#Mexican theme party

[misssavannahbby]

A selfie never hurt anyone

[teejaystumbles]

My friend moved out and didn't want to take him with her, it's okay he lives with me now ❤️

[blue-da-ba-dee]

Had a pot luck at work today and I am in a food coma😂 Everything absolutely smacked😩

[wekillitwithfire]

jenny nicholson understands me and my love for theme parks and themed restaurants and themed hotels and essentially any heavily themed experience

[hylianengineer]

If you ever want to make your gluten-intolerant friends cry, make them eat at a Mexican-American restaurant.

[roomselfcontain2]

Luxury over standard chamber and hall Selfcontain visit website 1 single room for rent with pop TV console bullet proofs doors modern computerized shower in the bath room with kitchen furniture interior design located in a mini estate at rumuekini area in port Harcourt city rivers state Nigeria

[choco-aj]

y'all tell me why my choir teacher is having a "barrio" themed performance 💀 SIT YOUR WHITE ASS-

[vivwritesfics]

Tears Falling Down at the Party

Oscar and Y/N have their Halloween traditions. This year, they're apart and she has to make up for it.

Suggestive Themes

The Mexican Grand Prix just so happened to fall on Halloween weekend. Which sucked for Y/N who was used to having Oscar home for Halloween weekend.

They'd made a tradition of it. Buying a bucket full of candy and watching scary movies, living room, lit by pumpkins they'd carved together. Every year Y/N's uncle would have a Halloween party and the two of them would dress up to keep her cousins happy. It was always a couples costume, Y/N buying or making them while Oscar reluctantly came along.

This year there was no pumpkins, no candy, no Oscar.

He was in Mexico and Y/N was in their shared flat in London. She missed him a fuck load, missed their traditions.

To make up for lack of Oscar, Y/N's friends had organised a girls day. They'd brought over pumpkins to carve and Halloween themed food and drinks.

"Are you calling Osc tonight?" Asked one of the girls as they drew faces on their pumpkins.

Y/N shook her head. "Not with the time zone differences," she answered as she drew the face on her pumpkin. Hers had heart eyes and a zigzag smile.

"Hang on!" Another friend shouted as she reached for a ghost shaped pretzel. "What if we did one of those pumpkin head photoshoots? We could send the pictures to Oscar," she suggested, her eyebrows going up and down.

"What if we did a lingerie shoot?" Another friend quietly suggested.

That was actually a good idea, Y/N realised as she looked at her pumpkin. She and her friends could do a lingerie photoshoot to send to Oscar while he was in Mexico. It was a brilliant idea. "Let's do it," she said grabbed the knife from the middle of the floor.

The girls began carving their pumpkins while Y/N carved a hole in the bottom of her pumpkin, one big enough for her for her head. After she'd done that, she scraped out the inside of her pumpkin until their was nothing left.

And then it was onto the head. She carved the heart eyes out carefully and pushed them out. "What do we think?" Y/N asked as she placed it on her head. Her friends let out a series of whops and cheers, one of them even snapping a picture.

Y/N carved out the smile. It was tricky work, and she had to do it piece by piece until the smile was entirely cut out.

"Ladies, I think we're ready," she said and held up her pumpkin head.

The girls piled into Y/N and Oscar's room, searching through her draw of underwear for lingerie. One found a black, lacy body suit, another found a matching pair of red underwear, a small gem hanging from where the cups met. There was one last set, green, with suspenders on the panties.

Y/N quickly got changed into the body suit. She placed the pumpkin on her head and let her friends position her.

They really were amazing. Her friends were there for over an hour, taking pictures of her to send to Oscar. Most were on her on the bed, some with candy raining down onto her, some of her pretending to lick a lolly pop with the candy head.

As soon as they were done, Y/N sent every single picture to Oscar. She got dressed and placed the pumpkin out on her balcony. "Thanks, guys," she said to her friends as they sat down to watch movies.

"Just tell us what Oscar says."

Oscar, well, he was shocked. With the race over, he was able to rush to the airport to get to the plane and back to his girlfriend.

As Oscar waited at the gate, headphones in his ears, his phone pinged several times. A message from Y/N. With hearts in his eyes, Oscar opened the message.

His cheeks were flaming as he looked through the pictures. A lingerie photoshoot with Y/N wearing a pumpkin head. He knew exactly who it was, he could recognise her body anywhere.

Oscar left one message before he boarded the plane.

Holy fuck.

[theowlwrites]

Shall we dance? // Bailamos?

Melissa Schemmenti x F!Reader

Cariño: Term of endearment, can be translated as honey/ dear/ darling.

~Just want to clarify that I love Mexican and Italian culture. 🫶🏽

Warnings: no physical description of reader, it is mention that her nationality is Mexican en 2 occasions, consumption of alcohol. Angst, fluff, and a little smut at the end?

Summary: Reader is the new Spanish teacher at Abbott, she goes to a celebration of 5 de Mayo at Barb’s house, were things turn interesting with Melissa.

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“Come on!” Janine was trying for the hundred time to convince you to go to this little get together at Barbara's house “It will be fun!”

Today was 5 de Mayo, and for some reason, in the States, they celebrated it. You have nothing against it, but back in México it goes like any other normal day. Despite that, seeing all the decorations with Mexican themes made you miss your home.

“I've already told you” You close the folder you were working on a look at her “I can't go, I already made some other plans”

The truth was that you didn't have any plans, you just don't feel part of the teacher group just yet. You are the new Spanish teacher at Abbot, just entered this year. Everyone has been nice to you, especially Janine and Jacob. You also have a good relationship with Gregory, but you aren´t really close. When it came to the older teachers, you have no issue talking to Barbara, she is really nice, she sometimes even asks you to help her with her Spanish. But Melissa, she was a different story, she isn´t exactly mean, but she likes to make clear that she preferred anything Italian over Spanish, and that Italian cuisine was better than the Mexican. You never argue, mostly because Melissa intimidates you, but not for the reason she intimidates the other younger teachers, but because you have the biggest crush on her.

So going to this 5 de Mayo party to Barbara's house looks like the perfect place for Melissa to tell you over and over again how Italians do it better. Not really something you are looking forward to.

“Leave the booze to me Barb, I know a guy that can get me the best tequila” At that moment Melissa and Barbara were entering the teacher’s room, interrupting you and Janine.

Barb looks directly to you, ignoring Melissa “Oh good, I was looking for you dear” She takes a sit next to you. “Please can you take care of the music? Maybe you can play some Spanish bangers in that Walkman of yours” She meant your Spotify. All eyes were on you know, making you feel the pressure. “You are coming… right?”

“You know Barbara… I… I don´t think I can make it, I have to...” You were avoiding looking at her, you couldn´t lie to her face, actually you couldn´t lie to anyone’s face, you were a terrible liar.

“Okay, what is it?” Melissa´s voice came from behind you, then she walked to your side and took a sit in front of you. “Why don´t you want to spend time with us?”  She had her glasses over her head, leaving a few strands of hair free next to her face, she was raising an eyebrow. She was looking hot.

“It´s not that” Your voice comes out weaker that you expected. “I don´t know, it makes me feel a little… homesick, I guess” It wasn´t entirely a lie, but you couldn´t tell the redhead that she makes you nervous to the point of almost forgetting how to speak English.

“Oh darling” You felt Barbs arm wrap your shoulders. Melissa was still looking at you, but this time with more gentle eyes that before “I can imagine how you feel, but I think this could do you good. You can show us a little bit more of your traditions, I would love to hear about that”

“Yeah girl… we can get to know each other a little bit more” Melissa winked and eye at you, which made your heart beat faster.

With a big sigh, you finally agree “Okay then, I´ll be there at five o´clock”

“You won´t regret it, amigo!” Janine says

“Amiga… with an a” You laugh.

“See you at five o clock then, dear. Don´t forget the music.” Barbara smiles, pleased that she convinced you to go and leaves the room with Janine. Leaving you with Melissa, who was still looking at you.

She stood up and grab her bag, carrying it on her shoulder. “See you soon… cariño” You were so glad that Melissa left immediately after saying those words, otherwise, she would have noticed how your face turned red as a tomato.

Later that day you were at home, putting together a playlist of spanish music. You added some ballads, some more mariachi music, and algo some dancing music, like salsa, cumbia and some bachata, just for fun.

At 5:15 pm you were standing outside Barbara´s house, you have already knocked twice and nobody answered. Maybe you had the location wrong, so you decided to call Janine, but just as you were going to press the call button, a voice from behind called you.

“Hey, cariño, it´s over here” Melissa was standing next to her car on the sidewalk, holding some bags that you assumed contained the tequila bottles. “This way”

You followed her to the back of the house, everyone was there, at the patio. No one was inside the house, that’s way nobody heard you knocking.

“Look what I found in your front door Barb” Melissa was referring to you, as she went straight to the table to settle the bottles. All eyes went to you, for second time in the day. Everyone was there already, with the exception of Ava, that preferred to stay at home watching Desperate Housewives than “going to that lame party” (her words). 

“I forgot to tell you we will be at the back. Anway, I´m very glad you came. You bring the music?” 

“Of course,” You proceed to connect you phone to the speaker and start reproducing your playlist.

“Now this is a fiesta!” Said Janine while trying to dance at the bit of one song.

You were standing next to the speaker, watching everyone enjoy the party. Barbara has offered you a plate of mini taquitos, that were actually really good. It was probably the music, the Mexican decoration and even the taquitos that made you feel nostalgic, so your mind started wondering through your childhood memories. All those parties with your family, how your father had taught you to dance in those parties, how you mom food tasted. You were so immersed in you thought that didn´t notice when the redhead went to stand right next to you.

“Penny for your thoughts” Her voice snapping you out from your own mind.

“I was just remembering some childhood stuff, that all” You didn’t dare to look at her eyes. And she noticed it, actually she had always notice it, how you would avoid looking directly at her. She always took those moments as opportunities to look at you with more detail. Melissa hadn´t admitted this to anyone, not even Barbara. but she thinks that you are very beautiful, she´s intrigued by you. She likes it when you speak Spanish, you make everything sound better. But she has no idea how to approach those feelings, so she decides to keep her distance too, by not being the nicest or most accessible teacher at Abott.   She wanted that to change, and she was going to start working in that today. 

“You know… I sometimes feel nostalgic of my home as well.” She drank from the plastic cup she was holding. “I have always lived in Philly, but I don´t see my family as often anymore, and we haven´t had a reunion or a party in so long… I miss that” You looked at Melissa. She was actually telling you something personal, without sarcasm. “But of course, it must be harder for you, being away from your country” She then looked you in the eyes.

“It´s not too bad” You were actually looking at Melissa´s eyes, for mor than 1 second, for the first time, and God they were beautiful, just as her. “I visit them once a year, and they sometimes come visit” There was a silence, both of you looking at everyone else enjoying the party.

“Would you like a paloma?” Melissa asked, with a mischievous grin.

“That´s what you are having?” She nodded. “Yeah, please”

Melissa served you a paloma (soda with tequila), and from that moment you never parted her side. Both of you kept talking, laughing, at some point you teaching her some Spanish, and she teaching you some Italian. It was probably the booze, but you started feeling how Melissa was getting more comfortable around you. She was being handsy, placing her hand around your arm, sometimes over your hand, and some other times around your waist. Soon she started leaning against you, caressing your hair, holding your waist longer. She was flirting. Neither of you were drunk drunk, you were still perfectly conscious and in you five senses, which made you very anxious but excited about this sudden change in Melissa´s attitude.

It was already 9:00 pm, Janine, Gregory and Jacob had already left, tomorrow was school day. Barbara, Melissa and you were sitting around the folding table in the middle of the patio. Your music still playing. The three of you has stop drinking like an hour ago, to sober up, and were just chatting. And even without the effects of the alcohol, Melissa was still being nice to you, maybe a little less handsy, but still very friendly.

Barbara excuse herself to go to the bathroom. A comfortable silence between Melissa and you, when a salsa began to play at the background.

“God, I love that salsa, I used to dance it all the times at parties, with anyone, even alone, I just wanted to dance it” You smile as you remember. Unconsciously you closed your eyes and started moving in your chair, humming the song. Unaware of the way Melissa was looking at you.

“Shall we dance?” You snap your eyes open. She offers you her hand to you, already standing up next to you.

“What?”

“Bailamos?” She repeats, and this time you nodded. She holds her hand until you are standing next to her. She places her free hand on your waist, keeping you close to her, while her other hand holds yours at the level of her face. And you start dancing.

It´s a slow salsa, so it is easy to dance, but you have the feeling that even if it was a faster rhythm, Melissa would dance like if she had done it all her life.

You feel Melissa´s eyes on you, she´s smiling. She moves her arm, so it surrounds your waist. The sudden closeness makes you lose your balance a little, Melissa holds you tighter, preventing you for falling. You both laugh.

Her face inches away from yours, her eyes going from your eyes to your lips. She caressed your cheek with her other hand, and pulls you closer, closing the space between you.

The kiss is sweet, slow. You both take your time to feel it, you enjoy it. Your arms around Melissa´s neck, keeping her close to you. Soon the kiss turns a little more heated, Melissa´s tongue asking for permission to pass your lips, to which you happily submit.

You still can taste a little bit the alcohol from earlier, and you taste the sweetness of Melissa.  Really there is no other way to describe it, it feels and taste sweet to be kissing her like this.

You break the kiss until you realize you need to take a breath, but not breaking the embrace. You are still so close to each other Melissa can basically fell how your heart is beating fast.

“I never thought Italians were this good at salsa dancing” That´s all you said, making Melissa laugh.

“We are good at everything darling, but you do it amazing yourself, cariño, give yourself some credit.” She kissed you again. “Let me drive you home.” Melisas whispered to your ear, you just nodded.

You both said goodbye to Barbara, not without offering to help her clean, to which she refused. Once inside Melisa´s car she couldn’t stop eyeing you, she kept a hand in your thigh. You couldn’t stop looking at her either, and honestly, if it wasn´t for the seatbelt, you would be on top of her long time ago.

You arrive home, Melissa opens your door, helping you out. And before she could say anything, you were kissing her. This time was passionate, full of desire and lust. Melissa was against the car, her hands on your hips. You were leaning on her, your hand on her hair.

“Come inside, please” You didn’t mean to sound do needy, but you couldn´t hide it.

“I would absolutely love it cariño, but tomorrow is school day, and I need another change if clothes. I just wanted to make sure you arrive safe and sound.” She was keeping her hands on your hips, but this time with a stronger grip, trying to create a little more space between you tow.

“Please” You took Melissa´s hands away from your hips, letting you lean to her once again. “Por favor” (please) You whispered to her ear. Now her arms were surrounding you shole waist. You started kissing her earlobe, descending to her neck. Melissa was in a trance. “Te necesito” (I need you)

“You are making this very difficult for me, cariño” Now it was Melissa´s voice the one that came out shaky, which made you feel proud.

“It doesn´t have to be difficult, you can just come in”.

“Let´s make a deal, hon… I promise that tomorrow I will be here, with a bottle of wine, and we can do whatever you want, but you have to promise to speak I little more Spanish to my ear, deal?” That mischievous grin was back on Melissa´s face, and you loved it.

“¿Te gusta cuando hablo español?” (Do you like when I speak Spanish?) You said as innocent as you could.

“I have no idea of what you just said, but keep doing that you will pay the price tomorrow”

“Trato… deal” You agreed. She kissed you once again, this time keeping it less heated and shorter. You took a few steps away from Melissa, trying to pull yourself together, and trying to ignore you soaked underwear. If Melissa wasn´t going to spend this night with you, you had some plans before going to bed, and as if she could read your mind, she added…

“Oh, and cariño… don´t touch yourself tonight, It will make tomorrow more fun” She winked her eye to you. It wasn’t a question; it was an order. “You can do that for me, right hon?” You really wanted to release all this tension tonight, but you couldn´t say no to Melissa.

“I promise” you said

“Good girl” She went inside her car. “See you tomorrow cariño, sleep tight” She left, leaving you horny as hell.

God, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow…

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Okay, so this idea pop into my mind while I was watching Shall we dance?, I really love that movie, and I love Lisa’s character. 🥹

Hope you like it, and let me know if you want a second part 🫣

[rainbowchaox]

Analysis of Pissa So Far.

This is a essay looking at our favorite death dads and how their relationship changed and their different nuances from to start to most recent. This will primarily look at the major three times we had Phil and Missa interact from the start with being paired for the eggs to recently the Mexican Independence Party. So bare with me and come with me down memory lane.

I rewatched day 1 of the pairing up of pissa to mainly cope with CERTAIN lore that happened recently. And yes it’s as fluffy and cute as I remembered. But let’s start at the beginning. Before the pairing up Missa and Phil knew of each other casually like acquaintances. In real life along with in general their characters/cubitos. (Again major thanks for the server in general bringing all these wonderful creators together.) Anyways the first time Phil met Missa was when he jumped off the wall and gave them food. I like to imagine missa had a non-serious crush on the man. But they didn’t really interact. And it’s fair to understand why.

But then the egg event happened. Which honestly in my opinion was the best event to bring the Spanish and English sides together organically. And looking back now it WORKED. So back on track everyone goes to the adoption center and like most Qsmp events it’s total chaos. Phil chooses his ticket and when I rewatched it Missa literally like spammed clicked it to break it and get Phil. Atleast that is what it looks like to me. So we already have the seeds of simp Missa from the very start. Also can we all take a break and just realize they both got tickets with D? And literally they are Deathduo? The more I rewatch the pairing lottery the more I think it was rigged by the admins and not actually by chance. Every duo either had similar humor or charm.

Immediately Phil and Missa find out they both have D. And it’s casual no romantic undertones the cubitos are still getting to know each other. But Missa being a sweetheart immediately is like you can choose whatever egg. And I think this is when Phil starts to soften and gets majorly endeared towards the clumsy reaper. Like not a crush. Not love. But the seeds of the adoration and love we see from Phil down the road. The fact of the matter Phil let Missa choose Chayanne name. The fact literally the newly formed death family was being fluffy and saying chayanne will be the best egg while literally everyone was screaming in the background. Its the main thing that would later define the dynamic of the ship. The gentle understanding and teamwork. That would later be a staple whether you ship them platonically or romantically.

And chayanne is the best way to show why pissa was meant to always work. Chayanne personality and hobbies all came from his two dads (Literally the reason chayanne was interested in cooking so much was because Missa taught him to cook). And like Phil once he was thrust into parenthood with Missa immediately found him endeared by his assigned husband? The amount of times he laughed because of Missa. Another theme so important to why pissa works so well.

Missa is Philzas calm balm. He relaxes Phil so much. And that’s so rare for that to happen. So of course a hour or so in taking care of their son. Phil visibly softens and gets endeared to the man. Phil immediately starts worrying about missa when he left. Missa may have fallen first but Phil fell harder. Like more time Phil spends with Missa the more comfortable and at ease he gets. Missa fully was like I have the best husband ever let me casually call you pet names.

Not to mention two popular scenes burned into the minds of fans. The moment when Mariana called Phil my love and tried to steal him. And Phil being Phil immediately was I’m okay with my partner thank you very much. And both Missa and Phil cuddled close. I still think Missa fell day 1 but Phil was quickly getting a crush on his assigned husband. Secondly Phil literally invited Missa to bed.

Their dynamic was one of like relaxation of trust and just both trying their best for Chayanne. They easily slid into a cute dynamic as both got endeared to the others. And also in day 1 Phil never said platonic it’s only after day 1 he started using that. And only when he wasn’t with Missa. He is a repressed romantic guy struggling with a crush. Not to mention the crows practically grew so attached to Missa it was insane to see.

Anyways like most couples they had to both take care of chayanne until Missa canonically got kidnapped by wolves for four months. During the time Missa was there he was pining HARD for Phil. Calling him his love and darling in Spanish. Phil meanwhile keep saying it was platonic and most of the fans accepted that. But then Missa was gone.

And cubito Phil missed him so fucking much. It’s at this point I fully believe is when Phil finally realized he loved him. He kept referencing Missa. He made armor for Missa. He dyed his backpack black with a skull because of Missa. It’s truly my belief that Philza realized he fucking adored the man in Missas absence. He never gave up waiting for Missa. And Missa eventually kept his promise and came back to his family.

And this is when you see some of nuance or facets change slightly in their dynamic. The core is the same all the way back from day 1 but it does change. It somehow becomes softer and domestic. Sure Philza even before his grand realization in Missa absence SPOILED missa. Missa made him soft. But when the reunion happened? Somehow Philza softens even more. Somehow he spoils Missa even more. This is why I believe that Philza finally realized he loves Missa. Because there is a clear increase in the affectionate displays between them.

Philza and the rest of the server went on the mission once Missa appeared. It was legit like Philza forgot that he was a mission. Philza when Missa appeared immediately softened so much. Of course Philza isn’t angry he’s gone. He just missed his husband. And voila once asked by Cellbit “oh this is your husband?!” He immediately agreed. This is important because for months if someone asked about who is Missa he would always and never fail to say Missa is his platonic partner/husband.

But in the reunion Philza just said husband. Because in my opinion Philza fully thought of Missa his romantic partner. The fact that Philza showed everyone including Missa the skull on the black backpack almost like a bird showing off his feathers. And Missa was immediately all gushy. The fact he only looked at Missa when he said you can go into my boat. And felps not realizing the sorta of energy the two of them was having immediately was cursed to be a third wheel.

Like literally felps was in the back of the boat being all “just ignore that I’m here” when literally Philza and Missa were lost in their own fucking world. Gently flirting with each other. Felps was regretting majorly getting in the boat with them so no wonder he bounced as soon as possible. And literally they were left by themselves still on a mission to save people. But I won’t lie it was a date.

Just them loving in each other company. And Philza being so gentle and loving and protective towards Missa. Their dynamic at their core is the same yes. But it’s undeniably more romantic. And Missa side of the dynamic also changes. He starts trying his best to protect Philza. The man who has from the start been protecting him and their son.

Missa slowly starts to become more brave and actually comments on how attractive Phil is in front of him. (I can see your pecs….yes Missa we get it you love Phil). They are closer than ever. Phil also immediately accepts Missa as Tallulah other dad. Do you guys know how massive that is? He trusts and loves Missa so darn much to let him easily be part of his whole family.

And eventually Missa had to go for a bit. But the amount of pissa interaction we get during the renuion stream doesn’t end. We have loads more to dissect. Missa comes back in hope to see his son and new daughter but sadly they were sleeping but later on despite showing Tubbo around. Once he saw Missa was whispering to him in chat immediately left as soon as possible to get to his husband. Also Cellbit who was with him and tubbo was immediately like “oh you need to help your husband understandable” while tubbo was just like so confused.

Meanwhile before this Missa was crying wanting to go back to Phil. Phil is his safety blanket. Phil never fails to make him feel safe and secure and protected. There’s reasons why Missa fell so quickly. And they met up. And to bring up my earlier point above. What Phil does nest is one of my primarily reasons why I believe Phil fully realizes he loves Missa.

Yes Phil spoils Missa. It’s his love lanuage but all the gifts and upgrades he did late at night (which Phil made a mission to give stuff to Missa before he logged off.) and even the armor he made so long ago. The amount of spoiling and pampering just screams love, adoration, and affection.

And of course they get sorta matching backpacks. And of course Missa says he loves him so fast so the translator doesn’t pick it up. This leds to when Missa showed up by himself had a loony toon day before being called out by roier. He fully says he loves Philza. LOVES PHILZA. TE AMO. Romantic.

Most of the fans knew because just look how Missa acted. But once it was confirmed Missa feels romantic feelings for Philza? That’s when the majority starting fully accepting them as romantic soulmates. And started seeing Philza actions how they are. Romantic. (Though if you prefer them as platonic that’s also very valid).

The only reason a pissa wedding or confession haven’t happened is because Missa loves Philza so much he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable or burden him with his feelings for him. If philza said let’s get married he would accept immediately. But knowing Phil he will say nothing about loving Missa because he is scared he won’t be able to be protect.

And more recently. The Mexican Independence Day party. I won’t lie the times they were together they were always flirting. They were so cute. And both in my eyes were getting brave with their love for the other in their own ways. Missa literally screaming VIVA TE AMO on stage when Roier said Philza. Or Philza making sure he follows Missa during the dance. The fact Philza was so gentle explaining the recent egg disappearance and made a comment of being shock that Missa came back (he misses Missa so much each time he is gone.).

And their dynamic switches slightly again. Because Phil the whole time was worried and hovering around Missa when ingesting everything lore at once. And Missa is again getting brave he fully said he going on a date with Phil. It’s romantic. There’s no way I can personally can see it otherwise (though again if you like them platonic you are hella valid). At the start there was seeds but their romance has grown. They love each other. They need to confess for my sanity. And I fully trusts that Missa will have some sort of role in saving his love. And maybe perhaps we can get a confession or wedding in the future-

[billiebustupofficial]

Hi, I really love Billy Bust Up and it's cute and beautiful art style, and the songs of the characters but I been wondering since a while. Since Barnaby love parties would he celebrate "Día de muertos" You know cause the thematic of this party it's to celebrate the memories of the death ones and if he don't celebrate it I would recommend him to celebrate it 💖

Also I'm from Mexico so I would not take this like a cultural apropiation. 💘🇲🇽

So we do have a lot of Mexican inspired stuff in our game as the lead writer and character designer, Ash Ortiz, is Mexican! They wanted to add a piece of their home and culture into the game. It’s why they added an Axolotl character. Aristotles tent area also has a lot of meso american themes behind the environmental design.

There was a point in Barnabys design that he was coloured to look like a alebrije, so I imagine he would love Día de los Muertos.

[diegothemenace]

(source — behind a paywall but using the reader format in Firefox worked for me… I will include terrible auto-translate behind the cut for anyone interested with apologies for any errors)

Diego Luna has high expectations for the new government that will be headed by Claudia Sheinbaum starting next October, as she is the first woman president of Mexico, but he also knows that as a society there is a lot to rethink.

The actor of "Y tu mamá también" and "Rogue One: A Star Wars Story" is at the International Film Festival that takes place in this city, where he will not only receive a tribute tonight, but also presented the documentary Estado de silencio, which he produces and which deals with the violence suffered by Mexican journalists.

"(The first woman president) We do not owe it to any political party, that is a fact to celebrate and I do find it very exciting to be living it, I am very grateful that I have to live it. That excites me and I also have a lot of expectations to see what is going to happen, because I think we are living in very complicated times, a little bit of the interest of that reflection is reflected in State of Silence," says Luna.

"I think that the violence, the impunity that the journalistic profession experiences and the total absence of justice is a clear example on a scale of something that happens in this country," he adds.

But he points out that he always has hope for the future, something that reaffirmed the public's response to the documentary, which contains the experiences of journalist María de Jesús Peters, EL UNIVERSAL's correspondent in Chiapas, as well as other journalists who face similar risks.

"When things happen to me like the ones that happened to me yesterday after the presentation of the documentary, I do wake up with hope, it is nice to see when people connect and when they care about the other and manifest it, yesterday that meeting was beautiful and those expressions, moments, give me illusion and hope," he stresses.

Recently, Luna finished the last season of the series Andor, the prequel to Rogue One, where it was directed, among others, by the Mexican Alonso Ruizpalacios, with the cinema photograph of Damián García.

"I'm grateful for the format that let me enjoy it until the end, I've never done television for more than two seasons and I, as I'm old and I like cinema more than anything, I live it as long movies (laughs) or eight short independents, it's not something that has been carrying for years," he says.

He indicates that the installment ends where the film, released in 2016, begins, when his character is the one who helps steal the plans of the Death Star, the central theme of Episode IV.

" (Cassian) A lot has to happen to him to throw that mission and for someone to give it to him, he still has a lot to prove," he says briefly.

What he's also happy about is the new version of The Kiss of the Spider Woman, in which he plays a political prisoner who shares a cell with a gay man in the 1980s.

Bill Condon (Beauty and the Beast and Mr. Holmes) is the director, with a cast that includes Jennifer Lopez. "We shot a piece in New York and a piece in Montevideo. It's basically a tribute to the musical work that was done on Broadway in the early '90s."

Today, the actor will be honored. And if some like the late Jorge Fons (Red Dawn) said that he didn't like these ceremonies because he seemed to be being fired, Luna sees it differently.

"I've had to live long enough to know that no, that I can take away that fear, these days have been beautiful, a reminder that I'm part of a community."

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ❛ 𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓕𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝓟𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄. ❜

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ❀ ˚◞ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 : 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐡

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 single mom!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. today is luca’s 5th birthday and party is at your parents house. all of your family and friends are there. miguel shows up to the party and everyone is curious to see a large man dressed in a spiderman suit.

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. pure fluff, family dynamics, parties, birthdays, spanish terms, mexican culture

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

today is you son’s fifth birthday. the party is at your parents’ house, mainly in the backyard. all of your family and friends are here. the party theme is spiderman. ironic, isn’t it? all of the decorations are the colors of his suit and some have pictures of him. well — to you, it’s the peter parker version of spiderman. it’s hilarious to know that there’s various versions of spidermen out there, yet peter is the one.

luca is wearing his spiderman costume, the peter parker version. some of his friends are wearing the same costume. others are dressed as classic villains, green goblin, doc oct, and venom. you believe miguel will find it absolutely hilarious to see the kids dressed as villains that he actually fought against.

all of the kids are in the bouncy house. your dad and some of your tios are watching them, making sure they don’t tip it over. your mom and tias are gossiping as always at one of the tables. your siblings are talking to other family members and friends.

you are chitchatting with your friends at one of the tables, sipping a can of pink lemonade. you are wearing a white crop top shirt with spiderman’s (peter’s) mask on it, denim jeans and white vans.

as you continue chitchatting, one of your tias approach you. “mija, there’s a very tall man here who says he’s your boss.” she said.

your eyes perk up in excitement, a little smile forming on your lips. “yeah, it’s him. thanks, tia.” excusing yourself from your friend group, you head back inside the house to find miguel.

miguel stands by the entrance, gazing at the family pictures displayed on the wall. you have an wonderful family, he thought. noticing a presence walking towards him, he turns and sees you. his lips curl up a bit, a little smile on his face at the sight of you.

“hey, i’m glad you made it. luca is going to be so happy to see you.” you give him a warm smile.

“can’t wait to see him.” he returns the smile before glancing down at your shirt. “nice shirt.” a little smirk forming on his face.

you softly chuckle. “thanks. you are the celebrity of the party.”

“i can see that.” miguel chuckled. “so where’s the birthday boy?”

“he’s in the bouncy house outside. wanna go see?” you asked, pointing back at the backyard.

he simply nods. “lead the way.”

with a brief smile, you both head to the backyard. you pass by various family members and friends, bunch of chitchatting and gossip. music is playing on the speakers outside, different types of songs. it ranges from luca’s favorite songs to banda and bachata. a classic mexican party.

“your family knows how to throw a party.” miguel comments in a joking manner, smirking a little.

you laugh at his comment. “yep. that’s mexicans for you. always throwing the wildest parties until 3 in the morning.”

he laughs as well, nodding in agreement. “very true.”

you both share laughter as you enter the backyard. just as it couldn’t get any awkward, people turn their heads in surprise and look at you and miguel. they all stare at the abnormally tall, large man dressed in a spiderman suit standing next to you. since you are so short, the height difference is absurd yet amusing.

you can feel their judgmental eyes on you and miguel. you despise it, making you feel unsettled and awkward. miguel senses your discomfort. he doesn’t give shit about the stares at him, couldn’t care less.

just before you can move and walk away from the stares, your mom approaches you both.

“so mija, is this you boss?” she asked, standing in front of you and miguel.

“yes, mom. this is miguel.” you answer.

she looks up at him, greeting him with a smile as she extends out her hand. “nice to meet you, miguel.”

“igualmente, mrs. [l/n].” miguel said professionally, gently shaking her hand with a small bow.

“oooo español?” your mom raises a brow in surprise.

“mexicano.” he replies with a smile.

“oooo qué bueno!” she gives you a wink before looking back at him. “welcome to our house, miguel. we hope you enjoy the party.” she smiles before walking away to meet up with your tias.

miguel turns to you. “your mom is very nice.”

“yeah, she’s the best.” you glance over at your mom, who is gossiping with your tias like always. probably gossiping about miguel. you roll your eyes at the sight then look back at him. “let’s go find luca.”

you both head to the bouncy house in the corner of the backyard. it’s spiderman themed, of course. red and blue with pictures of the hero on it. luca and his friends are jumping around, chasing each other.

luca sees you and miguel. his eyes widen in excitement as he rushes out of the bouncy house. “spiderman!” he shouts, running towards miguel.

miguel crouched down, extending his arms out to catch luca and embrace him in a gentle hug. “feliz compleaños, chiquito.”

the boy hugs him tightly. “gracias! i’m so happy you’re here!” he exclaims, smiling brightly.

“i wouldn’t have miss it for the multiverse.” miguel chuckles, smiling at the birthday boy.

your heart melts at the sight once again. to see luca so happy that miguel is here makes you smile. the connection grows stronger.

the other kids spot miguel and immediately rushed out of the bouncy house in excitement. all of them gather around him, complimenting his suit and how cool he looks in it. they blurt out questions, practically overwhelming him but he doesn’t mind.

miguel notice some of the kids are dressed as villains. he can’t help but smile and laugh. it’s hilarious yet adorable to see them dressed as villains that he actually fought against. these little villains are probably the only ones he likes.

watching miguel interacting with the kids is heartwarming. the joy and excitement on their faces, fascinated by his appearance. you smile at the adorable sight. he is really well with kids.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

now it’s time for cake. everyone gathers around at the center table. you stand in front of the cake, carrying luca in your arms. it’s a vanilla cake decorated with a “happy 5th birthday luca!” sign in red frosting and spiderman’s mask to the side.

everyone, well mainly your mom and tias, have their phones out to record the celebration. all of the kids gather in front of the cake on the opposite side from you. they drool and babble how delicious the cake looks. miguel stands off to the side near you. he doesn’t want to block anyone’s sight due to his monstrous height.

just before everyone sings “happy birthday”, luca turns to you with a pleading look.

“mamá, i want spiderman here.” he pleads.

“aww okay, mijo.” you turn around, looking for miguel. luckily, he is just standing nearby. plus his abnormal figure helps out. you gesture your head for him to come over.

he happily obliged and walks over. now, miguel stands next to you. the three of you like a trio.

“yay spiderman!” luca smiles at him.

you and miguel laugh while smiling at him.

some brows raised in confusion at the sight of miguel standing with you and luca. some people are curious, asking others who he is or why he’s joining you. but they just brush it off and wait for the song.

now it’s finally singing time. your mom lights the five candles on the cake and everyone starts singing “happy birthday” but in spanish. everyone who has their phones out start recording and take pictures of the moment.

the song finishes, luca makes a wish and blows the candles. everyone cheers and claps. you plant a kiss on his forehead. miguel gives him a high five. everyone takes pictures, capturing the happy moment. miguel is in the pictures but they don’t mind, especially since luca wants him there.

just as you are about to cut the cake, miguel offers to do it since you’re carrying luca. you let him and just happily stand there with your now five-year-old son.

while cake is being served, your siblings gathered together towards the back and gossip.

“hey. who’s the spiderman guy?” your brother tony asked, gesturing at miguel.

“[y/n]’s boss. he’s a pretty nice guy. luca likes him a lot.” cece explains, sipping her corona beer.

“yeah i just met him a few minutes ago. that man is so kind and respectful. he’s fine as fuck.” your other sister lily chuckles as she takes a sip of water.

both of your sisters laugh in agreement. tony just roll his eyes, refusing to join the laughter.

“do you think they like each other?” lily inquires.

“I don’t doubt it. i mean — look at them.” cece gestures at you and miguel, chitchatting. “ever since they became friends, they’ve always been close. i’ve seen the way they look at each other.”

lily and tony nod in agreement, looking at you both.

“and with luca in the picture, they look like a cute tiny trio.” cece added.

“rip ezra then.” tony joked.

all of them laugh in unison.

“yeah i definitely like miguel way more than ezra. shit even luca likes him more than his own father.” lily jokes, taking another sip of her water.

“lily! don’t say that!” cece giggles, shoving her shoulder playfully.

“well, i just hope they get together. they seem so good together. [y/n] needs it.” lily said.

all of your siblings hum in agreement.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

after the cake, presents and piñata, the party slowly comes to an end. family members and friends leave. they said their goodbyes and wish luca a happy birthday. your parents and siblings start cleaning up. miguel participates in the clean up, offering help. your family likes him very much.

while everyone is cleaning up the party, you are sitting at one of the tables in the far back. accompanied with a glass of wine, you relax while watching luca play with his new toys in front of you. your family wants to you rest and relax after such a long and busy day. at first, you refused but gave in.

after helping out and cleaning up, miguel finds you walks over. “how are the new toys?” he asked as he takes a seat next to you.

“he loves them, especially the spiderman and transformers ones.” your gaze is locked on luca, adoring the sight of him playing with his toys.

he lets out a hum. “how are you feeling?” he asks sincerely, leaning a little closer towards you. miguel is aware that you must be tired after a busy day.

a sigh escapes your lips. “a little exhausted but happy. i’m glad he had a great day.”

“you should definitely rest after putting him to sleep.” miguel suggests.

you nod at his suggestion. “yeah, definitely.” you look at him. “how was the clean up?” you take another sip of your wine.

“pretty well. your family is nice. i was having a funny conversation with your sister lily. i can see where you get your humor from.” he grins, chuckling a little.

you laugh. “yep, she’s such a goofy goober.”

he laughs as well. “and your brother, tony. he’s very smart, i like him.”

“yeah, that nerd.” you mock your brother.

miguel laughs at your mocking.

luca walks up to you, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “mamá i’m getting tired.”

you pick him up and sat him down on your lap, wrapping your arms around him. “aww i know, mijo. we’re leaving soon, okay?” you caresses his cheeks.

the boy nods and nuzzles his face into your chest, slowly drifting away.

resting your chin on luca’s head, you turn to miguel. “you heading out soon?”

“when you leave, yes.” he answered.

miguel will leave when you do. he stays until you decide to go, to escort you to your car and make sure you drive back home safely.

you simply nod then slowly lift up from the chair, carrying a sleepy luca in your arms.

“i can carry him.” miguel suggests, rising up from his seat as well. he is willing to carry luca since you are tired, to ease your fatigue body and mind.

“no it’s okay. we’re just gonna say bye and head straight home.” you appreciate his offer but you are capable of carrying luca.

“are you sure?” miguel asked with a concerned look.

“mhm. it’s fine.” you softly smile at him as reassurance.

you both walk up to the patio door and enter the house. miguel following you around, you say goodbye to your family. they do the same and wish luca a happy birthday, despite the fact he’s practically asleep in your arms.

after your goodbyes, miguel escorts you to your car. he opens the back door. you carefully place luca in his booster seat and buckled him in. once he is buckled and secured, miguel closes the door.

“thanks for coming. it meant a lot to luca, he was very happy that you came.” you softly smiled, crossing your arms over your chest as comfort.

“of course. i’m glad he was happy and had a great day.” miguel returns the same smile. he indeed was very happy to come over and celebrate luca. it’s been a long time since he had a good day like this, besides spending time with you at work.

“well, i’ll see you at work tomorrow.” you slowly turn around and walk to the driver side of your car.

his eyes follow you as you walk. “take tomorrow off. get some rest.” he sincerely said.

you look up at him in surprise. “no it’s okay, i’ll be fine.”

“no seriously, [y/n]. take it, please.” miguel looks at you with a pleading expression. he truly wishes for you to stay home and rest. you need it. he can detect your aching body and the tiredness in your eyes.

despite being against his offer, you accept it. “okay, thanks. night.” you shoot him soft smile before opening the car door.

miguel smiles at your acceptance. “night.”

once you entered the car and turn on the engine, you pull out of the driveway and drive away.

miguel’s eyes follow your car, making sure you leave safely until you are no longer in his sight. his lips curl up into a smile now that he has confirmation of your safe drive home.

today has been the happiest he has been in a long time. watching luca being so happy and smiling warmed his heart to the core. miguel wholeheartedly adores the kid, like as his own son. after suffering a long period of grief and heartbreak, he finally finds happiness. miguel never believed he would experience the joy of being with kids again after gabriella. the guilt weighed heavily on him, consuming him entirely. the biggest regret of his life. throwing himself into work was his method of coping. miguel firmly believed he would spend the rest of his life working. there wasn’t anything or anyone else in his life. he lost everything.

until you entered his life. you are the blessing that the heavens send down to him. to answer his desperate need; to fill the void in his heart. miguel refused to believe in love after his greatest lost. but you appeared and his opinion changed. you radiate the warmth, compassion and tenderness that he has been searching for. and with luca, it feels like a true blessing in disguise. a second chance.

now, miguel is determined to spend time with you and luca. to be supportive and caring. he finally found his purpose, his second chance. and he most certainly will not mess it up. that will not happen. he wants to be a part of yours and luca’s lives. to be the missing piece of the picture. the final piece.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @deputy-videogamer @kinkybandages @rosiepetalss @frankoreoz @chshiresins @topreice @loonalockley @l3laze @ricekrisbris

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[crash-and-cure]

Would it be a Sin? (Yandere! Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Gif credit to @troubleinapinksuit​

Summary: Your Husband will forever keep you safe, no matter the cost.

A/N: Full disclosure, I am a Latina, specifically my family is from Mexico. When I first got this request from @ilovehobi101​ I worried as to how I could frame the conflict that some members felt comfortable bullying reader (y’know aside from casual 60’s misogyny) but also why reader wouldn’t really speak up about it. And then I saw my profile picture and was reminded of the serious lack of Latin!reader fics in this fandom, and voila. Also I understand the utter swaglessness of having a latin!reader that starts off as a maid, but trust me the occupation has relevance to the plot. Reader does speak spanish and I will acknowledge that some of the spanish spoken is very specific to the Mexican dialect. Also I love how I was asked for soft!yandere and my thoughts immeadiately went to murder. I got in right under the wire to was able to post this on Elvis’ birthday.

Warnings: Smut, though more towards the end, and not while reader is pregnant (but does include depictions of Hand kink, cockwarming, vaginal fingering. Pregnant!reader. Implied murder, hiding and burying of a body featured. Period-typical xenophobia, racism, and microagressions galore toward a poc!reader as well as the use of some racial slurs. Sexual harassment depicted, though not from Elvis. Yandere!Elvis themes of obsessive, manipulative, and gaslighting behavior, as well as some controlling and isolating tendencies as well, though, softer and not as overt as I have written before. Traumatic birth is described and as well as descriptions of a pre-mature baby. ANGST galore here. Blood and Injuries from a fall depicted. Symptoms of PTSD.

Word Count: 14.5k

My Masterlist

You love Elvis Presley. And you were lucky enough to be the woman that he loves back.

There was no doubt in your mind. 

It almost plays out like a fairy tale. The King that fell for the maid. 

When you were just a maid that cleaned up after him and his friends in Beverly Hills, you didn’t expect this house to be much different from the other houses you’d worked at. You’d been working working as a maid for a few years now, so you knew the deal. Rich people liked their big houses to be clean, but didn’t want to actually think about it being clean, so you were to be seen not heard. They rarely ever spoke to you, mostly they handed a list to one of the girls, and left the house for the day, and you would leave before they returned. When you did on occasion actually see them it would mostly be them calling for you, usually by the wrong name, and pointing to a mess, before leaving the room, truly thinking you were stupid and could only take the simplest of commands (you would on occasion meet these people again after you and Elvis became official, and they never remembered you).

Elvis at the very beginning proved to be no different. You were in his house constantly and yet you didn’t even see him in person until maybe a month or two after you started. As you understood it he was a busy man, especially as he was trying to make a movie career happen, after being gone for so long. 

You wouldn’t exactly call the first time you met him magical, or even anything really special for you. You and a few other girls had entered the house and immediately you saw evidence of a party from last night and you could also hear some pretty explicit sounds coming from where you knew the master bedroom to be, one voice pretty distinct even if you had never heard it in person, the other a mystery to you. You and some of the girls got a little giggly, while the others seemed pretty annoyed by this whole thing.

Your tía was on the annoyed side of this situation, which grew even more when one of the tasks was cleaning the stairs and polishing the railing. You're the one that ends up volunteering to do it seeing everyone else was too embarrassed to even try to get near there. 

“Suena como si estuviera puliendo la baranda también,” your friend Linda would snicker.

You smacked her arm, and said “pinche puta,” between laughs. Though you can’t say you were any better because you couldn’t help but be very curious as to whether or not the girl upstairs is someone famous or not. Not because you plan on sharing that information with the others, you’re just very curious by nature and always have been. It’s gotten you in trouble in a few places, but you’ve been able to pull the “no hablo ingles” card and it’s usually enough. 

And that’s how you met your future husband, crouched down to get to a hard to reach place on the bannister pretending you’re not interested in what’s going on in the other room, as he walked out of his bedroom in only his boxers, hair a mess, scratching his ass while yawning. It throws you a little how handsome you still think he is in person, even in this less than glamorous situation you find yourself in.

“Hola señor,” you said, trying to hide your embarrassment as you got right back to work to get a particularly stubborn spot. You’re also praying he’s not so uptight as to have you fired for seeing him like this, and your hope is that if you act like nothing's wrong he’ll barely even notice you.

“Um… uh… I-I,” you hear him stutter out. You turn around, prepared to either be given a task or be fired on the spot, but to your surprise you find one of the most desired men in the world stuttering over his words while his ears turn a bright red. That color transfers almost entirely to his whole face when you both hear a feminine yawn coming from his room. That manages to shake him out of his stupor as he scrambles back toward his bedroom and closes the door.

Well… I’m fired, which you’re actually sad about, because of all the houses you work he definitely gives the best tips. You know that girls have been let go at other houses for less than this, so you quietly make your way closer to the door, still near the bannister, hoping at the least your curiosity won’t be in vain and you’ll be able to see if it's someone famous.

“...you said I could stay awhile longer,” the girl says. Her voice isn’t so breathy, so you doubt it’s Marilyn or Jayne, but not so posh sounding that you think it’s a Debbie or Audrey. 

“I-I know darlin’, but somethin’ came up,” you hear him say. He sounds guilty, as though he was just caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. 

“Are we still going to that place you were telling me about later?”

“Mmm…” is all you hear from him in response. English may have been your second language, but even you recognize a non-answer when you hear one. You can’t help but cringe at that and for her sake, you hope, for her sake, she drove herself here. 

Down below you hear Linda calling and asking you to bring down the duster, but as you grab it intending to make a quick exit from the situation, you realize you neglected to finish the job you were sent to do and you lose your balance at the very top of the stairs when your grip fails you from all of the polish. 

There isn’t really anytime for your life to flash before your eyes as someone snatches your wrist and brings you upright again. “You alright there darlin’?” Elvis would ask as he guides you away from the stairs sounding genuinely worried for you while you try to catch your breath. Your heart skips a beat when you see how blue his eyes are, and you quickly try to gather yourself.

“Thank you,” you say. You notice he’s wearing a robe now and also how he’s gazing at you, not saying anything. “You want me to clean in there?” you say to break the tension a bit, which works as you see his cheeks redden a bit as he looks back at his bedroom.

“No, no, I-I uh…” he stutters, before clearing his throat. “If you don’t mind, my uh gir-lady… friend, needs to leave and she uhh…” 

“You want me to distract the others while she leaves?” 

“Y-you don’t mind?” 

“Well you just saved my life so I think I owe you.” you say to him as you lean over the bannister and confirm that they were all in the living room. You go to grab the railing, but quickly snatch your hand back. “Not falling for that one again.” you say looking back at him, and you see that gets a half smile out of him.

“Wait,” he says as you’re halfway down the stairs. “What’s your name sweetheart?”

It’s rare that you’re ever asked that on the job, so for perhaps the first time on the job, your smile is genuine as you tell him.

“Y/N” he repeats, apparently liking the way it rolls off his tongue. And surprisingly enough so do you.

So you make your way down to the room you know they’re cleaning and let them know that the boss wants all of you to clean the kitchen right now. They’re annoyed but nonetheless comply and once you make sure they’re all out you look back up the stairs and give him the thumbs up. He gives you a dopey smile as he gives one back.

Rather than being fired over the incident, he surprises you by actually giving you and the others even more hours. And the hours you worked for him, he so happens to be home. Your tía warns you to be on your best behavior, because typically this means that they think that one of you stole something so they’re keeping an eye on you. With the way one of his friends kept looking at you when you were in the same room as him you figured she was right. But the way Elvis was acting around you, was what threw away this notion.

He was always going out of his way to talk to you, always finding excuses to be in the same room as you, even offering little gifts in the form of sweets. Mix in the fact that you also became the only one who was allowed within places that not even his friends could go into like his bedroom, this all told you that he liked you, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions as to what way.

After he finished shooting his movie he would ask you to house sit for him while he was back in Memphis, stating he felt he could trust you to keep the house clean and to be responsible with it unlike his other friends. Even after you saw what he was willing to pay you for essentially living alone in his mansion for a month, you hesitated because who just offers that to someone they just met and your tía’s warnings about men like him didn’t help either. You eventually caved when he promised to consider you for a full-time/live-in maid if you did a good job. 

Then two days after he left, you got a late night call from him. You were honestly happy for it, because the house felt too big and too empty with just you there. It didn’t help that the room he left for you was far too nice, and you missed sharing your bed with your little sisters. Suffice to say, being all alone was unsettling for you

“Sorry if I woke ya’ Y/N, I-I just…” he said, nervousness clear in his voice. “I-I just been lookin’ for somethin’ and I think I forgot to pack it.”

“You want me to look for it?”

“If you could be a doll,” he says, relieved. “Ju-just take a look in my room, and see if you can find it there. It’s a black cowboy hat, and I think it was in a white box in the closet.”

You set the phone aside and made your way up there. When you do find it you let him know as much, but decide to have a little fun with it now that you’re up. “I found it Mr. Presley. But there is a problem.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It looks better on me,” you say as you look at yourself wearing it in the mirror. 

“I bet it does,'' he says between laughs. This does create a bit of a pause between you two as you recognize that you’re essentially flirting with your boss, and to your horror he’s flirting right back. 

“So is this for a movie or are you just going to run away to become a cowboy?” You say in an effort to change the subject. 

You hear the smile in his voice as he says, “Much as I wish it was the last one, it’s for my next movie. Dolores del Rio’s gon’ be in it.” 

You’re floored at that. “¡No manches! She’s my favorite actress. I thought she wasn’t ever coming back to Hollywood.”

That gets the two of you talking about movies for hours. It was easy to forget that you’re talking to one of the most sought after stars in Hollywood right now as he gushes about his favorite actors the same way you do. What surprises you most is when he asks you who you’ve met while working in LA. 

“I’ll never tell,” you tease. 

“What, you hate ‘em that much Darlin”?” he laughs.

“Yes,” you jokingly agree, ignoring the way your heart skipped at that nickname.

“I ain’t surprised though,” he says. “There’s some crazies livin’ out there. Ones that’ll ya’ call in the middle of the night ‘bout a cowboy hat, and have you on the phone ‘til… wow 3 in the morning.”

“And some maids are crazy enough to lay in their bed and let them,” you counter, only to clamp up and realize how bad that sounded from the strangled noise he makes on the other side of the phone. You quickly try to backtrack and promise you didn’t mean it that way. 

He reassures you that he takes no offense from that, but he does sound like he’s breathing heavier now, and you worry that you accidentally took the harmless flirting with him too far. You quickly give an excuse to leave, “I have a busy day of sitting on your house tomorrow.” You're glad he laughs at that but it does sound a little stiffer than the other one he’s so freely given. After you hang up you tidy up what you can, and make your way back to your room, hoping to pray some dangerous thoughts away.

The next day you try to act like nothing happened, but that’s all thrown out the window that night as Elvis calls again with a similar request to find a pair of his boots that he couldn’t find, and it proceeds much like the previous call. Eventually after the second week of nightly calls he drops the act entirely and calls just so he can talk to you. And you welcome them, because it made the house feel less empty when he did.

When he got back to LA you didn’t know what to expect from him anymore as the late night calls turned into late night talks in the kitchen. That turned into daylight jokes and conversations between the two of you. And honestly even more open flirting between the two of you, but it all came to a head one day as the two of you were walking down the stairs. 

“So wait? Your character hears a song on the radio that you, Elvis, sang, and he doesn’t talk about the fact that you look exactly like him.” 

“It ain’t Shakespeare, but it’s gettin’ me back out there,” he says sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“That’s too bad,” you say as you reach the bottom of the stairs. “I think you would make a great Romeo.”

“Oh…” he says, his voice going low for a moment, as in the next moment you find yourself trapped between him and the railing. “Tell me Satnin, what ‘bout me reminds you a Romeo.” 

Your heart is pounding in your chest and your breathing is a little heavier than it was before. The smirk on his stupidly plush lips tell you he no doubt wanted this reaction, so you decide to show him what it was that reminded you of Romeo, and kiss him fully on the mouth. It was a quick peck on the lips but you could still see the faint traces of your lipstick on him. “Those are what remind me of Romeo.” 

He’s stunned at your boldness but no less welcoming as he brings a hand to your face to bring you back, but you use that opportunity to step on to the bottom step and away from him. You leave him on that staircase, your face warm at what you just did, biting your lip to keep from fully laughing at Elvis’ frozen state on the steps. 

Later that same day, he would tell you how his upcoming movie was going to be shot in Hawaii, and how coincidentally, he felt that you were in desperate need of a vacation. The rest was history for the two of you. 

You love Elvis Presley.

You love everything about Elvis Presley, save for one thing. 

His friends.

You will admit you like a few of them. Most of the others are fine, but indifferent towards you. Some of them get on your nerves but otherwise you can live with them, like when they tease you over your accent or snicker under their breath when you forget words. You don’t like it, but you put up with it. 

One of them you absolutely hated, with all of your being: Eric. 

He’s the one that has been around the longest with Elvis. He went on tour with him in the early days, went to Germany with him, and now he’s here in Hollywood with him. He even brags he was the one to give Elvis the final push he needed to get on stage. Yes he was more partial to the party lifestyle than the others, and had a tendency to speak without much thought, but Elvis reassured you that he was deep down a good guy.

You find that hard to believe, because you don’t know what it is about you that Eric finds so offensive, but whatever it is, it’s apparently unforgivable in his mind. 

Even though you spoke it just as well as Spanish, most people assumed you didn’t speak English at all. You let this slide mostly because you’re nosy and people are a lot freer with their words around you when they think you can’t understand them. You begin to regret that decision when Eric got comfortable enough to tell you how badly he wanted to fuck you and what he would do when he did. Usually your go to tactic was to start speaking rapid Spanish, which like most white people, made him confused and very uncomfortable, pick up a cleaning tool and walk into a different room, usually one where you knew Elvis was.

“You’re a lil’ fuckin’ whore you know that?” he would seethe while you cleaned the kitchen the night you were all set to leave for Hawaii. “Just like the rest of ‘em. He’s only taking you because he wants to fuck you.” The foul smell coming from him tells you that he’s been drinking, so you’re on edge right now. Everything about this is setting you off right now, and you know you have to get out of here right now. 

…But not before you got the last word in.

You look him right in the eyes, and as he sees the understanding in your eyes, you can also see him realize before you speak your first word to him, that you knew this whole time what he had been saying to you.

“Probably,” you say, and then you turn right around and make you way to Elvis that night.

You don’t if it’s embarrassment for what you heard him say to you, shame that you heard what he said or fear that you could and would tell Elvis at any moment what he’s like to you when no one was around. Whatever the case may be he would spend the next few years making comments under his breath about you, passive aggressively handing you plates to and glasses to clean, so on and so forth.

As did a lot of his friends, as they didn’t take you seriously at first, thinking you were going to eventually be replaced, that was until the argument that had his former manager walk away. When the press had learned about you, they had called you Elvis’ “Hot Tamale,” which you didn’t love, but what you loved even less was the threat that this story posed to his career.

But that’s also when you know you fell for him completely. Even you had fully expected him to drop you the moment the press got wind of you, because celebrities as big as him simply don’t end up with the maid, let alone a maid that looks and sounds like you. But he didn’t. He didn’t flinch at any of the things they threw at him: Not when his manager walked, not when the studio threatened to pull his contract, not even when a veritable mob stood outside the gates of his home demanding he be arrested for “indecency.” He took all of it, all so that you two could be together. 

Colonel Tom Parker wanted you gone, and forgotten. The last time you ever saw him he was saying shit like how he didn’t want Elvis to be so “controversial,” and how he would ruin his image as a “good American boy,” over quote “some little wetback.” You got the pleasure of seeing his face turn from angry to murderous as those words left that man's vile mouth, and the way every other face in that room drained of color as he went off on him had you breathing a little heavier by the end of it.

Though it all worked out for the better in the end as Elvis had ten new offers from people who worked with Brando and Dean before he was even out of the gate (all asking for a lot less than what he was paying the Colonel). None of them were afraid to take such a “scandalous” client, and were even able to work it in his favor to get more serious roles he had always been after.

Eventually most people seemed to get over it, and you became the new “it” girl, as magazines went from criticizing you for every little thing that was “unamerican” about you to praising how “exotic” and “spicy” you were. It doesn’t matter what they think, so long as you were with Elvis, you were untouchable, you believed. 

That is why you put up with his friends, it felt like after all that he does for you, the least you could do was fight your own battles. 

You had woken up today well-rested and your baby moving beneath your heart. You would have labeled it a perfect morning if it weren’t for the fact that your husband was absent, as he was currently doing reshoots for his movie half a world away right now. 

He had been furious at the studio for this, and tried everything he could to delay shooting because he wanted to be with you as much as he could right now. He had made it no secret how he wanted a big family, and having grown up in one you couldn’t help but agree eagerly. You were engaged for about a month in total, he was so impatient to start trying for a baby, but you were no better in all honesty.

It eventually took when you were with him in Hawaii for the original shoot of the movie. As appealing as being with him there right before your baby is due sounds, you can’t think of anything worse than a more than ten hour flight. You barely survived the flight back home when you were just barely into your pregnancy, you doubt you would be able to make it this late. Besides, you're saving your patience for flying for your upcoming stay in LA, as you had made plans to have your baby there. 

Graceland has become home to you, but Memphis has not. You’ve known since the moment that Elvis decided you were it, that the two of you would be toeing the line. Because being latin, the law here didn’t technically make it illegal for you two to be married, but certain people here made it very clear that they take your marriage as some cardinal sin. As a result, when you are here, you never leave Graceland without him. 

Usually you loved being here. When the house is filled with friends and family it actually does feel like a home, and even when it’s just the two of you, neither of you ever feel lonely. But without him, you now feel the way you did when you were just house sitting for him.

This is why, when you learned about the reshoots, you insisted on being in LA, so you at least wouldn’t be as cooped up there as you were in Graceland and you would have your family nearby. That was one of the biggest fights you’ve had in all the years you’ve been together, as you hated the idea of being in Graceland without him, and he hated the idea of you being in LA without him.

You didn’t relent until you found out why he was so reluctant to have you there. He didn’t want to scare you, but he had learned a while ago that someone had broken into the Hillcrest house. Nothing was taken, but it scared him nonetheless, and he wanted you to stay in Graceland just so he could have the peace of mind. And for all that it made you feel restrained, you can’t help but agree that Graceland is safe so long as you stay within. Red and Pat as Elvis didn’t want you without protection and Pat was pregnant too, so you didn’t have to feel so alone in the house. But Pat, unlike you, was free to leave at any time she pleased and you can’t begrudge her for doing so.

Of course Elvis has been trying to make your confinement easier by calling you every night. He missed you just as much as you did, and didn’t want to go a day without at least hearing your voice. Some calls are sweet, where he asks you to hold the phone to your belly so that he can talk to the baby, and funnily enough you notice that when he does the baby kicks like crazy. There are of course less than sweet calls, the ones that have you be as vocal as possible as you grind down onto his pillow.

Last night's call was different though, just from how much of a mood he had been in already. He had called to tell you that Eric and Joe were on their way back early, and with the venom dripping from his voice, you knew it had to be bad. He didn’t go into detail, but from what you understood is that Eric had been “fucking around” and now Elvis wants nothing to do with him. So much so that he was sent back to Memphis a week earlier than the rest of them, all so that he can get all of his things from Graceland before Elvis’ return. Joe’s only coming to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. With Red already here you figure that the two of them should be able to take him, but you doubt he’ll try anything now of all times when Elvis is so mad at him already. 

Eric had been like a looming black cloud over this whole experience, making jabs that he now understood the rush to get married so quickly and how Elvis is now trapped. Elvis was able to deflect these comments by joking how if anything he trapped you. Though in the few times he’s gotten you alone, the comments turned into how Elvis should best make sure you’re having a baby, to how he better make sure it’s his baby. You didn’t like what he was implying but you also knew that he was just saying shit to see what stuck, and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Most of the other men had taken the hint when you and Elvis were gushing about how big of a family you wanted and had quietly moved their things out of their designated rooms, and into their own houses, while Eric seemed to dig himself in like a tick. You know Elvis is never about to ask someone to leave, and much as you would like to see this man off for the last time you decided it would be best not to counter him and to just stay upstairs for the time being.

The uppermost floor was your and Elvis’ own little world, where you two were just a young married couple awaiting the arrival of the first addition to your family. This is where the two of you could retreat away from everyone and just be. But with one of you gone it felt wrong, and you find yourself restlessly cleaning and organizing the floor above trying to make everything absolutely perfect for his return.

Though being roughly a little over seven months, you’re almost immediately exhausted and you find yourself resting your feet in what will become the baby’s room. It’s quickly become your favorite room in all of Graceland, with the little stuffed animals everywhere and the music notes painting the wall. You have no idea if the baby is going to be a boy or girl, but Elvis swears that he’s ready to pull the trigger on a theme the moment you figure it out. 

“¿Qué piensas?” you say to your bump, enjoying the breeze from the open balcony door. “Una patada para los vaqueros o dos para las princesas.” The baby kicks three times, and you laugh while rubbing your belly. Later on you would recognize this to truly be your last moment of peace. 

“How precious,” a vile voice sneers at you. 

Your smile instantly drops and rather than acknowledge him, you look out the window with your hand protectively over your baby. They're kicking up a storm, almost beat for beat matching your heart rate. “Elvis says, you’re not allowed to be up here,” you say curtly.

"He also says to keep the dogs outside, but I see a little bitch right in front a me." 

"I think big bitch would be more appropriate," you say, all the while rubbing your belly. He's always hated not being able to get a reaction out of you, or how you've never gone to Elvis about what he does as though he's not worth the air it would take to do so. Counter to what people believe about people like you, you’re very capable of keeping your cool and you save your passion for your love not your hatred. And you have no love for Eric.

“You must be so goddamn proud a yourself, being able to get your claws in him like you did,” he spits out. “Struttin’ around here with that little bastard in your belly like the cat that ate the canary.”

“Wait, I thought I was a dog?”

“...What?” 

“I’m confused because you said I was a dog and now you’re saying I’m a cat.” you say coyle while sarcastically throwing your hands in the air. “Tell me Eric, what am I?”

“You’re a little fuckin’ whore is what you are!” he shouts. “You know damn well that there wasn’t no break-in at Hillcrest. He just doesn’t want you in LA because he don’t want you fuckin’ around behind his back! I tried tellin’ him as much, but he didn’t want to hear none of it.”

You stand up and walk out of the room, not willing to hear anymore lies of a sad miserable man that has been digging his own grave for years. You weren’t even there, so he cannot seriously blame you for whatever he did to get himself fired. You know better than most how hot Elvis can run, but you also know how quick he is to forgive, so whatever he said or did to get Elvis this way, must have truly been something. 

You make your way to the office, hoping to lock yourself in there and that his outburst caused enough of a commotion to get the other men’s attention. He’s still spewing vile at you, but you’re simply blocking it out until you feel a hand yank your head back hard. 

Everything happens quick after that, as you feel the back of your being yanked away from your intended destination and being led to a different direction. You try your best to scratch at the hand that holds your hair, but his grip is too tight and suddenly you’re flying. 

And then you’re not.

You’re frozen at the landing, not wanting to believe what had just happened. Your heart is pounding in your ears, you feel your face get wet, and most horrifyingly, your baby is not moving. The carpet on the floor begins to be dotted with red but you don’t understand where it’s coming from until a little blood makes its way into your eye. As you hear the heavy footfalls coming down the stairs you start hyperventilating, trying to get a hold of the bannister and praying that he’ll stop. 

Getting to the railing you hear someone shouting what was that!?!? And someone else shouting where’d he go!?!? You see the others finally at the bottom of the stairs and for a moment the nightmare is over and you think he wouldn’t be so stupid as to continue now, but then you feel a foot firmly place itself on your back. You’re thrown off balance and you’re plummeting down once again. You’re abruptly put to a stop as Red and Joe meet you halfway up the stairs, and they share a worried look at you. You feel fine now, but you will admit that the slick feeling coming from between your legs is uncomfortable. 

You’re confused as to what’s going on, Red rushes his way up the stairs to your tormentor who only gives you a cold look as he’s being restrained. Joe is helping you to your feet and rushing you out the front door while Pat grabs your purse and yells at Mary to call Elvis. 

They’re taking you to the cars and you’re not sure why, you just need to clean the blood off of yourself and you’ll be fine. It isn’t until you look down and see the dark red that stains your blue dress do you realize what’s happening. 

Joe was able to get you to the hospital without issue, but your journey didn’t get any easier from there. The whole experience was nothing but a nightmare for you. Your accented English and skin tone has the nurses trying to direct you to, quote, a more “appropriate,” hospital for you. Even the blood staining the front of your dress and the clear pain you’re in doesn’t seem to sway them. You’re ignored by the staff, as you beg to be seen by a doctor and it’s not until you slap your driver's license on the counter and they see your married name do they suddenly care very much about you and your baby. Or at the least they don’t want to be known as the hospital that turned away Elvis Presley’s wife.

They get you in a wheelchair, and as they take you to the maternity ward, they repeatedly ask you questions and you’re positive you’re speaking English, but none of them seem to understand you. Not even three hours ago you were complaining to Mary how the baby was giving you heartburn, and now you’re in a hospital, with not a single familiar face in sight, begging incoherently for someone to save your baby. 

This is why you had wanted to be in California, where you would have a better chance of having a doctor that spoke Spanish with you. But now here in Memphis, you’re more likely to get a unicorn to deliver your baby, than a doctor that can speak your first language. 

Your legs are held apart by nurses, who don’t care to be gentle with you, as you desperately cling to the rails of your hospital bed, feeling like you’re going to crack your teeth as you desperately push the baby out of you. The pain you feel from the rest of your injuries is nothing compared to this, but you feel like you're seconds away from passing out after each push. But you know you have to keep going because every second that the baby is still in there, the less likely they are to make it. 

And with one final push it’s all over. Amá told you how long the whole thing could be, but your baby came into the world quick and so quiet. You can feel yourself bleeding out more and more, but you still want to see your baby and you ask as much before you pass out. 

When you come to, you don’t know where you are, you don’t know how long you’ve been there, and all the staff is willing to tell you is that you're restricted to bed rest due to the fact that you nearly died from a hemorrhage, and that your baby girl is alive. That’s how you find out you have a daughter, and all you know about her is that she’s alive and you can’t see her. 

You allow for visitors, and the only ones who do come to see you are Pat and Joan, Joe’s wife. Despite your wish to not be alone, seeing Pat’s baby bump only gave you an empty feeling. They let you know that you had been given birth two days ago, that Red and Joe are holding down Graceland, and most importantly Elvis is going to be here soon. 

You don’t ask about Eric. 

You’re glad they’re here even if all you can do at the moment is cry, and feel hollow on the inside.

He looks awful, is your first thought when you see your husband for the first time in almost a month. His eyes are bloodshot, his outfit is wrinkled, and you can see a hint of stubble even from where you're sitting. The girls quickly make their way out as Elvis makes his way over to your side, his chest heaving and his breathing ragged. 

Elvis is not one for tears, but you can only watch helplessly as the love of your life falls apart in your arms. You thought you'd cried yourself dry at this point, but even now you find yourself holding back even more tears as you try to wipe his tears away. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whimpers against your palm. Your heart is  in your throat at this point, knowing he only ever calls you by your name when it’s serious. “I shoulda been here for ya’, this is all my fault.”

“Amor… Amor, please look at me,” you beg. “This isn’t your fault.”

“Y/N, please tell me what happened,” he pleads. 

“They didn’t tell you?” 

“They did… I-I just,” he takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I need to hear it from you.”

You’re trying to get your breathing under control, but finally you whisper to him what happened. You’re saddened and humiliated as you tell him how your own pride got you into this mess. The pride that liked to frustrate and rile up Eric, because you thought it was funny. The pride that prevented you from telling Elvis, because you wanted to feel like you were the one handling it. The pride that made you turn your back on a man you knew to be dangerous, because you thought he would never do anything to you. And now people are suffering because of you.

You beg him for forgiveness in the part you played in this, and you’re honestly surprised when he sticks by you and you bury your face in his chest. He tells you there is nothing to forgive, but you can see the dangerous gleam in his eyes as he asks if you want to press charges against him, and you shoot that down just as quickly. 

You don’t trust the police, something that has been with you since your earliest memory, Apá telling you about his scars that he got for having the audacity to wear a Zoot Suit as a young man. Navy men had beaten and stripped him in the streets and then afterwards policemen who saw the whole thing arrested him as though he were the problem. It was a scary thing to tell a little girl, but the older you got the clearer the story became: the police aren’t there to help people like you. 

That’s why you told Elvis not to take it to the police, just to have Eric leave Graceland and never come back. It’s going to be a hassle getting the state to acknowledge your daughter as his, let alone getting them to recognize that anything bad happened to you. You just want to put this whole thing behind you and never have to think about this again. Elvis frowns at that, but you doubt after everything you went through he’s gonna deny you this. 

After things have settled, the doctors make their way to your room, now that Elvis is here, they’ve decided now is a good time to tell you what’s happened. They tell you that the fall caused something called placental abruption and as a result you went into labor prematurely. It also caused internal hemorrhaging that caused you to pass out. None of that mattered to you really, you simply wanted your baby with you, and you let them know as much.

The doctors share a look, but they allow you to leave the bed and Elvis wheels you to where they’re keeping your baby. There is a whole team of doctors and nurses to greet you and tell you how you can see her, and what to prepare for. They escort the two of you to a private room farther away and with private security guarding it.

And then you see her… Your baby girl. 

You never thought babies could be so small.

She lies there, wires attached to her and tubes up her nose. She’s too small to even know how to eat and they have to use a tube in her mouth and a needle in her hand. Her little feet kick at the air, her tiny fists are clenched, and her eyes are shut tight, but you're glad to see it all, to know that your baby is still fighting, still daring to live. 

You want to be able to hold her, to let her know her mamá is there with her, but they tell you she’s not ready to be outside of her box yet, and they warn you of how delicate she is right now, and that the slightest change in her environment could be devastating, so touch is to be limited. The doctors told you that they had almost lost her in the beginning, but she’s a fighter and things are looking up. 

They leave the two of you alone with her, when one of the nurses playfully suggests Erica as a first name on her way out. All at once it hits you like a freight train, why your baby is the way she is now and who is to blame. You weep silently, so she can’t hear your grief over the situation: your baby is weak, so you have to be strong for her now. 

“I hate him. I hate him so much.” You sob, your hand pressing on to the warm glass that separated you and your child. Elvis wraps his arms around you, he doesn’t need to ask who you’re talking about. 

All this time Elvis has been so quiet, and he swiftly wraps you in his arms as he promises to take care of everything, and as he wipes the tears from your face he swears that he will make everything better again. 

You know, in spite of the horror that it was to get her here, you’re both overjoyed to finally be able to meet her. But all too soon the both of you are escorted out and away from her. They explain that once you’re discharged, you and only you will be able to stay with her on a long-term basis, but policy prevents Elvis from being able to do so as well. No amount of money or argument will change that. 

The next few days you vaguely register the visitors Elvis brings to see you, but you can’t bring yourself to care about any of it. They all come with well wishes and promises to do anything the two of you need during this time. The men look haunted to see you in such a state and they promise you that they’ll personally make sure Eric never does anything like this again. It’s little consolation to you considering it already happened once.

Finally you’re discharged and you walk yourself straight to the NICU. You visited her as often as you could, as did Elvis, and getting to be with her throughout the day is a step in the right direction. Being there with him makes it easier, but soon Elvis has to leave and your heart breaks all over again. You part with a long sorrowful kiss and you save your tears, knowing that of all times, this is the moment you need to be strong, for both him and your daughter. It was a hard, sleepless night for you and one look at the bags under his eyes and the bruises on his knuckles when you see him the next morning, tells you that Elvis had a similar night to you. 

He smoothes out your brow, as he softly pleads with you not to worry about him and instead to focus on your daughter, as she’s the one who needs you the most. And as he gives you a kiss on your forehead and you wonder what you did to deserve such a loving husband. 

You begged Amá to stay home, not wanting to have to worry about her being this down south without you. She’s apparently been praying everyday for you and the baby, and she’s begging you for the name. You want to tell her so badly, but you can’t risk telling her fearing it will somehow get back to the world at large.

You and Elvis had thought long and hard about the perfect name for your first-born and with everyone seemingly wanting to have a say in it, it was a little overwhelming (with how easy your pregnancy was going you stupidly thought that this was going to be your biggest hurdle to overcome. You wish you could go back to those days).

Eventually though you were able to come to some agreement born from your mutual love of I Love Lucy, though the names mostly stemmed from a joke when some of the magazines started calling you two the new Lucy and Desi. Neither of you could figure out who was supposed to be Lucy and who was supposed to be Desi. And as a play on that, the two of you ultimately decided on Lucía for a girl and Richard for a boy, as a fun little reversal. 

You had been so eager to tell the world about your beautiful baby not even a week ago and now it feels like the last piece of this whole ordeal that you can control. Even the hospital staff only know her as “Baby Presley,” promising that you would only name her once she was discharged. Someone had snuck into the hospital and was able to get a picture of your baby in a box attached to wires and fighting for her life, while the newspapers excitedly announced “It’s Girl!” to all of America. Your husband saw his own daughter for the first time on the front of a newspaper walking into the hospital before he could see her in person or even know if you were dead or alive. It felt like the whole world saw your baby before you did and that hurts you in a way that you fail to find words for in either language you speak. 

That entire stay, you didn’t leave the hospital once, and you rarely ever left her side, and even then it was only when Elvis could be in there with her in your stead. The days all seemed to blend together for you, you would eat so she could eat, you would sleep when she slept, singing and telling her stories everywhere in between, and touching her as frequently as you’re allowed to do so. 

Early when you tried to speak Spanish to her in front of the doctors, they immediately shut you down, “warning” you that doing so has the potential to hold her back if she has to learn another language in the long run. You internally roll your eyes at that, having grown up speaking both, but nonetheless you comply, but save it for when you’re alone with her. On the list of things you absolutely do not need right now is the media turning on you for being a bad mother by not complying with doctors orders. They already make comments on how you should have been more careful in the situation, because as far as anyone outside of Graceland knows, you simply fell down the stairs.

You wouldn’t say it was all bad, you love the moments you’re all together. Moments where you both hold her hands at the same time and feel her delicate skin, where you hear her gurgle as she’s being tickled, and especially the way she wiggles her arms and feet as Elvis sings to her, are ll moments you would never trade trade regardless of the fact that you’re in a cold sterile room and not in your warm home. Elvis even brought a record player and the nights became a little more bearable as now you’re both able to hear him when he’s not there. 

Finally you’re able to get the all clear from the doctor and Lucía finally gets to experience the world outside of her little clear box for the first time in short bursts. You’ll be able to hold your baby fully and not be limited to just holding her hand. In many ways you were not ready to lose being so close to her so fast, and this was only made worse by the fact of how limited you were in touching your own baby during this whole time. And still you worry that maybe she’s still not ready, as you’re still roughly a month away from your original due date.

But as you’re finally able to hold her and you feel her latch on and nurse from you, these doubts and fears all fall silent. Your baby was almost completely ripped away from you, by someone who only had cruelty and spite in their heart for you. But now as she rests in your arms and feeds from you getting stronger, and your husband holds the two of you close to him everything feels as it should be now. 

Not too long after that, Lucía is finally able to be discharged and you can finally take her home. Elvis was nervous no doubt, from all the times he questioned the doctor if he was sure that she was ready and if she couldn’t stay a little longer just to be sure. You have similar thoughts but you’re trying to think on the brighter side of the situation, for the both of you.

Of course you and Elvis still have to do that photoshoot for the press. You hate this, but also recognize that getting this out of the way now will sate their curiosity about your baby and get them to leave you alone, at least for now. You and Elvis recognized this would be the case when you saw them go into a near frenzy the moment you stepped off that plane from Hawaii with an obvious baby bump months ago. 

Ironically enough the only thing that has gone according to plan was this aspect, as you were able to get photographers you’re familiar with and Elvis brought the outfits you picked out months ago. His fans were also willing to give the two of you a wide berth so that you could leave the hospital. You are far too enamored with Lucía to really take notice of any of it, until the two of you are already in front of home. 

Your mood drops once you see where you are, and Elvis takes notice of that. He squeezes your hand and reassures you that everything's been cleaned and that the trash’s been taken out. Still, walking through the front door, you held onto his arm for dear life and your hands were shaking so bad you had him hold Lucía, as you were afraid you would drop her. You're greeted inside by a few friends and his family, but your eyes immediately narrow in on the stairs and you're relieved to see that it’s completely clean. Without the bloodstains, it’s easier to forget that anything terrible happened here. 

Everyone wants to get to see her and the two of you are immediately, but a squeeze to his arm from you and the subsequent single look he gives them has them back up a little. You’re able to sit down in the living room, and hold your baby in your home for the first time, but not all is right in the world. No one has said anything about the big Eric shaped elephant in the room, as they all no doubt know why you went into labor so early.

The women do their best to distract you from it, talking about their own experiences being a new mother, and how this has been a stressful time for everyone, especially the men who’ve been jumpy for weeks now. But no matter what your attention keeps being drawn back to the stairs, as though any minute Eric’s going to be trotting down to finish the job any moment now. You try to distract yourself with anything else in the room, and that’s when you notice something off about the carpet. You figured that the carpet would have been replaced but what’s odd is the fact that you remember going straight from the staircase to the car as you were bleeding, so you don’t understand why the carpet in the den had to have been replaced too. 

You shake these concerns from your head and begin to make your way outside to get some air, because the walls are making you feel like you’re going to suffocate. That’s where you find the men, as all smoking within Graceland had been banned for the foreseeable future, and Elvis still insisted on finally using those cigars he got for the occasion. What’s weird is that they don’t surround the patio or even the pool area. No, you find them more out towards the field, surrounding a large unsightly hole in the ground.

“Amor, what did you do to the backyard?” You question your husband when he makes his way back to where you’re sitting.

Some of the men tense up at your question, but seeing Elvis not really react to the question other than a slightly nervous laugh, makes you disregard anything’s amiss.

“Well…” he says rubbing the back of his neck, “after I got done with the nursery. I-I wanted to add something to the backyard so it wasn’t so empty to look at.”

“... and you decided the best way to make it less empty was to dig a hole?”

“It ain’t gon’ stay a hole, Darlin’,” he laughs, wrapping an arm around you. “I was plannin’ on puttin’ in one a them Gazebos in the back for our little princess here. It… It kept me busy the nights I couldn't sleep.”

You soften at that answer, knowing that with his sleep issues, the nights must have been torture for him. He was always the first visitor to arrive at the ward and the last one to leave, and only once did you ever dare ask what he did when he went home at night. You worried about him, how could you not? And so one day you gathered the courage to ask him how he was handling the nights?

All he said was that he “keeps busy.” At the time you didn’t want to know what he meant, as it was a stressful time for the both of you, so digging holes in the backyard is far from the worst thing he could have been doing.

You give an amused sigh saying, “Next time, get professionals to do it.”

He grins at that, “Don’t worry baby, we got a crew comin’ in to fill the hole in a few days. I wanted to have it done before you and the lil’ one got back home.” You shake your head at him and kiss him on the cheek. You don’t really notice the way most of the men take a simultaneous sigh of relief at your acceptance of Elvis’ answer. 

Later on you’re putting Lucía down in a little bassinet Elvis had set by your bed (you’re both reluctant to be away from her), and you feel him make his way behind you. The both of you lay beside each other and watch her sleep, and now, not having to be obscured by tubes or glass, you get to really see your beautiful baby girl. She’s sleeping with her arms straight up, her little chest rising and falling on its own, and the two of you nearly melt as she yawns and rubs her little mitten covered hands over her face. 

“You ready to sleep yet?” he whispers to you. 

“No, I just want to look at her some more.”

“Me too,” he hums. 

You sit with your husband and bask in this perfect moment.

You didn’t really notice the off-atmosphere that surrounded Graceland in those days, until you noticed that a trunk of yours was missing. You think you had packed some old baby things your mother had given you the last time you had been in LA. It had been with you in Graceland before you left the hospital, and it had also been where you were storing the outfit you wore when you left the hospital, so the fact that it’s gone is odd to say the least. Considering Elvis was the one that brought the outfit to you, he’s the one you end up asking. 

“What trunk?” he asks. 

“The big white one,” you say to him as you change Lucía into her pajamas. She’s trying to eat her fist and you’re trying to get her to smile by nibbling on her fingers a little. “The one you got me the first time in Hawaii.” 

“Oh that one,” he responds. “Didn’t you leave it at Hillcrest?”

“No, I know I brought it here.” you say confused. “I asked you to look in it to find the pink outfit I wore at the hospital. It’s gotta be here somewhere.”

He furrows his brow at that and he looks deep in thought, “Didn’tcha say that you didn’t want to pack clothes that don’t fit no more?” He says as he brings Lucía to rest on his bare chest. 

You do vaguely remember saying something along those lines when you were packing, but still you remember having it here with you. “Maybe… but I did bring it here,” you say, though not as sure as you once were.

“Y/N, why you wanna know so bad?” he says, as he gently pats Lucia on the back trying to get her to fall asleep. This question throws you a bit, not for the words themselves, but the way he said it, as there was a severe lack of humor or warmth in his tone as he said that, that you weren’t used to. 

“I-I was looking for a few baby things that Amá gave me last time I saw her.” you say, suddenly feeling guilty for pushing the topic. 

His eyes soften at your answer, realizing he scared you. He holds up your chin and gives a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“I-I think, I saw ‘em when I I was lookin’ for the little pink get up a yours,” you see him jump a little. “Though you might wanna save the lookin’ for tomorrow,” he says, a slight grimace on his face, as he looks down at your baby girl. “‘Cuz lil’ one here is trying to tap a dry well.” You burst out laughing as you see that Lucía has a good grip on one of his nipples and is trying desperately to bring it to her mouth. 

“Esos son para mamá, chula,” you jokingly scold her, as you bring her close to you so she can latch onto you, and Elvis tickles your side in reprimand. Still even with that moment of levity, you still can’t let go of what just happened. If it were anything else you would have written it off but that trunk was special to you because of the fact that Elvis had given it to you on that fateful trip to Hawaii. He had insisted you pack light, which confused you until about a week later when by that point he had already gifted you twice as many dresses as you had come with. By the end of the trip he gave you this trunk just to pack everything he had given you. (Smooth operator that he was, when the trunk found its way into his room when you got back home, he insisted it would be easier for you to move into his room, rather than moving the trunk into yours).

It has been a pretty constant presence in your relationship with him, as it went where you went, and you went where he went. But… you didn't go with him to Hawaii, and you did leave a lot of old clothes back in LA… maybe it is just baby brain, and you’re overthinking this.

Things only really seem to click that something is off a few days later when you caught Charlie staring out into the backyard. If it were anybody else from the group you wouldn’t have noticed or cared too much, but you liked Charlie. He seemed to be one of the more genuine ones of them all, and he’s also one of the few of them who's at least picked up on some of the more common Spanish phrases in all the years you’ve known him.

But now Charlie seems distant, as though he’s somewhere else in his head. He’s staring off into the same direction as where that pit is now. 

“Charlie, ¿qué pasa?” you ask, and he seems to jump ten feet in the air. 

“Y/N, hi-hello… um…I-I, d-do ya’ need something?” he manages to stutter out. 

“Yes umm…” you say slightly embarrassed about what you’re about to ask. “I want to put Lucía down for a nap, but I need someone else to help carry her up there with me.” You would have asked Elvis, but he’s upstairs already and you’re not about to leave her alone to go get him.

“Sure, but… why do you need help,” he asks, genuinely confused over the request. 

“I… well, since the fall, I… I don’t trust myself to hold her on the stairs,” you say, your eyes going a bit glassy. You shake your head to gather yourself, “I ju-just need someone else to carry her on the stairs. I’m fine on my own.” If by fine you meant having to have both feet on each step going up and down, and never letting go of the railing, then yes very fine. Elvis was heartbroken when he saw this the first time, but didn’t say anything about it, just offered you his arm and let you take your time. 

Charlie has the same reaction and wordlessly helps you with her. Though you do trail behind him you eventually are able to make it up to the landing, where you see Elvis whispering something to him. You think he says something to the effect, you understand now? Charlie would give a small nod in response as he hands Lucía to him and makes his way down the stairs after giving you a quick hug. 

You’re about to ask what that was about, when you see something on one of the steps that knocks the wind out of your lungs. You see a familiar looking rust colored spot on one step, and you force yourself to sit down, feeling unsteady on your feet and your eyes welling up all of a sudden. 

“Baby what's wrong?” Elvis says trotting down the steps, Lucía still in his arms. Your hands are shaking and your breathing quicker than you should, and you're filled with the same dread that you felt as Eric walked down those same steps. “Goddamnit, I thought they got all of it” he whispers when he sees where your eyes are fixated. He crouches down beside you and takes you in his arms as he whispers in your “You’re okay sweetheart,” he says, “You and Lucía are okay.” 

Gradually you feel yourself steady as you breathe in the scent of his cologne, and feel the way Lucía clutches around your finger. That brings you back down and you’re able to stop your weeping as you focus solely on the two most important people in your life.

You wouldn’t know this, but at the bottom of the steps, just beyond your view several men would come to the same understanding as Charlie did in that moment.

What did he mean about understanding? You would ask yourself later after Lucia had been fed and put down for a nap. You’re laying down in his arms, having tired yourself out from that episode, and just wanting to rest, but this question that rings in your ear, still eats at you making you unable to do so. 

These thoughts are halted as you feel him run a finger down your spine and you on reflex push your chest into his. You also feel as he brings his hips closer to yours, and he hooks your leg around his waist, lightly trailing his hand back up your skirt to rest comfortably on your ass, as you let out a shuddering breath against him, making as little noise as possible, as not to wake your baby.

He’s gentle with you, you just had his baby after all. There was no tearing so you’re healed physically, but you're glad nonetheless as you become reacquainted with his touch again. His fingers lightly trace the edge of your panties, as he nibbles on your bottom lip the way you like. 

You’re reminded of your first time with him. He had been having trouble with one particular scene in Blue Hawaii, and he asked you to come on to the set that night. He had you sit as an extra behind Joan Blackman and he kept stealing glances at you as he sang. As the scene cut there was not a dry eye on set and Elvis was heaped with praise for his best take yet, but what he was more interested in was your reaction to his song. 

He was gentle with you then as well. You confided in him before that you were untouched, and he made sure to make it as tender as possible. Careful, as he learned (as did you) what made you whimper, what made you moan, what made you scream. 

Knowing he’s gone just as long without it as you have, you want to. God, do you want to, but as you grind yourself onto his still clothed length, he makes the mistake of tugging your hair back and suddenly you're paralyzed with an overwhelming sense of dread as he kisses your neck. It takes him a second to realize that this is bad heavy breathing, but he stops the moment he realizes it. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” His worried look only makes you feel more guilty, while you try to even out your breathing. This feeling only made worse as you watch his heartbreak all over again when you tell him why you freaked out when he tugged at your hair like he did.

“I’m always gon’ protect ya’ Satnin,” he whispers to you, mindful of your baby sleeping a few feet away. “Nothin’s ever gon’ hurthcha again.”

You want to believe him. You really do.

It all comes to a head when the day before they’re set to fill the hole in the backyard, you finally find your trunk. Embarrassed at your reaction to being on some stairs, you decided to try to break this habit by confronting your fears. So one day as Lucía slept, you made your way to the attic stairs, but your fears were quickly forgotten as you stared at the previously missing trunk. It’s hard to comprehend its presence as it’s supposed to be on the other side of the country right now. Or… at least that’s what Elvis had told you. 

Whatever the case may be you can’t exactly leave it alone, and you go to inspect it a little closer. It won’t open and a brief brush on the keyhole tells you that it had been locked and the key lodged inside. You also see some dents and dings here and there, but the most noticeable change were some rust colored stains dotting the outside of it. You don’t immediately recognize what they could be, but even as your mind conjures up similar looking stains that are still on the stairs, you can’t really accept what it is.

“Whatcha doin’ up here baby?” a familiar voice behind you says, startling you for a moment. You turn to see your husband, but something is … off. His smile is a little too big, his eyes a little too wide, and if his jaw was clenched any tighter he would have cracked his teeth. It’s all far too unsettling

“I-I was practicing with the stairs, and I found this,” you say, pointing to the trunk.

Somehow he’s able to clench his teeth even tighter as he sees what you found, “I didn’t want you to find out like this, sweetheart. But I,”  he says , pausing to think on his next words. “I-I… Forget it you caught me. I broke the lock on it.” he says with a guilty look on his face. 

“...That’s it?”

“That’s all, baby. I wanted to try to fix it, but I just made it worse and now it won’t open.”

Maybe… maybe he is telling the truth and he just broke the lock… but that wouldn't explain why everything kept in there was taken out or why it was up in the attic, or why it’s covered in blood. Why is he hiding this from you?

“C’mon Satnin, it ain’t nothin’ to get so worked up about? I’ll getcha another one soon,” he says as he wraps an arm around you.

You don’t have time to really question what is going on as you hear Lucía below and you're able to stamp down that curious part of yourself. You make your way back, your feet feeling so unsteady that you clutch onto him with both hands. 

But it still eats at you, the fact that he was able to lie so easily to you, and convince you of that lie when he knew full well it was up here. And why hide it from you? These are all questions you ask yourself as you lay in bed with him, you wonder who exactly you are sharing it with. 

Your blood goes cold as you feel the bed shift right next to you, and you slam your eyes shut, genuinely fearing your husband for the first time. But these feelings of fear dissipate as feel the  quick kiss he gives your forehead before whispering to you, so low you barely hear it, “No one’s ever gon’ hurtcha and get away with it.” You’re paralyzed with fear, and have to remind yourself to breathe lest you give away that you're not actually asleep as he makes his way to the bathroom. 

You open your eyes and stare at the door and the longer you listen the clearer it becomes that he’s not using the bathroom. You also hear as several feet try to quietly make their way up the stairs and then you hear the tell-tale creak of the attic door. You silently make your way to the door and listen against it as you hear them 

You stare off into darkness as the noise gradually lessens until you’re left hearing nothing but the crickets outside and your baby’s steady breathing. You stay there frozen in place, debating internally whether you should follow them. You know in your heart that something is wrong, but you don’t want to confront it. Still after some time you find yourself in the kitchen making your way outside.

As you round the corner, you're hit with the pungent scent of cigar smoke in the air mixed with the unmistakable smell of a campfire, and you see him and all the other men stripped down to their underwear. You crouch down out of sight and you see they are all surrounding the fire pit in the backyard, piles of clothes sit next to each of them, and on occasion one of them will throw something into the fire. All of them seem to be shaking from the cold or from nervousness you can’t quite tell. All of them… except for Elvis. You know he’s prone to getting jittery when he’s nervous, but here, you’ve never seen him so collected. 

“Eric was one a my oldest buddies, and he threw that all away ‘cause he had to be a shithead to the most important person in the world to me.” Those words, cold as a grave, mixed with that vacant look in his eyes, sent shivers down your spine. “There’s a lotta things I can forgive, but what he did sure as hell ain’t one a them.” 

“EP…” Jerry says. “You don’t gotta explain yourself, we-we all woulda done the same thing.”

“I’m goin’ ta hell because that sack a shit, and I look forward to seein’ him again, just so I can beat the crap outta him again.” You can hear the smile in his voice as he says these words, as he seems to rub his knuckle, the ones you remember seeing so badly bruised when you were in the hospital.

It’s unsettling how similar this is to when you met Elvis for the first time, you crouched down, being nosy, him in his boxers trying to hide someone from you. It would be funny if you weren’t one hundred percent sure that your husband wasn’t admitting to murder right now. You don’t stick around for much longer, your curiosity is sated, but you don’t feel any better knowing. 

You don’t know when or how you end up there, but you find yourself on the stairway landing. Once upon a time you thought of Graceland as a safe haven surrounded by shark infested waters, but now you realize that that couldn’t be further from the truth. You’re swimming in it, but the biggest shark had decided that you were never to be harmed. 

You want to say that there was some internal debate on that landing, where you contemplated leaving and never looking back. How you wanted to do the morally right thing and report them for all the good it would do. How there was a part of you that stared longingly at the door feeling the desire to leave from the love that has driven him to do this for you.

You would say that… but you would be lying. 

No. You sit there taking in the new reality that the man who has repeatedly physically and emotionally hurt you is gone and it was at the hands of the man you loved the most. You feel something at this moment. A feeling that has eluded you for a while now. You feel… safe. 

It’s an odd feeling to have again. It was something you had always felt with Elvis, but not something you were ever able to verbalize. But now looking back you were always safe with him, when people got too close, when their words hurt, when their stares burned, you could always retreat into him and feel protected from the world. 

There’s a lot of conflicting emotions running through you all at once, pain and sadness at what Eric had done and all the subsequent heartache his actions brought clashing with the almost euphoric relief that is knowing he’s gone for good and it’s all due to how loved you are by a single man. If anybody were to see you right now, they would see a woman with tears streaming down her face while simultaneously giggling like a maniac. You’re only broken from this manic episode when you hear the shrill cry of your baby girl.

You feel lighter as you make your way up the stairs, so light you don’t bother to hold the railing as you usually do and you find your baby right where you left her. Your husband would return later while she’s still suckling at you, and he would make his way to sit behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder, neither of you acknowledge how long he’s been gone. No, in the soft light of the room you both bask in each other watching the little wonder you both made get a little bigger and a little stronger by the moment resting in the bassinet by your bed.

“I just realized something,” you say. You feel him go rigid behind you, but you quickly break the tension by lightly running a finger along the ridge of his nose. “She got this from you.” 

“No, she didn’t,” he says with an amused huff. 

“No, it’s the same shape, just smaller. Look,” you insist. You take one of his hands to show him, careful not to wake her. 

He concedes to your point with a soft, tender kiss to your lips, while his other hand rubs circles on your hip bone. 

You should be disturbed at where his mind is at right now, and you would be if you weren’t just as hungry for him as he was for you. It’s been too long without him, and as he runs a finger along your jaw bringing your faces closer together, you welcome him back home. 

With the straps already falling off of your shoulders, you shiver as he uses a single finger to drag the silky material over your nipples, already begging for his attention that he’s all too willing to give. He languidly laves at them, using the occasional scrape of his teeth to get you to jump, all the while pressing down on your clit through your panties, before removing them.

You're laid on your back and you feel as he spreads the delicate petals of your pussy and even you’re taken aback as to how wet you are right now. You hiss slightly as you feel him probe lightly at your entrance, and he rips his hands back afraid he had hurt you. 

You take his hand in yours and bring his fingers to your mouth, tasting yourself on him, only to bring him closer to you as you whisper against his mouth “not bad, just slower papi.” You think, in a way, you both need this: to be reminded that his hands can do more than hurt. You’re not scared of him or what he’s capable of. 

He rolls so that you're on top of him and you bite your lip at his straining cock within his boxers. You run a single finger up his length and he bites down on his knuckle as you circle around the damp spot already forming. As you spread kisses along his length, he quietly pleads to be inside you, and after all he’s done for you, you won’t deny him.

Finally you sink down on him, and a long, satisfied moan escapes from your mouth and you chance a look at your baby relieved that she’s still asleep. He gives a cheeky grin, biting down on his bottom lip to keep quiet, and you grind down on him in retaliation, though that quickly backfires on you as it feels way too good and you have to concentrate on not doing that again, as you don’t want this to end so soon.

Neither of you are in a hurry at the moment, just choosing to indulge in the connection that circumstances had denied the two of you for so long, sharing lazy kisses and secret jokes in equal measure until you can’t take it anymore. You set the pace for yourself and he is all too willing to oblige and let you chase your peak, as he’s not too far behind. You may very well be in bed with a monster, and yet you’ve never felt safer.

The next day you watch from the Balcony as the men fill the platform with concrete and you get one last look at that trunk, and hope to never see it again. Elvis joins you there, watching and holding you and your daughter, both secure in the knowledge that he’ll always be able to protect you.

You don’t end up thinking about him as much as you thought you would have. In those early days after construction had finished you had feared that the slightest slip up and everybody would know. You felt you could hardly breathe when you looked at it those months, and you were surprised and more than a little disturbed that Elvis had no such reaction to it. 

Though eventually a good memory would come to almost completely scrub out the sour taste that the Gazebo leaves you in the form of Lucía’s baptism. Even over a year later she was still so small compared to other babies her age and the doctors warned you to expect some developmental delays, but you still worried over the fact she still has yet to crawl. Most times she seems content enough to sit where she’s put and play with the toys within her reach and getting someone’s attention to get her what she wants. It’s almost as though she’s aware that Elvis is called The King, making her a princess and so she expects to be treated like one. 

Recently she’s taken to standing up using whatever’s closest, bouncing up and down on her little legs for a bit then sitting back down. You sat there letting Lucía hold your hands and do her thing, while you talked to some of the other women. Your husband on the other side of the platform, surrounded by Lucía’s godfathers (they helped him hide a body after all, this felt like the least the two of you could do to honor them), talking business.

When you felt her let go your immediate instinct was to grab her, but you stop yourself when you see that she’s not only standing on her own but shakily taking her first steps forward. You and the other women go dead silent as you watch her make a slow but sure beeline, her eyes set on her Daddy. You hold your breath so afraid that she’ll fall, but all of your muscles are tensed ready to dive in and catch her if she so much as stumbled.

Elvis was looking away, not noticing what was happening until she finally got to him and wrapped herself around his leg. Seeing her next to him throws you for a loop, as over a year ago, she was so tiny that she fit almost entirely in one of his hands, and now she stands on her own at his knee, and you really do see how much she has grown. Elvis finally turns around and sees her looking up at him, but with no one around to have helped her he doesn’t put it together until he sees your mile wide grin, and it finally dawns on him what just happened. 

You and Elvis would later joke that she, just like him, wouldn’t do something so big without an audience. And for that entire day you didn’t think once about Eric. Your little girl's first steps were over a grave, and you couldn’t be happier about it. 

When she was four, you had explained to Lucía that her father had had it built after she was brought home in celebration that the two of you had pulled through. After that she started calling it hers, and it just stuck, even when your other children were born it was always Lucía’s Gazebo. Birthday’s, barbeques, family dinners, many of them were held underneath that gazebo, and only occasionally would you even spare a thought toward Eric. 

And now as you watch your daughter dance with your husband underneath the gazebo, celebrating her quinceañera you’re glad Elvis did what he did. If that man had had his way you wouldn’t have any of this, and you refuse to feel anything close to guilt or sympathy for him.

Eventually Elvis breaks away from her to stand next to you as she now embarks on the arduous journey of dancing with her many, many padrinos. You welcome him with a tender kiss, and he holds you from behind as the two of you watch your little girl who is now becoming a woman.

“I swear she was this small yesterday,” he says while rubbing your two-year old son’s back as he rests on your shoulder right now. Elvis had been close to tears all day, with the doll ceremony nearly doing it for him as he always loved spoiling her with toys, so the idea that this would be the last one was very bittersweet for him.

For you it was the shoe ceremony that did bring you to tears, as you held her hand as she took a few shaky steps in her new heels, not so much for the first steps she took as a baby, but the painful reminder of all the things you thought you wouldn’t get to have with your little baby that couldn’t leave her box. You refuse to let that man ruin anything special for you again, and over his grave you whisper in the love of your life’s ear how it’s not too late to have another one. His eyes widen at that for a moment before he gives that devastating grin of his that won you over years ago and agrees to later.

You love Elvis Presley. And you were lucky enough to be the woman that he loves back.

@venus-haze @djsjs13949 @ilovehobi101 @butlerslut @richardslady121 @giabelia @sydneyyyya @meetme0614 @tacozebra051 @myradiaz  @thelifes-world @maythesunshineagain @rakitirakiti @lostteenagetale @j-v-9-2  @eliseinmemphis @dkayfixates  @immi547 @thatbanditqueen   @marriedtoeddie @cuteejeno @itlover8000​ @isthlsfate​ @mgparker​

[hayleylatour]

Finding peace 🕊️

Content warnings- angst angst angst!!! Hospital stay and medical care.

Summary- Mia is a 24 year old new bookstore owner who’s best friend is dating the drummer of up and coming metal band Bad Omens Nick Foilo. Jess is known for trying to set Mia up on blind dates. What happens when Mia meets Noah Sebastian

Parings- Babydaddy! Noah Sebastian X OC Mia

Chapter four- Noah’s pov ( ahhhh)

~12 weeks later~

Before our show tonight I decided to text Mia and let her know that I will be home soon to see her and finally tell the guys that were having a girl, when we told them we were having a baby and we were going to remain friends and raise the baby together, they were happy for us and supportive, confused but understood things happen.

NOAH- we are officially half way through this leg of tour

MIA- yay! so you'll be home in 3 weeks?

NOAH- yes we will. and you haven't sent me any bump updates today, how is my girl doing?

MIA- shes good, kicking me in the ribs, getting stronger everyday!!!

The next message to come through was a mirror picture show casing the bump in her floor length mirror on the closet door, Mia has been staying at mine and jolly's house for 3 weeks, we've decided that her moving out of the apartment and into the house with us was safer and more convenient, she would have her own room and bathroom, and our daughter would have her own room as well.

While bad omens has been gone, Jess and Mia have been decorating the nursery, they've decided on an underwater theme. we found out the day before Bad omens left that we were having a little girl, Mia and I chose to find out at the doctor during her last scan so we could surprise everyone.

My nerves settle as the lights go out and the crowd starts screaming. everything fades to black, my body moving on its own, going into auto pilot.

~Mia's pov~

After texting Noah good luck with the show I hopped into the shower and turn on my playlist, scrubbing paints of blue and green off my hands and legs. baby girl starts kicking when she hears the familiar sound of her daddy's voice as "The worst in me" starts playing, when Noah learned that she had developed the ability to hear he would hum against my belly, now every time she hears his voice it starts a dance party. after I exit the steam filled bathroom I make my way to the closet, Jess and I are supposed to be meeting for a late dinner at some new Mexican place. slipping on a pair of leggings and one of Noah's hoodies I grab the rest of my things before locking the house up and getting in the car.

Headlights blinding me and then everything goes black.

~third person pov~

Mia’s car had finally skidded to a stop, the windshield was shattered glass surrounding her limp body. Soon red and blue lights had made it seem mid day instead of 9pm.

“Miss! Miss! Wake up. Do you know where you are? Hello” someone was yelling at her, groaning Mia lifted her head, only to come face to face with a paramedic who had been first on scene.

“What the hell?” Her voice harsh and throat sore.

“Miss you were in a car accident, my name is Ophelia, I’m a paramedic I’m here to help you.” The woman said shining a pin light into Mia’s eyes.

“I’m pregnant.” Her words came out rushed.

“Can you tell me how many weeks pregnant you are?” The woman said switching the light from her right to her left.

“20.” She replied squinting at the light. Her head was throbbing couldn’t this woman see that. Lifting her hand and touching the side of her head.

“What’s your name sweetheart, hey don’t touch, it’s okay.” Ophelia said patting Mia’s hand away, seeing the blood mia began to panic.

“M-Mia, Mia Clark, I’m 24 years old. What is happening. I can’t feel her.” Her voice shakes she hasn’t felt her daughter move since she came too.

“Mia, we’re going to get you out of here and to los Angeles general, do you have any one we can call for you?” The paramedic’s voice was soothing, not as soothing to Mia as Noah’s voice was. He was always able to calm her down when emotions ran to high. Even when she was hateful towards him, he always seemed to understand that her body was changing and her mind wasn’t ready for it.

Mia choked “ the baby’s father is in San Diego for work”

“Okay let’s get you in the ambulance for now sweetie and we will have the hospital call them okay?” Mia shook her head. Why hadn’t she felt any movements? Crying, her hand slipped down to her growing belly. The smallest of fluttering had Mia bawling, unable to tell if it was indeed her daughter or not.

The ride to the hospital was quick. When they arrived Mia was wheeled into the hospital with Ophelia along the right side and a man on her left, the man shouting vital signs.

“Miss Clark, my name is Dr. Jean, I’m the OBGYN on call tonight, is it okay if we do a quick ultrasound on little one?” The tall man opened the curtain and began getting his equipment ready.

“Yes sir.” Mia said quickly. She just wanted to hear her baby’s heartbeat, it would calm all her nerves.

“145, that’s perfect. She’s probably just a little scared from all that commotion.” Dr. Jean had taken off his gloves and wiped the warm jelly from her belly “We left a message for your boyfriend Noah and I gave him my direct line. The medics dropped off your bag for you. I’ll have a nurse bring it in”

“Thank you doctor. Thank you so much.” Mia said quietly. Dr. Jean exited the room pulling the curtain closed behind him.

~~~~~~

“Fuck fuck fuck! Noah is going to flip.” Matt cursed. Matt had all of the guys phones in the sound deck with him, Noah’s phone was ringing off the hook. an unknown number leaving messages.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Jean, I’m the OBGYN at los Angeles general, I’m calling to talk to you about your girlfriend Mia, she has been in an accident and we need you to call us back, my direct line is option 265, please call us back as soon as you can thank you.” The voicemail repeated. Matt played it 4 times to make sure he had heard it correctly. Conflicted Matt was unsure if he should stop the show. Making the decision to cut it after the song And running backstage.

“Noah we gotta stop. Man something is wrong” Matt exclaimed out of breath.

“What happened. It’s going amazing.” Noah says setting the mic down before walking over to his friend.

“It’s Mia, you got a voice mail from a doctor at los Angeles general. Mia is in the hospital.” Matt says handing the phone to him. Noah’s heart drops.

“Cancel it, and get me a car. I’m going.”

“Noah wait, we’re 3 hours away.”

“I don’t care Matt, get me the damn car. that’s the mother of my child. Get me a fucking car and cancel the rest of the tour or you’re done! fired! I promise you that because I am not going back out there while Mia is in a hospital bed alone.” Walking away Noah quickly dials the number and enters the extension.

“This is Dr. Jean.” The man’s voice was calm, how could he be calm when the mother of Noah’s child was injured, his unborn daughter could be injured.

“Sir this is Noah, you called me about Mia Clark. Is she okay is the baby okay?”

“Noah, Mia was in a t-bone car accident, she has a head injury she’s currently getting seen by our general medical team. As for the baby we are still running test. If you could please get ahold of any family in the area.”

“I’m her only family, I’m leaving now.” Noah is frantic. The 3 hour drive back home felt as if it was 30. His heart and mind racing. What happened, were his girls okay? Is his daughter alive?

~Mia’s pov~

Some time later the curtain is ripped open, Noah is standing there tears in his eyes.

“Oh my god, angel are you okay? Is she okay” he rushes to my bedside laying his hand on the bump. I reach up and run my fingers through his now shorter hair.

“You cut your hair?” I whisper taking the strands

“Mia now isn’t the time for that okay? Yes I cut it. I missed seeing the back of my neck” he laughs taking my hand and kissing each knuckle.

“We’re okay. Waiting for a few more results but we’re okay, Wait, you had a show, Noah what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be home for 3 weeks.”

“I canceled it, I heard about you and I canceled it. You two are more important to me. And will always be more important to me than touring.” My eyes welled up with tears. Grabbing Noah’s hand and pressing it against my stomach his eyes light up as he feels his daughter kick for the first time.

“I know her name. The paramedic who brought me in. Ophelia” I whisper. Noah nods in agreement.

“It’s perfect. Boyfriend huh?” He whispers back chuckling.

“Okay I listed you as my partner i wasn’t sure what to call this I can’t exactly put down ‘baby daddy’ on the sheet” I laugh before Dr. Jean makes his way back in.

“Alright miss Clark. I think you should be just fine. Baby is measuring right on track, I see no signs of placenta abruption or anything else concerning. You do have some cuts and bruises. So watch out for infection and I would like you to call your regular OB.” Dr. Jean says flipping through the clipboard. Thanking him he lets me know that they plan on discharging me within the hour, bed rest for the next few days and no heavy lifting till I’m cleared by my doctor.

“Okay let’s go home, Angel” sitting in the wheelchair the nurse wheels me out, as Noah runs to get the car. Pulling up in the white Sudan he helps me sit and buckles me in. Kissing the top of my head as his fingers dance across Ophelia she kicks in response.

“I threatened to fire Matt if he didn’t get me a car.” Noah admits sheepishly, “I was panicked and I told him if he didn’t get me a damn car that he was done and i would make sure of it.”

“Noah you need to call one of them and tell them we’re okay.”

“I will in the morning, I just want to make sure you’re taken care of tonight." when we got home Noah ran me a bath, he sat on the toilet and talked to me, about tour and how he decided one night that he needed to see the back of his neck again.

[crinkle-eyed-boo]

Every time I walk down 46th Street between 8th and 9th avenues, I’m like MWBY Louis, cataloging all the changes…

“The slightly seedy cabaret bar where they would drink cheap wine and sing show tunes every Wednesday night still stands, but Bourbon Street, the New Orleans themed bar where Harry had thrown an elaborate surprise party for his twenty-seventh birthday, is gone, replaced by a Mexican joint advertising five-dollar margaritas all day, every day. Harry’s favorite Thai restaurant, Yum-Yum Three, is gone, though it seems Yum-Yum Two across the street has survived. (“The pad see ew there is very different there, Lou, you have to trust me, Yum-Yum Three is definitely better.”)

Four years after publishing, the cabaret joint is still there, but Bourbon Street turned a Mexican joint is now just “Backstage Tavern”. Three more non-chain restaurants are now boarded up and empty but you know what STILL STANDS?

The pad see ew WAS better at Yum-Yum Three, which is now a pizza joint.