𖼪 𖼮 𖽐𖽷𖽒 🃏 🅍 🅬 🆓 🆗 🆙 🆛 🆞🈁 🈳 🉂 🉄 🈭 🈪 🏳🉅 🈤 🈬 🈭 🈮🈞 🈕 🈗 🈀 🈂 🆔 🁑 🁢 🀁 🀀 🀂 🀃𝇈 𝆘 𝅛 𝄞 𝄃 𝄂 𝄁 𝄀 𝀲 𝁵 𖧹 𖥞 𖥏 𖤦 𔗂 𓊌 𓊋 𓊆 𓊇 𓈓 𓈙 𓂋 𓂃 𓂅 𑱢

More symbol pack but this was one was left in my draft and i just noticed it TT

[unlicensedcardiologist]

Mfs when they find out autism is a spectrum: 😀😃😄😁😆🥹😅😂🤣😍😌😉🙃🙂😇😊☺️🥲🥰😘😗😙😚😋😛😝😜😏🥳🤩🥸😎🤓🧐🤨🤪😒😞😔😟😕🙁☹️😣😖🤬😡😠😤😭😢🥺😩😫🤯😳🥵🥶😶‍🌫️😱😨😰😥🫠🤫🫡🫢🤭🫣🤔🤗😓🤥😶🫥😐🫤😑😬🙄😯😮‍💨😪🤤😴🥱😲😮😧😦😵😵‍💫🤐🥴🤢🤮🤧😷🤒💩🤡👺👹👿😈🤠🤑🤕👻💀☠️👽👾🤖🎃😺😸🤲🫶😾😿🙀😽😼😻😹👐🙌👏🤝👍👎✊🤛👊🤏🤌👌🤘🤟🫰✌️🤞🤜🫳🫴👈👉👆👇☝️✋🤚🖕🦾💪🫱🫲🤙👋🖖🖐✍️🙏🫵🦶🦵🦿💄💋👄👀👁👣👃🦻👂👅🦷🫦🫀🫁🧠🗣👤👥🫂👶👧👩‍🦰👨‍🦱🧑‍🦱👩‍🦱👨🧑👩👦🧒🧑‍🦰👨‍🦰👱‍♀️👱👱‍♂️👩‍🦳🧑‍🦳👨‍🦳👩‍🦲👲👴🧓👵🧔‍♂️🧔🧔‍♀️👨‍🦲🧑‍🦲👳‍♀️👳👳‍♂️🧕👮‍♀️👮👮‍♂️👷‍♀️👷🧑‍⚕️👩‍⚕️🕵️‍♂️🕵️🕵️‍♀️💂‍♂️💂💂‍♀️👷‍♂️👨‍⚕️👩‍🌾🧑‍🌾👩‍🍳🧑‍🍳👨‍🍳👩‍🎓🧑‍🎓👨‍🌾🧑‍🏭👩‍🏭👨‍🏫🧑‍🏫👩‍🏫👨‍🎤🧑‍🎤👩‍🎤👨‍🎓👨‍🏭👩‍💻🧑‍💻👨‍💻👩‍💼🧑‍💼👨‍💼👩‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🚒👩‍🚒👨‍🎨🧑‍🎨👩‍🎨👨‍🔬🧑‍🔬👩‍🔬👨‍🔧👨‍🚒👩‍✈️🧑‍✈️👨‍✈️👩‍🚀🧑‍🚀👨‍🚀👩‍⚖️🧑‍⚖️🫅👸🤵‍♂️🤵🤵‍♀️👰‍♂️👰👰‍♀️👨‍⚖️🤴🥷🦸‍♀️🦸🦸‍♂️🦹🦹‍♂️🤶🦹‍♀️🧌🧝‍♂️🧝🧝‍♀️🧙‍♂️🧙🧙‍♀️🎅🧑‍🎄🧛‍♀️🧛🧛‍♂️🧟‍♀️🧟🧟‍♂️🧞‍♀️🧞🧞‍♂️🫄🤰👼🧚‍♂️🧚🧚‍♀️🧜‍♂️🧜🧜‍♀️🫃🤱👩‍🍼🧑‍🍼👨‍🍼🙇‍♀️🙇🙇‍♂️💁‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙆‍♂️🙆🙆‍♀️🙅‍♂️🙅🙅‍♀️💁‍♂️💁🙋🙋‍♂️🧏‍♀️🧏🧏‍♂️🤦‍♀️🤦🤦‍♂️🤷‍♀️💇‍♀️🙍‍♂️🙍🙍‍♀️🙎‍♂️🙎🙎‍♀️🤷‍♂️🤷💇💇‍♂️💆‍♀️💆💆‍♂️🧖‍♀️🧖🧖‍♂️💅🧑‍���👩‍🦽🕴👯‍♂️👯👯‍♀️🕺💃🤳👨‍🦽🧑‍🦼👨‍🦼🚶‍♀️🚶🚶‍♂️👩‍🦯🧑‍🦯🧍🧍‍♀️🏃‍♂️🏃🏃‍♀️🧎‍♂️🧎🧎‍♀️👨‍🦯🧍‍♂️👫👭👬👩‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👩💑👨‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍👩‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👧👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👦👨‍👩‍👧👨‍👩‍👦👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨💏👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍👩‍👧👩‍👩‍👧‍👦👩‍👩‍👦‍👦👩‍👩‍👧‍👧👨‍👨‍👦👨‍👨‍👧👨‍👨‍👧‍👦👨‍👨‍👦‍👦👨‍👨‍👧‍👧👨‍👦‍👦👨‍👧‍👦👨‍👧👨‍👦👩‍👧‍👧👩‍👦‍👦👩‍👧‍👦👩‍👧👩‍👦👨‍👧‍👧🪢🧶🧵🪡🧥🥼🦺👚👘🩱👙👗👔🩳🩲👖👕🥻🩴🥿👠👡👢👞👟🥾🪖⛑👒🎓🧢🎩🧣🧤🧦👑💍👝👛👜💼🎒🧳👓🌂🥽🕶❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍💖💗💓💞💕❣️❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥💔💘💝♡♥︎❥❦❧☙❢এლდღɞʚෆᰔᩚᰔঞଓᜊᥫ᭡ꨄஐᦗ🐶🐱🐭🐹🐰🦊🐻🐼🐻‍❄️🙈🐵🐸🐽🐷🐮🦁🐯🐨🙉🙊🐒🐔🐧🐦🐤🐣🐥🐝🦄🐴🐗🐺🦇🦉🦅🦆🪱🐛🦋🐌🐞🐜🪰🪲🪳🦖🦎🐍🐢🦂🕸🕷🦗🦟🦕🐙🦑🦐🦞🦀🐡🐠🐟🦓🐆🐅🐊🦭🦈🐋🐳🐬🦍🦧🦣🐘🦛🦏🐪🐫🦒🐑🐏🐖🐎🐄🐂🐃🦬🦘🦙🐐🦌🐕🐩🦮🐕‍🦺🐈🐈‍⬛🕊🦩🦢🦜🦚🦤🦃🐓🪶🐇🦝🦨🦡🦫🦦🦥🐁🐀🌳🌲🎄🌵🐲🐉🐾🦔🐿🌴🪵🌱🌿☘️🍀🎍🪴🎋🪨🪸🐚🍄🪹🪺🍁🍂🍃🌾💐🌷🌹🥀🪷🌺🌸🌼🌗🌖🌕🌚🌜🌛🌝🌞🌻🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌙🌎🌍🌏🔥💥☄️⚡️✨🌟⭐️💫🪐🌪🌈☀️🌤⛅️🌥☁️🌦🌧💧💨🌬⛄️☃️❄️🌨🌩⛈💦🫧☔️☂️🌊🍏🍎🍐🍊🍋🍌🍉🍇🍓🍅🥝🥥🍍🥭🍑🍒🍈🫐🍆🥑🥦🥬🥒🌶🫑🌽🥕🥖🍞🥯🥐🍠🥔🧅🧄🫒🥨🧀🥚🍳🧈🥞🧇🥓🥩🥪🫓🍕🍟🍔🌭🦴🍖🍗🥙🧆🌮🌯🫔🥗🥘🫕🥫🦪🥟🍱🍣🍛🍲🍜🍝🫙🍤🍙🍚🍘🍥🥠🥮🍢🍡🍭🍮🎂🍰🧁🥧🍦🍨🍧🍬🍫🍿🍩🍪🌰🥜🫘🍯🧋🥤🧃🍵☕️🫖🍼🫗🥛🍶🍺🍻🥂🍷🥃🍸🍹🧉🧂🥢🥡🥣🍽🍴🥄🧊🍾⚽️🏀🏈⚾️🥎🎾🏐🏉🥏🪃🏏🥍🏑🏒🏸🏓🪀🎱🥅⛳️🪁🛝🏹🎣🤿🥊🥋🏂⛷🎿🥌⛸🛷🛼🛹🎽🪂🏋️‍♀️🏋️🏋️‍♂️🤼‍♀️🤼🤼‍♂️🤸‍♀️🤸🏌️‍♀️🤾‍♂️🤾🤾‍♀️🤺⛹️‍♂️⛹️⛹️‍♀️🤸‍♂️🏌️🏌️‍♂️🏇🧘‍♀️🧘🧘‍♂️🏄‍♀️🏄🏄‍♂️🚣‍♂️🚣🚣‍♀️🤽‍♂️🤽🤽‍♀️🏊‍♂️🏊🏊‍♀️🧗‍♀️🧗🧗‍♂️🚵‍♀️🚵🚵‍♂️🚴‍♀️🚴🚴‍♂️🎫🎗🏵🎖🏅🥉🥈🥇🏆🎟🎪🤹‍♀️🤹🤹‍♂️🎭🩰🎨🎬🪗🎺🎷🪘🥁🎹🎼🎧🎤🎸🪕🎻🎲♟🎯🎳🎮🎰🧩🚗🚕🚙🚌🚎🏎🚓🚑🚒🩼🦼🦽🦯🚜🚛🚚🛻🚐🛴🚲🛵🏍🛺🛞🚨🚔🚍🚝🚞🚋🚃🚟🚠🚡🚖🚘🚄🚅🚈🚂🚆🚇🚊🚉✈️🛶🚁🛸🚀🛰💺🛩🛬🛫⛵️🚤🛥🛳🚢🛟⛴⚓️🪝🗼🗽🗿🗺🚏🚥🚦🚧⛽️🏰🏯🏟🎡🎢🎠⛲️⛱🏖🛖⛺️🏕🗻🏔⛰🌋🏜🏝🏠🏡🏘🏚🏗🏭🏢🏬🏣🏛💒🏩🏫🏪🏨🏦🏥🏤⛪️🕌🕍🛕🕋⛩🛤🛣🗾🌆🌇🎆🎇🌠🌄🌅🏞🎑🏙🌃🌌🌉🌁⌚️📱📲💻⌨️🖥🖨🖱🖲📸📷📼📀💿💾💽🗜🕹📹🎥📽🎞📞☎️📟📠📺🕰⏰⏲⏱🧭🎛🎚🎙📻⌛️⏳📡🔋🪫🔌💡🔦🕯🪙💷💶💴💵💸🛢🧯🪔💰💳🪪💎⚖️🪜🧰🪛🔧🧱🪤⚙️🔩🪚⛏🛠⚒🔨⛓🧲🔫💣🧨🪓🔪🗡⚔️🧿📿🔮🏺⚱️🪦⚰️🚬🛡🪬💈⚗️🔭🔬🕳🩻🩹🩺🧹🌡🧪🧫🦠🧬🩸💉💊🪠🧺🧻🚽🚰🚿🛁🛀🧼🚪🗝🔑🛎🧴🪣🧽🪒🪥🪑🛋🛏🛌🧸🪆🖼🪞🪟🎊🪅🪄🎀🎏🎈🎁🛒🛍🎉🎎🏮🎐🪩🧧✉️📩📨📫📪🪧🏷📦📤📥💌📧📬📭📮📯📜📃📄📑🧾📇🗑📅📆🗓🗒📉📈📊🗃🗳🗄📋📂📁🗂🗞📰📖📚📙📘📗📕📒📔📓🔖🧷🔗📎🖇📐📏🧮📌✏️📝🖍🖌✒️🖋🖊✂️📍🔍🔎🔏🔐🔒🔓❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍⚪️⚫️🟤🟣🔵🟢🟡🟠🔴🟥🟧🟨🟩🟦🟫⬛️⬜️❤️‍🩹❣️❤️‍🔥💔🏿🏾🏽🏼🏻💕💞💓💗💖💘���💟☮️☦️☯️🕎🔯✡️☸️🕉☪️✝️🛐⛎♈️♉️♊️♋️♌️♍️♎️⚛️🆔♓️♒️♑️♐️♏️🉑☢️📴📳🈶🈚️🈸🈺🈷️✴️🈲🈹🈵🈴㊗️㊙️🉐💮🆚🅰️🅱️🆎🅾️🆑🆘❌⭕️🛑🚳🚯🚷♨️💢💯🚫📛⛔️🚱🔞📵🚭❗️❕❓❔‼️🔰⚜️🔱🚸⚠️〽️🔆🔅⁉️♻️✅🈯️💹❇️✳️❎🌐💠🈳🛗🅿️♿️🚾🏧💤🌀Ⓜ️🈂️🛂🛃🛄🛅🚹🚺🚼⚧🔡🔤ℹ️🔣🈁📶🎦🚮🚻🔠🆖🆗🆙🆒🆕🆓0️⃣1️⃣🔟9️⃣8️⃣7️⃣6️⃣5️⃣4️⃣3️⃣2️⃣🔢#️⃣*️⃣⏏️▶️⏸⏯⏹⏺🔽🔼◀️⏬⏫⏪⏩⏮⏭➡️⬅️⬆️⬇️↗️↘️↙️↖️↕️🔄🔂🔁🔀⤵️⤴️↩️↪️↔️🔃🎵🎶➕➖➗✖️🟰♾️🔛🔙🔚👁‍🗨®️©️™️💱💲🔝🔜〰️➰➿✔️☑️🔘🔺▫️▪️🔲🔳🔷🔶🔹🔸🔻◾️◽️◼️◻️🔈🔇🔉🔊🔔♥️♣️♠️🗯💭💬📢📣🔕♦️🃏🎴🀄️🕐🕑🕒🕓🕔🕝🕜🕛🕚🕙🕘🕗🕖🕕🕞🕟🕠🕡🕢🕣🕤🕥🕦🕧🏳️🏴🏴‍☠️🏁🚩🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🇺🇳🇮🇸🇦🇱🇦🇼🇦🇷🇩🇿🇦🇪🇺🇸🇦🇫🇦🇿🇮🇪🇦🇲🇦🇮🇦🇴

[narcissisticpdcultureis]

claimed signs offs:

-🫖

-☔

-🛸

-☕

-🥩

-🥃

-👾

-♠️

-💫

-🐾

-💌

-🫀

-🍄

-🦊

-abraham

-🧪

-T

-angel

-j

-hiroyuki

-🦷

-🎭

-🌃⛓

-💖

-🔱

-🎀🎉

-🥨

-💥

-🧪🕊

-🍃

-ghost

-🌠

-☁️

-🔪

-🐾🌼

-&

-🌾

-🛏

-❤️‍🩹

-🦋

-💫✨

-🪷

-👁

-🌤🍌

-☣️

-🍷

-☎️🌹

-🐛

-🍼

-🪖

-🐢

-🦉

-🌕🥃

-🫁

-🎠

-🌑

-🍰

-👑

-🚬

-☾

-🍷

-🫧

-🎀🦈

-🔥

-🫙

-🧪💫

-hal

-e.r.

-🌐🛸

-👑🐍

-furi

-🦆🦆🪿

-🎻

-⚙

-🌫

-🦪

-🧸

-🚀

-🏍

-🪦

-🃏

-🪽

-⚔

-🦖👑

-👑🦇

-🦷🫀

-🌞

-🌺

-🧁

-🍒🌸

-🪓🎀

-otacon

-🦂

-🖤

-💸

-🎧🦎

-❄

-🫐

-🌷

-🐦‍⬛

-🕸

-🦐

-🖥️

-🐲🐍

-🧟

-🦷🦴

-🦇🪦

-🍂

-☃️

-∰

-🥀

-🐍

-🐉💥

-🔷️

-🪼

-😻

-🤷

-🦜🪶

-🍄🧫

-🩻

-sel

-🕷🍒

-mr. t

-🌐⚔

-protagonist

-❔

-ax

-valentine

-:3

-🍛

-boss/anderson

-💒

-⭐🐾

-🖤✨

-🌥

-🐉☢

-💫 viscera

-🍦

-💉

-🐀

-🐶🐾🍃💨

-💥🧨💥

-🏐♟️

-⭐🌙⚡

-⚧️

-soup

-🥀🫀

-xz

- 🏆👒

-🪽👁

-💼👓

-🐺💜

-🪡

-🌸

-🍑🍖

-🥀🥩

-👑🥀

-❄🐺

-🎃

-🦇⚠️

-🦚

-💎

-🛥

-ℹ

-🩸🛁

-queenie

-📚🏚

-🐍☀️

-zero✩

-🌧hydra

-insanity♠️

-🌸🐉

-✗

-spiral

-🧃🪡

-📓🧪

-🌌👁

-☄‽

-🍰💜

-🌳

-🫀🫁🩸

-🩷

-🧁💭

-♛

-🏳️‍🌈

-🐺🪦

-🐍👑

-🧟‍♂️

-achilles👑

-🌨

-cedar

-🐍☀️

-king👑

-🪦🧸

-⚰🎀

-🐙🐝

-🪐🫀

-🌴🌈

-💗🎵

-🐈🔥

-🍄🫀

-🐾🥩🩸

-🫀🗡

-⦻

-🩻✝️

-🎪

-🍪🥛

-🐾🐈

-spike

-🍭

-⚠️📞

-💿🎸

-🕊

-🕯🫀

-🎼

-🕯️🏛️🪽

-🚬☕️

-🎒🌲

-💤🦜

-🪡

-☀️🕊✨

-LL⭐

-♾️

-💙💊

-🩸♱💋

-void

-🏙

-🩷🤍🩷

-🧣🍆

-star

-🍄🌺🏹

-👑🎻

-👽✌

-di

-🫶🧬

-☀💛

-🐛

-🔮🪄

-🦕🌊

-🪐

-🦋🔪

-🦷🌫

-🦜👁

-vanitypup

-feral

-🏮

-🕷

-🃏💉

-🍎

-😽

-💢

-🌙💞

-💾

-🕸🕷

-★🦷🌫

-starboy

-🔌

-🪽🫀

-❔🦢

-master frown💪

-dango

-🌂

-🎲🌃

-🎀

-🦷★

-solar

-⌛️

-mischa

-vandal

-🪶

-foxglove

-🩸❣️

-☣️🏮

-walmart logo

-🤖

-cypher

-⭐💫

-🎮🪶

-🐇🎀

-✨💚

-📺

-🐑💫

-ark

-🌱🍓

-🦉🌙

-🫀🐰

-⭐️🦔

-🌻🪼

-🍖

-⚡💀

-😵‍💫

-📺⚡

-sin

-z

-untitled

-🪰

-🖤🗝

-⌨

-🌋

-🩸📦

-🔥🧷

-🦐🕹️

-hex🩻

-oupy

-☀️✨

-🪐🫀

-🖨

-lamb

-🍑

-bunny

-rinny

-🪼🫧

-👑☀️

-sappho

-⭐🐈

-🪶🐦‍⬛

-🍎🌈

-🎢

-🪽✨💫

-🐍🕊️

-cana

-🍀

-🌑🔥

-👁️🪽

-🐊

-🖨️

-💙✨

-c-h

-💚💻

-🎸

-🌐🔧

-☀️

-🫀🧦

-0_-

-🔏

-🐻🌈

-xoxo🍌

-lacey💗

-midas

-🍌🪳

-🏝️🥁

-🏆🦋🩸

-🐁🕸

-🦈🍑

-🐾⚖️

-🌃 ⭐️

-🪻

-🍎🦇

-🦊☕

-🖥💞

-🫀🔏

-📫

-🍋⭐

-🫰🏻‼️

-🦈🤺

-🎶🎸

-the unknown system

-☎️🌹

-🗝️🍷

-🐭🧪

-🌘✨👑

-👻

-rose🌹

-🌈🎐

-♥️🗡

-🐇💥

-Z⭐

-📖📌

-🪲👹

-🌃🦋

-🗝️💫🛰️

-🧡👑

-☀️🦠

-🕷🩵

-⛰️🎸

-sacrifice

-🪐💗

-🎯

-🪽🤖

-🌈🩸

-🔪🩸

-👁️⚠️

-⚡️🎇

-🛰🌻

-💗🎵

- 🦷 📺

-💌☠️

-🎧🐈

-🪻💥

-🇧🇷🔺️

-🧣

-🤍💧

-🗡☄️

-🥀🐇

-🪶🎙

-🎀🌙

-🦋🩸

-🫐🪼

- 🗝️

-🦎

-🐩

-sn

-🧴🎥

-🍷🍰

-🍰🩸

-🌊🦇

-four

-🍬🌟

-🎩

-ena

-✅🌈

-🧟‍♂️🐺

-apollo

-💠🌀

-🍭🌟

-✝️🐇

-inno🩷✨️

-🎠📼

-❄️💉

-🐟💥 -🎩👁️📕

[wookiesoup]

space mother 💗🫡

it’s fall season 🍂🤎🧣

[missmaywemeetagain]

Great minds, indeed!! The fact that the wording is so close even…😂😍

Also NO MARINA NO MORE TORTURE!! (but actually, yes, yes please torture me)

Elvis Presley