#Fort Worth Wedding

[awesomecateringdfw]

The Ultimate Guide to Choosing the Right Caterer for Your Wedding.

It's a great day full of love, happiness, and celebration to be married. The food is one of the crucial components that has the power to make or break your visitors' and your own experience as a whole. Selecting the ideal caterer is an important choice that has to be carefully thought out. Utilize our comprehensive guide to choose the perfect Wedding Caterers in Bedford for your special day, ensuring that your feast becomes an unforgettable and enjoyable occasion for all.

Define Your Budget: Before diving into the world of catering options, establish a clear budget. Knowing how much you are willing to allocate for catering will help narrow down your options and prevent overspending. Let potential caterers know about this budget so they can tailor their proposals accordingly.

Understand Your Style: Every wedding has its own unique style, whether it's a formal black-tie affair, a casual beach gathering, or a rustic barn celebration. Choose a caterer whose style matches the overall theme of your wedding. A caterer experienced in your chosen style is more likely to understand your vision and execute it flawlessly.

Research and Recommendations: Begin your search by asking for recommendations from friends, family, and vendors. Word of mouth is a powerful tool in the wedding industry. Additionally, read online reviews and testimonials to gauge the experiences of previous clients. Look for caterers with a solid reputation for delivering excellent service and delicious food.

Check for Specialization: Some caterers specialize in specific cuisines or dietary preferences. If you have a particular theme or cultural background you want to incorporate into your menu, look for a caterer experienced in that area. Specialized caterers are more likely to create an authentic and memorable culinary experience for you and your guests.

Conduct Tastings: Once you've shortlisted potential caterers, schedule tastings to sample their offerings. The taste and presentation of the food are essential factors in making your decision. Pay attention to the quality of ingredients, flavors, and the overall presentation. Don't be afraid to provide feedback to help the caterer customize the menu to your liking.

Consider Flexibility: Wedding plans can be unpredictable, and having a flexible caterer is crucial. Inquire about their ability to accommodate last-minute changes, guest count adjustments, or dietary restrictions. A caterer who can adapt to unexpected situations will contribute to a smoother and more enjoyable wedding day.

Verify Licenses and Insurance: Ensure the caterer holds all necessary licenses and certifications required by your local health department. Additionally, confirm that they carry liability insurance. This not only protects you but also demonstrates the caterer's professionalism and commitment to safety and hygiene standards.

Discuss Service Staff: The service staff plays a significant role in the overall dining experience. Inquire about the number of staff members the caterer will provide based on your guest count. Discuss their attire, level of professionalism, and responsibilities during the event. A well-trained and courteous staff contributes to a seamless and enjoyable dining experience.

Review the Contract: Carefully review the catering contract before signing. Ensure it includes all details such as menu items, pricing, service staff, setup, and breakdown procedures. Clarify any uncertainties and make sure both parties are on the same page. Having a comprehensive contract minimizes the risk of misunderstandings on your wedding day.

Communicate Openly: Effective communication is key to a successful partnership with your chosen caterer. Clearly articulate your expectations, preferences, and any special requests you may have. A transparent and open line of communication will help the caterer understand your vision and work towards exceeding your expectations.

Conclusion:

Choosing the ideal caterer for your wedding is a big choice that needs to be well thought out and planned. You can make sure that the eating experience is enjoyable and adds to the overall magic of your big day by communicating honestly with possible caterers, researching your options thoroughly, specifying your budget, and knowing your style. If you take the time to select the ideal cooking partner, you and your guests will look forward to your wedding feast. Because the best catering services in Dallas make the guests happy which becomes a memorable thing for the wedding occasion.

[g2web]

@myfedretirementwerks @mybusinesswerks-blog

@alexbodyshop www.anthem-parties.com

[sgjeweler1]

At SG Jeweler, every ring is fully custom-designed specifically for each person’s individual style, tastes, budget, and creativity. We work within your budget to design your dream ring with any type of metal, shape, size of stones, and favorite elements. Custom rings at non-custom prices with the best quality.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley returns home to good news and an exhausted wife. Making plans for the future is something he lives for now, but thoughts from his week in Fort Worth seem to linger.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, masturbation, oral sex, smut, pregnancy topics, lactation kink

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Sweetheart," Bradley sighed. His heart rate finally calmed down after trying several times to reach you by phone. "How are you? How's the Nugget?"

You were quiet for a beat before saying, "We're okay." You did not sound happy, and it was probably because he'd missed several of your calls over the past few days. It wasn't like he meant to, there was just a lot of work and other distractions for him here. 

"Yeah? Not amazing?" He couldn't tell if your laugh was one of annoyance, so he plowed on as he stood from the steps outside the barracks, still sweaty from his run. "I'll be home the day after tomorrow, and then I'll take care of Rosie and everything at the house."

You sighed. "First thing we need to do when you get home is talk."

Bradley froze, brow creased in concern as his hand froze on the door handle. "About what?"

Another soft beat of silence. "We'll figure it out when you get back."

"Figure what out?" He didn't know if you were intentionally being vague, but it was irritating him a bit. "Can't we just talk about it now?"

"Shit." He could hear Rose starting to wail in the background, and it sounded like you dropped your phone. "Roo, I need to go. She had another blowout. I love you."

"I love you, too, Baby Girl."

The call ended before he got to tell you about his week. He was hoping you'd ask him about work, but you didn't even check to see if his first few days fully engrossed in his new role were going well.

You were either stressed close to your breaking point, or something else was bothering you. He went back inside to hit the shower, but his thoughts lingered even when the hot water streamed along his skin. Like there was something he was supposed to remember. He couldn't focus on any one thing, which was irritating in itself. He was ready to head home and get back to work in North Island, but he also wanted to make sure he left Texas with everything in order. He and the admirals needed to make their final selections tomorrow, and then he would know who would be joining him in San Diego in a few weeks.

In his opinion, there were ten exceptional pilots here that would be a good fit at Top Gun. Indigo and Rex were at the top of the list with very promising careers ahead of them, and Bradley was looking forward to eventually joining them in the air.

He really wanted to get home to you and Rose, but he had to get through a dinner in his dress blues first. The young pilots would probably be surprised when he finally joined them for a drink.

When he eventually got into bed, he looked through all of the pictures of his daughter on his phone. There were hundreds of them, which seemed impressive for someone just a few months old. Then he scrolled through wedding photos. And then honeymoon photos, not all of which were rated PG.

"Oh, I remember that night," he murmured to himself when he got to a beautiful collection of pictures of you with your ass in the air, looking back at him over your shoulder. "I remember it very well."

Jesus. You looked so good in these photos, it was absolutely insane. Even the PG ones were hotter than hell. But when you wore that red bikini? Perfection. And now he was hard and already searching for the video you and he made together many, many months ago.

He jerked off in the extra long twin bed, getting harder as he watched the recording of him spanking you and calling you his filthy slut. Then he came all over his abs, thinking about how many times he took you rough in his barracks room in San Diego early on in your relationship. When he thought about the Craftsman house he bought for you more than for himself, he couldn't stop smiling. You made it the first home he had since his mom died. And now he had a daughter.

Counting his blessings was pointless when he knew they all came from you. One more long day and he'd be home with his family. He couldn't stop yawning as he cleaned himself up, and he passed out for the night as soon as he was under the covers.

The next day was a flutter of activity. There was a classroom session in the morning that Bradley had to lead. He wasn't used to talking so much and actually found it exhausting. And everywhere he looked around the room, he could feel indigo eyes on him.

Then the afternoon was filled with flight analysis which solidified in his mind the pilots he wanted to select. After a quick conversation with the admirals when everyone else was dismissed, they were all in agreement.

Later that night at dinner, Bradley got to announce to everyone who had been chosen. There were definitely some unhappy expressions, but he was met with Indigo's smile as she shook his hand after the champagne had been served.

"Congratulations," he told her, juggling his champagne flute to his other hand. 

"Lieutenant Commander," she replied. "You'll have to let me in on the secret of the best bar in Coronado so I know where to hang out in a few weeks. You found the best one here on your own, after all."

He had to chuckle. He hadn't been back to that bar since his first night in Texas, despite the best efforts of some of the officers. "I have no doubt you'll find it without my help."

She released his hand, eyes roaming his face before settling on his mustache. "I'm sure I will. Are you sticking around for another drink?" she asked hopefully when he set his empty glass on a passing tray.

"Early flight tomorrow morning," he shrugged. "And I'm still not used to this time zone, so I shouldn't. I don't want to miss it."

She nodded once as he turned to leave, and her parting words stuck in his mind. "I can't wait to see you at Top Gun, Lieutenant Commander."

Bradley was going to have to keep an eye on her. He didn't want her trying to gain any sort of advantage over the others. Her gaze was warm on his back as he headed to the silent barracks alone.

--------------------------

The flight to San Diego was turbulent. You would have hated it, but Bradley slept the whole time like a pro. He should have spent the time reading his notes for work on Monday, but he decided it was more important to get a nap in so he could let you rest for the weekend. He had everything planned out on his mind, including making dinner tonight and taking Rose and Tramp for a beach walk tomorrow. That would give you sufficient time to rest.

He was expecting you to look worn out, but when he rushed through baggage claim to find you, he was still surprised by what he found. Rose was crying in your arms, and you looked on the verge of tears yourself. You were wearing one of his ratty shirts he reserved for days he was doing yardwork, and you had on his sweatpants which were rolled up and tied at your waist.

"Baby Girl," he called out, drawing your gaze to his. There was spit up on the burp cloth draped over your shoulder, and Rose seemed to cry louder the closer he got. "Are you okay?"

When you started nodding, it quickly turned into you shaking your head as he got close enough to wrap his arms around both of you. Bradley was immediately lost in the sweet smell of his daughter as he buried his nose against her fuzzy hair and inhaled. He let his lips trail soft kisses along her forehead before taking her from your arms.

"Tell me what's wrong," he whispered, kissing your lips. "Tell me so I can fix it."

He hushed Rose and kept his face close to yours as you cried softly. "Nothing's wrong. Or maybe... I don't know, Roo. I'm fucking pregnant," you sobbed.

Surely he'd misheard. "What did you say?" he gasped, arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you in tighter as you cried and nodded. "You're seriously pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Holy shit." A dizzying smile curled along his lips. "Hell yes!" This was incredible news as far as he was concerned, but you were still crying as your face came to rest against his chest. Then his stomach lurched, because he'd missed several of your calls this week. You must have known for days as you'd been trying to reach him.

He bounced Rose gently in the crook of his arm, listening to her cries soften until she settled against him as well. "Sweetheart. You're not happy about this?"

Your tear streaked cheeks drew his lips as you looked up at him. "I don't know, Bradley," you whispered, voice harsh. "I just don't know what to think at all. I'm sure it happened in La Jolla, when I was supposed to be on the pill."

When your voice broke on a fresh sob, Bradley led you toward his duffle bag which had appeared on the baggage carousel, and he scooped it up seamlessly. Somehow he kept both of his girls close all the way to your red Bronco, his heart hammering the whole time. He was obsessed with his role as a father, and to him this was a best case scenario. He just needed you to understand how he felt about this.

After buckling Rose into her car seat, she was immediately asleep. Then he laced his fingers with yours, leading you around to the passenger side door, kissing your forehead.

"I love you, Sweetheart," he promised, tipping your face up to meet his eyes. "And I'd love another baby. Is this what we needed to talk about?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "This week was so long, and Rose has been miserable. And I could barely reach you on the phone, and-"

"I'm home now. Let me take care of my family." He let his hand trail down to your belly as he kissed you hard.

Once you were buckled in as well, you were sound asleep before Bradley had the Bronco out of the airport loop. By the end of the weekend, he would have your doubts about baby number two erased, replaced with the joy he felt over growing his family. 

-----------------------------

You weren't sure how he managed to get both you and Rose inside the house without you waking up, but he did it. Hours later, you rolled over in bed, eyes cracking open when you heard Bradley playing with the baby in the living room. Your whole body ached from exhaustion, but it was your tender breasts that sent you to find them so you could get some relief.

The fact that you still didn't know how you felt about the positive pregnancy test now that Bradley knew about it as well just added to your fatigue. It was almost too much to consider at the moment. Another baby. Another smaller baby crying at night. A chorus of cries, and two babies spitting up.

When you found your shirtless husband laying on the floor with Rose giggling as she balanced on his chest while Tramp licked his face, you couldn't help but smile. He was singing a ridiculous song and tickling her sides. You felt guilty for being so scared about having a second child when you let your fingers rest on your tummy and watched him. He was a natural. Sometimes you felt like you were struggling through parenting, but Bradley made it seem so easy.

"I know it's a lot of responsibility for someone so small, but you're already getting your first rank promotion," he murmured, leaning up to kiss her cheek. "Big sister Bradshaw, you need to report for duty next year."

When you found yourself laughing, Bradley met your eyes and smiled. "How was your nap, Mommy?"

"I feel a lot better," you replied, yanking your shirt over your head, drawing your husband's gaze to your chest as you unhooked your bra. "How did you get her to calm down?"

Bradley looked a bit dazed as he stared at your bare chest. "The Nugget just missed me," he murmured, breathing a little heavy. His cheeks were tinged with pink as you reached for Rose to feed her. "Holy fucking shit, Sweetheart. We're having another baby." You nodded a bit helplessly, feeling so overwhelmed as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as you were sitting on the couch. "Two Nuggets," he said, petting Tramp as he stood. "And another year or more of my wife lactating."

You were dreading the weight gain and nausea and lack of sleep, but when he looked at you like this, it was hard to feel unappealing. Bradley's eyes were absolutely fixed on the beads of milk rolling down to your belly as Rose eventually switched sides.

"Can I have a turn when she naps?" he rasped, adjusting his gym shorts, absolutely unashamed. "It's been a week. I need it."

Soon enough, you had him in bed, practically curled up on your lap with his lips all over your breasts. "We're supposed to be talking about plans for another baby," you whispered, loving the scrape of his mustache against your skin. "I have a lot of concerns."

Bradley moaned, releasing you with a soft pop. "We can talk while I enjoy you," he promised. "What are you concerned about?"

He ran his nose along your taut nipple, and you moaned his name. "Bradley. One baby is expensive. How are we going to manage two? And we'll need to get another crib. And I have to make an appointment with Dr. Morris. And I can't believe you got me pregnant again while Rose is still a baby."

His lips grazed along your sensitive skin, and you were helpless to do anything but let your fingers thread through his hair. "What's so hard to believe?" he whispered. "We worked at it for months to have Rose, so this seems fair. And it's not like I can keep my dick out of your pussy. It was bound to happen whether you missed a pill or not." His tongue was warm as he lapped at you, his big hand splayed low on your belly. "I couldn't be fucking happier."

"Bradley," you gasped, back arching at his touch.

"We'll figure it out. I promise," he crooned. "Two babies. I'm so in love, Baby Girl. And you'll be nice and round again soon. Holy hell."

You didn't want to point out that your belly was still chubby and your hips were still round. Not when he was praising everything about you and the situation the two of you were caught up in. Two babies. Two. He was whining your name and rubbing himself against you, and next thing you knew, he had you on your back, legs flung over his shoulders. 

He ate your pussy, taking his sweet time about it while his thumb traced your tattoo. He drew out your orgasm slowly. His lips were latched onto your clit as his big hands kept you spread wide. "Missed you. Love you," he hummed, kissing his way along your slick. "Making me a Daddy all over again, Sweetheart."

"Roo," you whispered, keeping him where you needed him with your hands in his hair. "Daddy."

You came on his face, pussy needy and clenching at nothing before he shoved his cock inside you. The feral sound you made as your orgasm intensified, gripping him as he groaned and grunted in your ear, was loud enough to wake Rose from her nap. But you couldn't stop when he made you feel so good you nearly blacked out.

"I love you. And Rose. And our perfect baby we haven't met quite yet."

--------------------------

By the end of the weekend, you were smiling more. The naps you were afforded by having Bradley back home definitely helped, he could tell. But you seemed more at ease with the idea of two children close in age the more you and he talked about it.

"We have some options," he whispered, kissing you as you snuggled up with him on the couch on Sunday night. The episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills was playing in the background, but he'd lost interest in it before it even started. "We can move Rose to the bedroom by the stairs, or we can turn that into nursery number two."

You crinkled your nose. "That's so far away from our bedroom."

"But we can't move Rose upstairs yet."

"No way," you agreed. "Maybe they can share a room?"

"Hmm. That would make it easier for Tramp to nap with both of them at the same time."

Your laughter made him feel so much better as he snuggled you closer. He could happily fall asleep like this until it was time to go to work tomorrow.

"Oh," you murmured, "I didn't even ask about your time in Texas."

Bradley immediately pictured startlingly blue eyes as you laced your fingers with his. "Was good," he replied, realizing just how much busier his life was about to become. A new role at work and a new baby. Students to teach and two kids at home.

"Tell me all about it," you murmured, stifling a yawn.

He found there wasn't much to talk about other than Indigo and Rex, and he didn't want to bore you. "Maybe I was a bit stingy, but I only invited ten pilots to come to Top Gun. Two will more than likely make it through the program. The rest... we'll see."

"Who are the two that will make it through?" 

Your yawns grew in intensity as you closed your eyes, and he knew you needed to get plenty of sleep. Bradley kissed the tip of your nose, figuring you would be asleep before he finished his sentence. "Rex and Indigo, but Indigo is the best."

---------------------------

Baby number two! The Nuggets are multiplying! Roo needs to keep his head in the game if he wants a happy wife. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 30

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[askzoosmellpooplord]

ok

go

... are you recording me?

yes

wow, awesome. this is superb.

y'know, you are such a pain in the ass sometimes i have to wonder, do you get off on it?

yes john

every time you get your panties in a twist i get this sensual rush through my body akin to the feeling of a big fat greasy fistful of bacon on a sunday morning

oh, cool.

that explains so much.

you're the worst friend ever.

aghh! you're going through a lot of unnecessary trouble trying to get me to start this stupid blog with you!

i mean, come on. everyone knows tumblr is for girls and people who got dropped by their psychiatrists and have no where else to complain.

you're exposing me to nutheads, dave.

and i know that's your forte but, i have this thing...you may be unfamiliar with it,

it's called having a life.

i don't have time to fit responding to internet weirdos into my schedule like you.

ok your royal highness

im sure you have a lot on your plate

what are you too busy sucking your thumb and shitting your diaper

what responsibilities could you possibly have all you do is sit in your room and watch crappy decade old movies all day

while your dad serves you a b list celebrity weddings worth of cake firsthand like a mother to her newborn son

your dad might as well have wished you were a girl with all that pampering you receive i bet you feel like a real princess

but hey man im not here to speak for him

why dont you ask yourself if you think youre so manly egbert

are you still recording?

yeah

hey guys! you're gonna get a real kick out of this one. go to https://dstrider.blogspot.com and hit ctrl f...

shut up

then you're going to want to type in the word...

shut up

THE WORD...

shut up

TURNTECHGODHEAD S-

s-

AID-!

looks like youre cutting out john

F- OR-

yeah dude your wifi is cooked

CK-

AH-

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh fine ill just do this with lalonde

...

you roped rose into this too?

yeah

well, FINE! god, i guess if you insist!

ask box open for reception.

[ynscrazylife]

could you write any fanfics or headcannons about the avengers doing family stuff? like going shopping altogether? with a the reader being the daughter of tony stark and something like y/n!stark x peter parker? just fluff

Domestic Avengers Would Include . . .

It would be difficult to get all the Avengers to go shopping at once but where there’s a will, there’s a way

The hardest to convince would probably be Natasha and Bucky but they love you, so they’d join you anyway

You and Wanda would take forever in the changing rooms (forcing Peter and Vision to hold all your stuff)

Thor would go straight for the food court, marveling at all the Midgardian food

Tony would probably go to any of the tech or expensive stores

Nat would browse and window shop with Steve and Bruce

Sam and Bucky would get into some fight and would nearly be kicked out

By the time you get to the court room, Thor would have all different kinds of food and candies

(Peter has to literally drag you away from the candy at a certain point)

I think this just goes to show that if you give them the chance, the Avengers are really a family and can be domestic

They all look after each other, but especially of you and Peter

Natasha, Wanda, and Carol are like older sisters/aunts, Steve, Bruce, Thor, Vision, and Clint are like uncles, and Sam and Bucky are like older brothers

Wanda always cooks. She and Pepper would teach you how to cook

The team all fight over Wanda’s cooking

At first, Steve tried to teach you how to drive

It did not work out

Next, Nat tried to teach you

(You nearly crashed into someone that day)

Finally, Bruce taught. He’s pretty chill so it worked out

The Avengers would also help you with homework. Nat has experience with helping Clint’s kids after-all

You go down to the lab to get Tony, Bruce, and Peter’s help for math

Steve and Bucky for history

Steve would def help with art (hc he’s an artist)

Carol would help with any space related classes like Astronomy

Vision would check your grammar and punctuation and spelling (he’d edit your essays)

GOING PROM SHOPPING WITH THE AVENGERS IS CHAOTIC

they all insist on seeing yours and Peter’s outfits and everyone has an opinion

(Your wedding day will be so much worse)

Wanda almost buries you with the amount of outfits she picks out

And they get so many freaking pictures

It’s a little insane how many pictures they insist on taking

“We need one of Peter opening the door.” “We need one of Y/N coming down the stairs.” “Clint, you’re in the background, move!”

They send you off in a limo paid by Tony

You and Peter have such a sweet and fun night

They’d also definitely go to your graduation

Tony pulled some strings to get all the Avengers tickets but finding seats next to each other was a challenge

They clap and cheer the loudest

And take you out for the best ice cream

Okay okay but . . . Movie nights

Sam insists on popcorn from the movies, forcing Steve to go out and get a million bags of popcorn

Everyone takes turns choosing movies

(That backfires when Bruce chooses a nature documentary and everyone revolts)

BLANKET FORTS

SLEEPOVERS IN THE LIVING ROOM

(Which you have to force everyone to do)

Going out on the roof and Star gazing

Which means you had to force Tony and Bruce to build you a telescope

It’s worth it though

The Avengers just being the best, most supportive family you could ask for

THERES SO MUCH LOVE THERE

❤️❤️❤️

[pan-flute-skeleton]

Winter Wonderklok 2024

Hello! And Happy Holidays my friends!

First of all, I must apologize to everyone for dropping this so late already. But I do have a very good reason. This year I have been in the process of planning my wedding which is coming up next month. It has consumed almost every part of my headspace and Wonderklok snuck up on me.

Second, I know this poster looks like crap. I am not an artist at all, but wanted to make this list stand out a little bit compared to a basic Tumblr note. Roast it for all its worth. Next year I aim to work with a great artist (TBD) to deliver a more dazzling display.

Third, since this is going up so late, I have decided to shorten the list and push it later. This takes place in the weird dates between Christmas and New Years, but feel free to post them in January if you don't have enough time.

Lastly, have fun with this! I loved everyone's contributions last year and I hope to see some good ones this year. Art, writing, pictures, playlists, you name it! Rock and roll with it. Best of luck and if you have any questions, comments or concerns, feel free to contact me.

Plain test

Dec 26th Snowball Fight

Dec 27th Ultimate Snow Fort

Dec 28th Warming up by the Fire

Dec 29th Bows and Ribbons

Dec 30th Preparing a Feast

Dec 31st Winter Animals

[peachetteprice]

Born For It | Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Enter: Rich-boy!Gaz who was never born into wealth, but rather, born for it.

Thankfully, his blagging skills were never subpar, as convincing the wealthiest blonde bimbo at a conference in Fort Lauderdale would have proved tricky had he not mastered the art of running his delicious mouth. It was, in his own words, piss-easy to convince the woman he was 'in love with' that he was, in fact, a very well-off, well-known auditor for numerous major tech companies, and he was, additionally, all too talented at forging the paperwork for a 2024 Kia Stonic in cerulean blue – that certainly did not cost him a month's worth of groceries to rent for two weeks – to prove that it was truly all his. And, goodness, thank the creator that his father was so devoted to owning three gorgeous, pin-striped Italian suits before he passed, otherwise he would have nothing prim and proper to wear on their first, second, third, fourth, and fifth dates! Well, before he devoured her on her velvet couch and stole her hand in marriage, of course.

Naturally, he takes to the role of pompous, spoilt, entitled husband like a moth to a flame, as he has an inordinate ability to stretch the truth with his long Ralph Lauren fleeces tucked at the elbows, VVS diamond-studded watches, and tinted Versace sunglasses.

Oh, but don't be fooled by the crass social act: the man knows a con artist when he sees one.

He doesn't spend long at the country club with a glass of red in hand, talking to Brian and James and Marcus and their wives Tiffany, Tiffany 2, and Tiffany 2.5, respectively, about the recent tax evasion scandal from Johnsons and Co. (and how they all might do it better without getting caught) before he spots you across the outdoor pool on a sun chair: the young, recently wed beauty with ample time left on your wrist to be doing anything with your life other than seduce poor, geriatric, twice-divorcée, once-widowed, thrice-Viagra'd Mr. Shepherd – or, more crucially – the vast riches he carries in those flabby jowls of his, just ripe enough for the taking as soon as that weak heart of his drops him dead in the shower on a cold Tuesday morning, months later.

It's a shame, really, that the old dog didn't put his conversation skills into the will, because it takes Kyle no more than three minutes of ogling to read the smudged guilt and lost desire on your face, and poses, to you, over a kiss on the knuckles and a well-timed whisper into your ear, the question of joining him one day for lunch in his large, supersized, monstrous mansion that hardly gets used by his married-to-her-work-first wife who, herself, would never think of Kyle wishing to screw another woman on the weekends to entertain himself in such a lonely... drab... suburb.

It does perplex you a little a first, especially when you aren't certain why he wants you of all the women at the country club, when every wife, waitress and pool girl would burst open their bras and dangle their naked breasts in his face at just a chance of that silver tongue on their bodies, because he's simply that irresistible.

Not only because he knows your golden secret to greed, and has been known to – again – run that scrumptious mouth of his to anyone he can throw under the bus for another grand or two, but because it's clear to anyone that dear-old Shepherd's cock does nothing for a pretty pussy like yours, and you desperately need to cream over his thick, severing, thigh-splitting one until you cum, to make up for all the flab he wiggles in and around your folds at nine in the evening before he conks out in his silk pyjamas – he has to wake up early to catch the morning run of his favourite radio show, don't you remember?

Though, you do agree that he is irresistible. In fact, you have to.

And you wouldn't tell on Kyle even if you could, even if he didn't have his wife's lawyer on speed-dial, due to that legally-binding, twenty-three page contract locked within a safe in your makeup drawer which clearly states that anything of yours from the inheritence – whenever your old biddie shoots the gun, kicks the bucket or collects his final paycheck, that is – is automatically his, too, as well as the properties in Toulouse, the estate in Dubai, the stocks and shares in Google and Facebook that only ever seem to be going up... oh, and that divine cunt of yours he laps up like a starved dog whenever his wife is away.

| Masterlist |

[rebecca24223]

Shoutout to the couple from Fort Worth that broke up and opened a spot for Tarlos’ wedding.

Hope they doing good, apparently not with each other, but doing good. 😂

[aconflagrationofmyown]

|| Memphis to Fort Hood

Timeline alterations: Spring of 1958

Theme: THAT ASKED FOR BABY ANNOUNCEMENT, sorta

So, so many thanks to all my darlings who I throw my ideas at and they in turn bolster my resolve and refine my daydreams.

Warnings: good ole fashioned 50’s misogyny, Elvis being rather poorly represented? -for the reasons of this being written as critique?…nothing explicit but themes of free use, subspace, paranoia and eating disorders (which ends up being morning sickness so no really big deal there, just wanted to be careful.

A note on the style of this particular interlude: One of my obsessions with this universe has been using multiple points of view and narrative styles, ultimately adding to my own expansive delusion that this AU really was the verified version of his life. 🤓 And see, if it had been we would have magazines and newspapers, speciations and interviews galore, all of which I’ve enjoyed fabricating in the past and intend to continue. Now I’ve cooked up something else, a faux cultural study on what would have been the massively studied and criticized impact of a couple this peculiar and idolized -Mrs. Presley and Other Martyrs:

Strangely, if one looks for the first cracks in a marriage that outlasted five decades, nine children, assasination attempts, adultery, rock n’ roll and the most publicized divorce of its time, one might find that the first fissure had begun to open by the Presley’s third week anniversary. Outlasted, that’s the key. But that doesn’t mean there weren’t things to outlast. The old curse of stepping outside Graceland and finding trouble found them early on, as did their tenacity to simply ignore and surmount the witch’s brew of criticism, ego and exhaustion.

It took 38 hours by train to reach Fort Hood from Memphis Tennessee in the year 1958. Time enough for legends to be made. Dynamics to be established. A couple dozen demons to resurface.

And impressions to be formed. Lasting impressions of herself by the scrutinizing public that Elaine Presley reportedly never forgave Elvis for -a remarkable instance of a grudge in a woman so notoriously absolvent.

At the start of the journey she boarded the train at Memphis a sheltered girl tucked under the arm of the most famous man on earth, her own face captured without obstruction for the first time by the press, wedding band flashing and virginal blush staining her features at the attention and the queries hurled at her. The most envied woman in the country hadn’t known she was wanted a month before and by the time she stepped off in Texas, Mrs Presley was the doe eyed subject and demure recipient of a hundred varied opinions, editorials, fan tokens and bouquets.

What her rushed wedding may have slighted Elaine Presley of in terms of a bridal fuss, this dutiful journey made up for in sheer abundance of notoriety. What her sequestered honeymoon had sheltered her from in terms of being tabloid fodder was more than made up for on the trip as Elaine Presley got paraded on the train balcony at each stop along the route by her beaming groom:

A sauve cad in a uniform who beamed at the crowd with a cocky leer that suggested much in regards to his reserved bride and was in stark contrast to the sober and tear streaked boy he’d been when he came up this way to say goodbye to his mama weeks before. This little couple and their little rebellion of a marriage was manic in appearance and in gaiety, and even the most charitable of well-wishers found the occasion they were celebrating a bit forced, a bit dire, a bit off kilter for something as sanctified and sober as matrimony.

This was compounded by the new groom’s attitude which seemed as eager to display the varied trousseau he decked this almost catatonically pliant girl in -with a change nearly on the hour- as he was to introduce his new wife to his nation’s worth of fans that crowded the rails as they hustled south.

As Hedda Hopper unapologetically noted in her column that week “…it makes a person wonder if this sensational canary of an entertainer is too proud of having conquered a sensible girl child into being his wife to realize he just married himself off the market. America’s daydream is now a taken man and no one in the nation seems ready for that, least of all him.”

Married, to Elvis Presley, was perhaps more of a reality than Miss Hopper and her column gave him credit for, although the old spinster might’ve been aghast if she knew what marital duties the young star prioritized over others. The folks who caught sight of the flushed couple at each stop might’ve had a suspicion. Certainly Elvis’ ever present entourage of childhood friends and relations couldnt hope to be left in the dark.

Even if the close quarters on the route, the thin traincar doors and shared meals were not enlightening enough, Elvis Presley gloated too much in being a new husband to possibly retain any mystery. Love drunk and determined to stay so lest panic or grief overtake him, his friends recall his unreasonable amounts of excitement and generosity in detail regarding his “lil wife.”

-And his skills as a lover, of course.

Nothing had changed for Elvis from his time on the road with these naughty friends of his except that now all his famous drive and obsession was channeled towards one rather overwhelmed teenage girl. One who had, in typical 1950’s fashion, promised to obey his every whim. Turns out, trapped in a train car for over a day with an insomniatic sex addict uncovers an astounding amount of whims that their more placid honeymoon at Graceland had kept at a low simmer.

Whether tamed by the supposed influence of his mother’s ghostly presence at Graceland or whether in a fit of gentlemanly restraint for an untried bride, Elvis Presley had, by all accounts, played the gentleman while at home in those first weeks of marriage. While happy and smug -so much so that the story went that when the colonel appeared at Graceland to assure himself that the secret wedding hadn’t happened, one look at Elvis and the girl on his lap assured him it had both occurred and been consummated- he had nevertheless been considerate, gentle and almost tutoring in aiding Elaine to adjust to her new life.

Trapped in the claustrophobic buzz of the train car speeding south to a life of regimented discipline and obedience in the army, the antsy rebel in him found his boredom and dread peaked beyond endurance and distracted himself with the new and ever captivating charms of his new wife.

Elvis Presley with a goal could be a dedicated and diligent man but without one he was a chaotic force of nature that could catch all those around him in a whirlpool of fun or an avalanche of insanity. Pursuing Elaine Presley had brought out the best in him and so intently did he peruse her with every traditional method of wooing a typical southern girl, that she had quite forgotten the more frightening aspects of his temperament that she and her father had been witness to before. She could be forgiven for thinking he had matured past such outbursts and compulsions he had been thrall to in his early fame. Subdued by grief and spurred by ambition to have her, he had been impressively restrained upon his return to Memphis and driven by a rededication of his life to the old values of his mama’s ambitions for him, he had managed to continue it into the first days of marriage.

The upcoming reality of life within the rigorous confines of Fort Hood was too strong for such flimsy good intentions. As was the oppressive reality of his mother’s permanent absence in his life. His love, which had always been a somewhat smothering thing that required as much as it gave, was needy yet inexpressive in those early days and according to his daughter Ella, who divulged some of her mother’s confidences in her own book, Elaine was yet to learn how terrified her young husband was of a future that most would have envied.

Scared of being alone, yet suspicious that his presence was merely being tolerated, young husband Elvis Presley had every hope he could train a young girl by conjugal powers alone to be loyal to him where others failed. In a fit of hubris and optimism, he chose for this amorous experiment the one woman in town who admitted to not being in love with him. This fear and frustration expressed itself in an appalling physical demand on her bodily attentions. One that their fellow train car occupants could not ignore yet found themselves incapable of preventing, bound by the antiquated respect of a husband's rights.

“I swear he’d not leave her alone for a full hour,” Red West recalled in his book, reflecting on the times he spent in the Presley’s entourage, “and he’d be back there with her for hours at a time, then pop out and then right back again. If he couldn't sleep then he didn’t see why she should.”

Billy Smith, his cousin and a man adamant about staying on Mrs. Presley’s good side over the years, would only admit discreetly, “He was utterly in love with her, had been for years and couldn’t quite pace himself once he got the green light, so to speak. He adored her and was in a bit of a state of shock that she was even better than he’d hoped, she was like the first thing to exceed his high expectations. She was very genuinely kind to him and he ate it up. On the train ride he was bored and it was like taking a bored kid to their favorite sweet shop. And Elvis Presley had a big ole bank account to cash in.”

Big enough, apparently, that by lunch of that day the ever proper young Mrs Presley, in her perfectly starched new outfits and watery lined eyes, was having trouble sitting still at table, much to the comment of guests and friends. After excusing herself early she went back to their suite. Elvis was seen following within minutes. Thirty minutes later the train stopped and Elaine Presley, in a fresh outfit and an uncharacteristic wobble to her stride was paraded by her husband on the balcony to the roar of envious onlookers.

The train moved on, she excused herself again, as did he moments later.

“We could hear them, it became like road noise.” Red West, long used to Elvis’ various rendezvous while on the road in the past took this marital overindulgence in stride, “Initially it was kinda a laugh and a grin about it with all the folks in the dining car, but then we could hear her tiring out, and he’d keep at it and it got a bit annoying, all her pleading and him going on about bein’ able to do anything he pleased with her. He’d come out and brag to us when we told him they were being loud.”

“He was very proud of how sensitive she was,” Joe Esposito does not bother to sound impressed himself when relating this confidence, “he’d tell us how she was a squirter and she got all sensitive real fast before he was even close to done and he’d just have to hold her and make her let him finish, sometimes make her keep going when she swore she couldn’t. He said he was training her to respond the way he wanted. It didn’t occur to him maybe she was made different than the ones he’d been with before, he just thought he was a damn good husband. Figure she just wanted a nap and maybe some Vaseline. Nobody dared to tell him to give her a break.”

Ultimately Vernon Presley ventured to do just that at breakfast the next morning, after his daughter in law had skipped dinner the night before and breakfast that day from a ubiquitous headache that was likely not an ache in the head at all.

“He was so timid about it as Elvis was in a mood, worn out and hadn’t slept, stabbin’ his eggs like they’d done him wrong.” Lamar Fike remembers the incident, “Vernon just spoke up real gentle like and says ‘son, why don’t you go easy on the little lady, she’s real fresh and delicate,’ Elvis just glared at him so he tried jokin by sayin’ something like ‘you got the rest of your lives for this, don’t gotta cram it all in today.’ Elvis didn’t even try to act dumb, he just got mad and stood up from the table and said ‘daddy, you mind your own business, reckon I don’t need lessons for how to take care of a wife, not from you leastwise.’ And that was a low blow, you could see it on Vernon’s face and like I said, Elvis stood up, with his napkin still tucked in his shirt neck, and went back there to her again like he was makin’ love to spite his old man. Ya just don’t tell Elvis what to do with what’s his.”

Charlie Hodge wasn’t there and in an admirable display of keeping in his lane only commented that, “Elvis told me they danced a lotta the way, had the old records on, trying to keep the cramp away. He’d get antsy on trips.”

Marty Lacker had the decency to at least be sheepish and a little apologetic about the times when relating his version of events, “Just a different time back then, ya know? Didn’t occur to us to step in. We’d say a thing or two but ultimately that’s between a husband and wife to sort out and back then wives just didn’t fuss. It all worked out, they sorted it. Elaine never breathed a word of anything and we wouldn’t think of saying anything to her. Not even after the little emergency, you just don’t talk about that stuff. It’s not fitting. Even Elvis knew that, he didn’t appreciate the advice or adminitions from his daddy. Braggin’ between boys us one thing but talkin’ about what goes on between a man and his wife beyond that it’s, it’s just, it’s not fittin. It’s just not a thing to be discussed, you know? Different times, man.”

The little emergency in question was a case of Elvis bursting out of the train car an hour or so after lunch on the second day in search of his paternal grandmother, old Dodger as the family called her, full of consternation that his young bride was unresponsive.

“I really think he rode her silly, that’s all there was to it.” Joe shrugs at this bold diagnosis, “He’d brag about how out of it she’d get when he would start again after she thought he was done. Said she’d space right out and start shakin’ and shivering and get plain stupid. I think he liked that, makin’ a smart girl feel dumb. He’d dress her up and redo her makeup and take her out like that in front of fans, and they all got the impression she was a little bozo. Then I guess he just kept at it one time too long.”

Elvis told Dodger that his wife was not fully concious, although his heightened concern was less regarding her insensibility than the fact that neither a light smack to the cheek nor a resumption of activities on his part could rouse Elaine like it had on previous occasions. Vernon dunked her head in a bowl of ice water with no success, Billy tried to give her aspirins but she wasn’t awake to swallow them down.

Dodger prescribed a drink of water for the young girl, a cold compress to the nether regions and a nap -sans husband. Disgruntled but terrified of losing yet another woman in his life, and with his own cheek stinging from his grandmother's wrath, Elvis Presley secluded himself to playing cards with the boys in the smoking lounge for the remaining three hours of the train ride while his grandmother watched over his bride and her precariously suggestible headspace.

“ ‘I done told her again and again to hold it if she gets so excitable after she comes that she can’t stand to take me longer. But she’s a hair trigger, couple stokes and she’s off, keeps comin’ all the same then acts like I’m skinnin’ her when I keep goin. I gotta finish man, what else am I supposed to do?” Red recalls Elvis bemoaning his bride’s hyper responsiveness like a martyr recounting his sentence -while wearing his signature sulky expression that did nothing to hide the smug pride beneath.

By the time Elaine Presley wobbled off the train onto the platform at Killeen Texas and stiff smilingly took her seat beside Elvis in a taxi to their little crackerbox house on base, the world at large had a firm opinion that the new Mrs Presley was a pretty little thing with dark features and a rosebud mouth, a nice figure and sweet charm but possessing a vacant sorta look to her. It suggested a gullibility so utterly untrue to her real nature that three decades worth of wit and shrewdness could hardly undue their initial impression of her.

Elaine Presley would ultimately have her revenge for such a first impression but it would cost her much in the process and Elvis Presley even more.

The buzz of press did not decline upon her arrival. With Private Presley busy soldiering all day, it fell to his young wife to sort the intricate social circle of his entourage and fellow soldiers, to manage the fanmail and contracts as well as set up house as best she could in such impermanent lodgings. All these precarious duties were stalked and documented beyond all sense, photographs of her and her choice of groceries dutifully printed for readers across the country to guess at what she planned to feed their idol for dinner. If the sharp glint in her eyes, captured on occasion when the intrusion became absurd, hinted at something beyond the vacant and ravished doll of the train ride, no one was eager to investigate. A sharp set to the mouth or a dangerous glitter in the eye got one called a bitch and it was better to be vacuous as a woman than to be venomous. So Elaine was caught smiling with her vegetables and spending her afternoons baking beneath a Texas sun while chatting with snide fellow housewives.

It was the first bootcamp for a lifelong grueling ordeal that Elaine Presley submitted to with grace and tenacity.

If her wit and her marital irregularities were glossed over by the papers in their eagerness to find the noble idyll amongst the immoral muck of rock and roll, what did not go unnoticed was the increasingly wane aspect of what should have been a rosy and glowing young wife. Shortly after arriving in Texas, Elaine’s already strained nerves seemed to have frazzled beyond small fits of fainting and what was once a private display of weariness kept between her and the implacable Dodger. Soon it became bouts of vomiting and exhaustion beyond any reasonable excuse.

The public noticed her figure grow slight and frail, as did Elvis. No longer was she slight but sickly instead, and a milky complexion was now waxy and unbecoming in contrast to her dark hair. The public were concerned for her, not for her health so much as for the future of the readership should her picturesque ordeals unravel further.

Battling his own preoccupation and exhaustion in the hard crucible of army bootcamp, Elvis’ one solace was the charming little haven he had created for himself with a wife and domesticity shipped in like so many plates and doilies. When this fairytale grew pale and bony and even the most cheerful of liars couldn’t convince him his “Tinkerbell” was fine, Elvis Presley grew increasingly paranoid of something fatal having cursed the women in his life. Frustrated at Elaine for allowing herself to grow so weak, his friends recall his behavior towards her vasciaiting from aching tenderness to angry remonstrances at her to eat and to rest and take care of herself. He even paced his own indulgences and begged her not to bring him the usual treats she’d sneak into barracks during the heat of afternoon. He pampered and berated, prayed and cursed.

None of these precautions were sufficient to build her up and alarmed beyond any reassurance, Elvis Presley packed his young bride into a car in the early summer of their first marriage and, having a five hour furlough from the army, drove her himself into the nearby hospital. The statement tossed to the press waiting outside was mild sinus congestion.

Twenty minutes later these two world wide famous young adults stumbled out in a daze of knowledge that they were about to be parents for the first time.

A severe case of twins -and the rigorous discipline of making them- having caused all the raucous.

No longer scared of abandonment, imminent loss or rebellion on his wife’s part, Elvis Presley softened considerably in the next months, the looming likelihood of a separation with his deployment softening him even further. It was the first case of children saving -and complicating- one of the most volatile and devoted couples of the 20th century.

By the first few weeks of the second trimester, Elaine Presley was both filled out enough and sufficiently cheery to regain the accolades lost to her by the press during her first. Finding few friends to be had amongst jealous soldiers' girlfriends and snooty Sargeant’s wives, as well as having been abandoned by most childhood companions after becoming mistress of Graceland, Elaine, never to be out maneuvered by bad luck, turned those publicized grocery store runs into social occasions, her growing belly eliciting advice and solicitations from wise old Texan grandma’s and rancher’s wives.

Accompanied by the stoically indomitable Dodger, Elaine could be found at geriatric swim classes at the local pool in a bid to stay cool during the heat of summer, at smoky poker games at Billy Bob’s honky tonk where she was the lone abstainer from the free flowing bourbon and became winner of a mechanical bull riding competition against a Navy Pilot.

It was a win for the infantry that night and even Elvis drank a cold one in celebration of her winnings that she spent on quenching the Hell on Wheels squadron at the adjacent saloon. Those Sargeant’s wives got somehow even more acrid after that.

Whether there was a correlation between this heated ride-off and said Navy Pilot’s face ending up black and blue the next day from some jealous young husband’s fist, was anyone's conjecture. Either way, Elvis Presley was likely too busy for such petty displays of insecurity, he was hiding in the lavatory most times to get away from his recently energized and insatiable young wife whose visits to Fort Hood soon became a byword and euphemism for something else besides visitation.

Altogether the Presley’s in Texas was an eclectic and occasionally damaging PR debut, but not without its merits.

The nation decided the new Mrs. Presley may have been a little short in the smarts department but she made pregnancy look fun again and that was rather charming and not a little rebellious, as was unapologetically marrying Elvis Presley right from under their noses. And Elvis? Well, it would be two long years before the world got any candid, civilian, unrepentant opinion out of Private Presley.

Hope you enjoyed! 💋

Tags: (let me know if you’d like to be added or retracted)

@paradsol000

@eliseinmemphis

@prompted-wordsmith

@ab4eva

@foreverdolly

@powerofelvis

@butlersxbirdy

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

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@peskybedtime

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Would the skeletons be down to watch movies or tv shows with a human friend? And what is their favorite genre?

Undertale Sans - An activity when he can just sit and do nothing? Count him in! He's a sci-fi lover, so pretty much any movie with aliens will please him. Bonus point if the special effects are terrible, he loves cringe movies.

Undertale Papyrus - Sure! He likes comedies the most, but he's happy to discover new things too. He likes everything as long as he can cuddle on the couch. He's a big fan of TV games too, especially quizzes. He takes them very seriously, he's counting points and he will annihilate everyone in the house. He can be a dirty player when he really wants to win.

Underswap Sans - URGH. Really? Blue doesn't like to just sit and do nothing so chances are you start the moving, he loses focus after ten minutes and goes to play on his phone lol. Choose what you want, he really doesn't care.

Underswap Papyrus - He loves this very much, and obviously, you're going to watch either a Disney or a Marvel movie. He knows them all by heart and he saw them 30 times each, but he loves them too much to not watch them again. His favorite things are movie marathons.

Underfell Sans - He likes TV shows where people are fighting for the stupidest thing. Like their wedding day, or a dinner, or because that crazy rich woman can't have a new pair of shoes when she has a billion already. He can't get over it. He loves to bitch with his S/O watching them.

Underfell Papyrus - He doesn't like horror movies but since he wants to impress his S/O he pretends it's his favorite genre ever. Then, he's not sleeping for three days because what the hell he has nightmares and he's scared you will get possessed and he doesn't want that. Worth it though if you liked it.

Horrortale Sans - He's not difficult, whatever you're watching is fine. Anyway, he's going to forget what the show is talking about midway so... He's just there for the free cuddles on the couch honestly.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's a romantic movies sucker, especially around Christmas. He can watch movies for entire days, crying and hugging his pillows (or S/O). It prevents him for working too hard as well when you notice he's too stressed because he can't stop watching them.

Swapfell Sans - He doesn't like watching TV very much, but he can exceptionally watch a movie with you. He likes the old classic ones. Above 2000, he will criticize everything and claim it was better before, which can get very annoying.

Swapfell Papyrus - He likes stupid comedies and funny TV shows, especially when the type of humor is absurd. He's a big fan. He's always finding the worst movies ever so you two can have a good laugh, like Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. You don't even want to know how he found that movie.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Only movies that win prizes because he's a snob. You swear he doesn't understand anything to what he is watching like you, but he's pretending very well. One day, you'll catch him.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He could watch cartoons and animes all day long so YES, please. He can even make some pop corn, and grab a blanket, and make a pillow fort! And then you stay there forever and you never leave!

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

The Strange Disappearance and Death of David Glenn Lewis

David Glenn Lewis was born on December 11th, 1953, in Borger, Texas. David married a woman named Karen Garret in 1982 and the couple had their only child together—a daughter named Lauren—a year later.

On Thursday, January 28th, 1993, David left work at the Buckner, Lara & Swindell law practice, stating that he wasn’t feeling well. However, his credit card revealed a charge made at a gas station later that afternoon. David also reportedly taught his class that night, which ended at 10 p.m.

The following day, Karen and Lauren left to spend the weekend shopping in Dallas. Although they didn’t see David before leaving, they didn’t find that especially concerning. They already knew he wanted to stay home that weekend, because his favorite football team—the Dallas Cowboys—would be playing in the Super Bowl and David was eager to watch the game.

It was during this weekend that David’s behavior took a turn for the strange. First, he was spotted by a friend from church frantically rushing through a Southwest Airlines terminal. David didn’t appear to have any luggage with him.

On Sunday, David’s red Ford Explorer was seen parked outside of the Potter County courthouse and a deputy sheriff witnessed a man matching David’s description photographing the vehicle. David returned home at some point, evidently, because the neighbors reported seeing his vehicle parked in the driveway that weekend.

However, when Karen and Lauren arrived home on Sunday, they found David’s wedding ring and watch on the counter and a load of laundry in the dryer. The lights and television were on and the VCR was still recording the football game. There were also two turkey sandwiches in the refrigerator, presumably prepared by David. The thing that was notably absent from the home, however, was David himself.

Nevertheless, Karen assumed that he had simply gone to watch the game at a friend’s house and that he’d be back soon. But when she learned the following day that David had missed two appointments—very out of character for him—she became worried and notified the police that he was missing.

Early in the investigation into David Glenn Lewis’s disappearance, police learned that someone using his name had purchased two plane tickets before he went missing. The first ticket was bought on January 31st and was from Dallas to Amarillo. The second ticket was purchased the next day and this one would take him from Los Angeles to Dallas. No one could explain what might have compelled David to buy these tickets, and since U.S. airports didn’t require a person to show their ID before boarding a plane in 1993, it couldn’t be verified that he was really the person who purchased the tickets.

Another unexplained detail that came out during the investigation was that $5,000 had been deposited into the Lewis family's bank account on January 30th. Unfortunately, it couldn't be determined who made the deposit. David’s Ford Explorer was soon discovered parked by the courthouse. His keys were under the floor mat and his driver’s license, credit cards, and checkbook were all found inside as well.

Later, a cab driver came forward to say that he had picked up a man strongly resembling David on February 1st and drove him to the Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport. The man in question appeared nervous and paid in cash from a wad of hundred-dollar bills he had with him. There were no further sightings of David reported in the Amarillo area after this.

David’s family didn’t believe that he had left voluntarily; they believed he was abducted. Karen said that he had received death threats in the past while working as a judge and that he’d begun to receive death threats once again just before he vanished.

At the time he went missing, David had been a defendant in a conflict-of-interest lawsuit that had been brought against him and several other attorneys, as well as a former client.

Ultimately, the authorities believed that David left Amarillo of his own free will and couldn’t find any evidence of foul play. They eventually closed his case in 2002.

However, on the night of February 1st, 1993, motorists witnessed a man walking down the middle of State Route 24 in Moxee, Washington, east of Yakima. The man was wearing military fatigues and boots. He didn’t appear to have anything else with him. A concerned driver turned around and attempted to warn the other motorists that someone was walking on the road. Sadly, they were too late to help this man, because, by the time they got back, he was lying dead by the side of the road, the victim of an apparent hit-and-run accident. The autopsy report concluded that he had died of injuries consistent with having been struck by a vehicle. Additionally, there were no drugs or alcohol in his system. The deceased, who had no ID, would be classified as a “John Doe” and remained unidentified for 11 years.

Washington State Patrol detective in Yakima, Washington, Pat Ditter, read the series of reports and started to look into a number of local missing persons cases, as well as John and Jane Doe cases, hoping to solve at least some of them. He noted that David looked very much like the John Doe in question, but a notable difference was that David wore glasses and the John Doe hadn’t been wearing any when he was found.

However, they still had the clothing he’d been wearing at the time of the accident and Ditter discovered a pair of glasses in one of the pockets. These glasses looked identical to the distinctive pair that David himself wore. Ditter was now convinced that they were the same person. A DNA test in 2004 would confirm that he was correct: the Moxee John Doe was in fact, David Glenn Lewis.

But how and why did he end up over 1,600 miles away from his home in Amarillo, Texas? Why was David, said to have very poor eyesight, not wearing his glasses that night? Why was he walking down the middle of a road at all? Many aspects of this case remain a mystery.

It’s also unclear why he was wearing military fatigues, as Karen was adamant that he didn’t own anything like that.

[sgjeweler1]

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[dragon-communion]

I'm bored and the acquisition of the legendary armaments bothers me so let's do something about that.

1. Dark Moon Greatsword- flawless, no notes, ideal wedding present.

2. Bolt of Gransax- flawless presentation. However, it feels weirdly easy to acquire, especially since it's been sitting in the middle of Leyndell for a few hundred years minimum. I don't know how I'd fix this.

3. Grafted Blade Greatsword- it's a gimmick blade and I really hate that I have to take it seriously. The weak stapled-on lore is a decent attempt at making it remotely relevant, and I like the fact that the Misbegotten stole it. I feel like there could be better presentation though, especially since it's a clans' worth of swords. Make me fight a coordinated clan of Misbegotten for it or something, drill in that theme of unity and revenge. Or ride the blatant reference and involve a dragon somehow. A fucked up grafted-scion style dragon maybe? That'd be fun. Why don't I have to fight a grafted enemy to get this thing?

4. Devourer's Scepter- It's just really weird that I can get this in Limgrave by killing a friendly NPC. If Bernahl's that important to Volcano Manor, maybe make him less vulnerable to our merchant-killing impulses? Give us a motivation to not instantly wreck his face for having bad stock, y'know. Some compelling dialogue. Maybe the ability to teleport out if we get him to half health. I don't know how I'd fix this but I want to at minimum have to work for a legendary armament rather than accidentally step on it. I didn't even know the scepter was supposedly special, I just went "huh cool" and shoved it in my chest.

5. Sword of Night and Flame- Speaking of accidentally stepping on weapons! Considering this one is pretty famous in PVP (and why aren't Moonveil and RoB on this list anyway???) I find it weird I can just trip on this sword. I don't even have to kill a guy for it. Give it to Moongrum or something, at least. Hide it behind a cool wizard puzzle, maybe add some kind of fun lock involving throwing an ice pot and a fire pot at a wall or something. I can respect having it in a chest. What I cannot respect is the utter lack of security. Make me use a braincell please.

6. Ruins Greatsword- I like that it's in Caelid, home of Gravity Fuckery and also Dragons. I think more could be done with that. Put it in some kind of research facility in Sellia, maybe earn it from Gurranq somehow, or even have it as an optional challenge for crazy bastards who want to continue Radahn's funerary games. I guess I don't mind collecting it from a Crucible Knight, or even that it's a missable item, but I just feel like it could be positioned somewhere better than Radahn's yard.

7. Marais Executioner's Sword- I approve of this. Am I entirely sure why the executioner's sword is legendary, and Godfrey's axe or Marika's hammer aren't? No. But in terms of acquisition, ripping it from the cold dead hands of the last guy slated for execution is pretty cool. The Shaded Castle is a cool setting too.

8. Golden Order Greatsword- It's lore-significant, looks incredible, and is directly involved with one of the endgame bosses. So please explain why I find Radagon's personal sword that he modified himself in a random cave. I don't care how cool the cave looks, did he drop it off a cliff after Marika accused him of cheating or something? The fact that we don't get this weapon in some sort of setting associated with Radagon is insane to me. Stick it in a fort behind a couple of guards at least. Y'know what would give this sword more impact? Receiving it as a quest reward from Miriel. Radagon's messy divorce sword, a traditional Carian betrothal gift twisted into a monument to Golden Order ideology- receiving it from Miriel, or showing it to Miriel, would be fascinating for character exploration. I wish we could've done more with the turtle pope in terms of exploring and investigating Radagon. Failing that, stick it in some kind of secret room in a library or study in Leyndell. Show me Radagon's office where he pored over Golden Order Fundamentalism and stick this thing behind a bookshelf somewhere like he's ashamed to own it.

9. Eclipse Shotel- I like the setting where we get it actually. I wish it wasn't five seconds away from a very angry ghost so I could appreciate the setting more, but the Church of the Eclipse definitely sets the tone. It could set more of a tone, but at least it's something. I want to know more about Castle Sol and this eclipse, because the ghosts are delightfully spooky and set the ambiance and I enjoy fucked up necromancy, but we don't really get much information. I would've put some sort of death blight enemy next to it, like one of those giant more priestly Wormfaces, along with some sort of astrologically significant structure for getting an eyeful of the moon. Make me believe they're doing weird celestial rituals up there. Who used the shotel, how, and for what? Human sacrifice? Back scratching? I am willing to forgive them for just leaving it on a table, since there's an exposition ghost nearby, but I can't quite figure out the relevance of the shotel in the grand scheme of everything else going on. Is it for killing the sun???