rlmica

[hurtingmyfaves]

Unsure about how to proceed with posting my whumptober prompt fills to AO3 - I was initially gonna post them all as chapters of one fic (all the same fandom, centering around the same group of characters so none of the millions of tags multiple fandoms spanning half a page monstrosities).

But now I'm leaning more towards posting them all as separate fics in one series, mostly because one of the things I wrote came out really good and I think it'd be kind of a shame to hide it away between other chapters. They're not connected to each other so they don't have to be in the same fic.

I'm hesitant though because they're all rather short (between 650 - 1400 words at the time I'm making this post) and I'm still aiming for completionist so if things work out as planned, I'd end up with 31 little oneshots all posted separately and that feels kind of like spamming? I know it's not but *gestures*

That's a lot of words to say: generally as an AO3 user (reader or writer), which do you think is the more appropriate way to post those? (if you want to elaborate on your vote feel free to do so!)

[rememberwren]

/•Harmless Fun•\

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts

Exactly what it says on the tin. Established ghoap, bringing in fem!reader roommate. Poor writing. Reader has had any identifying features removed, but she owns a Ford Fiesta. Take that as you will. Just testing to see if there is interest in a lighthearted fun sexy fic like this. 🩶

*

“Remember. You’re desperate,” you muttered to yourself looking at your reflection in the rearview mirror of your tiny Ford Fiesta. The ink might as well still be fresh on the ad your roommate printed off for you (the perfect symbol of her guilt for moving back in with her boyfriend and forcing you to find a new apartment and new roommates in the first place).

The ad reads as thus: WANTED: ANY GENDER WELCOME to fill the second bedroom in a 2b/2ba 1290sq ft apartment. DOWNTOWN. In-building laundry. Utilities and rent split EVENLY amongst 3. NO FASCISTS, NO HOMOPHOBES.

It was the most promising ad you had seen after days of scouring the internet in your every spare moment (usually reserved for those moments when you were on break during shifts, feet and back aching, hating your life OR at the end of a long day when the post-sunset depression hit with all the force of a typhoon). Any two people who were against fascism and homophobia were alright in your book. As for the finer details—well. You were desperate. You were going to have to overlook any skeletons in their closets, as long as those skeletons weren’t literal.

I’m texting about the apartment downtown. Is this the right number?

Yeah, you’ve got it. Nice to text ya. You’re interested?

Very. Is there somewhere we could meet to discuss the details?

We don’t mind showing the apartment. Got a few others coming to see it as well. You cursed up a storm reading over that particular text, so much so that your roommate’s boyfriend knocked angrily on the thin walls separating your bedrooms. Scowling, you knocked back—a little too angry to be mistaken for conciliatory. You blamed that bastard for your troubles in the first place.

I’ll see it ASAP, if that’s okay.

Go-getter. How soon can you be here?

Which is how you found yourself in the parking lot of the building, hastily combing hairs back into place, hoping for some semblance of presentability. If only there was a way to hide the desperation in your eyes…

The apartment complex itself is everything you could have hoped for. It even has an indoor pool, which is a step up from the facilities offered at your own apartment. The rent is a little higher than what you were pulling at your old place, but you think you can manage it if you cut back on excess frivolities. And any joy. (Joy costs)

There’s a doorman even—an honest to god doorman! He instructs you on the way to the elevators, and you take them up to the top floor, feeling your ears pop from the change in altitude. By the time you’re standing in front of their door, your knees are knocking together, terrified of who you might be meeting. Even more terrified that they might not like you, that they might say no—

—and the door opens, shattering any expectation you have. The man standing there is undoubtedly, ungodly, unseemly, obscenely hot. His head nearly brushes the frame of the door, blond hair wild and mussed, like he’s just had the fuck of his life. He’s thick, too, muscles on muscles along his corded forearms, bared by the dark tee that stretches across his chest.

He is pale and dark eyed and frowning down at you so sternly that you are convinced you have knocked on the wrong door. God help you. It’s all an honest mistake—but then his gravelly, softly-accented voice says: “You’re here about the apartment?”

Your heart nearly stops. This is the person who owns the apartment? How could you be expected to live alongside this behemoth? Just as you are about to tuck tail and run, a hand grips the man’s shoulder and gently tugs him aside and another specimen—two of them! two!—appears. This one has his hair cropped in a Mohawk, his eyes a deep drown-worthy blue. A few inches shorter, he is just as impressive shape. He beams at you.

“Well!” he says, leaning on the door frame in a way that fetchingly shows off the cut muscles of his arm and chest. His voice is accented too, something rougher, different than the taller man’s. “You aren’t what I was expecting. Unless yer just a wee fascist.”

You blink. You had been thinking the very same. Your hackles rise on instinct, bristling in preemptive outrage. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’ve had a type answering the ad,” the other man says dryly. “Johnny doesn’t mean nothing. Come in—if you’re still interested in the apartment.”

It crosses your mind that this is perhaps foolish: entering an apartment of strange men, regardless of how you had left the address with your roommate and specified a time to check in with her. But you’re desperate. So you slip in after them, Johnny making ample room for you to move past him in the doorway.

When you do, you smell his shower gel, something woodsy. You say a prayer that you aren’t drooling.

Your eyes roam over the open-concept apartment. The living room and kitchen are combined, larger than you might have imagined. It is homier, too, for a place where two men live: there are pictures along the walls, potted plants in the corners and on the desk, and an easel overlooking the balcony in the corner, an oil half-rendering of the view outside.

It is tidy. It smells nice. It is owned by two of the hottest men you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.

“I want it,” you blurt out.

Johnny laughs. “Sure ya do. Let us show you everything and then we’ll talk.”

You barely manage to contain your impatience as they lead you room to room. The guest room is empty, except for some boxes that Johnny hastily promises can be moved. The closets have no skeletons (you check). You would have your own bathroom. The more you see, the more convinced you are that this would be an ideal apartment regardless of who was offering it to you, but the frequent banter between the two men (Johnny and Simon you find out) is so entertaining and inviting that it’s hard not to feel like they want you—to be their third. Roommate that is.

After every nook and cranny of the apartment has been seen, they seat themselves on the loveseat and you on the adjacent armchair, your fingers interlaced like a businesswoman about to make the deal of her lifetime.

“I still want the room,” you admit. Johnny smiles, an expression that you sense comes easily to his face. His smile falls a little when you continue: “I just have one question. Why the vacancy?”

Simon takes a measured breath. The silence grows thick as they share a glance, communicating silently in a way that only two who have known each other—who have been through things with each other—can. At length, he says: “We’re ex-military. Disabled.”

That explained the cane Johnny had been using to move around the apartment.

“The benefits were excellent until recently, when we saw a generous…cut to our monthly pay.”

You frown. “That’s terrible. Why would they do that?”

Johnny gives a breathless little laugh. His hand comes down slowly to rest on Simon’s knee. You stare, unsure what you are seeing. “Well, it happens…when you get married.”

-

��That explains a lot,” your roommate says when you spill every little detail after driving home. By the time you arrive, her insufferable boyfriend is gone for the night (thank God) so it is just the two of you, like the good old days. “Namely why two men in a two bedroom apartment are looking for a roommate.”

“I didn’t even think of it,” you groan, palming at your eyes. “Am I homophobic?”

“No, just desperate and wishful,” she teases. She has no idea how accurate she is. It’s been years—literal years since you’ve been with anyone of substance. In the meantime, you’d been happy to settle for your fingers and your toys, but there was the occasional itch that only a cock could scratch in you. Figuratively. “This is a good thing though. The last thing you need is getting tangled up with your new roommates. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Instead I’ll be in the middle of their marital bliss. Or lack of, depending on the day,” you suggest dryly. But you aren’t even sure how much you believe your own words. Simon and Johnny said they had been together for nearly ten years, and more than their words, you had seen them with your own eyes—the way they gravitated to each other, the way their eyes were never far from each other. The way they roasted each other so good-naturedly. They seemed like a couple who were past their seven year itch, who had grown older and comfortable with each other. They seemed like they had their shit together.

Did it make you terrible that you still wanted to be pinned between them like a bug in a science project?

“Then tell them no,” she says, sitting on the edge of your bed. You see the guilt in her eyes, and it makes you just a little vindicated. Which makes you feel terrible. “You’ll find something. I promise. You could always stay with us until you do—“

“God no. No offense.”

“None taken. I think.”

You sigh. You nudge her with your foot. “Alright, out, I need to think.”

But it takes such little thought when Johnny (affectionately added to your phone) messages not ten minutes later.

I don’t want to rush ya, but another person asked to see the apartment. Should I show them?

No way, you text. That room is mine.

[chiisana-sukima]

nine people i want to get to know better

Thank you for the tag, @slutsons-blog! Starting a new post because I'm autistic and therefore mostly only care about the "Current Obsession" question, and want to ramble excessively as usual in that one.

Last song: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Red Rescue Team: Pokemon Square because I'm currently playing Pokemon Mystery Dungeon with my daughter. Otherwise I honestly couldn't tell you. Whatever was on in my car.

Fave color: Purple

Currently watching: Star Trek Discovery

Last movie: Knives Out

Sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet, tart, salty

Relationship: married x 27 years

Last thing I googled: the word "dependent", for spelling assistance. which is a good thing because I spelled it "dependant".

Current Obsession: it's been spn since 2016. Truly we are the Hotel California of media franchises. I did recently play Disco Elysium twice in a row in quick succession, and I follow the DE tag. I can't recommend the game highly enough.... but I can feel my Special Interest-level obsession with it fading already. Spn has never faded even a tiny bit and I wonder if it ever will.

@slutsons-blog I feel after reading that you're watching spn for the first time, that I did you a bit of a disservice with my Sam takes to you before in that I mostly talked about Sam's evolution as a character as the show goes on and very little about him from the first five seasons.

Gotta be honest and tell you that although I liked both brothers all along, I was a Dean girl until the end of s6/beginning of s7, when the balance of who gets whumped the most started shifting and my subconscious suddenly decided to switch allegiances. It's not that I liked Dean any less; my id just loves a sopping wet pathetic kitten of a man who has been sexually abused, and Sam got suddenly way more kitteny and pathetic after the Cage. So I don't actually have a ton of takes on "what to love about Sam in the early seasons". I do love early seasons Sam too--she is my beautiful baby princess--but my early seasons takes are a lot more inchoate.

I count myself lucky about my id's sudden defection though, because I think we have limited control of who our blorbos are, and having Dean as a blorbo is a tough row to hoe as the later seasons go along. You know how you noticed that in s6, Dean suddenly gets a lot more assholey without apparent reason? Unfortunately he never gets better again, and in fact keeps getting worse and worse as the years go by, until by the last seasons he is openly far more abusive to their joint child(-in-an-adult body) than John was to him and Sam. It's a realistic picture of what can happen when trauma keeps piling up on people, but it's also honestly pretty distressing, especially if he's your blorbo.

If one is in it for the ship, there's some good destiel content in the later seasons, but if you're in it for Dean, you're left either 1) dealing with the fact he's got extremely significant interpersonal problems that he never gets much of anywhere on solving and that negatively impact his chosen family in profound ways, or 2) pretending he's the same character he was in s1 and Sam is the same Sam from s1, only more boring, and Dean is just trying to put up with him because he was brainwashed by John (or ig 3- something in the middle between those two. But that seldom seems to happen in practice for whatever reason). These two versions of the show are poorly compatible, and that's how the Sam girls and the Dean girls end up in isolated silos. A few people manage to live in both, but not many.

Anyway, I feel like without the context of how Sam and Dean change in the mid to late seasons, the two fics I recc'd as Sam character studies are going to seem insanely Dean-critical, so if you haven't read them yet, you might want to wait until s10. In the meantime, the general recs are fun reads and hopefully do a good job of showcasing both characters earlier on.

Tagging (but I would be a huge hypocrite if I didn't specify there's no pressure to respond, since I almost always fail at responding to tag games myself): @adihildilid @aliusfrater @quietwingsinthesky @sammygender @ardentpoop

@peanutbutterandbananasandwichs @schizosamwincester @normalbrothershow @jellybracelet.

[from-memphis-with-love]

Magic Man

Summary: Elvis breaks in a virgin. Word count: ~2,200 words of pure, unadulterated smut inspired by this post. This is purely a work of fiction, and from what I have read of how Elvis actually treated his lovers in real life, is probably a lot less tender and loving than the actual Elvis would have been. But it's make believe and fun, so enjoy it! Warnings: 20 year age gap, dubious consent at some points, full intercourse, course language. Somewhat callous treatment of Elvis' taste for younger women.

His bedroom is a gilded cage, dripping with excess and the stench of hedonism. Elvis's entourage has left them alone, finally, after weeks of teasing glances and knowing winks. Tonight, it’s just him and his prey—sweet little Molly van Patton. All night, she’s tried to resist, but his primal aura is too strong to deny. He’s charming. Dangerous. A seasoned, world-famous rock star. And she's just a 19-year-old innocent, trembling on the edge of womanhood. Just like he likes ‘em.

Their meeting felt like some sort of strange, cosmic joke. She wasn’t a fan, hadn’t even intended to go see his show. But her best friend convinced her, one thing led to another, and now here she is, somehow lying in his colossal bed like a tiny helpless creature, her presence filling him with a burning desire to crush and destroy.

Now, he traces his lips down her neck, pausing to nuzzle at the hollow of her collarbone. Sweetly at first, then more insistently as she drags long, jagged breaths. Molly can’t help but gasp under the full weight of him, her body opening up in ways she’s never experienced before. It’s heady and intoxicating and dangerous and delicious and—

Oh. Oh. 

Each touch sets off an electric current, making her arch closer. She runs her fingers through the thick hair on his chest, feeling the cool metal of his gold lion's head medallion pressed against her own breasts. But as he reaches for her waistband, she hesitates.

“Stop,” Molly trembles. Heat flushes her cheeks. "I’m not… I don’t…"

Elvis nuzzles her neck. His hand is dangerously close to unzipping her skirt. He’s in a taking mood tonight.

“Please,” she pleads. “Won’t they know what we’re doing in here?”

Elvis chuckles, a low, deep rumbling sound that vibrates through her very bones. “Baby, they don’t care. They’re probably already placing bets on how long you’ll last.”

Molly's heart plummets into her stomach. Of course they knew. All those knowing glances and hushed whispers, they’d known all along. Her face flushes and it's all she can do to grab her things and run.

But Elvis doesn't give her time to process this newfound knowledge. His insistent lips find her earlobe, nibbling it lightly as he whispers lewd suggestions she can't comprehend but her body understands. Against her better judgment, heat pools between her legs, and she bites back a moan of desire. 

"Just one more," Elvis purrs, his voice thick with want, sending shivers down Molly's spine. "One more’n I'll stop.”

But one more turns into two, and then three, and before she knows it, she’s powerless under him. She feebly attempts to push him away, but his strong arms grasp her tighter. His grip is firm but not quite enough to leave bruises. Not yet at least. But she knows it’s coming. Braces for it. His lips find her neck again.

The heat between her thighs grows unbearable, and she clenches them together, as if that could stop the freight train that is Elvis Presley. As if it could cool the fire raging through her veins. She’s never felt so alive, so free, so needed and… so scared, as she does tonight in his arms. But as he inches lower, kiss by agonizing kiss awakening something primal inside her, Molly panics.

This is really happening.

She’s about to give herself to a man she barely knows, a man nearly twenty years her senior. One who could crush her like a fly if he wanted to. Her heart kicks into overdrive, adrenaline coursing as she manages to shove him off. 

“No!” she cries out, the word catching in her throat. Molly’s outburst gives Elvis pause. Hurt and confusion flash across his face as he pulls back, propping himself up on one elbow. 

“What is it?” his voice is gruff but not unkind.

Molly turns her face away, cheeks flaming. How can she tell him? That despite her adventurous friend and all the talk, she's never actually… that he would be her first. 

Elvis regards her steadily. Impossibly long black lashes curtain the genuine concern in his eyes. Molly's pulse throbs in her ears. 

"Please don't make me say it," she whispers finally. Molly squeezes her eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall. But a single drop escapes, trailing down her cheek. 

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "It's just… I've never…"

Understanding dawns on Elvis' face. He brushes the tear from her face with surprising tenderness. 

"Never been with a man before?" he asks gently. 

Molly shakes her head, a furious blush creeping up her neck. She expects anger, derision, rejection. For him to throw her out and call for the next girl. 

But instead, Elvis tips her chin up to look at him. "Oh honey," he murmurs. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

Molly's breath catches in her throat as Elvis regards her with unexpected tenderness. His hands, which moments before seemed so insistent, now caress her face and arms with featherlight touches. 

"I was afraid you wouldn't want me anymore," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elvis shakes his head, a sad smile on his lips. "Oh darlin', that don't matter one bit to me. I want you, Molly girl. I want to make you feel real good." 

He drags his thumb over her bottom lip and Molly shivers. She knows she should leave, should find Doreen and book it out of there before she does something reckless. But the way Elvis is looking at her, like she's the only woman in the world… it makes her feel powerful. Desired. Dangerous.

She... likes it?

"Just relax and lemme take care of you," Elvis murmurs, his breath hot against her ear. With that, the last of her resolve melts. 

His hands, knowing and sure, explore her curves, leaving trails of fire in their wake. She moans, melting into him, her body betraying her. She's scared, yes, but she's also aching for more. He senses her hesitation, easing her back even further, parting her thighs with a tenderness belied by the impressive size of his hands. His eyes are hungry, admiring the perfect, trembling creature before him. 

"You're so beautiful," he breathes, running a calloused finger along her jawline. His words were like sweet poison, both thrilling and terrifying. "Shh, baby," he coos, "I gotcha."

He kisses her, his lips firm yet gentle, as if he can taste her innocence. Her first kiss, her first everything, all with him. She was born for him.

*

His lips trail down her breasts, leaving a path of fire in their wake. Molly arches into the sensation, the soft scratch of his stubble against her skin. His hand slides down to her stomach, fingertips tracing the sensitive flesh just below her belly button. 

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks hoarsely. She shakes her head, unable to form words. "Say it, Molly girl." He presses a kiss to her hip bone, nipping lightly at it. 

"No," she gasps. "Don't stop."

He smiles against her skin. "Good girl," he purrs before lowering his mouth to where she's aching for him most.

His tongue flicks forward, teasing her entrance and Molly cries out, her fingers curling into the silk sheets. She looks down at him—somewhere down there—through one open eye.

"Is that what... are you supposed to be—"

Before she can finish her sentence, his hands grip her thighs. Fear and desire battle within her, but desire wins out as curious pecks and licks turn into long, languid strokes. Bracing himself, Elvis feasts on her, like she's the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. She finally opens her eyes and there he is in all his glory: lapping at her, coaxing the desire out of her body and onto his waiting tongue. Wave after wave of pleasure courses through her. "Oh God," she whuffs out, her head thrown back in ecstasy. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice wonders what everyone else must be thinking. But then Elvis's tongue buries itself deep within again, soft and wet, and all thoughts vanish into thin air. His hands grip the soft flesh of her hips, guiding her closer to him as he laps at her vulnerable center. She's never felt anything like this before, the pleasure so unbearable it hurts. 

"That's it, baby," he growls into her glistening pussy, "ride it out."

And she does. His tongue flicks and swirls, plunging inside her, mimicking what she imagines is his impressive length. 

By now, the whole house must hear her moans, but she doesn’t care. She’s coming undone whether she wants to or not, and she’s never felt more alive.

“Oh, Elvis,” she moans, her voice high and desperate, “Oh, I—”

Molly van Patton shudders and bucks against him, her first ever orgasm coursing through her body like wildfire. He doesn't stop though, not until she's sobbing and spent, her juices coating his face. He looks up at her through hooded lids, a satisfied smirk on his full lips.

“I ain’t done with you yet.”

*

He moves up her body, his manhood hard and throbbing against her thigh. Her entrance flutters in anticipation, and Elvis smiles at the sight. He positions himself there, large and intimidating. 

“Relax, li’l girl,” he whispers in her ear. “I’ll be real gentle.” Molly looks up at him, eyes wide, pleading. 

“You sure you want this?”

She nods dutifully.

“Say it f’me, now.” 

“I want you inside me.”

That’s all he needs. Before she can take it back, he slides in an inch, and then another. He’s so big, stretching her so wide she’s certain she’ll split in half. Certain he'll pierce her and she'll never be the same again. Tears leak from her eyes, mixing with the mascara from earlier.

“Shh,” he soothes, “I got you.” His accent is thicker than usual, sweet like molasses. Slowly, bit by excruciating bit, Elvis works himself inside her tight heat. Molly bites her lip to stifle a moan, but it escapes anyway.

At that, Elvis groans, and then he’s entering her more and more until he bottoms out. He's still for a moment, ensuring she can truly take in all of his length. “Tell me how it feels,” he grunts, as he slowly picks up speed.

“It hurts,” she pants out. But it’s a delectable sort of hurt. He’s filling her up in ways she never thought possible. Each thrust has her teeth bitting his shoulder tighter.

“I know, baby,” he coos into her ear, “but it gets better, I promise.”

And somehow, it does. The pain eases and is replaced with a delicious ache that has her hips rocking towards his.. Heat pools in her belly as he claims her with every thrust, like she was made for him and only him.

“You’re so tight,” he moans. “Made for me.”

It’s a mantra, a vow, as a he pistons in and out, breaking her in with every stroke. Her climax from before was nothing compared to this. She’s soon whimpering, clawing at his back, an evil sob stuck in her throat. 

"That's it, baby," he pants, "give it all to me."

Elvis pulls out swiftly, leaving Molly empty and aching. In one smooth motion, he flips her over onto her stomach. 

"On your knees," he commands.

Molly whimpers but obeys, presenting herself to him on all fours. Elvis groans at the sight, gripping her hips tightly. 

He enters her from behind in one powerful thrust. Molly cries out, the new angle allowing him to penetrate her even deeper. Elvis sets a ruthless pace, pounding into her relentlessly.

The sound of slapping flesh fills the air as he claims her, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. He hits a spot deep inside that has Molly seeing stars. She pushes her hips back to meet his brutal thrusts, unable to get enough.

"That's right, take it," Elvis growls. His breathing is labored in her ear, hot and ragged. Sweat beads on his brow, dripping onto her shoulder blades, but he doesn’t relent. “You’re taking me so good. You love it, don’t you?”

She does. Oh, God, does she ever. Fuck it. If this was wrong, she didn’t want to be right. 

He keeps pounding into her, and it's dizzying and intoxicating all at once. The room spins as she clings to the headboard for dear life, his name a curse on her lips, a talisman against the building pleasure-pain coiling in her core. His pace quickens, hot breath on her neck, and his thick chest hair tickling her back.

“El… vis…” she mewls. “Right there!”

He obliges, his expert hands massaging her swollen clit as he pounds into her from behind. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he rasps as Molly bucks against him, working the length of his cock with her slick and pushing her hips back to meet his brutal thrusts, unable to get enough. It shocks him how quickly she took to his cock. Elvis’ fingers dig almost painfully into her hips, urging her on. “That’s right, take what you need.” 

"Elvis, I..."

The pressure builds, coiling in her belly like a spring. “That’s my girl, let it go,” he growls in her ear, and that’s all it takes.

Her body explodes into a million stars, tightening around him as she screams her release. Just like that, it hits her all at once—from heaven and hell itself, crashing over her like a tidal wave and even more powerful than the first. Colors dance behind her eyelids. 

Elvis’ nails dig into her back, and she can feel the delicious sting as they break the skin. “Unnngh,” he grunts, “I’m fuckin’ close.” The filthy words spur her on, and she clenches around him, the fluttering of her walls easing up, and suddenly she’s slowly floating back to earth and back to life and back to his gigantic bed in his gigantic mansion in Memphis, Tennessee. She can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but feel.

He growls and buries himself even deeper, his thrusts erratic and desperate now. Harder and harder until he, too, splinters apart, shattering inside her like stained glass. He grunts, his release warm and sticky deep inside her.

Later, Elvis cocoons Molly in his strong arms and starts to rock her gently. As she drifts off to sleep, she knows there's no going back.

She's his now, body and soul. That’s the price she paid for giving in to her darkest desire.

[kalisburnerphone]

Amazing // Choi Seungcheol

Summary: Seungcheol doesn’t understand why she won’t let him take care of her when it’s all he wants to do. He has no idea how she found out about what he’s been doing every month for the past six months but he’s sure he can get her to agree with his logic.

Warnings: Idol!Seungcheol x OC!Solana, kinda one-sided situationship, a tiny bit suggestive,Seungcheol on his glucose guardian agenda, curve/plus-sized, foreigner!oc, Seungcheol calls her Sol, princess. I think that’s about it, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: This is part of an idolverse series that’ll be posted in non-chronological order. I’m not sure how many parts members will have but there might be instances of crossovers.Mingyu, Seungcheol and Minghao are the only ones that I have anything written/plotted for. I’m not promising frequent updates because I’m currently on an intensive training program before starting grad school but I have some free time starting Thursday so I’ll try to work on pieces during that time. I only just got back into posting my work in the kpop community after a break from it but I do enjoy anime as well so you may come across it on my dashboard. Lastly, I am absolute trash when it comes to titles and summaries so please bare with me in advance.

Solana and Seungcheol rarely argued and if they did, it was usually about the same thing; Seungcheol spending his money on her like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to do. And in his mind, it was. Seungcheol understood that she was more than capable of providing for and taking care of herself but he felt as though she shouldn’t have to with him around.

They’d met before he’d even acquired the amount of money he had today so he knew for a fact that it wasn’t why she was with him which is exactly why he spent it on her. Seungcheol in most instances believed that actions spoke louder than words and if he felt like buying his girlfriend’s entire shopping cart on her favorite jewelry site than that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

Usually Sol wouldn’t say anything because no matter how much she told him not to, he’d find a way to justify his actions and just do it once again. This time however, she refused to let him.

“Yah!! Choi Seungcheol!” She exclaimed as she entered her apartment. His head pops out from the kitchen where he’d been peeling tangerines when he hears her.

“What’d I do?” She only ever called him by his government name when she angry or irritated with him.

“Y’know what you did! I thought we agreed that you’d ease up on excessive amounts of spending that you do on me?”

“We did, I haven’t spent excessively on you since the last time you gave me an earful for buying everything in your cart from The Jade Jewelers. What’s this about?” He asks tangerines forgotten as he follows her to the living room area, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at her rummaging through her bag before pulling out a small pile of paper.

“You’re really going to play dumb with me right now? You haven’t been spending excessively? Then explain this.” She spits out pressing the printed sheets to his chest.

Seungcheol takes the papers from her hand, looking them over before ‘shit’ is whispered from his lips. “You weren’t supposed to find out about this.”

“Well, no shit Seungcheol. Explain yourself.” She snaps as she sits on the couch with her arms crossed and looking directly at him.

“How’d you find out?”

“That’s not important. I’ve been living here for six months and you’ve been paying my rent this entire time after I told you I didn’t like you spending excessively on me especially when it came to things that I’m capable of handling on my own.”

“I know you’re capable, I do, but just because you can do all these things for yourself doesn’t mean that you have to. I’m here and I’m willing, wanting to do these things for you but you won’t let me.Why can’t I do nice things for you?”

Because it makes this feel like it’s more than what it is. It’s what she wants to tell him because as much as Seungcheol acted like it wasn’t that big of a deal, it was to her. She’d constantly have to remind herself that they weren’t in a relationship. They hooked up whenever he had free time and him paying for her KTX ticket and accommodation in Seoul was as much as she said she’d allow him but Choi Seungcheol had a way of getting whatever he wanted.

“It’s not that you can’t do nice things for me, it’s just that you have a habit of behaving like a damn glucose guardian when it comes to expenses.”

“Okay, and? If I want to behave like your sugar daddy and pay and do everything for you then you should just let me. Think about it,” he says dropping in the space next to her wasting no time in pulling her onto his lap.

“I cover all your basic expenses and necessities and all you have to do is sit pretty and get that degree. Sounds like a win-win situation to me.”

“No. Now either fix it or I’m transferring the money to your account.”

“I’ll send it right back. Play with me if you want to.” He smirks at her.

“God, you’re so infuriating.” She huffs getting off his lap and moving down the hall to her bedroom.”

“Yahhhh, we weren’t finished yet.” She can hear him pouting as he follows behind her.

“Yes, we are because you’re going to do it again regardless of what I say right now.” She responses slipping off her jacket.

“Sollllllll, are you really that upset about it?” When she doesn’t reply, he wraps his arms around her waist and rests his head on her shoulder. “If I compromise with you, will you stop being upset with me and go back to calling me Cheol?”

“Does that compromise include you not paying all my bills?” She replies sarcastically.

“Watch it, princess. Don’t want that mouth getting you in trouble don’t you? I’ve already let you slide with the sass, don’t push it.” He speaks into her ear before lightly nipping at her neck.

“I’ll let you pay your phone bill and groceries but that’s it. Despite what you say I know you only moved out from the dorms this early because of me and to allow us more privacy. The least I can do is cover your rent and utilities, I can’t help it because that’s just who I am and you know this. Now, forgive me please?” 

Seungcheol asks spinning her around in his arms. She was just about an inch or two shorter than him so he didn’t have to do much to look her in the eyes. “I don’t want you mad at me on my last night before I leave.”

“Forgive me,” there’s a peck to her cheek followed by another until Seungcheol has pressed kisses all over her face and has her a giggling mess.

“Fine, fine,Cheolll.” She laughs trying to escape him but he’s not having it.

“I can’t hear you princess, what was that?” He teases as he grasps her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“I forgive you,” 

“And?” he encourages though he already knows that he’s gotten his way once again.

“I’ll let you take care of me even if it means putting my pride and independent nature aside and letting you pay my rent.” she sighs dramatically.

She’d never admit it but seeing Seungcheol be domestic had a tendency to do things to her. Things he’d never let her hear the end of if he knew. She’d seen a lot of different sides to Choi Seungcheol in the two years since they started all this but domesticated Seungcheol was her second favorite.

“Y’know what’s amazing?” He asks and she’s so busy staring at him that she misses the teasing lithe in his voice.

“Hmmm?” Her hands are draped over his shoulders, fingers playing in the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands around her waist resting on the curve of her ass as he leans in closer to her ear.

“We both know that I have no problem getting your pussy wet but when are you finally going to admit that me being all domesticated and taking care of you gets you all hot and bothered the same way it does to me? Hmmm?”

The way her breath hitches is enough to let him know that he’s right but he doesn’t act on it.

“C’mon, I cut fruit and we have new episodes to finish.” He says kissing her cheek as he leaves her standing in the bedroom like he didn’t just read her for filth. It takes a few seconds for her to recover but once she does she’s following behind him.

“Yah! Choi Seungcheol!”

[cinnamonroll-anon]

Hello! Can you do a request, Platonic or Friendship of Transformers (Prime, RID 2015, Animated, and others) Autobot kids, of your choice, w/ Reader as a Bot (or Animatronic) who's based on Daycare attendant (Sun/Moon/Eclipse) from Fnaf?

(if its okay add a reactions of the Autobots on Platonic relationship or Friendship between Autobots' kids and Daycare attendant! Reader?)

(Thank you and Hope you doing well!)

A/n: I'm having a wonderful day anon and i hope you do as well! Decided to add everyone's reaction so it's a big post! (I literally love sun and moon, the silly jester's)

Warnings: Fluff, Platonic Care, Friendship/ Guardian Care, Angst

Tfp:

Jack

He was more amazed by your design, how gracefully you moved compared to the other bots

You often would invite him to join you into some activities but he'd brush it off saying that he was too old for that kinda stuff (but you did make it look fun)

Then there was your moon form, the switch from you bubbly and exciting personality to a more docile yet protective one was quite baffling to him (also talk about a makeover)

Poor him if you hear about a messed up sleep schedule from being a teenager. Even his mom hasn't been able to get him to bed (he was obviously grumpy about it, but deep down was moved by your care for him.)

When he meets eclipse when he's in danger he feels so shocked but safe. What happened to you?

Has seen and understood the protection protocols you have and just how much you care about their safety.

Miko

Definitely still rebellious. If you think she called people her parents as an insult you definitely fit the parental role in her life.

She was at first very outspoken about not wanting you watching over them. (Babysitting her)

And when she tried to show you heavy metal by playing it, you happily supported her by playing a tiny xylophone. (You were trying your best but being excessively loud wasn't your deal)

You'd try to give her the space she needed but you obviously cared about her.

She did think your moon form was awesome. (Especially when she heard about you protection protocols)

You were unsuccessful to get her to sleep at reasonable hours but she ended up growing fond of you. You actually cared and supported her while her parents wanted her to be perfect. And you liked her the way she was.

Would more often than not join the activities you had planned out for them, learning that you were actually loads of fun behind your safety protocols (and human care files)

When she meets eclipse she thinks you're so cool! Yeah kick the cons ass! Definitely tells you that you're like a weapon which makes you feel bad, you worked so hard making sure that would never happen again. She clarifies that she just thinks that you being able to fight makes you awesome in her eyes.

Raf

Beyond delighted to meet you! Most bots are busy and don't often have time to chat but you're more than happy to talk to your hearts content with him

He allows your personality to shine, letting you both make fun activities and just hanging out with you

Definitely sees you as a Guardian because his family often overlooks him/ pressures him. But you can give him your undivided attention and compassion. He is still a growing boy

Is practically beaming when he sees your Moon form! "How did you do that!?"

Sometimes he overworks himself on what he's doing and you can always persuade him to rest

You can tell him stories and even play from your built in music box. You definitely help him feel safe and rest easy.

Definitely shows you morning cartoons and you sit happily with him and watch him. He also teaches you about videogames.

When he meets eclipse he's honestly worried about you but also sees that you're not some defenseless bot and you're willing to risk spark and limb to keep them all safe

Optimus

He knew a bit about your past and he trusts you with the kids. He has no problem believing that you excel at entertaining and protecting them

He knows about your protective protocols and about eclipse and how that came to be

You were a caregiver on cybertron, watching over new bots and keeping them happy and healthy. You took absolute happiness in caring and playing with them, until the war. He knows how you tragically lost all of those under your care, seeing them all perish without being able to stop anything

He knows how that affected you eventually causing a split in your personality. Eclipse was more or less who you were, sun and moon were what you were left with after all the heartbreak.

He's seen how despite not wanting to be on the battlefield, you can definitely kick ass. Seeing you attack ferociously almost in a rampage when he first met you on cybertron

He treats you with much respect and feels easy around you. With how serious the war has been having you around is like a breath of fresh air

Ratchet

Man is a doctor, not a babysitter and he appreciates you

Hes always on edge and his patience is thin so he could never properly take care of the kids, even if he's grown on them (with some favoritism to raf)

At first he didn't really think you had it in you to be an Autobot or watching over the kids but you've shown him just how much you're capable of your work

You can work with the kids, having so much patience and just care for them. He realizes your strength and grows to truly appreciate the care you put into them

He definitely notices when you sometimes grow anxious around the kids but you prioritize them.

He doesn't know why until he asks optimus. His view on you definitely changes, he wonders if you see pieces of the young bots under your care in the kids

Arcee

Definitely didn't believe in your capabilities in fighting until there came a moment when the kids were in danger. You turned into eclipse, swiftly taking care of the problem before frantically checking over the kids

She was FLABBERGASTED. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN KICK ASS, YOU'RE A BABYSITTER??

She finds it funny when Jack comes and complains about your caring nature to her. She cares about him and also nags him, so she bonds with you over that care

Asks more about eclipse while all you can do is politely decline answering her questions. Its a sore spot for you and eclipse is strange to you

She also asks about your past and relates to you. She also had to deal with grief over the war, and she sympathizes with you. She stops pushing for answers and understands what you do and who you are better

Definitely happy to have you stay in base watching over the kids if an emergency happens. She trusts you and is grateful for you.

She finds your music box relaxing.

Bumblebee

He loves your personality, he's always happy to see you. But he's even happier to participate in your activities.

He also has fun watching over the kids but you do a stellar job!

He thinks it's cute how you take care of the kids, you just radiate lively energy

Then he sees your moon form and he's pleasantly surprised by the shift. Especially if the kids are staying over for the night. The way you carry yourself with serenity and care is so different but wonderful.

You often ask for them to keep quiet if the kids are sleeping.

He's heard about eclipse but hasn't met them yet.

Bulkhead

He's just happy that someone more careful with their feet are taking care of the kids

Hes a big guy with great strength. He tries to be gentle but he can fail, so having you watch over the kids is like taking a sigh if relief.

He may find your switching from sun to moon a bit uncanny but he just doesn't know how to interact with you. (He's nervous and doesn't truly understand how it works)

Sees you try to take care of miko and sometimes apologies for her, even when you told him that this reaction is natural in growing kids

He often overlooks your activities because he doesn't want to accidentally break anything you've set up.

Learns about your past and can't help but feel bad for you. The war has harmed alot of people but how could it rip such a vibrant bot like you.

Happy to have someone that knows what they're doing taking care of the kids.

Tfa:

Sari

She enjoys your company when she's more younger. She's always wanted to hangout with the bots more but sometimes she has to sit out certain missions. Luckily you're there to watch over her.

She definitely is happy that you actually know how to take care of humans and understand them. (You downloaded your information)

She was happy to count on you when her father was missing. You definitely made it easier for her and she appreciates you.

When she turns into a teenager that's where some changes happen. She thinks you might watch over her as babysitting and she can take care of herself!

She also puts a bit of a front with your moon form. She's not a little kid and she can stay up longer. (In her opinion, she tends to knockout early thanks to you)

She adores how your personality changes like the sun and the moon.

They day she saw you turn into eclipse she was shocked. "YOU KEPT A SECRET THIS BIG FROM ME???"

She'd love to see eclipse more often but usually gets told to not push it.

Optimus

Doesn't fully understand humans or taking care of younger ones. He does end up learning by asking Sari and you. He picks up some stuff pretty quickly

He doesn't understand why you were added onto their team from the beginning. They were maintenance bots and you were??? Well, not that.

Your long limbs did prove to be helpful on more than one occasion and you were quite flexible.

He met eclipse when you had saved Sari from getting taken by the Cons. You singlehandedly scared them off and he was frozen in place. You were so quick and fierce getting her back and away from them, yet so gentle at handling her and looking her over for any injuries. He couldn't quite process it for a minute.

He asked you about eclipse and you nervously told him that it was something of mindset that combined both your personalities and it only ever appeared on cybertron. He respected your boundaries and made sure to remember them.

He feels relaxed around your moon form, but your footsteps are so light he forgets that you can still be walking around. (Has to listen closely to pick up on your bells)

Ratchet

At first he was deeply annoyed by you. Especially when you were Sun. He thought he had gotten another energetic and unruly young bot that he'd have to watch over like bumblebee.

Then when you all arrived on earth he saw just how patient you are. You would answer Saris questions, keep her entertained and safe.

He was also caught off guard by your moon form. He's grown more used to your Sun form and gets a bit spooked out at first. He ends up liking how you remind them to rest and just how calm you are. What freaks him out more is when you play your music box.

When he saw eclipse he was more cautious and even a bit frightened at what had just happened. He knew that your personalities weren't a common occurrence, not even on Cybertron, especially when it appeared in a time of high stress.

He became more fascinated in wether eclipse was some way you coped with emergencies or as a fight or flight response. He definitely thought it was a fight response on how you maneuvered yourself against the cons to get Sari back.

He was worried about leaving Sari in your care after that, scared that you could potentially hurt her.

He did some digging through the ship and learned about your past. You were tasked to look after young bots, not necessarily a teacher. He learned that you've been around from before the war and how you were sent to evacuate the young ones to an area away from the fighting only for the Cons to lay siege on the area, thinking it was an Autobot hideout.

He saw that you were basically rehabilitated after being eclipse for so long, but you couldn't go back to your original job because of it.

He saw that you truly cared about Sari and you would protect her and he trusted you again. He just hoped that reverting to eclipse didn't cause any psychological episodes on you. It's hard to read you when you always act like everything is okay.

Prowl

He didn't think much of you like Ratchet. Already having a taste of another energetic personality (bumblebee) he wasn't exactly excited to work with you.

When you had arrived on earth, much like him, you were curious and open about this planet to the point of downloading just about any information you could find.

Then he saw you watching over Sari and learned that you were also observant and clever. You were sometimes able to get Sari to do things that she would refuse to do (like sleeping early)

He sometimes talks to you about his observations, seeing how you light up and are interested in mundane things like nature with him.

Then he sees your moon from and he greatly enjoys your company. You're much more relaxed and quiet, you seem more docile. Some night he enjoys quietly talking to you.

And then theres eclipse. He didn't even know you could fight. Despite his initial shock his gut feeling tells him to trust you. Especially when you held Sari and were practically all over her asking if she was scared and if she was hurt.

He did want to talk more about eclipse, he knew you would get a bit uncomfortable, but he reasoned that getting better control of eclipse could prove more helpful for you. Eventually he'd get eclipse to come out again, making sure to help you grow accustomed to them.

He learned that Eclipse was more silent and more alert, almost on guard. He'd end up talking to you getting told small bits of your past but he was okay with it. He's more happy that you don't pose a threat to yourself and others

Bumblebee

He got along with you! You were so much fun and so active! You weren't reckless like he was but he still enjoyed time with you.

And going to earth didn't change much, except he thinks you became a bit of a buzz kill. It was mostly because he always let Sari tag along and you didn't want her to get hurt.

He knows it comes from a good place at heart but he feels like you nag him a bit.

He wasn't too fond of your moon form. You were quite and usually wanted to talk in a hushed tone (because you had already put Sari to sleep)

He gets to learn more about humans when you and Sari are talking or making a fun activity together. He often joins in on the fun (usually to escape s boring task)

When he met your eclipse form he was bewildered and awkward honestly. "So we're not going to talk about your crazy orange side?"

More blunt about the subject, he wanted answers! But luckily ratchet just told him that when you were ready you'd explain it.

Bulkhead

He definitely gets along really well with you. You tend to keep things safe and fun, and he appreciates it

He has grown used to seeing you watch over Sari but he also gets his time to spend with her

You have both actually bonded over art! He makes paintings while you tend to draw adorable stick figures, that you sometimes deck out with glitter glue. Everytime you show him your work he's always positive about it.

As well as bumblebee he's liked you before landing on earth.

At first your moon form caught him off guard, especially when you'd walk around ay night, but he's used to it now.

When he saw Eclipse he was taken aback and frightened. It looked like you but it wasn't quite you. You were defensive and just worried about Sari.

He kept a close eye on the two of you for a while, trying to ease his own nerves.

He confronts you about it, bringing it up gently and you tell him that it's complicated but you didn't intend on scaring anyone. He doesn't judge you and is just happy to have you back.

RID 2015:

Russle

He was at first trying to be distant from you. To be fair he saw you like a babysitter and he was trying to act more mature.

He at first would be dismissive at first at your attempts to befriend him but he'd eventually give in with some pressure from his dad.

Eventually he'd find the activities you set up to be actually fun, heck, even his dad would take part in them with him and they'd have a great bonding experience

He'd find your sun colors to be bright but not too oversaturated. You reminded him of a carnival.

When he met your moon form one of the Decepticons managed to break free from his pod at night. Russell was taking a walk with his father and they were about to be trampled until you practically flung the Decepticon away.

And that's when he looked up and saw you. You were so different like this, you changed color and personality, at first he called out to you nervously not sure if you were alright. Luckily after dealing with the Decepticon you leaned down and comforted the two (his dad practically froze on instinct)

Then after getting used to your moon form, being more quiet and peaceful he met your eclipse from. This was probably his favorite form of yours because you were still fun but you were more relaxed

He enjoyed introducing you to new things on earth and answering your questions, you were just so wholesome and excited about it.

Overall he enjoys the time he spends with you, well except when they leave him out of missions and leave him in your care (he's just salty he doesn't get included)

Bumblebee

Was concerned when you had also traveled the space bridge with them. Him and strongarm were at least police, sideswipe got dragged along, but you weren't exactly what he'd call cut out for the job.

He struggled to understand where you fit in, sure you had juvenile tendencies but you weren't a handful to deal with like sideswipe. You also tended to follow along but not all to the book like strongarm. You were like your own middle space. When you first arrived on earth you were definitely spending more time looking around and learning about the planet.

He grew fond of your personality, you were optimistic and energetic, which is why it surprised him to see your moon form. Sure you saved Russell from getting stomped but you also took down a whole con. Alone.

He was curious about your moon form, noticing how quieter you were, especially your footsteps, it was harder to hear where you were if it weren't from the bells decorating you.

He overall tried talking to you about it, in which you assured him that this was just how you were, but you didn't think you'd change while on earth. Speaking of changes when you turned into eclipse he thought you broke or something.

It was a high stress situation and you weren't taking it too well but he was walking you through it (to the best of his ability) until he saw you change. In this form you were more grounded and put together and you ended up helping alot like this.

He enjoys watching you interact with Russel and the others, reminds him of when he didn't have the responsibility of a leader. That and too often humored him more than the others. He knows he doesn't have to worry too much about you (especially seeing how capable you were at handling yourself) but sometimes worries when you change between forms. He wonders if it's painful for you.

Strongarm

She was definitely more harsh on you when you first met. As far as she was concerned you were just a civilian that got dragged into this mess, but she didn't dislike you as much as she did with sideswipe.

She thought you were gullible and slowing them down until she realized how crafty you were. She often watched how you partook in "arts and crafts" while watching over Russel but didn't bother to think how clever you were (at least in the situations you were actually in)

She grew more fond of you, especially after you got lost in the forest trying to find her and sideswipe after they had another disagreement. After they both cooled down and returned to base they realized that you've still been gone and it was already nightfall.

Eventually she went out to look for you but was shocked when she found you. You looked different, she almost confused you for a con in the dark. She noticed the change in your body language and voice, you sounded more quiet. You told her to keep your little change a secret and she did.

She honestly prefers your sun to your moon form. You were always cheerful and lively that seeing you so docile and quiet made her nervous. That and when she saw the way you had practically flipped a con like it was nothing.

When she met your eclipse form she approached you with more curiosity, asking if you were feeling well. You explained that you were okay but your heightened stress would often have you revert back to this.

She's understanding of your personalities and has enjoyed having you as her friend, especially when you talk to her about something new from earth.

Sideswipe

Oh boy where to begin. He didn't mind your presence but didn't seem interested to get to know you. He was all about action but he knew you weren't a total buzzkill.

After a while you ended up becoming his voice of reason, like a friend that was watching out over him and Russel if they were getting into more dangerous activities.

He enjoyed hanging out with you a ton, finding himself participating in any activities you were doing with Russel and Denny. He warmed up to you easily with your enthusiasm yet caring personality.

His jaw practically hit the floor when he saw your moon from, the way you threw that Decepticon like they were nothing had him flabbergasted. "Since when can you do that!?"

He was freaked out at first but then was practically beaming at how awesome you were. He found your moon form more calming to be around especially at night. He was more than happy to give your form a chance but he also wanted you to take down more cons (he wanted to see you go berserk again)

Then he saw your eclipse form and he couldn't decide how he was feeling about you, on one hand, this was another one of your surprises but on the other you were more sure of yourself and also helping out more in this form.

He's happy to call you his friend, especially when he convinces you to do something reckless with him. bumblebee always scolds him for being a bad influence, but in his opinion a little fun never hurt anyone.

Grimlock

When he first saw you he thought you were funny looking, in a good way! He loved the way your personality reflected the way you looked. You were like a little sun!

He was definitely 100% on board with anything you wanted to do. You always made up new ways to have fun. He did feel bad about arts and crafts though, he wasn't too careful and he'd more often than that break his creation, but you always comforted him and encouraged him forward.

The night the con had escaped its pod he practically had a heart attack as he saw you charge at the con, before sighing in relief when you successfully knocked them out. He was cheering loudly for you as you were attacking the con, telling you to go all out.

Other than that he liked your moon form, not only were you great at fighting but you became more caring and calm. He was actually the one that discovered your music box and at night would often ask for you to play it. (It helps him relax a lot, especially because it's also with you)

This man was so shocked seeing your eclipse form. He would often joke around with you about how you kept it a secret. You were amazing in your eclipse form, you kept your knowledge and strength in fighting but you were also a great teammate, he'd love to go on missions more with you.

He's honestly a sweetheart with you and gets along well with any form you're in.

Fixit

He was more amazed at your appearance. He wasn't used to seeing many bots but you were so different and stylized.

You were more understanding with his glitching, more often than not laughing to yourself at his mix up. You also were happy to befriend him more than the others. He believed it was because you didn't have much experience seeing a minicon.

Then he saw your moon from and was practically gushing at you. He had never seen another bot do whatever you just did! The personality changes gave it away that you were different from any regular bot.

He ended up trying to do some research, it's not that you were a different bot entirely. His conclusions led him to believe that something in your past caused this spilt in your personality.

He felt more safe around you whenever you stayed behind to look after the base when bumblebee had left for a mission, trusting that your moon side could protect them.

When he saw eclipse he was practically speechless. It made him ask all sorts of questions on why you were like this. You ended up being a bit vulnerable and explaining that you weren't sure why you were made like this and that you were sorry if this all made him upset.

He reassured you that he didn't think any less of you because of it, he actually compared it to his glitching. It wasn't regular but it made you both unique.

He's very warm and friendly towards you, he likes having you around, especially when you include him in whatever you're working on. He always ends up having a blast and he feels lucky to have a friend like you!

back

[call-of-ishmael]

The Last Ishmael OCD Post

One of my first times that i dabbled into character analysis was about Ishmael's OCD, people like that post but i really feel i could have done better

Canto V was my last major chapter i was willing to read. As i put more distance between me and the story, i want one final farewell in the form of finally fixing up my analysis

PART I: THE META-TEXTUAL

Before i delve into the writing itself, here is some pointers the story gives to her OCD in the form of flavor text and descriptions.

Firstly we have her Bio

This is easy to miss as its just a tiny blurb above her whole intro blurb.

Now, "obsessive compulsive neurosis" is a very weird way to phrase it, "obsessive compulsive" is clear enough but "neurosis" is odd, this is not TOO odd though, as "neurotic" used to be how OCD was classified as a disorder.

However if we look at her bio in Korean, the particulars do simply straight up say "OCD" very clearly, you'd need to MTL but this was also confirmed to me by a friend from SK

The sinner bios are biased though, and are written through a very corporate lens, so lets see if there's any other pointers elsewhere

Her base EGO, Snagharpoon, actually does just that

Her passives name is called "Compulsion" and in its gameplay design its a very interesting way to also point to it

Ishmael is a very all or nothing person, you do it well or you don't do it at all, and this is reflected on how this passive aids you to play

This passive is excellent for boosting the consistency of playing by only going for "Favored" or "Dominating" clashes, while punishing you for taking chances on clashes you MIGHT win

Base ID Ishmael is also a unit with all single coins, rolling tails puts her in a very unfavorable position so this also adds an extra safety net on top. Worth noting being all single coins is also a high risk high reward type of play style.

Finally we see two more pointers id like to note, both from Canto V

The Compulsive`s Knot, an ego gift themed after a naval rope, one of many in the dungeon all alluding to her struggles.

Most obviously though

Her exclusive status effect, Compulsion. This is in direct reference to her EGO passive, providing an attack boost at the same time it provides a drawback in the form of low SP.

We are gonna talk a bit more about this passive since it ties into another gameplay oriented way to point towards her OCD

During the story dungeon we have an event where a noise is heard, you are given two choices, check, gain SP, don't check, lose SP.

Compulsive checking is probably the most well known (to the conditions detriment we will talk about it later) hallmark of OCD

Notably, this doesn't aid Ishmael, while checking can avoid the combat encounter, not checking only has a chance of triggering it, and most interestingly, her SP will always start at -25 during combat encounters. Meaning the temporary boost in her sanity will just get reset next battle, should you decide to check. Checking wont satisfy her anxiety for more than a brief moment.

Lastly the most obvious ones are all the references to Obsession. These are so abundant i feel if you are familiar with the Canto its redundant to have them, i wanted to draw more attention to the allusions to compulsion, as they are less common.

PART II: BEFORE THE STORM

Even since before her own Canto, we can see Ishmael's ruminating and anxious tendencies pop up during previous chapters, which for OCD is important to explore as OCD is an anxious and ruminating disorder.

So lets talk a little bit about OCD! Its a disorder characterized by repetitive and constant intrusive urges to perform a task or a thought (lets keep this in mind for later)

These thoughts or actions are used to try to relieve stress from an anxiety inducing thought or situation. The most common example is OCD exacerbating germ phobia, and causing people who have it to wash their hands in excess.

While OCD is usually described as "irrational thoughts" i feel that's a pretty limited way to view it in my own experience with it. OCD compulsions and thoughts can be informed by very real worries, the worry of getting sick, of making the wrong moral choices, of hurting others. Being clean is a normal and a good practice to stave off getting sick, its the frequency and intensity that turns it maladaptive, OCD turns your own lived fears and traumas against you, and those might very well be real things to worry about, which makes dealing with it very hard.

Enough of that off to the writing!

Lets start with Canto II

This is the first example of her constant need for a lack of ambiguity, previous to this we see her complain about the treatment the sinners are receiving from Effie and Saude, skeptical of the whole deal.

Until shes shown the plans, they are so well crafted shes able to anchor to that and calm down.

This by itself is not really much other than being very detail oriented, lets look a bit further into the chapter

Here we see that aspect elaborated upon more, this moment is framed as a very important one between Dante and Ishmael in their dynamic later on, Ishmael is incredibly upset at the plan having fallen apart so quickly, while yes this is not unreasonable to be upset at, her anger is remarked on by Dante and Gregor as very intense and unusual. This in my opinion is a minor but clear indication her need for planning and considering every option is due to a deep anxiety, but don't take it from me, lets look at Canto III

Here we are told pretty explicitly, Ishmael moving quickly and asking lots of questions is something Dante has noted as an anxious habit.

And here we have more elaboration on what exactly that moment at the Casino meant for Ishmael, it was enough anger and disappointment she has stopped expecting Dante to perform well and instead taken it upon herself to see things go according to plan, this is VERY important to her.

And her worries, are repetitive enough to annoy others, and to be remarked upon by Dante.

This is perhaps the more notable chain of events to point out previous to her chapters aside from 4.5, as it helps contextualize all her usual ways of acting in a more complete light, showing a lot of this is driven by a deep anxiety

And this all makes S.E.A all the more interesting as it pays off on this.

Something i quite enjoy about Limbus is how it re-contextualizes things characters have previously done and said. And the events of S.E.A and Canto V bring a lot of interesting stuff to the table

Lets get cracking with this chapter

In general shes extremely confrontational, and tense, more than usual

But its her anxious outbursts i wanna focus on, what she puts

emphasis on.

This chapter is so crucial in this whole analysis. We see some behaviors way more clearly now, firstly we see her emphasize her need to be absolutely 100% prepared for this, no ambiguity no risks she wants certainty.

But we see something even more clearly and that's her ruminating behaviors, shes brought up things like this to a smaller extent before like commenting on a lot of aspects but here we see in full display her inner world become externalized, shes started voicing worries shes never voiced before can Dante turn them back always? What if Dante dies? What if the sinners get eaten can that be turned back?

And these don't all get brought up immediately, she mentions them in different conversations, pointing to the fact shes constantly going over the subject in her head with no pause, and she gets frustrated when she cannot work on these worries when she cant do anything to quell the anxiety.

And the last part, when Dante finds her so fixated in her planning its impossible to even talk to her. She has to perform some action do something to stave off the disaster she can see coming in her head

As someone with OCD inevitably i have to mention the personal component that drew me to analyze this was how real this feels to when you spiral

A lot of the times OCD is explained as the compulsions being something you do cause you feel its a sort of ritual to stave off disaster. Its in this way i see it reflected in this moment.

As we see with Heathcliff acting as her foil, he points out her worrying is really not doing much other than just her talking and talking, and by the state shes in when Dante checks in on her, aimless not even paying attention to anything else we see the main objective of the planning really isn't practical as much as a compulsive coping mechanism.

She has to do something

PART III: INTO THE DARK

Lots to cover and honestly i will make a companion post to this with all the examples, so for this section i wanna cover some highlights instead, as well as a general discussion of the tone.

The way this chapter is structured is very interesting, its really reflective of the mental state of Ishmael. The chapter feels really aimless, they wander around not really ever finding what they need, which drives Ishmael more and more tense and frustrate

Its a good continuation to how we see her by the end of S.E.A fixated on one goal one thing

As previously stated shes inflicted with a constant special and unique to her status effect called "Compulsion" as covered in Part I

Her behavior is also reflective of this

For a good part of the first third of the chapter shes in her room, the whole time whetting her harpoon, nonstop

However you might notice compulsion is not as present as obsession, and compulsion is also important to OCD its in the acronym! And i have seen others point to it too

However id like you to remember, in the post earlier i said thoughts can fit into OCD, compulsions can be mental and sometimes almost exclusively or mostly mental. Its even in the DSM noted that for diagnosis the compulsions to count you for a diagnosis can be mental in nature

Its in this aspect that i feel Ishmael shines a lot

In general OCD in media is lacking in representation and is often a trait given to assholes or villains

The normal conception of OCD in movies or TV is of neat freaks or control freaks, Compulsion is usually heavily emphasized when it isn't the whole picture

Often ignored though is the aspect of Obsession, some people can have Purely Obsessional OCD (Pure O), this isn't a formal diagnosis or term but its colloquially used by people who have it. Its a bit of a misnomer, as compulsions are present but internalized as mental rituals or rumination

Usually its harder to diagnose, its harder to treat as there's no apparent compulsions others can see, and the people having it seem pretty high functioning to the people around them.

This can be noticed though in people avoiding certain subjects, avoidant behaviors can be the clearest external behavior.

I personally read Ishmael as having more mental compulsions, the way she tends to be a more ruminating and anxious character than outwardly compulsive

During S.E.A and Canto V we see outward compulsions more but from the examples from previous Cantos we can see that's not her usual and she operates more on anxious overthinking most of the time.

However another aspect that ties into mental compulsions is in the previously mentioned avoidant behaviors, we see her isolate and try to stave of having to deal with her worries in both S.E.A and the beginning of Canto V when shes in her room, in both cases doing some excessive preparation in a compulsive way.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

As previously stated Canto V deserves its own companion post, and ill work on that later, i feel this encapsulates what i wanted to say well enough.

I wanted to discuss the previous signs of her behaviors that make me certain her OCD is an intended textual read, and in my opinion a well executed one

Canto V was hard to read as it felt very real and very familiar to the worst times i have had due to my OCD.

Shes a character that despite my distaste i have developed for the franchise, it will never stop meaning a lot to me same as her chapter will always be a piece of storytelling that affected me deeply in ways others haven't

To close i want to leave off what i feel encapsulates the feeling pretty well, in my favorite moment with the membrane consuming her as a metaphor for letting fear, anger, obsessions and compulsions cloud your mind until you forget why you were even there

To you, dear reader, Bon Voyage

[colorfulcollectordragon-2f8ee55c]

Pipe cleaner stick figures!!!

Hollow head edition

(If you're wondering why I don't have Victim, it's because I can't find grey pipe cleaners)

I have not yet figured out how to make the solid heads, I'll make another post with them when I do. Currently experimenting with puff balls.

Details below the cut!!!

Full disclaimer, I'm not good at writing tutorials so hopefully the pictures help

You're gonna need 3 pipe cleaners, I'm using 3 different colors for easier visibility

Start by figuring out what size head your stick figure is going to have, and twist the end around in a loop

Twist some of the excess back around the loop for thickness and stability

Fold the excess back over to make the torso, make it a little bigger than the size you actually want

Twist the torso pieces around itself for stability. If you have extra, wrap it back around the head/neck for extra stability. There still should be a tiny hole at the bottom where it was folded over

Insert a second pipe cleaner in the hole at the bottom of the torso, and fold both halves into legs

Like the torso, twist the halves of the legs together for stability. Then you can either curl the extra around the torso for stability or clip it off, up to you

Twist a third pipe cleaner around the upper torso, and repeat the steps used for the legs

And voila, you've got a small pipe cleaner hollow head!

Feel free to use this tutorial to make your own Chosen, Dark, Second, or any OCs!

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝕳𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝕮𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖉:

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: I’m sure he planned it out.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.

𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: Be 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 for/of yourself. Even it’s just a tiny cut. I also don’t ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ these 𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.

TW // Slight SMUT/NSFW? Yandere Themes.

Glittering white stretched across the landscape for miles. The sun casting a warming glow against it as it slowly set across the horizon. Its lasting rays giving warmth to my bundled up body.

Looking down, I watched the snow crunch underneath my boots before continuing on. My breath becoming steady clouds into the settling day while I thought about how long it would take me to get back home.

My estimate would be not for a few hours at least, as I was one to lose track of the time, and wander farther than I should.

Though, It wasn’t unusual for me to venture far out from the property borders of my home. I would always do a “routine check,” but decided that today I was going to push it a little and discover what lies just beyond my usual route, and it proved to be very… peaceful.

The snow was smoothed out perfectly, no slush to be seen from winding roads. The sun was casting its last earthly glow of the day, creating a beautiful ambience of warm and cold colors against the shimmering snow. There even was the smallest of critters running about like the snow fox, hares, and oh! Now even a lynx!

Slowly maneuvering myself down on the ground as not to startle the lynx. I watched as the small feline slowly stalked up to a plump bird on its branch. How its big, fluffy paws didn’t make a sound on top of the surface of the snow. It's praying eyes keeping track of its next dinner, sometimes pausing to make sure the bird didn’t spot them, then the lynx sprang! Catching the bird between its maw. A successful catch for the feline to sedate its stomach until their next hunting session.

Startled by a sudden peculiar sound. The lynx snapped its head up, its ears twitching while looking up at me before running off with its catch.

Confused, I looked back, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. My eyes scanned the treeline for anything suspicious like a leopard or a mountain lion that could be blending into the environment; stalking me, but I didn’t see anything. No movement.

Slowly getting back up on my feet. I carefully kept my eyes on the treeline with uncertainty. Trying to figure out if I should go investigate it or not. Should I be like a stupid person or a the lucky one in those horror survival movies?

Wiping off some excess snow from my coat. There could honestly be a predator in there trying to lure me into its trap, but what if there was a hurt animal and I just left it to die? To bleed to death? Wasn’t that dishonorable or something? To leave something; someone to bleed to death?

I sighed, another warm cloud passing through my ski mask before I carefully moved toward the tree-line. My mind, telling me just to go back home, and forget about the potentially injured animal. It was long gone by now. No use in saving it, but I pushed through the unforgiving thoughts. Every sense, and nerve ready to spring out of there at the slightest movement.

Going forth, I nearly tripped over something in the snow. Noticing how this thing barely moved when I did. My foot buzzing at the unexpected impact. Looking back, I followed the rather big object I have tripped over up to an even bigger object, posted on a trunk of a tree. It looked like it was shaped like a very big human was just resting here, underneath a blanket of snow. Unless this was a very oddly shaped tree? Bush even?

Stepping a little closer. I brought my hand up to wipe off some of the snow off the object. Feeling how smooth it was under my gloves rather than a rough texture of a tree or some prickly bush. Wiping off some more. My heart jumped in my chest when I noticed it was armor, and not some weird tree or bush. This was Astartes armor.

Quickly wiping off more layers of the snow off the armor. The armor color was like a light blue-ish gray with a wolf-like insignia on its pauldrons meaning I just have found a suit of a Space Wolf, but why was it all the way out here in the middle of nowhere? Wouldn’t their brethren take it? Was there even an Astartes inside of the suit?

That was something I really didn’t want to check, but what if his warband didn’t know that he was missing? What if they have been looking for them? I didn’t want to leave his warband hanging, if he had one.

Slowly sliding my hand onto the sides of the helmet. I stood there tense for a moment. Calculating my options, wondering if this was a really good idea or not. What if he was simply sleeping? It really wouldn’t be out of the books for a Space wolf to do so.

Inhaling, I held my breath and quickly took the helmet off. Fully expecting to have a skeleton in the armor or decaying body jumping out, right at my face, but there wasn’t.

Instead, there was a living, breathing Astartes inside that looked to be an older one than the young ones I've seen around. He had this long platinum blonde hair tied back into a man bun to keep his helmet from catching on it, and had the same color of platinum blond for his classic full beard that fit absolutely perfectly on his masculine face.

Damn, the people weren’t lying when they said they looked like Vikings, and very handsome too.

My breath caught double time in my throat as the Astartes' eyes flew open while I took a step back in surprise. His icy blue eyes staring down at my smaller form despite him being sat on the ground. He still towered by another head or two.

His mouth slowly opened to show his absolute canines that looked like they could shred through flesh. His pink tongue swiping across them before he shot forward.

I didn’t have enough time to even attempt a run away. His teeth piercing through my clothing with ease, aiming for my shoulder while my body landed backward onto the snow, little shimmers of snow flying up. A silent scream leaving my mouth. Shocked of how quickly this Astartes came forward.

Was I going to die by this Astartes ripping out my throat? Was I his next feast? Was he going to leave me to bleed? Why the hell was I dumb enough to check out a damn noise?!

It wasn’t until I felt the pain of him completely latched on my shoulder. His teeth piercing through my skin, did I get out of my shock. My hand desperately pawing at the Astartes armor above me to let me go. A whine leaving my throat as everything became dizzy; foggy.

Lycus didn’t let go until she went limp underneath him. His tongue shooting out between his teeth to lap at the bloodied mark he left on her between her clothing while purring. He didn’t think he would find his bonded right in front of him. Her sweet scent waking him from his slumber, but then again. He has found her before, wandering her set perimeters around her nest.

He rumbled, savoring how her blood tasted on his tongue while he lifted his bonded from the ground, picking up his helmet while he was at it, and carrying her back to her nest. Wondering why she was so far from it. Not that he's complaining much. He got a good opportunity out of it. One that neither of them can let go.

He was waiting for the day he could just snag her, and she made the perfect moment to do so. To sink his teeth right into her skin and claim her.

He knows that he should’ve done it properly. Sniff around for her soft spot. Pamper her before doing so, but he’s seen the eyes the other pups that looked at her with. He felt the need to do it quickly before any one of them even had the idea to advance before him.

His head came down to nuzzle the top of her head. His tongue running over his teeth to resist bitting her again while making sure that his mark took effect, and if it didn’t?

He wouldn’t mind nibbling a little bit more into her soft flesh. Marking her up all over the place to ensure it. Preferably with her crying out beneath him, but he can go both ways. It’s not like he was going to leave her side now.

She was his as he was hers, and that’s not something he’s willing to let go.

[drdemonprince]

This is prompted by your most recent substack about fame, because my point is extremely tangential, I'm putting it here.

It's interesting to have seen the internet go through many stages. From the newsgroups/BBS era, to internet forums, to blogs, to social media, and how the respective environments shaped things.

In the early days, it's very much a group thing, some people became Big Name posters, pseudonymous, but still a group thing. The blog era was more personal, but still something made by someone who's just a person, even if not literally pseudonymous. Also, still text based, a lot of it even often. Social media changed that, with it's focus on follower counts on one hand and to snippets of text (twitter) or images (insta), and even though it's social media-ness is debatable, video (insta, youtube). The semi-anonymous nature however, was completely lost by now.

The doing it because you enjoyed it, or whatever, also recedes into the background because this is where monetization really takes off. The deleterious effects of the interaction between monetization and follower counts (notability) need no introduction, but painting with broad strokes, make something appeal as broad as possible deepens the flattening effect a medium like video already has, the visual aspects often being more important than the messages. It also has a much higher barrier to entry. Spinning up your own blog is cheap, text takes only a tiny amount data. Video is not. It's expensive to make (especially if you want slick videos), expensive to serve, so it's predisposed to big, single platforms that can leverage economies of scale.

The natural result is that you have a few people with big audiences, instead of many people with small audiences. If audiences is even the right word for that. If I'm talking about say, some TV show on my blog, and someone responds, it's a fairly equal conversation. More between peers, of sorts, just two people talking about something they share. As opposed to a Youtuber who makes a video about it with 100,000s of viewers. Because there are so many fewer voices, you lose the breadth of conversation too, narrowing to a small range of popular topics, and the distinction between You, and You as Your Brand gets eroded.

It's kinda notable in the autism sphere. Blogs where people talk about their experiences, how they dealt or didn't deal with things, have fallen off. Twitter came and went, and now there's Youtube and insta, where everything gets simplified down to a few slides or a 10 minute video about only the most basic aspects. Which is just... sad. I wouldn't have known that autistic burnout is a Thing many people struggle with if not for a blog post a friend came across and shared one day.

There was a comment from someone, a while ago, about how they used to have ASMR videos on, until they were able to get out into nature, and their desire for those videos completely disappeared. We're all very deprived. Of social contact, foremost. The pandemic poured gasoline on an already smoldering fire I feel. Latching onto someone 'famous' in a surrogate of social contact & context, like that person with their ASMR videos, feels like an understandable (though not good) outcome of that, which brings with it very regrettable excesses.

I think this is all pretty much a correct analysis, thank you! Though I would qualify that we have shifted away from the period of the Youtube mega content creator a social media ecosystem of intimate-seeming connections with smaller influencers, these days. Think of your Twitch streamers with a dedicated base of like 50-200 viewers per stream (and a Discord and a Patreon that supports them), the fitness Instagrams that sell meal plans online, the tarot witches and activist influencers offering one on one sessions, etc. Those communities can be more niche, but they still offer the illusion of a connection -- and if anything, that illusion is more strong because the creator is a "micro" famous person, and can take time to interact closely with fans here and there. We might already be heading out of that period of social media, though, especially with the disintegration of Twitter and the slow death of Meta's apps, too. I don't know what comes next but I hope we are due for a reappraisal of all of this, and the norms surrounding it.

[bia-badoobadee]

s k i n c a r e 1 0 1

this post will go over basic information like skin type and how to determine it as well as more in depth info about types of cleansers, moisturisers and sunscreen, how to choose and apply them. Whether you should incorporate toners, essences, serums, masks, or exfoliants into your skincare routine and what to look for in them. As well as some more general lifestyle tips and what kinds of products you should be using at your current age or consider getting in the future.

To determine skin type

Wash your face and let it air dry .

If it feels tight and itchy you have dry skin . You may also see fine lines or flakes on your skin .

If your skin is oily you’ll have more visible pores and your skin will be shiny . This skin type is usually prone to acne , black heads , and white heads .

If it feels tight in certain places or has large pores in some areas but not others. If you notice aspects of both skin types on different parts of your face. Congratulations you have combination skin .

If none of these apply to you and your face doesn’t feel oily or dry then you've got normal skin .

Some people view sensitive as a skin type , I personally don't. Sensitivity can be developed or be sensitive in combination with another skin type .

As you age your skin tends to become thinner and dryer.

cleanse

The types of cleansers

Micellar water - tiny oil molecules suspended in soft water which attract oil and dirt . Especially recommended for those with sensitive skin .

Foam - start out as gel or cream and lather to foam and removes all excess oil from the skin . Which is good for combination skin

Gel - similar to foam cleanser. Good for acne prone or oily skin

Lotion - because of their consistency they’re less stripping thus suitable for sensitive dry skin

Balm - if you wear a lot of makeup, especially if your makeup is waterproof this is for your . Rub the balm over your face . They also have hydrating benefits which makes them perfect for dry skin .

Oil Based - contrary to popular belief oily skin types can use oil cleansers without fear of side effects. They remove dirt without disturbing your skin barrier or drying out your skin .

Clay - draw out all excess oils and toxins from your skin . Not suitable for dry skin as it may be overly stripping but are perfect for sensitive oily or combination .

Wipes - requires no real explanation . You just wipe your skin with the little disposable cloth .

How to use them

wash your hands so you don’t transfer more germs onto your face , that would defeat the purpose of cleansing

Wet your face

Now rub the cleanser of choice between your hands . You only need a pea to a blueberry amount . Some will foam , others will cream , and then there are those that won’t really do anything.

Rub the cleanser gently in circular motions all over your face . Emphasis on the gentle part . Use your pointer and middle finger and imagine you’re washing someone else’s face .

You should do this for no more than a minute , any longer could be stripping to your skin

If your skin is super dry you can use a cleanser once a day so you don’t over strip your skin . cleanse with product at night to get rid of all the impurities picked up during the day and in the morning all you did was sleep in a clean room in a clean bed . That doesn’t mean don’t wash your face in the morning . You should still be using water to wash your face . Not just rinsing , actually wash your face .

If you don’t have this issue you can try double cleansing . This is when you cleanse first with an oil based cleanser then with a water based cleanser . We double cleanse because not all impurities are water soluble . Double cleansing helps to thoroughly cleanse your skin . This method works well if you wear a lot of thick , heavy makeup . Bear in mind that it would be too stripping to double cleanse every day , twice a day. if you really want to double cleanse every night and you’re hydrating your skin well afterwards there should be no problem .

Protect

After cleansing you need to protect your skin . During the day you protect it with sunscreen and during the night you use a moisturiser . I have really dry skin so I use a moisturiser in the morning as well .

A rule of thumb don’t mix your sunscreen and moisturiser ( or any of your skincare products ) layer them .

Sunscreen

There are two number values on the bottle PA and SPF.

SPF stands for sun protection factor, refers to how long protection lasts and protects you from uv rays that cause sunburn. Generally SPF 15 blocks 93% of UV rays and SPF 30 blocks about 97%. Spf that is too high isn’t good for your skin but ideally you want to use spf50 when going outdoors.

PA protects you from uv rays that accelerates aging. Here you want to focus on the number of plus signs on the bottle as they indicate the effectiveness of the product.

Even with sunscreen it’s still advised you stay out of direct sunlight for long periods of time. So wear a hat if you can’t avoid it .

Types of Sunscreen

Chemical - are absorbed into your skin and turn uv rays into energy before they can hurt your skin . Sensitive skin may want to stay away from this type as it could cause a bad reaction . Don’t rule chemical sunscreen out completely though. It may have been one bad brand or ingredient . Note this sunscreen needs to be applied first as it has to penetrate your skin .

Physical - sits on top of your skin and act like a shield from uv rays which means it needs to be applied last . Because they sit on your skin they’re thicker and tend to leave a cast so people with darker skin may prefer chemical sunscreen .

Powder and spray - is more of a reapplication than a primary sunscreen . The idea is you use your physical or chemical sunscreen and every two hours you reapply a powder or spray sunscreen .

How to use sunscreen

Cleanse

Dot a teaspoon amount of sunscreen all over your face (and body)

Gently massage it into your skin . I’ll say that again : Gently , gently massage

Reapply every two hours

If you wear makeup it’s best to apply physical sunscreen over makeup as you’ll have to do so anyway when you reapply .

Moisturiser

Types of moisturisers

Humectants - attract water and slow down evaporation usually comes in gel formulas . They absorb into the skin quickly making them best for oily skin types .

Emollients - fills the gaps between skin with hydrating oils and lipids . These have a light cream or lotion consistency . This type best for dry or combination skin .

Occlusives - seals in moisture and stops it from evaporating . They come in thick creams and balms . Perfect for dehydrated , dry , mature skin .

How to apply moisturiser

Cleanse face and apply chemical sunscreen if using

Then apply moisturiser , a pea to blueberry sized amount

Dab it all over your face

Soothe each up and across your face in circular motions

Again be very gentle using your middle and forefingers

These are the foundations of skincare. Consider the next sections only after you have these first three covered.

Treat

Between cleansing and protecting comes a treatment step. this can be with a toner , essence , serum , exfoliation, and masks . All of the above if your skin can handle it. Layer them from lightest to thickest consistency and exfoliate after cleansing.

Masks, toners, essences, and serums are infused with nutrients, antioxidants, and vitamins chosen to treat specific skin concern . I have a section on ingredients to treat skin concerns at the end. When comparing products look at the similarities and differences between their ingredient lists. The order or products is usually from highest to lowest concentration.

Remember an ingredient or product that someone else swears by may not work well for your skin . this step requires trail and error, time and money . Consistent cleansing, moisturiser and sunscreen should fade most concerns so don’t fret over a treatment if you can’t afford to.

If any product you have doesn’t work for you , don’t waste the product and throw it away . You could give it to a friend with a similar skin concern to see if it works better for them .

Toner

Watery consistency , the lightweight helping it absorb into the skin quickly . Applied with cotton pad after double cleansing to hydrate and restore the PH of skin .

If the toner is exfoliating put a couple drops on a cotton pad, don’t drown it, and pass the pad once across your face.

If the toner is hydrating put a couple dots on your palm and gently pat the toner into your skin. If you need more than one layer feel free to repeat this process no more than 7 times

Essence

As hydrating and fast absorbing but thicker than toners. However they're less concentrated than serums.

Application is the same as a hydrating toner but 7 layers would be excessive, 2 to 3 should be enough.

Serum

Usually comes in a dropper . Even if you’ve double cleansed it’s imperative that the dropper doesn’t touch your face to ensure bacteria won’t contaminate the dropper and by extension the serum . Once you’ve applied the serum gently massage the liquid into your skin .

Masks

Types of masks

Using a mask once or twice a week is beneficial but remember it’s not necessary . As long as you cleanse and protect you'll be fine

sheet

Works for all skin types . There are two variations of sheet masks . The first type is a cotton mask drenched in serum or essence . The second is a jelly-like sheet infused with ingredients . Sheet masks are extremely hydrating but the ingredients infused will determine the benefits .

Clay

If you have oily skin this one is for you . It’s a combination of water , clay , and minerals that determine the properties and absorb all excess oils from your skin . For this reason it’s best to stay away from this mask if your skin is already dry .

Charcoal

These masks are best used as spot treatments for breakouts as they help soothe inflammation . Charcoal helps remove excess oils as well .

Cream

This category is for wash off masks that don’t fit into the above categories . As previously stated the ingredients determine the benefits of a mask .

Overnight

As the name suggests you put it on before bed and it works while you’re asleep . What makes an overnight mask different from a night cream are the active ingredients .

Peel off

People with sensitive skin proceed with caution . This mask will literally peel the dead skin from your face . So sensitive skin types be careful . These have no active ingredients because they’re used for exfoliating than treating .

Exfoliate

This is when you remove dead skin cells. However it is not recommended if you have any kind of skin condition like acne, eczema, etc . The most important thing is that you cleanse and protect but exfoliation can remove dry dull skin and improve circulation

Types of exfoliation

Physical : sugar scrubs , clay masks , gommage peeling , dry brushing , sponges , and cloths rubbed onto the skin in circular motions

Chemicals: like AHAs ( alpha hydroxy acids ) that’ll break the bonds holding the dead skin onto your face or BHAs ( beta hydroxy acids ) . PHAs have larger particles and work best on thinner skin. LHA is a milder BHA perfect for acne prone skin .

Oily and dry skin types would benefit from physical exfoliation but if your skin is sensitive avoid rubbing into it harshly . To avoid irritation stick to a mild chemical exfoliant . AHAs followed by cleanser and moisturiser would be perfect for dry skin . if your skin is normal or combination you'll have to experiment with both chemical and physical exfoliants. A general rule is that chemical exfoliation is gentler and therefore better . You should never be too rough with your skin .

Common skin concerns and ingredients

acne

Benzoyl peroxide, 5% for face and 10% for body

Salicylic acid

Clindamycin (with BP)

Azeliac acid

Retinol/retinoids

pigmentation

SUNSCREEN

hydroquinone

Azelaic acid

Vitamin C

Kojic acid

Retinoid creams

Caffeine creams

Steroid creams

Superficial chemical peels

Laser resurfacing

scarring

High strength retinoid creams

Deep chemical peels

Laser resurfacing

Microneedling

If thick scars, steroid injections

Subcision/ filler for depressed scars

redness

Aloe vera

Niacinamide

Chamomile

Resveratrol

Licorice

Sodium sulfacetamide

Sulfur products

Azeliac acid

Bromelain

flaky dry skin

ceramides

Mineral oil

Petrolatum

Hyaluronic acid

Vitamin E

Selenium sulfide

Zinc pyrithione

Ketoconazole

Ciclopirox

Steroid creams/solutions

ideal skincare routine at based on age

- 15

mild cleanser

spf50 sunscreen

Moisturiser

15 - 18

At this stage there’s no need to worry about premature ageing

but you might consider incorporating an acne treatment

Or a hydrating sheet mask twice a week

19 - 24

You may notice dark circles or eye bags that require an eye cream

And consider an exfoliant or vitamin c to brighten dull skin or prevent fine lines

25 - 30

You want to focus on hydrating your skin to keep it soft and supple

And incorporating anti aging into your skincare through antioxidants and damage preventing treatments

31 +

You may notice your skin begin to notice sagging, wrinkles, and hyperpigmentation

Thus choose lifting and firming products, anti wrinkle treatments, and ingredients that fade dark spots

Sun protection and hydration are absolutely crucial at this stage

lifestyle habits to incorporate

Correct any vitamin deficiencies and hormonal imbalances

Make sure you do not overeat especially on processed carbs and sugars or under eat to the point of lacking essential nutrients

Be sure to drink enough water throughout the day, the golden rule is 8 glasses a day

You may need to adjust your skincare routine depending on the season eg. Cold dry winter air may leave your skin needing more hydrating products while sweating more in the summer may lead to acne

Keep a regular sleep schedule of 7-9 hours a night on a silk pillowcase as the reduced friction can help prevent fine lines and change your pillowcases once a week to prevent bacteria build up

[parkinglotdelulu]

How Stray Kids show they love you…

All members 

Genere: 🧸🧸

Word count: 1182 🤎

Chan: This man is such a dad boyfriend! He will always tell you he is proud of you or loves you! I just know he would give you a million little compliments throughout the day. Just little things like you smell nice, I like your t-shirt, or just how much you mean to him. But the thing is they wouldn’t be empty compliments either, every single time you would tell that he meant everything he says to you. And god forbid if you ever complimented him back, oh my god it would become the biggest competition! Just a back-and-forth battle of compliments and he wouldn’t back down either, you would give up and he would win every. single. Time.  Chan would just always feel the need to take care of you, if you're cold he would give you his hoodie. Shoes are untied he would tie them for you, Chan would also just walk on the outside of the sidewalk. Chan just always wants you to feel safe and comfortable.

Lee Know: I just feel like he would show you he loves you with food. We all know that he struggles with telling you he loves you but shows you he just has his own way of doing it.  He would love to take you out for meals to ensure you are eating all three. He would always choose all of your favorite places, even if he really doesn’t want to eat there. When you aren't looking he would take things from his plate and add them to yours. He would just get so happy seeing your smile while you eat and you better not even offer to pay because he will death glare you. He would also just love to cook with you while at home making each other's lunches the night before. Lee Know would also always slip snacks into your bags so when you are out and about and get hungry you’ll always have something to eat.  Whenever you both split something he will always give you the bigger piece. 

Changbin: just loves to show you off. Like excessively! He will bring you up in every single conversation he has with a person. Sees something you would like? Boom would instantly be like “They would love this!” Goes to a new place? “I should really bring them here!” Would literally just randomly start showing pictures he’s taken of you to the other members. It is just nonstop! He will post you on social media! If anyone even looks at him would immediately scream “I’m taken!” And just hold up his phone and surprise surprise you are his background. It would get to the point where the other member physically has to shove their hand over his mouth to get him to stop. But he doesn’t care he loves you and wants to shout it to the world…

Hyunjin: Would be doodling for you all the time!!!! Like obviously he would make these extravagant paintings and drawings for you. But I also feel like this man would absolutely make you tiny doodles. Whether it’s on a napkin or a gum wrapper. He would steal your books and make a doodle on the front cover when you open it. Or in the corner of the journal when you flick through the pages it will move. Sticky notes all over the place I swear. He would also just love to draw on you! Literally would just come up and grab your arms and doodle on it. Some of them would be really sweet and cute real lovey-dovey. But others I feel like would be hilarious like just corny comic doodles. 

Han: He is such a music lover, not that the other boys aren’t. But music to him is something he needs and it helps with his anxiety. You just never see him without his headphones. I just feel like he would know so much underground, obscure music! Just would have a song for anything. So I feel like Han would just always send you random songs throughout the day. Whether it’s a song that reminds him about you, your relationship, or just a corny love song. You bet he’s gonna send it to you. Feeling sad, he will either send you the best song you have heard that will make you bawl, or just a happy fun loving song to cheer you up. He would have a playlist for everything! Every emotion! Every moment! Driving in the car in the rain, coming of age, sleeping, gym, happy music, sad music. But he would make playlists specifically designed for you. Just playlists like how it felt to fall in love with you, or every single song he’s heard when you were out together(cause for some weird reason he’d remember that.) But his all-time favorite thing to do with you is keep his wired headphones in his pocket so that you two can always be so close while listening to his playlists.

Felix: Obviously Felix is a very touchy person and of course, he would love to hug and cuddle. But I feel like he would just love simple touches! Playing with your hair when he’s standing by you. Linking pinkies when your hands get sweaty. Rub your head or arm when he walks past you. Even if it’s just a small little one-second touch he will not miss his chance. 

Seungmin: He would absolutely insult the hell out of you. Playful teasing is just his type of love language! He’s not good at telling you he loves you. When the other members see your bickering, they say things like “You shouldn’t talk to them like that.” Little do they know he secretly has his sweet side. Seungmin is a big reader so I feel like he would annotate your books. Just cute little notes in the margins, highlighting things that remind you of him. He would gift you beautiful hardcover books and just write on the inside cover just how much he loves you. And so help me god if another member picked up a book he annotated for you things would not be pretty…For Seungmin showing he loves through writing is just easier. 

I.N: he would just be the best at gift-giving! Like when he would be on tour he would get you postcards, keychains, and a cheesy t-shirt like the I Heart NYC. He would just get so happy buying you stuff, like seeing your reaction to all the little things he gets you. And this man would not be able to keep it a secret! He would literally call you all excited and be like “Guess what I just got you?” He would also just love gifting you old clothes of his. Like he would just show up one day with a garbage bag of old clothes to give you, just full of hoodies and t-shirts. I just know he would also love to twin with you, just matching t-shirts, hoodies, and jewelry. If he buys you anything like that you bet he’s getting two. 

[leothil]

Tumblr Fandom: A Year in Review 2023

@mistmarauder thank you so much for creating this and tagging me! 💛💛

Top Five Blorbos: 1. Eddie Diaz - 9-1-1 2. Leon Draisaitl - Hockey rpf 3. Embry Carter - Rebel Kings MC 4. Matthew Tkachuk - Hockey rpf 5. Eddie Fulton - Summer Sons

Top Five Fandoms: 1. 9-1-1 2. Hockey rpf 3. Rebel Kings MC 4. Percy Jackson 5. Summer Sons

Top Five OTPs: 1. Buddie - 9-1-1 2. Mattdrai - Hockey rpf 3. Embry and Mateo - Rebel Kings MC 4. Andrew and Eddie - Summer Sons 5. Quinn Hughes and Brady Tkachuk - Hockey rpf (listen. I can feel the brainrot brewing for these two. It's gonna get worse.)

Shoutout to Some New Friends: I feel like this year is the first time I really properly interacted with @shitouttabuck, @messyhairdiaz, @eddiebabygirldiaz and @toboldlynerd and it's been a truly wonderful time! Shoutout to @nunc-spes-spei and @zahlibeth who are always willing to yes-and spec/ideas and indulge weird theories, you're the best!

Shoutout to Some Old Friends: @rewritetheending, talking to you more this year has brought me indescribable amounts of joy, comfort, relief, every positive feeling out there! I can't emphasize enough how important you are to me! @onward--upward you are a true champ for putting up with my weird hrpf rants and excessive post sharing, I love sharing the brainrot with you! My Buck and Eddie girls @burnthatbridge, @girldadbuddie, and @thatsveryood, I treasure you SO much and hope we can share an unhinged video chat again soon (NZ meetup??)! And my absolute ride or dies, my teeny tiny friends, @buckactuallys, @capseycartwright, @clusterbuck, @hattalove, @oatflatwhite, and @thatbuddie, you're the best thing I have gained from this webbed site, I can't believe I get to talk to you every day! All hail the superior search engine etc, I love you so much!

Favorite Creation You Posted This Year: I've loved doing my fic recs from the archive-project and I've been so happy to see other people discover new old fics through it! (It's not finished, I just wanted a break over the holidays!)

Favorite Creation Posted by Someone Else This Year: I've got to shout out @butchdiaz's Eddie Diaz is the archer because I sat eating breakfast at our summer cottage one morning back in July, watching this video on repeat and struggling to keep my feelings somewhat contained because I couldn't spoil my sister by showing it to her.

People Who Brightened Your Year: Everyone I've already mentioned, naturally, but also @tripleaxeldiaz, @henswilsons, @kitkatpancakestack, @eddiediaaz, @try-set-me-on-fire, @transboybuckley, @trippedandfell for being those extra bright spots on my dash and sometimes in my DMs!

Anyone Else You’d Like to Mention: Big shoutout to all of my mutuals and followers, you are all fantastic and I'm really happy to be here hanging out with you! Extra thanks to @evcndiaz @nymika-arts @glorious-spoon @ellelans @spruceoutoffive @captain-hen @fcntasmas @andrewblur @spaceprincessem @mellaithwen and @mistmarauder for being absolutely wonderful presences on my dash, mwah!

Five of Your Favorite Authors This Year: In the interest of not trying to double-tag people (and get to shout out even more peeps):

@bropunzeling I've reread all of your mattdrai fics more than is probably healthy, and you are this 🤏 close to making me acquire new blorbos by reading the rest of your bibliography.

@msmargaretmurry I'll have you know I reread Head Above Water three times this year and it made me more unhinged every time. That's not counting the times I went back to it just to reread a favourite scene or two.

@hopetorun your mattdrai winner's room fic rearranged something in my brain and I'll never be the same again.

@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels I don't know how you do what you do but I'm in awe, every single time!

@littlespoonevan I've gone back to reread several of your fics this year, and there's something so uniquely sweet and comforting about them!

Five of Your Favorite Artists/Gifmakers/Podficcers/Etc. This Year: 1. @bilosan your gifs are so gorgeous and I always love seeing what kind of sets you put together! 2. @like-the-rest-of-la if I could eat your art, I would!! It's so stupidly beautiful! 3. @skyhighrollins911 your edits are beyond gorgeous, and the cast sharing them as well is so deserved! 4. @barbiediaz your gifsets bring me endless joy and make me stop to look even when it's a fandom I'm not personally in! 5. @baneme-art I am so in love with the way you draw Buck and Eddie, I could look at them for hours!

Three Things You’re Looking Forward to in 2024: 1. S7 of 9-1-1. Of course. 2. Continuing to learn more and get better at west coast swing! (Please let me get into the spring course I will be crushed if I can't have it regularly for half a year 😢) 3. Book seven of Rebel Kings MC (Garrett Leigh you KNOW what you did!)

Tagging: Anyone and everyone tagged in this post already!

[ravenofazarath2]

I have some honestly, absolutely unhinged Thoughts™️ on Niko’s whole situation that I just have to share. This is gonna be full of assumptions, mental gymnastics, and logical fallacies, and by the end, you'll probably think I look like this

This post ended up way longer than I planned, and I'm not even sure if it makes ay sense, but just hang with me.

Why is Niko in Port Townsend?

I don’t know about anyone else (and this could be because I’ve never been to the PNW), but I feel like it’s kind of random that Niko’s mom would send her daughter to a boarding school in a small town two plane rides and a ferry ride away. Wouldn’t you want your daughter in a more populated, easier to get to place? I know there’s bigger towns and cities. Based on Niko’s love for fashion, the family seems to be fairly well off, so it doesn’t seem like a money issue.

There’s only two explanations I can think of:

Niko’s mother cares so little about her, she wanted her as far away as possible.

There’s a reason Niko’s mom chose Port Townsend.

Now, I get it. That first one is super depressing. We don’t want to think about it at all. Who could hate sweet, little Niko? Thankfully, I feel like this one can easily be disproven.

Source

If Niko’s mom wanted her as far away as possible, why has she sent Niko so many letters? She clearly wants to have a relationship, to communicate. It just doesn’t line up with wanting your daughter out of sight, out of mind.

So that leaves the second: There’s a reason Niko’s mom chose Port Townsend.

Of course, this reason could be offscreen, unknown, unimportant.

Unless...

Oh, look, a tangent!

Most of the fandom thinks the Principal has something to do with Niko, whether she’s her mother or Niko herself. Personally, I’m in the she’s her mother camp. This post has a very great explanation on it. Plus, I just don’t see this show going timey-wimey.

This would make Niko half-supernatural. (and before anyone asks: No, I do not have an explanation why Niko couldn't see the boys before her near-death experience since she's already supernatural)

Instead of exploring what this means for the story (for now), I want to explore the assumptions inferences we can make about Niko's father.

*Pulls out a few papers and push pins*

Did Niko's father know?

The Principal seems to be the head of the Lost & Found Department, a department that's currently stretched entirely too thin by the excess of death caused by overpopulation. That lady's overworked. And considering her job, it's very likely near impossible to also keep up a charade of being a normal human to the person you're married to. So he'd have to know.

Let's make a teensy tiny assumption that Niko's father is also a supernatural being.

Besides, how would a human and the eternal being in charge of collecting dead children have ever met?

*starts drawing connections with red string*

This may seem like an exquisite floor routine that would win an Olympic gold in mental gymnastics, but I can absolutely explain this.

Let's look at what Niko viewed as the most important advice her father ever gave her:

Source

On the surface, it's just innocent advice. After all, dandelions are symbol of resilience. And the dandelion sprites were just an accident. There's no way anyone could have known Niko would have been infected with them.

But if her father was a supernatural being, he likely would have known about dandelion sprites. He intentionally wanted to put Niko in danger if she needed a little bravery. How could a father, who we can only assume was a great one when looking at how much grief Niko feels over his new absence in her life, do this to his daughter?

Could the dandelion sprites be a part of it?

Source

If Niko's father knew that Niko would likely be jumped by dandelion sprites if she went traipsing around looking for courage, it isn't too far of a leap to see that the sprites might actually be in some way related to that courage.

We can actually get a bit of a glimpse of this connection when we look at Niko's death.

Source

I'll come back to the symbolism in just a bit.

After the shock not only the characters, but us viewers felt as well, Crystal, Edwin, and Charles discover that the sprites have left. Each one of us likely thought they just dipped out when we first saw this.

Of course, the last scene of the series shows us that's not true.

Source

One possible reason they go with her is because she was nice to them. “The good you do comes back around” and all. But the sprites are such assholes, it’s hard to believe they’d care about that (though I absolutely do).

Then perhaps it has to do with the way Niko died. She stepped in front of Esther’s magic to save Crystal. She sacrificed herself, gave up her life in exchange for her friend’s. Is there a more courageous way to die?

But how does the girl who’s so scared of death, she goes looking for courage in the first place into the girl who looks death in the face and says, “Take me instead.”? And what does that have to do with the sprites being there at the end?

Niko’s in need of some courage, so she goes looking for dandelions, like her father’s always told her to do, and she picks up the dandelion sprites. Because of course Niko was able to sweet talk her way through destiny or to Destiny? to end up with the exact people who can save her at the exact right time.

Niko, being Niko, decides to keep the sprites to teach them to be nice. Because they are mean. Their comments bite, they tear. They dig into her core. Tell her that she’s not a good friend, she deserves to be alone and abandoned, all because she’s scared. All because she’s not courageous.

But Niko knew better, deep down. So she did the most courageous thing she could think of. She died for someone she loved. She became courageous in order to prove the sprites wrong.

Because the sprites played a role in Niko’s arc to courage, (was that their purpose?) they’re now tied to her. Whether that’s willing or not is yet to be seen.

Back to Niko’s dad. If this is indeed the purpose of the dandelion sprites, then it’s likely her dad knew this and knew it would help Niko when she needed it most. We’re ignoring the fact that, if so, he set her up to be bullied for now

But what does this have to do with absolutely anything I’ve said?

*sprays paint on the wall*

Because it’s a clue to who Niko’s dad is, and I think we’ve met him.

Who do we know who’s an immortal being who has had different faces, says cryptic shit that leads to character arcs, shares so much kindness it comes around for his daughter’s friends, and would most definitely wear funny socks?

Source

Before you chain me up, let me finish.

It’s implied that there’s a lot of mystery surrounding Niko’s father’s death and afterlife. Her father being Kashi could explain this.

But why is Niko in Port Townsend?

Yes, I have finally come full circle. Niko is in Port Townsend because her father is Kashi. Obviously the Principal would know this. And maybe she knew he was just hanging out in Angie’s belly.

Perhaps the reason the Principal sent Niko to a remote small town that was difficult to get to is because she wanted her to be close to her father.

*takes a drag of a lit cigarette*

[elvisabutler]

spark ( chapter one: company )

fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( fameless big daddy electrician ) x female original character word count: 13957 told y'all it was just shy of 14k warnings: old southern church ladies being all up in people's business. not the best of marriages. talk of children. copious amounts of sweat. elvis preferring to wear a jumpsuit that's worn in versus getting a new one. infidelity in some form. elvis in glasses. religion playing an at least faintly important part. a bit of negative self talk. this is not safe for work. i am not giving away anything else in these warnings. author’s note: first off the largest and most sincere of thanks to the ever delightful and loving marina who once upon a time just had whispers of a sort of off shoot/same vibe sort of thing for crawfever ( yes this is why this fic has gotten crawfever adjacent as a tag despite it not being the same thing ). and let me take them, burrow into her brain and find the bits and bobs that her brain had dreamed up but not been able to put into words. this fic would not exist without those whispers and without your edits. second, special thanks to my phenomenal wives and besties christi and birdy as well for you two know just how much you supported me in this from when marina did the whispers and i spewed what i affectionately called marina's brain herpes at you two, your screams and thoughts have been so powerful to get me to work on this. third, special other thanks to the charming @prompted-wordsmith for the edit job and the saving my ass on that one spot both me and marina could not figure out words for and putting up with my frankly excessive em dash use. beyond that, thank all of y'all who've enjoyed my vibes posts and have been getting excited based on what i've said to y'all, what marina has said to y'all, etc. just i'm very excited to show y'all this and i hope you enjoy. and quick tiny note, this is set in the 50s, so elvis is a wwii veteran and thus his birth and everything is pushed a little bit back to make this work.

“Call that handyman—the one from the church, I have to get to work,” her husband Nathan calls out as he leaves without a kiss exchanged between the two of them.

Words left unsaid die a quick death on her lips and tongue as she lets out a sigh. Once again she was left alone with barely a goodbye. She supposes she should be thankful he at least waited until she was awake. That he waited till she at least was conscious and able to ask him what she needed to, even if his response left so much to be desired. Call the handyman—Mr. Presley was his name, not that Nathan cared to know. After all, that would require him taking an interest in the church life or her sister’s life. It would require him to see the look on her face when she holds little Elizabeth while grabbing her from Sunday school or dropping her off at Sunday school for Melly. It would require… so many things.

Mr. Presley always told anyone to call Crown Electric and ask for him if they were in need. Some people argue it was some form of shrewd marketing but the pastor likes to reassure the congregation that Elvis, the godly and kind soul that he is, wouldn’t do that willy-nilly. Lilly’s hand shakes as she calls and reaches what she assumes is the receptionist before being reassured that he'll be over in a jiff. 

A jiff turns out to be a surprisingly quick time, no more than a half an hour before she hears a knock that somehow sounds delicate and gentle but is forceful enough for her to hear it easily. Adjusting her dress, she smoothes out an imaginary set of wrinkles, nervous for reasons she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Perhaps it was because she feels so very silly calling up a handyman for this fix. Truly if she could she’s certain she could fix it herself and she knows Nathan had fixed this very problem before. And yet here she was, about to answer her door. Oh, she hopes he doesn't judge her too harshly—hopes he doesn't think less of Nathan or her. 

As she opens the door she is greeted by the sight of Mr. Presley in a simple olive jumpsuit that appeared to be a bit tight in the middle, his paunch pushing at the fabric the same as it appeared to do in the area of his thigh. It's strange for her to see him like this, far more rugged than he ever is in church or at the potlucks. Lilly swears her heart skips a beat in what she thinks is shock cause she looks up at Mr. Presley’s face and sees what is one of the most genteel and warm smiles she's ever seen on a person. 

"Mrs. Harris," Elvis greets Lilly with that smile that has Lilly's own lips curling into one even as she bites at her lip and tilts her head down.

"Mr. Presley. You came quickly," A statement of fact while hiding a question of why and how as she moves aside to allow him to enter her home. 

“It's not everyday lil Miss Lizzie’s aunt calls for help from me. In fact, I think this is ya first time," Elvis answers while keeping his gaze on her as he enters, carefully avoiding looking around the house. "Musta been an emergency."

"Lil Miss Lizzie’s aunt" shouldn't sting as much as it does and yet she feels herself wince just slightly at the idea of only being known as an aunt, never a mother. Of being known as a barren woman who defied her family's legendary fertility to have an empty house and a husband who tolerated her at best as of late.

"Oh you just have to try harder, Lilly. Must be something—in your diet. Or that stress of yours. Nathan days you've been downright mean when you talk sometimes."

She's been downright mean, it would take a downright mean person to know one wouldn't it? It would take a man who ignores his wife like Nathan does to recognize a woman who's mean when she talks. Frustrated is what Lilly was, dejected is what Lilly was. But mean? No, she tries too hard not to be mean that the idea of Nathan accusing her of such a thing is a betrayal of her heart.

Lilly sniffles slightly, attempting to play it off as allergies. "You could say that, Mr. Presley. Nathan had to rush out and I'm—I can't quite fix it myself. And you did say if anyone needed help with anything to make a call for you."

Elvis opens his mouth to speak before her sniffles hit him. It's as if a grenade has gone off in front of him. It's as if he can see the rubble of whatever had been in front of him at those small, barely-noticeable sniffles. Why…? There was no reason for her to be crying. 'Less she didn't want him to be here. Had he said something to offend her, something that made her emotional? Or was it embarrassment from needing to call him? He shouldn't reach out to touch her, shouldn't offer comfort he isn't sure she needs. But there's something about that small little sniffle that has him frowning and praying it's just allergies or the dust from his suit or something physical causing them. His hand moves to grab her own and—zzzt—that's when he feels a spark shoot into his hand, up his arm and settle in his chest. If he didn’t know any better he swears his heart skips a beat or two as he shakes his head.

"Know I'm not the most charming o' company Mrs. Harris but—I do good work. As for Mr. Harris, I'm sure he's busy bein' a good provider. Givin' ya everythin' ya need. Fixin' things can be a bit o' work for you young ones, ‘specially for the men after a long day. That's why you got ol’ fools like me. Fix things so ya don't gotta worry that pretty head of yours.”

Lilly's lips can't help but quirk into a smile, small as it is, at his words. They're not entirely comforting at face value but the longer she allows them to sit as she watches him set his bag down on the floor by her oven and make moves to actually do his job, the more they settle something inside of her. A final sniffle escapes her before she blows her nose by her sink, turning to face Elvis when she's finished.

Lilly's never put much stock in the idea that someone's entire aura and demeanor can change based on the clothes they wear. After all, she was the same person whether or not she was in her nightgown versus her dress or in the dresses she’d wear around the house compared to, say, her Sunday’s best. Mr. Presley, though, there’s something to be said about how he looks standing in front of her compared to how he looks every Sunday. There’s something to be said about how the jumpsuit he’s wearing almost looks too small for him but it’s just his middle that tightens the fabric. It’s just that paunch of his stomach yanking the fabric forward in an effort to contain him, stretching the fabric across his chest and making it so he has to leave the zipper partially undone before it reaches his neck. Her eyes refuse to linger on his lower half for too long but she can see how tight it is around his legs, around his thighs and she feels a shiver come over her for just a moment. This–this isn’t the same man who dresses in a full suit, jacket and all to church. This isn’t the same man who has his hair slicked back and his suit pants pressed like his mama’d taught him in church. 

This isn’t the same man she hands her niece off to every Sunday. No, this is another man entirely, a rugged down to Earth—salt of the Earth man. He’s a man who isn’t afraid to get dirty and afraid to work on things other people might stick their nose up at. He’s a man through and through and Lilly can’t help but wonder what else Mr. Presley’s been hiding. If there’s another side of him she hasn’t seen that is as fascinating and as invigorating to look at as this one. 

Not that she should be looking, not that the Lord wouldn't… perhaps this is why Nathan and her still have a fruitless marriage. A marriage of short kisses and dinner on the table and mothers who touch her belly and whisper how soon enough they'll be blessed. Perhaps with two at once. Maybe this is why the lord refuses to bless her—maybe if she didn't wish for company—covet her sister’s and her friends’ growing families. She could have company if she could keep Nathan home for longer than a few hours. 

Elvis’s mouth is opening and closing as if words are passing through them and Lilly blinks once, twice, three times before shaking her head to clear it of the thoughts that have started to swirl around it. "I'm sorry Mr Presley, could you–could you repeat what you just said. My mind went… I started trying to figure out what I could scrounge up in case this takes too long.”

There’s a chuckle, warm and inviting that leaves Elvis’s lips at the explanation before he shakes his head. “Got that little faith in me, Mrs. Harris? Think ya gonna be without an oven for a whole day? I’ll have this fixed up in in an hour, two if that.” He pauses and smiles. “Most of the time, it’s somethin’ real simple. Like ya said, you or Mr. Harris could’ve fixed it but ya both got things to do. Him, goin’ to work and bringin’ home the money and you, uh, takin’ care of… the house.” 

Lilly’s chest tightens at his words, at how he stops mid sentence. She knows perfectly well what he was going to say, that she would be taking care of the children and the house, but the house is as empty as her womb. There’s a warmth to it, of course, attempts at making things as inviting as can be and yet there’s always the gust of cold air from the fridge or from the screen door opening and closing making the house feel even emptier than it is. Emptier in a way it doesn’t feel right in this moment with someone else in the house. Not with someone like Mr. Presley taking up so much space in her kitchen just from height and bulk by his lonesome. Maybe even just from his presence alone. Still, his words settle her fear just a bit as she watches him bend down to open her oven. She can’t help how her eyes linger on the worn fabric stretched across his backside and under, between his legs. They’re right there, and she hadn’t meant to look, she was just about to say something to him, something that’s been swallowed up by every thought that slams into her head at the vision in front of her. Oh, she–she’s just on edge from this morning and how Nathan left so quickly. That’s all this is, nothing more, nothing less. She takes a breath and moves to grab a pitcher from her lower cabinets unaware that Elvis had looked back to ask something of her before being presented with the sight in front of him. It’s nothing untoward, and is purely chaste but there’s something about the way her dress tightens just a smidge around her backside that has him swallowing his tongue and moving to stick his head in the oven with a flashlight to see what might be the problem.

 

The problem as he expected was something simple, an easy fix with a part he has in his bag but he notices how there’s a few other things that could be dealt with while he’s down here. He should charge her for them, but… he finds he doesn’t want to. Finds that spending time in her company is worth the extra time he’d be spending in her oven. Especially when he hears her voice softly singing some—he thinks that might be Jo Strafford but he can’t be sure. There’s an element of homeliness that has him sighing while in the oven. Normally he feels this sense of ease in church and here he is with Mrs. Harris and she makes him feel just the same. 

“Mr. Presley, are you alright? Do… Is it worse than you thought?” He hears her soft voice above him and bashes his head against the top of the oven, cursing slightly as he does. 

“‘M fine. It’s fine Mrs. Harris. Jus’ looking at the work I gotta do. Definitely—gonna take all two of those hours I promised ya but it’ll be good as new when I’m finished with it,” Elvis answers, rubbing at his head and moving his arm down to rummage through his bag, worried about how he’d look if he bothered to pull himself out from inside the oven. 

The problem with doing that, the problem with hiding away in the oven as he does, is that even though the thing isn’t on, it’s stifling in the summer heat. Roasting him slowly but surely as he feels beads of sweat enter his eyes and slightly fog up his glasses. His free hand, unoccupied with his work, moves to grab a cloth he has on his belt just to wipe at his eyes. He hopes he doesn’t get any dirt on them. Meanwhile above him, Lilly busies herself with puttering around the kitchen. She’s making lemonade that’s almost as sweet as her sweet tea, but only because she’s never really enjoyed how sour lemons can be, sure that was supposed to be part of the allure but—Lilly’s never been that sour of a person. Instead more full of sugar sweet smiles and sweet Southern charm that had her husband falling at her feet when they were teenagers and had his parents eating out of her hand the moment she said hello. 

It takes Elvis damn near the whole two hours to finish, finally managing to finish a little bit after lunch time. Just enough time for LIlly to whip up something real quick, nothing too fancy, but Nathan would understand in this case, after all, it’s not as if he had fixed it before work. She hears Elvis’s groan from inside the oven and she can’t help the way she crouches down at the noise, making sure her legs are covered with her dress and moving to hold out her hand in an effort to help him pull himself out from inside her oven. She notices the dirt on his hands but doesn’t mind in the slightest, knowing she’s got a functioning sink and from that groan he honestly just might need a hand getting up out of it. There's a hesitation and an aborted attempt to swat her hand away before he takes it as both their arms twitch at the same time when their hands touch. 

"Didn't shock ya, did I, lil darlin'?" His voice sounds distant for a moment as he uses the leverage from her hand to scoot himself out and then pull himself up into a sitting position. 

“No, Mr. Presley, you didn’t—” Lilly’s words trail off as she looks at Mr. Presley’s face and notices just how covered in sweat it is. It shouldn’t be that sweaty, she thinks, it shouldn’t look like he’s practically used her garden hose in the back to hose himself down. That rag should’ve been used to mop up the glittering beads rolling down his cheekbones and collecting in the dip of his cupid’s bow. Unless he has somehow lost the ability to put it to use—but as Lilly’s eyes trace down his strong forearm she finds it’s translucent in a way that brings to mind summers outside and gigglingly waving at the boys across the lake. Being in a confined space like her oven would cause something like this, would cause someone to sweat as much as this but seeing it in front of her, seeing it before her very eyes has Lilly struck a bit speechless. There’s a glass of lemonade in her hand that she plans on offering Mr. Presley but the words refuse to come out, caught in her throat as she just stares at him. Stares at the sweat covering his face and his hair and making there be this curl among all the chocolate brown plastered to his head. It shouldn’t—it isn’t attractive on Nathan or any other boy she had ever seen look similar to this after a football game or after a hard day of entertaining outside. Yet here was Mr. Presley looking so very attractive that Lilly can’t find the words to describe it. This could not be the man she had seen so many times at church, at Sunday School when she dropped off her niece. 

Elvis is confused the longer he looks at Lilly, the longer he sees her staring at him like he’s a prime cut of meat. That—he hasn’t seen that look on a woman since after the war, since before his overeating and the nightmares and the grief and the visions he can’t ever stop thinking of unless he’s working. Sure, there’s still the few who try and set him up with their daughters who they figure can’t find another man and the few widows who remember how he was when he first came back to Memphis. But someone who’s Lilly’s age looking at him like that? Like she might be willing to pounce on him despite the ring on her finger? Oh, that was… That is something he cannot entertain, that has to be the heat finally getting to him, finally making him imagine things that certainly aren’t there. There’s no conceivable way someone as sweet as Miss Lilly, Mrs. Harris, Lilly, would ever be looking at him like that. His eyes drift down to the glass in her hand and a grin threatens to overwhelm his face as he grabs it with a simple thanks and starts to down the drink without a care in the world.

Lilly’s eyes watch as a single sweat drop rolls down his skin. Mr. Presley’s neck is stretched out as he drinks, Adam’s apple bobbing. The drops of water on the outside of the glass fall to his neck. They join their sweat brothers in rolling slowly but surely down his throat, tracing a path her mind whispers to her about chasing with her tongue as she had more than once before with Nathan. They roll down past his collarbone and down to his chest—his exposed chest because of that stupid zipper. They make a home in the patch of sweat and musk and warmth that is his chest hair and Lilly’s mouth opens to let out a choked-off squeak, she thinks. Or maybe it was her choking on her own breath, on her own tongue as she tries to say something, tries to tell Mr. Presley to set down the glass or drink slower or that he missed so much sweat on his body. Maybe–maybe it went all the way down, oh, maybe it…no, she cannot entertain this idea, she cannot entertain the way her mind wants to explore the possibilities. Tonight Nathan can help rid her of these thoughts, he can help her forget how she sees all this sweat gliding down another man’s skin. Down Mr. Presley’s skin, down the skin of someone who teaches Sunday school and wears tight jumpsuits that leave nothing to the imagination. The thoughts swirl and swirl as she clenches her thighs together and rubs them against each other. There is a smooth, slick quality to the glide that makes a flush of shame rise to the very apples of her cheeks, or maybe that’s the way Mr. Presley’s body is burned into her mind.

“Oh.” She exhales the word, swaying a little before she shakes her head, “Mr. Presley. You— Your—” Lilly shuts her eyes before continuing. “Are you enjoying the lemonade? My lemonade?”

“My lemonade”? What was she thinking, it was just lemonade, she didn’t have a claim over it, she didn’t want to know if Elvis enjoyed something of hers. That way of thinking—no, she just wanted to make sure she had made it correctly. That she had made it the right amount of sweet for him to enjoy and for it to quench his thirst. A repayment for making him do such a silly job as he just finished doing for her. Her eyes meet his as she finally is able to take her eyes off of his neck, off the vein in his neck that throbbed as he swallowed, at the way his swallows allowed the droplets of sweat and water roll down his throat. Her hand twitches with a desire to touch and hold. 

“I loved it. Sweet as anything I‘ve ever had.” He licks his lips, tasting the tangy salt of his sweat cutting through the sweetness of her lemonade. It’s not a lie, he truly does enjoy her lemonade, but he thinks–he thinks he might enjoy her company more, enjoy how she asks if he’s alright and worries about him enough to give him lemonade after he swears he’s practically sweat through his own jumpsuit. Not many people extended such domestic kindness to him anymore. He was Elvis the Pelvis, Elvis the Sunday School teacher, he was Elvis the electrician, but never just Elvis. He wasn’t ever just a man that a pretty wife might offer lemonade to. “Ya mind if I have another glass?” 

The way she hands over the pitcher is almost robotic or automatic and Elvis can’t help the way his hand shoots out to grab it, his fingers brushing over hers yet again igniting another spark between them. It’s not possible and yet he swears he feels it from his fingertips up to the top of his arm. Lilly pulls back her hand quickly, cradling it against her chest. “You can have th-the whole… the whole pitcher if you need.” 

Elvis laughs, the idea almost as comical as the way she says it with a straight face. Pouring the glass, he shakes his head at her and shrugs, “Can’t polish one of these off myself. If I had help now—” 

There’s something inside of Lilly that loosens at those words, at the playful nature of them despite how there is perhaps a flirtatious edge to them. It’s as if there was something inside of her that she hadn’t realized was a problem before that evaporated at Mr. Presley’s laugh and at his smile. It felt like true enjoyable company, the sort of company you’re supposed to have with your friends and your husband, but Lilly can’t remember the last time she felt it with anyone other than her sister. Her mild bitterness at swollen bellies and husbands who came by and kissed their wives on their cheek, happy to see them and see their handiwork coloring her happiness to see friends. God hadn’t seen fit to grace her womb with a child, and Nathan was alright with that despite Lilly’s pleas so she had dropped it all the while pushing those friends away, the reminder of the dream she wanted slipping farther and farther out of her grasp, through her fingers like the sand on the beach. 

Lilly smiles and grabs the other glass on the table, it is normally Nathan’s but she can set out another one, she can do the dishes before he arrives home while dinner is cooking. She sets it right in front of Elvis. “If you’ll do me the honor of pouring it. If you’re a gentleman.”

The laugh sounds almost sinister when it leaves his mouth, a dark sort of thing but the warmth in it has Lilly realizing that perhaps it’s a special laugh. Maybe it could be his laugh for only her. Nathan had one of those for her, once upon a time. She misses that laugh and to have another person give one to her is… it warms her soul from the inside out and she swears she feels a part of her, a part she knows has been snapped in half for the past year at least snaps back into place. His words are almost missed but when she focuses, puts him back in focus, she hears him clear as day as he pours her a glass. "God and my mama'd strike me down if I wasn't a gentleman, 'specially to you, Lil darlin."

There it was again. A nickname. Nathan never gave her one, told her that her name was already short enough and pretty enough and yet here was Mr. Presley giving her one. It’s an open secret he’s liberal with his use of nicknames and yet hearing one perhaps only for her has her heart fluttering in her chest, fluttering against the confines of the bones keeping it inside. Lil darlin, a shortened version of Lilly and darling in one simple nickname. Her body warms at the implication of familiarity. “Thank you, Mr. Presley.” Her teeth move to worry at her lower lip as she toys with a question inside her head before looking at him. “Would–Would you like to stay for dinner? Nathan—Mr. Harris might be late and I’m—you’re charming company.”

The way she starts and stops in asking makes Elvis want to say yes, wants to put her at ease and tell her there’s perhaps nothing he’d like to do more that afternoon, but his eyes drift down to her ring glinting in the light and he sighs, shaking his head. The thought is tempting, but thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife and thou shall not commit adultery. While he may not do the second, he knows if he stays much longer he’s likely to do the first. “Not—I appreciate the invitation, Mrs. Harris, but I have to get home. Maybe. A raincheck?”

A raincheck. A promise of maybe another time. A promise of if things were different he would say yes in a heartbeat. A promise that if he could he would stay sitting at her dining table and drink lemonade as she cooked dinner for her husband. Her husband, the one she cares for and loves with all her heart. He— He— There should be no raincheck and yet he wants her to agree to one.

“A raincheck.” Her face had fallen as he let her down easy before the mention of the raincheck, the mention of it making her smile once again. The mention of it having her smile and beam and bloom like her flower namesake, soaking in the attention as if it was water meant to nourish her and fulfill her. “Of course. You—Just finish as much of the lemonade as you’d like and you can see yourself out, if that’s alright? Just—so I can make dinner and have it done on time.”

His eyes watch as she stands up, smoothing out her clothes and sees how she practically glides across the floor of the kitchen as if she’s a natural in it. Her body moves as if it’s used to being around people and used to having people underfoot and Elvis is struck by how it feels like something is missing watching her, feels as if something doesn’t seem right in the picture. There should be someone else near her. He—no, that’s not a path he’ll go down today. After another ten minutes of him just watching her work and two more glasses of lemonade, he sets down the glass and makes his way out the door. “Goodnight, Lil darlin’!”

It feels a little dirty, the way when he gets home and is in bed for the night his cock jumps at the memory of her staring at his chest. He knows she's married, saw the ring clear as day in the sunlight but that look. He only remembers that look from June when he took her once upon a time. Had her husband not been giving her what she needed? Had she not been given the proper water to blossom? Had he been leaving her to wilt inside their shared home that she kept so well? Had he–had he deprived her of the ability to put down roots? The idea knocks the air out of his lungs and has him praying for forgiveness no more than five minutes later as he wipes his hand on a dirty shirt nearby.

Elvis doesn’t see Lilly until that Sunday in church, and yet his mind wanders to her when he’s working with other people’s issues. None of them are as simple as hers was and it makes him almost angry that he’s stuck spending his time with these issues when hers were over far too quick. Time flies when you’re having fun, but had he been having fun? Or was it just that God himself knew better than to allow him to stay in her house for too long, the urges he could feel flowing through his veins almost too hard to ignore. When he does, though, when he does he sees her in the most gorgeous of dresses, a simple baby blue number that matched her sister’s and matched her brother in law's tie. He expects to see her husband. Nathan, she had called him, and instead only sees the three of them and one small little girl in Lilly’s arms. Little Lizzie being carried by Lilly and looking so at ease and happy in her arms that Elvis’s heart twists at the image. A woman like that, a woman who can get a child that was less than a year old to be so calm and collected in a sea of people… now that’s a woman who ought to have a passel of kids, a football team of children. A platoon of children behind her, all in single file, smitten husband bringing up the rear. Yet here she was on a Sunday without her husband and tagging along as an extra hand, helping her sister who, if rumors were to be believed, was expecting again. He sees her wave off her sister and brother in law before she walks toward him, a soft smile on her face.

“Mr. Presley,” Lilly murmurs softly as Lizzie yawns in her arms and snuggles closer. “I was going to hand her off to you but I don’t think I can. I think she’d much prefer to keep her pillow.” She looks down at her niece before looking up at him. “I—If it’s alright, do you mind if I stay here?”

His hand moves in such a way as to brush off her concern. Did he mind if she stayed there? What sort of silly question was that. Did he mind if a woman who occupied his mind as he pleasured himself stayed in here with him. He has to bite back a laugh. If he could he’d let her stay in this room with him until time eternal, until the rapture where those who were worthy would be saved. She would be saved and perhaps–perhaps, if he could resist, he would have mended enough fences with God for him to do the same thing.

“I can always use the extra help, Mrs. Harris.” He motions to the children already around him. “They can be a bit of a handful.”

A laugh that sounds like the church bells ringing leaves her mouth as Elvis watches her bloom like she did at her house. There’s… It’s strange, seeing her so happy because of words he’s saying, almost as if he’s the reason she has to smile and she’s soaking up every bit of attention he can give her. Elvis has never fancied himself a gardener by any means but for her he thinks he might be one. Her husband should nurture her as she nurtures him and their children when they have any and yet he wonders if he does. He wonders if the boy, Nathan, realizes what he seems to be doing to Lilly, how her petals fall without attention, how she withers without his care, without his water nourishing her soul, her body and filling—Elvis shakes his head to clear it. 

“You always handle them so well, Mr. Presley. You’re a natural, I think.” The question is on the tip of her tongue, the question of why Elvis doesn’t have children of his own but she stops herself, she stops herself because it’s none of her business why. Maybe he just never found the right woman—a shame, she thinks. He would make a great husband from what she’s been able to see. A loving husband. A caring husband. So wrapped up in her own thoughts she very nearly misses him speaking to her as she sits down, shushing Lizzie’s protests at the movement and making sure the little ones around her quiet down.

"Surprised ya don't have children, Lil Darlin', ain't ever seen a woman be a natural with 'em like you," Elvis says, peeking over the rims of his glasses to a child who looked about ready to cause a complete ruckus. His focus is purely on that as he misses her wince and the way her hand reaches out to rub at her stomach, almost as if to mourn the lack of children from her womb.

"Nathan and I… We've been trying. Less often, lately, but—oh I don't—it just hasn't happened. God's saved those blessings for my sister. Little Lizzie and, and the one she's carrying now." Lilly bites her lip, trying not to let the tears she feels pooling in her eyes fall. She’s in public and Mr. Presley is just an acquaintance as of now, he doesn’t need to see the emotion she’s only ever reserved for her sister, Melly. A sniffle escapes her before she can stop it and Elvis’s hand reaches to grab a handkerchief from his pocket to give her to blow into and to dry her eyes. She takes it gladly.

"God'll gift ya one soon enough, be a cryin' shame if he didn't." A true statement of fact disguised as a reassurance. Elvis doesn’t think there’d be any true justice in the world if the Lord didn’t bless her with a child or several. Even now as they talked just her presence seemed to calm the children as they sat near her, waiting expectantly for him to tell a story or sing a song. Even Lilly dabbing his handkerchief at her eyes looked as if she was waiting for him and what he would do. As much as he wants to continue to talk with her, he thinks perhaps he should just entertain her. He thinks he should show off what he can do for her. His mind doesn’t dwell on the meaning behind it, instead choosing to dwell on how all he wants to do in that moment is watch Lilly be happy with her niece in her lap while she makes children listen and remain calm even if they are excited. 

The class is the calmest one he’s had in at least a year.

Things keep breaking in Lilly’s house and if Elvis was a suspicious man—if Elvis felt any hope when it came to Lilly, he would venture she called him on purpose. He would venture that she wants to see him and perhaps breaks things to do just that and yet they’re so different, each thing that’s broken, that he thinks perhaps it’s honestly things just breaking. The one true joy involved in it, though, beyond seeing her face when he’s fixed yet another thing is how she smiles when she sees him. 

Elvis is a man. Elvis is a man who can’t help himself sometimes. Elvis is a man who is not perfect. Elvis is a man who cannot and will not avoid the temptation of at least seeing Mrs. Harris more often. He learns Nathan rarely comes home on time except for certain days. He learns how great of a cook Lilly is, the smells wafting around the house when he works. He learns she’s a great cook because he’s tasted it at her insistence that he take home the food she’s made, if not insisting that he comes and eats with her. There is a part of him that thinks he’s playing her husband, replacing the man who is never home and is rarely at church with his wife despite how much it means to her. But Elvis knows he isn’t her husband. Despite what he does when it comes to cooking with her, despite how every so often his body betrays him, pictures her beneath him or on top of him, taking him in a way he wouldn’t think she could… he never acts on it. He never tells her. They haven’t crossed any lines, they are just friends who are becoming closer the more and more time they spend together. Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months and before he realizes, before either of them realize it’s been three months and another thing has broken. Something feels different as he finishes up and prepares to leave only to realize that he can’t, not with her the way she seems to be on this particular day. 

He knows he should have already left, knows that her husband is liable to be back sooner rather than later, after all today isn’t a day he normally goes straight out with his friends. Today is a day he comes home to eat dinner with his wife, perhaps—enjoy other pleasures with his wife and then leave with his friends. It is a Friday, he has the rest of the weekend to spend with the boys and he knows Lilly will be with him on the Saturday with their wives and Sunday during church and the potluck afterward, not that he enjoyed going to them. But Lilly looks so… she looks so in need of company, something had happened the night before, he reasons, something had caused her soul to curl in on itself to the point where she doesn’t talk nearly as much as she normally would with him. Sure, they had still been floating around each other, and she answered a question here and there and would check to make sure he wasn’t accidentally shocking and hurting himself but there was no humming above him, no subtle roll of her hips that made him ache when he was alone at home. Done with his work, he washes his hands in Lilly’s sink, watching as she busies herself putting the finishing touches on her dinner before she pops it into the oven he fixed a few months ago. Yet he can’t shake the feeling that something else in this house needs to be fixed beyond the oven and beyond the wiring he had fixed tonight. He’s never been one to leave a job undone or hastily finished only for it to fall apart some time later for someone else to repair, damage caused by his carelessness. His eyes against his better judgment watch as she bends, watch as her dress rises and stretches around her backside, highlighting it in a way that has him averting his eyes. When he hears the quiet slam of the oven closing he finally looks back at her and is met by her wiping her brow for a moment before staring at him. 

“Do I have something on my face?” The question is so innocent he almost laughs. She has nothing on her face. There’s nothing wrong with her face other than the fact that it’s marred by a frown instead of—at the very least—the small smile he’s used to seeing from her. He wants to fix it, he wants to keep her from wilting, make it so she can continue to bloom the way she has been from the moment they properly met outside of church. 

“Ah… No, Lil Darlin, you don’t. Ya jus’—did somethin’ happen with you and Nathan last night? Ya look awfully sad and I—you weren’t even hummin’ today. Felt like I needed to put on a record it felt so quiet in the kitchen.” Elvis tries to choose his words carefully and even so Lilly’s face falls just a hair as she sighs. 

“Oh. I–I didn’t realize it looked so obvious. I…We were supposed to go on a date, Mr. Presley. We were supposed to go on a date and he was supposed to take me dancing because we haven’t in over a year and I miss it. But—there was a business meeting that ran late and by the time he got home I was too tired and the dance hall was—”

“Closed,” he finishes off for her, knowing full well what time every dance hall in the general area of Memphis closed. He knew full well that the only one that might have stayed open past a normal time was the army one and Nathan, unlike him, was not an army man. No, he was merely a boy–a boy playing at doing business and taking care of his wife financially but not emotionally. There it was again, that deep unceasing urge to fix it, that urge to fix this even if it’s not his place to try to fix anything beyond her appliances and her wiring. His fingers twitch against the side of his leg as he feels them both loosen, one even bouncing just slightly. It’s as if his body is trying to rev up while his mind reminds him with a traitorous whisper he still has every bit of equipment needed to help—to fix this, even if it's all more than a bit rusty. He can shake off that rust just fine, if it was for her. 

 “I… Lil Darlin. If—I know how to dance. Know I don’t look it, with this paunch,” he gives his stomach a light slap that has it jiggling just a bit and has Lilly’s eyes widening and a flush of desire coursing through her veins, wondering how that would feel under her hands, not that he notices. “But I used to do a lot of swing dancin’, if—I could dance wit’ ya if ya want me to. Ya can say no, but the offer’s there.”

For a moment, Lilly just stares at Elvis as if he’s grown an extra head. Surely he’s saying this in jest, he doesn’t mean what he’s asking, he isn’t offering to treat her better than her husband did. He isn’t offering to dance with her in the kitchen or the living room. That’s–that’s such a silly notion that despite how their relationship, their friendship has grown he can’t be caring for her more than her husband does. The laugh that escapes her sounds harsh even to her own ears as she winces at the sound, her eyes meeting his as if there's a million and one apologies on her tongue. His eyes make every apology that tries to form disappear in every breath she takes. He's not angry, doesn't think she's mocking him with her laughter. As always he realizes she just thinks he’s joking or that there is no way he actually wishes to do what he’s mentioned because after all, if her own husband doesn’t want to dance with her why would a stranger or a friend of sorts want to? That’s not something you do for a woman when you aren’t married to her. Swing dancing in her living room, that has to be a joke. 

Her voice is quiet, though, once she stops laughing and notices how Elvis still looks like he might be expecting an answer, as if she hadn’t practically mocked the mere idea of them swing dancing in her living room. Maybe—oh, maybe he was being genuine. Oh, he was far too good to her, indulging her silly wants and desires as if they were married instead of just merely friends. "You're… you don't have to." There. There, she had given him a chance to take back what he offered and made it so they could move on from this—move on from what such an offer meant to her and how she could feel her throat tightening and her heart in her chest twisting. 

Elvis takes a moment to just take her in, take in the way her body seems to wilt at the mere idea of him not dancing with her and the idea of him taking her up on her offer of taking back what he agreed to. The breath that leaves him is overtaken by a laugh, though he tries to stifle it. He holds out his hand and moves to the living room. "Lil Darlin', wouldn't've offered if I didn't. Gonna have to forgive me if 'm rusty. Haven't done it in a while."

"Neither have I." 

He's sure he feels a muscle in his jaw tense at those words before he shakes his head to clear it. Soon enough her husband would realize how much he's let his wife wilt from lack of attention, from lack of water to nourish her body and soul. For now though, for now he’s here to help her, to make her smile and be happy in a way she deserves to be. Her hand is soft enough that he almost feels wrong touching it with his callus-filled ones. It feels wrong to have such soft skin against his own but at the same time, it settles something deep within him to feel her hand in his and to feel her pressed against his body. He takes a moment to put on a record, praying it actually is something they can dance to only to realize it’s “Sing Sing Sing”, a song he’s danced to more times than he cares to count. Laughter erupts from in a fit of pure joy as he sees Lilly’s face light up when they start to dance. 

There should be a bit of awkwardness that only comes from when you first try to dance with a new partner, and yet they fall into a rhythm so natural his mind swirls with the possibility of dancing with her like this the rest of his life. Her feet move in step with his, easily avoiding his own, before he grabs her to pick her up, a move he hasn’t done in almost a decade but he does with an ease that shocks him as she giggles, the sound adding to the music as if it’s another horn. He’s getting dizzy with the sheer joy of hearing it. It feels so natural to swing and toss and lift her up as she smiles brighter than anything he’s ever seen. It looks like the sunrise in France when there was those brief moments of peace. All he can think is how that smile needs to be there every second of the day, that’s a smile that deserves to be seen, deserves to be shown off to everyone and yet—and yet he hopes not even her husband has seen this smile. Perhaps this is just for him and his swing dancing with her. Maybe no one else has seen this smile, because he swears even when he was younger he didn’t move nearly like this, didn’t smile so hard his cheeks are burning from the use. 

Elvis is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he misses her foot positioned a certain way when he moves to pick her up for another lift and stumbles. A short curse leaves his lips as he moves to fall on one knee with Lilly falling onto his other knee. He hisses at the pain, knowing he’ll regret this move later, but he couldn’t have her falling to the ground, couldn’t have her risk being injured because he couldn’t catch her—because he lost his footing like a klutz. Except Lilly is still laughing, she’s still laughing and still putting off every bit of joy in the world in his lap. His eyes run down her body, seeing how she’s breathless, her chest heaving and pushing the buttons of her dress. He shouldn’t look and yet he sees, he sees how her chest is heaving in delight. As if to help himself—to keep himself from staring even longer his eyes dart down to her legs, down to her thighs where, oh Lord, her dress has risen up just a hair. Just enough to reveal more of her thigh, to reveal a hint of a stocking that has his mouth drying up the longer he stares. Her legs haven’t seemed to catch up with her brain and the rest of her body, thinking they’re still on the ground and needing to kick up and down almost like a child. There’s a playful exuberance in the action as she appears to not have a care in the world despite how the action has her dressing riding up that little bit more as she continues to giggle and kick at the air in his lap. The skin and the stockings threaten to overwhelm him as he feels the stirring in between his legs a moment too late as he sees Lilly’s eyes widen.

“Oh.” A singular word yet one that packs such a punch as he realizes what it means. What it means for her to utter it to him like that when she’s in his lap as his cock rises to attention like he’s back fresh from the army, wanting to dance with a new girl every night and yet here is one singular woman reacting in such a calm and startled way that he has to stop himself from tossing her off of him in a huff. Still, he lightly pushes at her in an effort to keep her from feeling just how aroused he is only to have her hand reach out and touch his face. Against his will, he nuzzles into her palm before remembering that he needs to make sure she’s not… she needs to be away from his lap. The—his cock—Lil Elvis was not needed here, she was married and he was not that young soldier returning from war any more, no he was merely this fat old man who let himself go and found himself lusting after a fellow church goer’s wife. His young wife. 

He misses her words before she repeats them, allowing them to cut through the haze he feels from having her looking up at him happy in his lap. “Your knee! I’m so sorry, Mr. Presley.” Her words are said in a rush as she scrambles to get up, her hand accidentally brushing across his cock before she finally stands up and holds out her hand. “Let me help you up, are you alright—?”

“‘M fine.” Elvis grunts out, as he pulls himself up using Lilly’s hand and his own strength. He hears his knee crack, wincing as it does. “Jus’... Lil–Lil darlin, I gotta, I need to go.”

Needs to get out of her house, needs to not be in front of a woman who has his cock standing at such intense attention that he knows if she looks down she’ll be shocked and horrified at him. He’s committing such an egregious sin even thinking of her this way, even viewing her in the light of a romantic partner, a sexual partner. Viewing her as his—no, he needs to find his way to his truck and to his house to be free of this temptation that he worries he’s about to succumb to. His eyes notice how her face falls but she doesn’t try to stop him, instead frowning and stepping away, smoothing out the bottom of her dress. As if he’s running away—fleeing her presence like all the other men in her life. He moves quicker than he has any right to, right on past her, forgetting about niceties and being a gentleman and wanting to make her happy, shutting the door behind him.

It only takes Lilly a few minutes to realize that she forgot to ask him something about Sunday school and his plans for this week. The question isn’t perhaps important but to her it is. And Mr. Presley has never once made her feel unimportant, so it is without hesitation that she trots outside to where she sees him still in his truck in her driveway muttering angrily to himself while looking down. Her mama had always told her it was rude to eavesdrop and yet here she was doing exactly that as she walked up to the truck, not immediately announcing her presence. She hears curses and mentions of his cock and “she’s a nice young woman, why are ya standin’ at attention like she ain’t married, boy. Like ya ain’t attached to an old man she’s jus’ spendin’ time with to be nice.” 

Lilly wants to correct him, wants to tell him that she values his company because it’s better than anything she’s received in so long and yet she doesn’t, instead choosing to come up to his side of the truck and lean against the window before moving just enough that she’s leaning her head inside the truck as well. What she sees—she could not have prepared herself for what she sees.

Feeling his interest in her is one thing that can be explained through the two of them dancing in a way that had her moving against him. It’s a natural response. Feeling it when she collapsed onto his knee, breathless and laughing with enough joy that she wishes she could chase till the ends of the Earth is one thing. Coming out to his truck because she forgot to ask him about his plans for Sunday school this week and seeing that same interest still there was another thing entirely. Lilly tries to keep her eyes focused on his face, tries to not allow her natural position of leaning into the car to make it easier for her to look down between his legs but her eyes drift there against her will. Her eyes drift and the olive of the suit doesn’t allow him to hide what’s going on. Instead it broadcasts exactly what he feels between his legs. 

There is a spot slowly growing in size on his jumpsuit. There is a spot where she felt his arousal. There is a wet spot on his jumpsuit for her. No, because of her. Mr. Presley is aroused by her, he’s aroused so much that it’s seeping through his clothing. Even when she was younger and fooling around with Nathan she hadn’t seen someone react to her as strongly as Mr. Presely is right now. The concept of breathing is foreign as she keeps looking down at it and she swears she sees the fabric twitch under her gaze. Somehow that twitch and the accompanying noise—the whimper, maybe—from him is almost like a harsh smack to her back to force the air to leave and enter her lungs. 

“Lil—Mrs. Harris.” Elvis’s words are choked out and he thanks God that his stutter didn’t reappear in that moment, the shame of everything making his skin feel flush and warm even as his cock twitches under her gaze, aching and wanting to play with its new friend, its friend it yearns for same as his heart and mind. Damn the societal norms and what’s proper for a good Christian man, he wants, he wants, he needs her to stop looking at it. “I’m—my face is up here.” His hand tightens against his thigh after he says that, almost as if he wants to wince. “What do ya need?”

Her eyes finally wrench themselves from the spot even as his cock twitches yet again, a wave of goodbye to her eyes—to her. What had she needed to tell him? What–What did she need from him other than—? No, it was church. God. It was about Sunday School. A shaky exhale leaves her mouth before she speaks. “I-I just wanted to make sure you–you might want my help again this week with the children? I know that since everyone—all the children seem to have gotten over the tummy trouble that we’ll—you’ll have your hands full and I—” 

The more she speaks the more her mind cycles back to what she’s seen, the more her breaths come by shorter and quicker, her chest heaving right near Elvis’s eye level and that… her dress has just enough of a sliver of skin showing he can see them heave with only her brassiere on, it’s threatening to drive him mad, threatening to cause him to reach out the hand he’s fisting into his jumpsuit to touch the skin. To touch her skin and feel if it’s as soft as it is on her arms and her thigh and— 

“Yes!” His answer is barked out, sounding more like an order than him merely answering a simple question in the affirmative. Forcing it out is the only thing he can do to calm his mind, to calm his cock, to get Lilly, Mrs. Harris to lean back out of his truck and to remove the temptation of her, her, her from his view. “You—please, I’d love your help, told ya before—the babies love ya.” He coughs, clearing his throat, as he remembers how she looks with a child in her lap, singing lullabies and cooing. It does nothing to help him calm his body, to help him calm his mind. “Is—Was that all ya needed?”

Lilly jumps a little at his bark, her breasts bouncing as she bonks her head against the top of the truck with a soft ouch leaving her mouth. Her hand moves to rub at her head as she pulls back a little, trying to keep her eyes looking firmly at his face versus where it had been. She hears him curse and feels his warm hand touching her head where she had hit it, gingerly investigating if she hurt herself in a major way. A hum and a feather soft touch that she wishes were his lips are what tells her she’s fine, there’s no damage done to her head. She should pull away, should finally stop leaning into his truck, should stop acting as if she’s a wife trying to have the last bit of attention from her husband before he leaves for work but she can’t help it. She can’t help how she wants to stay where she is, just because of how heady it feels to see his attraction—his desire for her. When was the last time she had seen Nathan like this? Lilly couldn’t remember. Couldn’t… the realization sucks the air out of the truck and Lilly feels every bit of heat and humidity in the cabin and around her skin. Her mouth opens and closes before she smiles softly at Mr. Presley. “Yes, that—yes. I just—I had forgotten to ask before so that was all I needed, Mr. Presley.” Her eyes glance back down at his lap to see how his hand is still clenching the fabric of his jumpsuit and how his cock once again twitches at her attention. She feels her skin flush and she shivers slightly when she finally starts to move back. 

Elvis looks at her as she leans back, watches her start to stand up straight by his truck and tries to not focus on her chest, tries to not focus how her breath seems shaky as she does this. His mind cannot think about what this means, cannot think about why she’s reacting in this way. She is not—he is not. They are not one. They are Elvis and Lilly. He’s so busy trying to make sure she’s out of his truck that he doesn’t realize she’s leaning back in until he feels the brush of her lips against his cheek. His head turns as if he wants to catch those lips only to realize she’s already left, only to realize she’s back to standing straight, acting as if she didn’t just kiss his cheek and looking so happy he can’t help but be reminded of an actual lily in full bloom. 

“I should–I should get goin’. Mr. Harris should be here soon. Wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.” He looks down at his lap as he turns on the truck and sighs. He needs–he needs to get home, to wash away how dirty he feels in this moment. 

“You–you wouldn’t. But, yes, Nathan should be home soon. Thank you for, um, thank you dancing with me, Mr. Presley. I-It was—I haven’t had a good time like that in a bit.” Her upper teeth worry at her lower lip. “Perhaps… Maybe we can do that again some time. The next time I have to call you out.”

“May—you just have to ask, Lil darlin’.” His answer is airy, shocking him in how it sounds almost as if he’s in a tunnel or floating on air at the idea. The truck is finally ready to allow him to back out and he finally lets go of his jumpsuit to wave at her with a tight smile. “Good night, Mrs. Harris.” 

Elvis tries to not focus on how she looks in her driveway waving at him as if all her neighbors aren’t peering through the curtains wondering what’s happening next door. He tries to not focus on how she looks so natural waving to him with her arm cupping her waist almost as if she aches for… no, she–she wouldn’t. The heat and the events of the afternoon were causing him to think these dumb thoughts, these dumb desires. A shower would solve his problems once he got home. 

His mind wanders in the shower, a consequence of it being one that's meant to relax rather than to just cleanse him of the day's adventures. His mind wanders and rather than settling on the horrors of his memories that he can never get rid of, it settles on her. It settles on the comforting smell of her perfume and how she smells of a soap he swears his mama used to use. It settles on the light he sees in her eyes sometimes that burns brighter than any light bulb or sun or explosion he's ever seen. It settles on the comforting weight of her body against his when he danced with her, lifting her in the air like he was a decade younger and half a person smaller, he thinks. It settles on the weight of her body on his knee, an action that hurt and had him nearly stumbling and falling on top of her, but had him catching himself before he did. It settles on her face, so full of joy and life that it thawed something inside of him. It settles her face with a smile so big he smiles at the memory. It settles on the laugh and the feeling of her kicking her legs while on his knee. It remembers the glimpse of her thigh and—he looks down to see his cock at attention once again, precum already dripping out like he's turned on a faucet and he groans, his fist slamming against the wall as he tries to stop his other hand from wrapping around his cock. He fails miserably and shudders, his eyes shutting and mumbling her name, his mind picturing her sweet hand around it before she puts it in her mouth. His cheek burns when he comes.

Elvis tries to avoid thinking of what happened for the next week. He tries to avoid thinking of how his body can’t forget how it felt to have her notice his arousal, to have her touch his arousal however accidental the action was. He tries to avoid thinking of everything and yet he can’t. It mocks him to the point of near insanity. The guilt of wanting—the guilt of needing—the guilt of wishing has him visiting his mother’s grave one early morning after another restless night of sleep. His joints groan and ache as he sits down next to it.

“I met someone, Mama. I wish she wasn't married. You'd–you'd've loved her. Dances so well, perfect lil housewife. She'd–she'd take care of me like ya did. Take care of ya lil boobie right." Elvis huffs out a laugh. "God hasn't given… Hasn't blessed her wit' a baby and—she'd—it's a cryin' shame. I'd take care of her child any Sunday. Any day."

His mind drifts as he tells her more about Lilly, drifts to a world where it’s their children he takes care of and his stomach flips from the mere idea. Thou shall not covet thy neighbor's wife and thou shall not commit adultery and yet he feels like he’s edging closer and closer to doing it. Feels as if something is going to break inside of him or between them soon. The prayers he sends to God every night are starting to include pleas to give him strength to resist his urges, to allow himself to remain on the correct path and to not allow himself to fall prey to his base desires. To fall prey to sin of the highest order, to wreck a marriage no matter how much pain and destruction it contains, no matter how the pain threatens to burst at the seams. 

“Don’t know why… Don’t understand why God is testing me like this. Lilly—Mrs. Harris—Miss Lilly deserves to be happy. Deserves to make a life with her husband and here the Lord wants to test me by putting–by putting her in front of me like this. By… I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist. I—I wish she had met me before the war. ‘Fore all this.” 

Elvis feels a gust of wind in an otherwise calm breeze that settles him down as he tries to work himself up. It settles him down and reminds him of his mother’s listening to him and protecting him even in death. Knowing her, she might be trying to have a talk with the Lord Himself right in this very moment. 

“Thank you, Mama,” he whispers as he moves to stand up, running his hand across the top of the headstone. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

Something is different about today, another day Nathan where once again told her to send for the man who tempts her, unable or unwilling to mend his own house. It no longer feels like Nathan’s house, and that should be worrisome to her. Instead, something is different in the air between them and Lilly wonders if Elvis can feel it, if he can't feel how her heart is beating out of her chest when their fingers brush against each other as they swap ingredients. If he can't feel how her breath catches every time she looks up at him and sees him staring at her, watching her stir something or sprinkle a bit of salt onto the food. She wonders if he can hear her thoughts, hear what nasty things her brain thinks watching him be so domestic with her. She wonders what it would be like to be his wife instead of Nathan's. 

Her hands are dirty, covered in raw juice from the chicken and she knows she needs to wash them before cutting up the collards and the snap peas and—Lord she knows she's making far too much food but perhaps Elvis can take some home and remember today. Remember the care the two of them put into the meal. Her mother had always taught her to put the same amount of love in food as you would put into the person you make it for. Perhaps it should worry her that her heart feels fit to burst with her love for this food. It doesn't take too long for her to wash up and grab the towel and yet it's enough time for Elvis to reach a dish above her in the cabinet by her head. It's enough time to have him press up against her, his stomach a warm and solid yet soft presence behind her. It's enough time for her body to freeze in place, before she feels herself sway back a little and feels her breath leave her mouth all at once. It's enough time that Elvis notices these things, sees his reflection against the glass of the window above the sink and sees Lily's against his. He sees—he sees her eyes shut and her head bow as he feels her body shudder. 

A dam—the dam holding back any shred of self control Elvis had breaks in that moment. It breaks the second he feels her body shudder against him, the second he sees her melt into his embrace like she belongs there. A groan leaves his lips unbidden and Lilly, sweet Lilly, whimpers at the sound, her eyes opening and seeing the erotic vision of the two of them still clothed against each other. Her body rocks back even as his arm snakes around her trying to hold her in place, trying to keep her from moving against him and yet it barely works, her body seeks him out, wishes for more than what he’s giving her and he–he can’t oblige. She doesn’t know what she wants. His lips brush against the shell of her ear, his breath a hot dagger against her skin. “You want this?”

A simple question. The most simple question with the most simple answer. A yes or a no determines Elvis’s actions in this moment. A no will have him backing away and apologizing profusely, a yes will have him granting her what she needs, what she wants. It will have him giving into the temptation he should resist but cannot any more. The temptation that the Lord must be putting him through for a reason, some higher plan he doesn’t understand quite yet. 

“Elvis, please,” Lilly’s voice is a whisper but Elvis hears his name finally fall from her lips and hears how desperate her please is and before he realizes it his hand moves to unzip his jumpsuit to reach down at the bottom, to try free his cock as Lilly starts to whine, wishing for more. Wishing for his touch.

As her chest heaves with quick breaths that Elvis tries to steady, a hand snakes up her body until it reaches her chest, covering so much of it that it ignites something primal within him. He’s always known he’s a large man and yet the way he sees her breasts rise and fall with his hand covering one is to know another thing entirely. He almost moves it away before Lilly stops him, her own hand covering his. There’s a tug of his hand forcing it into the gap between her dress and the skin of her neck and collarbone and Elvis can’t help but oblige her desire even as the heat from her body threatens to set the whole of his hand on fire. 

“I gotcha, Lil darlin'. Elvis's gotcha." His words are practically inaudible, they're said so low and deep from within his chest, but Lilly seems to get the message as her breaths start to slow, beginning to match pace with Elvis’s. He’s got her and she can relax. He’s got her and he’s going to take care of the ache inside of her. The ache she’s felt every day she’s seen him since he fixed her oven. Lilly’s brain swears it hears something about him needing to pull down his jumpsuit fully, something about the damn buttons and zippers and she feels her mouth moving to offer to help before she feels the heat of what has to be his bare chest against her dress. 

In another time and in another place he would have her help him, have her lift up her dress and help him with her undergarments but the way she sways and moves against him has him realizing he can’t trust her to do such a thing, he can’t trust her to be able to help him the way he needs her to. It’s not a problem and a selfish part of him thanks the Lord for it, thanks the Lord that she won’t turn around and that she won’t have her hand brush up against his unclothed cock. His foreskin won’t scare her off. He won’t scare her off with the intensity of his arousal and of how his cock is already dripping his precum onto her kitchen floor. It takes some maneuvering and he leans against her, pushing her against the sink, his body practically covering her as he lifts up her skirt and manages to pull her underwear down. Her vagina—her pussy—her flower is glistening just from the touches he’s given her. Nathan truly had been forsaking the wife he promised to love and cherish in the house of God if this is all it took to see this level of pleasure from Lilly. His fingers move to touch, to just feel the slick of her arousal. The cry she lets out nearly has him jumping away and yet he knows he can’t, knows after hearing that noise from her mouth he needs to hear it again. He wants to wrench it from her over and over until she’s hoarse. 

Elvis takes his time sinking into the wet heat between her legs, he’s seen the pictures of Nathan and seen the man in person once before. There is no conceivable way she is used to someone of his size inside of her and he'd be damned before he ever injured her in any way. Let alone when he’s—no, he won’t think of that, won’t think of anything other than treating her as she deserves to be treated by a man. By her own husband but he’ll do—he can do what her husband won’t. His eyes can’t help but watch even as his mind tells him not to. His eyes can’t help but watch how her hole stretches around him, trying to take him in bit by bit. The memory sears itself into his brain and he knows in that moment he won’t likely be able to forget this, won’t be able to walk away from this unscathed. 

Her body feels full, between her legs feels full, she feels so full even as she knows there has to be more. He’s as long as her husband but Nathan’s never filled her like this. It’s almost as if she can’t breathe, the shock to her system too great. She wants to tell Elvis this, wants to tell him this is too much, she doesn’t know if she can handle this and all that comes out of her mouth is noises she’s never heard. Whimpers and whines as he pushes in slowly but surely, his grip on her never faltering, the reassurances never stopping. He’s got her. He’ll have her through all of this. He’s got her even as he bottoms out inside her, a growl of pleasure coming from deep within his chest. The hair on his stomach is against her backside, rubbing against her bare skin in a way that shouldn’t serve to heighten her pleasure and yet it’s all her mind can focus on- it’s the only thing that is bringing her back to the earth, back to the present moment. His thrusts are gentle… almost slow and inviting in the way he pulls out, the stretch of his cock erring just enough on the side of comfortable despite how she feels almost as if it’s catching on something inside of her but that can’t be true, Nathan’s never had that problem, why would Elvis be having it despite how he possesses more girth. 

Elvis wishes this was different, wishes he could have her against the sink with her facing him but that’s—this isn’t about what he wants and desires. This is about Lilly, isn’t it? This is about making sure she knows how someone in this world wants to treat her with the love and care he’s trying to treat her with. This is about making sure the pleasure she feels is almost too much, that it threatens to overwhelm her. This is about her and making sure she is happy and taken care of by him. His head had moved down, kissing at her neck, one hand trying to fondle her breasts while the other hand was resting firmly against her lower stomach, practically cradling where her uterus is—not that he realizes. He knows his body isn’t equipped to last too much longer, his age and everything slowing him down just that little bit and yet the slap of his stomach, the slap of his skin against Lilly’s has his thrusts getting stronger as she tries to thrust back, needy in ways that—from the sound of her sighs—she’s not used to. 

“More.” A sob she tries to choke back. “Please.”

The only thing he has to give her is his come, that’s all he has left from his thrusting, he can’t go any deeper, can’t stretch that little pink hole any more than it already is. He can’t give her anything else that isn’t already there as he hears the squelch between the two of them. Hears how his cock is welcomed by her body, how she’s wet and it’s only been made worse by his precum and he–he has to look up. He has to see the picture they make in the window if only for his own sanity, if only to perhaps settle his roaring mind. 

A second too late he realizes he shouldn’t have looked. A second too late he realizes that seeing the line of her throat as she leaned her head back against his shoulder in pleasure is too much. A second too late he feels his hips stutter as he feels himself coming, feels his come fill the spaces his cock isn’t filling inside of her, adding even more liquid between them and making the noises louder. Her mouth is open as she pants and as he’s looking in the window, watching as the rays from the sunset illuminate the pair of them in an almost heavenly glow, Lilly looks up and catches his eyes. 

Her eyes tighten just a bit as she realizes what’s happened, as she realizes he’s had his release. His hips aren’t moving as he pants behind her, trying to recuperate and trying to catch his breath. Her eyes tighten and her shoulders start to follow suit. This—this is something she knew, this is an outcome she knows. This is where Elvis pulls out of her and leaves her aching and wanting. This is where Elvis and Nathan are the exact same two men when it comes to her desires and needs. She can’t look, can’t watch as he pulls out of her and leaves her to be slumped over the kitchen sink. Minutes pass and yet he’s still inside of her, he’s still inside of her and she can feel half thrusts against her backside, his release and her arousal and whatever else squishing and squelching as he moves. Some trickles down her leg as she shivers in anticipation at what’s happening. There isn’t a reference point, she has nothing to compare this to and yet it feels so right. This feels how it’s supposed to be. 

Elvis can feel she hasn’t come, he knows—he may not know her body inside and out but he knows how women tick, he knows if he were to pull out of her he’d be no better than—he wouldn’t have done what he set out to do against this sink. It’s as if his body and his cock know this, too, and through a grace or an act of God he can feel himself firming back up the more he thrusts into her, the obscene noises between her legs spurring him on. Her gasp sounds like a plea and a hymn all in one. She hadn’t been prepared for this, he can tell in how her movements are scrambled as she starts to rock with him. Could it be that she was chasing after her release? Could it be that she just needed that extra push? He’s already in so deep and his thrusts are going deeper and deeper but the angle, the angle is all wrong. 

“Elv—” Lilly starts before he shushes her softly, his hand moving to between her legs as she keens softly. He doesn’t go where she feels he needs to, where she can feel her body throbbing and she needs him to understand that he’s missing it—he’s missing where she needs him to be but that’s when she hears it. 

He’s cooing, crooning, he’s talking so gently to her, praising her as she tries to stand on her toes, trying to change the angle. If only she was higher up. If only she could allow him even deeper, deep enough for him to be where she feels she needs him to be. A whine leaves her lips as his hand still doesn’t move to help and settles on her thigh, grabbing it and squeezing it as he lifts it up onto the counter gently as he can.

“Let Elvis take care of ya darlin'. You're feelin' something, ain't ya? Somethin' right there, right? You just need help with it, don't ya?” His words have the fire growing inside of her, have her whimpering and nodding because yes, yes, she feels something, she feels that there’s something there. What that is she doesn’t know, only knows that he’s giving it to her, he’s coaxing it from her as she feels him so deep inside she wonders how he fits.

Her hand moves down to between her legs, wanting to touch him, it, herself only to have his hand that had still been fondling her breasts, playing with her nipples to swat it away with a small tsk, “no, no, Lilly, let Elvis—let me take care of you the way you need. Do—can I touch you there? Help you rub yourself there?”

A groan, high pitched and almost anguished leaves her mouth as his fingers finally move between her legs, finally reach the part between her legs that throbs in time with her heart. The sob that escapes her mouth comes from deep within her, a release before he’s even properly touched her. He’s got her. Elvis has got her. He’ll take care of her. 

Elvis is taking care of her as his fingers, calluses and all, brush against her clit, slowly but with such intent that Lilly finds herself arching against Elvis, the strength of his body behind her making arching forward impossible. Her pussy clenches around Elvis’s cock, fluttering while still trying to milk him for all he’s worth. It’s hard to tell who’s making which noise as he thrusts into her, chasing his second release inside of her, never thinking of the lack of protection between them. His groans and her moans and their breaths are a symphony of sounds echoing through the kitchen, his glasses askew on his nose as he watches Lilly lean forward whining, almost as if she’s passing out. His own body follows hers, leaning against her, the sweat between them fusing them together as much as their come is. 

Their breath is the only sound in the room.

[imsailorpluto]

So I've finally finished Bloodhounds (+ ahjussi collection)

...and I have no idea where to start and what to say and how to feel.

No, wait, please hear me out.

It was b l o o d y and at parts a very difficult watch, as it has lots of explicit fighting scenes, which look extremely realistic and cruel. So cruel that I had to close my eyes and not watch, I even skipped many & i'm not sorry. However, there are also parts so heartwarming that it makes you forget about all the crimes and gore for a moment. So, it's up to you to decide if it's worth the struggle. Since the violence could be a bit too much for many, let's just say I do and don't recommend this one at the same time. Personally, one of things I greatly enjoyed is the subtle comic tone of Gun-woo's and Woo-jin's interactions with each other and their characters which represent people doing sports professionally so well, the purity of their hearts and lack of malice in everything they do, since they truly do live for the sports. Then there are two absolutely powerful and skillful young women, Hyeong-ju and Da-min, playing such important roles in the entire series, each of them individually contributing so much to the entire plan of bringing the bad guys down and saving what could still be saved. And also, one of the most enjoyable parts were definitely the bonds that came out of these newly formed friendships. Younger acting crew did an amazing job. In comparison to the older and experienced ahjussi crew (I'll get to them in a bit), they've got some serious talent. It must have been a huge undertake for both Woo Do-hwan and Lee Sang-yi to live up to the expectations of the entire team behind this drama. And they did it. They absolutelly slayed.

If you still haven't watched this drama, trust me when I say these two cinnamon rolls will instantly win your heart right at the beginning of the first episode. They're like the most perfect two besties you'd want to be besties with too. And yeah, you'll suffer thru all the horrors just to see them win the biggest battle of their lives. Gosh, every time I tried typing something coherent about them it just ended up being lots of crying shaking throwing up. They're the best, ok? And this is best I can do. ╥﹏╥

And while our marine boys scratched so many itches around this platform, I have to mention the absolute gentlemen that starred in this series and swept me off my feet *deepest sigh ever*

So many great actors took part in Bloodhounds, it's hard to believe my own eyes at times. Whoever was in charge of the casting did a killer job. I couldn't even take the bad guys seriously because they're freakishly handsome. Well, at least not until Kim Myung-gil brutally ended my favourite ahjussi trio damn you ep 6

What started as an obsession over two young marine guys and their bromance ended up as a hole in my heart over downfall of three middle aged criminals men and a will to trade all the money and gold bars for their lives. And more importantly, a huge appreciation for Korean actors over the age of 40.

No, let's be real. They're handsome and talented and great at their job and deserve all the love and support. With that in mind... here's a tiny screenshot dump because it would be a shame not to post it:

And I want to be normal about them and move on in peace but *internal screams* I've already mentioned Lee Hae-young in one of my earlier posts, addressing my obsession with the character he portrays, the sushi restaurant owner Hwang Yang-jung. And I know many people are obsessed with him too. But no one is speaking up. Which is silly. And tbh I really thought there would be more gifs of him and other men but...there's close to none? Can we talk about how fine this man is? How fine this whole ahjussi crew is? Can we... can we just acknowledge they sliced us all in tiniest pieces possible and burned us all till we turned into charcoal? Can we make a mess of kdrama side of tumblr by excessively posting about them? Pretty please?

It's true, I came for the boys, but stayed for these men. I'm not even joking when I say kdrama has me in a chokehold again, but this time for a whole new reason. Dropping everything just to watch series and movies these guys took part in sounds like the best idea at the moment. I even forgot about the new releases I started watching, which makes me laugh at myself, but... it is what it is. At some point, a girl just has to obsess over her favourite ahjussi, and that's okay.