#dori🌹

[many-but-one]

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I’ve forgotten if we’ve shared this poem before. We have so many and I know I haven’t shared many of my own. I feel like a lot of folks (especially hosts) with CDDs will relate to this one.

⚠️TW: repeating phrases, violence, SA (using the actual r-word), mild religious content, gore⚠️

walking freak show.

[many-but-one]

I’m going to add onto this OP, as I think I may have some good insight here, as someone who has had *really* shitty therapy treatment and is now seeing a therapist who has indeed asked me these questions. Initially I was also pretty exasperated with the question. How am I supposed to know what will work for me? I’ve been to therapist after therapist and only steadily gotten worse. I quit therapy altogether for years too, and that didn’t help either which means I also don’t know how to help myself. My initial answer to that question was “I don’t know.” And that’s a valid answer, that’s something the therapist will keep in mind.

To expand on what the first reblog said, therapists do this for a variety of reasons. Some people are super self aware and know exactly what didn’t work for them. I learned later I *also* knew what exactly didn’t work for me, I just didn’t know how to express it. I learned via therapy how to express what didn’t work for me before. I had chronic levels of severe anxiety and mindfulness and meditation was often suggested by previous therapists. Which might work for some patients who have anxiety! But when I tried it, it often made it so much worse. I felt TOO aware of myself, I felt like I had gone on “manual mode” and was experiencing the opposite of the chronic dissociation that had numbed me to most of the world. I felt like everything was too much, too loud, too colorful, too three-dimensional, and made my anxiety worse. I would often reach those points of extreme self awareness, have a panic attack, and then shut down instantly. I was getting worse doing things like that and didn’t know why. At the time, I didn’t know it was because I was so used to my life being a dissociative haze that suddenly being *actually present* was terrifying. The world was so brightly colored, my room looked actually dimensional, I could feel the softness of my blankets I was laying against with a fully present sense of touch and I wigged the fuck out. I didn’t even know what dissociation *was* at this time.

Then when I found that out, and I realized that the meditation and mindfulness exercises were helping me stop dissociating the world into a haze (which, as someone with a brain who has been doing this for my entire life, was a huge shock) I realized that I needed to work on proper grounding so I could actually experience the world outside of that haze. Things like mindfulness are actually beneficial to me now, though meditation still tends to make me dissociate worse, which is due to the fact that it often makes me/my DID system too aware of our own body which freaks us out. We still have a ways to go in terms of being okay with being fully aware of our body and the way it feels when meditating.

But if I had said that early on to my therapist, that things like mindfulness and meditation made me freak the fuck out because everything felt “too real” that could have opened a doorway to questions like “why does the world being too real scare you?” And could have helped me learn more about dissociation, and eventually helped me learn the coping skills I needed much sooner. And further, could have helped me learn that extreme chronic dissociation is often an indicator of traumatic events in the past and eventually helped me be diagnosed with DID much sooner than I was. While I do think the timing of my diagnosis was the best possible pacing I could have gotten at the time, I still wonder where I would be if I had been on the right track and being treated for my disorder much sooner. If I had an extra YEAR of therapy under my belt, I could be even more healed than I already am now.

Questions like what your therapist asked are not them trying to say “how do you think I should be treating your condition” or them trying to get you to do all the work for them, and if that’s the vibe you’re getting, then you are allowed to (and should) express that this is how the questions make you feel, so that they can reword and explain what they actually want from you. And if they genuinely are meaning it in a “how should I treat you for your condition” and trying to get you to do the work for them, then they might not be a good fit for you and you may need to keep looking for a better fit. But any therapist worth their salt isn’t actually leaning on the patient to teach them how to treat them, these questions serve as a “what didn’t work in the past and why didn’t it work?” And further, “What can we do differently to get you to a place where therapy actually *does* work for you?”

Additionally, just to add, therapy does require heavy lifting from the patient, too. Going to the office and expecting them to know everything about how to fix you is not the way to do therapy. I don’t know your circumstances nor if this is your viewpoint, by the way, I just say that because this is something a lot of people DO assume about therapy. The patient often has to do a lot more heavy lifting than the therapist does, the therapist is just there to give you tools to make the heavy lifting easier, until the lifting is not as difficult and you can move on to different things that will require different kinds of heavy lifting to accomplish. They are there to give you tools, and to help you sort your thoughts or process traumas, but everything that has to do with actually *healing* has to come from *you* and your willingness to use the tools they provide. And if the tools they provide don’t work (like how mindfulness or meditation didn’t work for me) you have to communicate that so they can look through their toolbox to see if there’s something else you can try. And if they don’t have any more tools you can try, then that means they aren’t at the necessary level of treatment you need and they can help you find a therapist that has more tools available to try.

Hope this helps, and I want to make it clear I’m not trying to say you aren’t valid for feeling angry about the situation you are in. If you’ve been mistreated by past therapists, it’s completely understandable that you would feel the way you do about those initial questions. But I do urge you to lower your hackles so to speak, and communicate what you want out of therapy. And if those questions upset you, to ask them to word them differently or explain what they mean by them. A therapeutic relationship, like any other relationship, requires communication. If something they say pisses you the fuck off, tell them! If they get offended, then hit the bricks. But more than likely, if they are a good therapist, they will appreciate your open communication and work with you to try and get to a place where that situation that made you angry can be mended.

Take care, OP! And good luck.

-Dori

It's one of my pet peeves when psychiatric people ask me "what do you think they should have done/what would you have wanted them to do?" when I'm explaining what kind of treatment or care didn't help me and didn't work. Like aren't you the fucking professional here?? Shouldn't you be the one to know your career field better than I do? One of us studied this stuff in university and it wasn't me. There's a pretty significant gap of expertise between being able to observe that something isn't working, and actually knowing the issue enough to know what should be done instead.

If I got a spontaneous brain aneurysm tomorrow and got rushed to the hospital, I don't think I'd be capable of advising the doctors on how to treat my condition better than what they learned in medical school. But I'm pretty sure I'd be able to tell that it would not be helpful to simply superglue my asshole shut.

[minminyoonjii]

Hiiiii. This is a request you don’t have to answer but I would like to know your thoughts on. I know you’ve done a few scenarios where ot8’s little gas a nightmare but what about the caregivers aka skz having a nightmare about their little ( ie like their little finding a better cg etc.) and how they would smother their little with affection and love and wouldn’t want to let them go after it.

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🧡Stray Kids Scenarios Masterlist

🌹CW

Wholesome Sleepy Boys|Hurt/Comfort|Domestic Settings|Fluffy|Soft Reassurance Fic|Crying|Panic Jolts|Tooth Rotting Sweet

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.4K

Bang Chan

Chan furrowed his eyebrows, tossing and turning in his sleep, "Don't take them," he mumbled, reaching out his hand. "Hah," Chan gasped, his eyes blown open but his mind was disoriented. He pushed himself out of his bed and stumbled his way towards your room. "Please be sleeping," he mumbled, hoping his dream was just a dream. Your soft snores instantly reassured him. Chan exhaled deeply, "Thank god," he whispered, walking towards your sleeping figure. You stirred awake, "Daddy?" you yawned, rubbing your eyes. "Shh, shh. Go back to sleep, little one. Daddy just needed to see you," he whispered, stroking your hair. You shifted aside, "Cuddle?" you asked, making grabby hands towards him. Chan chuckled, laying himself next to you as he pulled you close to his chest. The sound of your heartbeat against his body gave him a big relief. You figured out that something was wrong but it was too late in the night to think, "Daddy safe," you whispered, burrowing your face between his pecs. Chan chuckled, kissing your forehead, "Daddy's always safe when you're here, my sweet little one," he said, wrapping his legs around yours as you both drifted back to sleep.

Lee Minho

Minho groaned, clenching his hands into fists, "Get your hands off them," he grumbled in his sleep when Doongie swatted at his hand. "Ah?" he gasped, rubbing his eyes to see Doongie's dilated eyes. Minho chuckled, scratching under his neck, "You scared me, Doong Doong-ah. I almost decked you," he said, pampering kisses on Doongie's face. Minho pushed off his blanket and walked to your room, "Cupcake? Are you awake?" he whispered, moving closer to your bed. A subtle smile etched his lips at the sight of you snuggling Dori, "Can you come out?" he whispered, seeing Dori squirm. You shifted your position and eventually released Dori from your clutches. Minho chuckled and pulled you onto his lap. You stirred awake, "Hhgh," you whined, nuzzling closer into his chest. Minho buried his face into your hair, "Hah," he sighed, nosing your hair and face. You whined at his ministrations, glaring at him sleepily. Minho smirked, kissing your nose, "Go back to sleep, cupcake. Mama just needed you close," he whispered, rocking your body softly.

Seo Changbin

"Agi, please come back," he whimpered, dread filling his sleeping mind. Changbin jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. "Where's my agi? Uri agi," he slurred, wobbling to your room. Changbin swung open your door, flinching you awake. Your lips wobbled, hating the feeling of distortion. Changbin swooped you into his arm, "My agi," whispered, sniffling into your hair. Tears pooled up in your eyes, overwhelmed from being forced awake, "Baba," you hiccuped, gripping his tank top. Changbin bounced you in his arms, "Shh, shh, shh. Baba's here, agi. He's never letting you go even if you try," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. You sighed in relief, melting yourself within his arms. Changbin sniffled a weak smile, "Just the thought of losing you agi broke me to tears, he whimpered, pampering wet kisses all over your face. He exhaled a shaky sigh, "I'm never letting you out of my sight," he said, swaying with you cosy in his arms.

Hwang Hyunjin

"My head," Hyunjin groaned, sitting up with his eye mask. A brief moment of his nightmare flashed within his mind. "Love!" he exclaimed, ripping off his eye mask and sprinting towards your room. "Lovely?" he whispered, hearing your soft subtle snores. Your face was burrowed into Jiniret. The sight itself made his heart swell. "You're here," he whispered, sitting on the edge of your bed. Hyunjin ran his hand up your calves, "Pretty love. So so precious to me," he whispered, kissing the top of your palm. You whined in your sleep, jutting your lips into a sulky pout. Hyunjin chuckled, lying next to you. He gently took Jiniret from your hold and gently set him aside, "You don't need him for now. Papa's here," he whispered, pulling you closer to his chest. You snuggled against his warmth, a soft smile etched on your lips. Hyunjin leaned forward and kissed your forehead, "No nightmare will ever come between us, love," he whispered, drifting off to sleep.

Han Jisung

"Sweetheart, please. I can do better I promise," he begged, tears streaming down his cheeks as he tossed and turned from his nightmare. A broken sob escaped his lips as he flinched awake, "Sweetheart," he sobbed, getting up from his bed and towards your crib in his room. You blinked at him, sleep coating your eyelids. Jisung carried you up and cradled your body close, "You're okay, sweetheart. Appa just had a bad dream," he whispered after hearing your distressed whimper. Jisung carried you back to his bed, "You're sleeping with Appa tonight," he whispered, placing pillows on your side of the bed just in case you accidentally rolled off. You suckled your pacifier and stared up at him. Jisung cooed, patting your tummy, "Appa woke you up, huh? Look at your pretty eyes," he whispered, stroking your cheek. You nuzzled his palm, a yawn muffled around your pacifier. "You're right, sweetheart. We should go back to sleep," he whispered, shifting you on him. You laid your cheek on his chest, sleep coaxing you deeper and deeper. Jisung kissed your hair, "Sweet dreams," he whispered, sleeping right after.

Lee Felix

"No, no, no," Felix grunted, his hair matted with sweat. He jolted upright, "Hah, hah," he gasped, tossing off his comforter. He looked around, "My sunshine. I need my sunshine," he whimpered, standing up with wobbling knees. Felix sniffled, using the walls as support as he made his way to your room. "Sunshine," he whispered, seeing you sleeping peacefully. You lifted your head, eyes shut closed. Felix chuckled wetly, "It's just me, sunshine. Mommy's here," he whispered, sitting by your face. You nuzzled against his waist, relaxed after knowing who came in. Felix smiled, kissing your ear, "Sunshine, can I ask you something?" he asked, gently rubbing your ear. You nodded, sleep still coating your mind. Felix exhaled shaking, "Am I a good Mommy to you, sunshine? Have I ever made you sad?" he gulped, remembering the words you said in his dream before you left. You shook your head and wiggled yourself onto his lap, "No. You're the best Mommy. My only Mommy," you whispered, placing his hand on your head. Felix smiled, soft tears dripping down his cheeks, "Thank you, sunshine. I love you so so much," he sniffled, stroking your cheeks. You wrapped your arms around his waist, "Love love, Mommy more," you giggled, nuzzling his torso.

Kim Seungmin

"You're mine, munchkin. You think you can just leave?" he grumbled, clenching his jaw in his sleep. Seungmin's eyes blew open, hurt and anger simmered within his chest. "Munchkin," he whispered, getting off his bed and making a beeline towards your room. Seungmin opened your door, and your soft snores sent an odd conflict within his chest. "It's just a dream. They're still here. It's just a damn dream," he grunted, trying not to project his anger towards you. "Dada, don't go," you sniffled in your sleep, tears slowly drenched your pillow. Seungmin felt his heart clench, "Oh, oh no. Dada's here, munchkin," he whispered, brushing your hair back. You melted into his touch, his presence itself made you feel safe. Seungmin smiled, "Little munchkin thought about me too," he cooed, wiping your tears. He chuckled softly and lay next to you, "You can't live without me as much as I can't live without you," he whispered, cuddling you close.

Yang Jeongin

"I'm sorry, angel. I didn't mean to wash Foxi.ny," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he stirred awake. The guilt clenched his heart. "I have to see my little," he slurred, getting up from his bed. Jeongin stumbled his way into the hallway. "My poor angel. I shouldn't have washed Foxi.ny," he mumbled, not realizing it was just a very vivid dream. He opened your door and beelined towards your bed. Jeongin cupped your face and sniffled, "Ninnin's sorry, angel," he whimpered, waking you up. "Huh?" you whispered, squinting at him. "I'm sorry for washing Foxi.ny," Jeongin repeated, the sleepy guilt overwhelming his brain. You nuzzled his palm, "Foxi.ny is right here," you said, holding the familiar skzoo. Jeongin tilted his head, "Oh," he whispered, wiping the snot dripping down his nose. You giggled, and wiped his nose with a tissue, "Ninnin, huggies?" you asked, wanting to go back to sleep. Jeongin blinked, "Okay, angel. Yeah. Huggies," he whispered, pulling you onto his chest. You burrowed into his hold, "Night night, Ninnin," you yawned, snuggling close. Jeongin yawned back, "Good night, little angel," he whispered, drifting off.

[imasoftieforbarb]

If your taking requests could you do floyd x fem! Reader

From the time brozone was still a band. Y/n is Floyd's best friend, but they got married very young to eachother (y/n and Floyd also having kids if that's okay and if your uncomfortable with the married thing and the kid thing you can leave it out)

But Floyd just showing Branch old photo books and telling him and Poppy stories of how attracted Branch was to reader and treating her like a big sister. Even better if he still does

-🌹🌹

Floyd x Wife reader: FAMILY LIFE

The wedding was so sweet

He 100% cried

You both decided to get married after the band broke up- you’d been dating in secret so his brothers wouldn’t tear him- also because it might kill their image

You knew that you loved each other so you decided it didn’t matter if you got married young

I’d like to think he turned up at your pod on the night of the Brozone split up

A ring shakily held in his hand

Asks you to marry him and leave with him

You obviously agree- you end up getting married in Rock City (you also had your honeymoon there)

So all the photo books are full of your journeys

The first one Floyd showed Branch was full of your secret date photos

Your first date, you drinking a milkshake with two straws- the writing on the bottom of that photo says

“I thought we were gonna share- but she wanted to prove herself worthy”

That was obviously written by Floyd

One of branch’s favorites is a photo in a selfie style that showed Floyd smiling at you who was resting on his shoulder and branch asleep in your arms

The note on the bottom of that one simply says “our first ‘I love you’s’ in his handwriting with a heart drawn by you

There’s alot of photos of you that Floyd took of you and Branch

“She was there for my first steps?”

“Yeah, John Dory was so jealous when you walked to her not him”

The second one documents your engagement journey

Campfire photos, photos of you pranking each-other

Floyd points out his favorite which is you asleep on a camping bed in the middle of a lake

The writing was in your handwriting this time and simply said “watch your back Angel”

The third is full of wedding photos

These were professional photos- it was a really small wedding but you and Floyd agreed you wanted to do it sooner rather than later

He’s got another photo book that’s just full of wallet sized photos (he couldn’t decide which one was his favorite)

[srbachchan]

DAY 5897

Jalsa, Mumbai Apr 10/11, 2024 Wed/Thu 12:54 AM

Ramzan Id/ Eid ul Fitar greetings

🌹

🪔 ,

April 11 .. birthday greetings to Ef Lyudmila RF Zueva .. and Ef Heena Maru .. 🙏🏻🚩 .. and may all the best be reserved for you .. love from the Ef's .. ❤️

An extended work out .. repeats, increases of weights , greater time walkabouts .. free arm and the physio to pull the body parts in all conceivable directions ..😁 .. hot showers, the IPL game , when the results are reaching tantalising ends .. and then ..

The mystery of the World Wars .. the building of the armouries .. the mindset of those that work to protect and fight .. the psychological studies of them that initiate such ..

Fascinating .. scary ..

Were then .. am now .. shall be later ..

And life shall move on .. the fears of the past remain fogged and buried .. for the todays, evident and present .. for the tomorrow, the anxiety for the progeny that shall face it .. in time ..

aaahhhhh .. too much philosophy .. this GEN Z shall have none of it .. for them .. Doris Day .. and 🎶 .. and 'que sera sera , whatever will be be will be .. the future's not ours to see .. QUE SERA SERA .. but the song shall ever remain a ???? question mark for the them of today ..

BUT ..

.. how time has kept us all in tune and line .. 1957 Sherwood , Nainital, School Play, Nikolai Gogol's 'The Government Inspector' , Danny Kaye the phenomenal talent, playing the Inspector .. and I use it on stage in Milman Hall for the Annual Concert, where I play the Mayor .. and during a rehearsal, class mate Chris Borthwick, who plays the Inspector suggests the famous line to be spoken at a particular scene - impromptu .. and the entire Hall comes down .. it was the most popular song of the World .. and gives me my best actor Cup - the Kendall Cup .. Geoffrey Kendall, who built the drama Company Shakespeareana, travelling all over the World with it .. came to put up the plays of Shakespeare in School .. asked me to play a part on one such day .. I did not coz' was prepping for my Finals Senior Cambridge Exam .. John Kurrien, classmate did it .. Shashi Kapoor married his daughter - Jennifer - who acted on stage with her Father, and where and when Shashi ji met her ..

GEN Z .. 🥹 !!

Alright then .. its 😴

Amitabh Bachchan

[jade-green-butterfly]

'Stars In His Eyes~'🌌(💚John Dory x Amalthea🪐)

As promised in my recent post -> https://www.tumblr.com/jade-green-butterfly/739625758724685824/got-some-more-johnalthea-jd-x-amalthea-my-space?source=share I finally get the chance to share more goodness of my newest Trolls ship, John Dory x my Space Troll OC, Amalthea and...~ 👀👀👀 BEHOOOOLD~!! 😍🌟😍🌟😍

Done by the sweet and epic @fernistired~💕🌿

Done by the lovely and amazing @jaguardorado16~✨🔥 The true magnificent beauties of two stunning masterpieces you see before you~!!💖🤩💖🤩💖

They're both just so, so gorgeous - I could cry!!😭😭😭 I am absolutely love, love, LOVING them both to the stars and back~!!🥰🥹🌠🥹🥰

Speaking of stars, both commissions of this tenderly romantic scene were actually inspired by the famous Aristocats' sapphire eyes scene and a romantically exciting RP me and my dear bestie, @x-elyssa-x are doing of how JD and Amalthea met in an explorer AU - where Amalthea is experiencing life in Troll Kingdom for the very first time after travelling from her Space Kingdom, finds herself in Troll Village during a huge storm and is taken in by Grandma Rosiepuff (yes, she is alive and well in this AU, along with BroZone still together, yet living their own lives but still visit their dear grandma~😌) Amalthea and John's relationship begins to grow over time and JD, feeling love, finally plucks up the courage to propose to Amalthea, which she happily accepts, for she really loves him back for who he is~💚😊The two of them then travel with Rhonda, back to Space Kingdom so John can experience life there, just like Ama did in his kingdom✨ Hope you all like, my lovelies!👍🏻😁💞And a MASSIVE thank-you in a million to my awesome Fern and Jaguar for these wonderful treasures - you have both done such a fantastic job and I am ever soooo happy, over the moon and grateful for them both~!💝🫂🌟🫂💝Bless you both, my dears~!🌹😘💕🫶🏻xoxo.

*~Reblogs are also deeply appreciated as well, so please do reblog as well as like! Thank-you kindly!~*

Space Trolls (c) @x-elyssa-x~💜 Amalthea (c) @jade-green-butterfly (Me~!) John Dory (c) DreamWorks Trolls/DreamWorks Animation

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Elizabeth Taylor 🦋🧚🏼‍♀️🚬💊💟👩🏻🐠🌹🥀🍿🥃🌟✨️💄♓️

,Elizabeth was one and breathtaking beauty, for many years she got married very young to get away from under her mother’s clothes and to be a free woman but this to her demise led to even worse behavior by her first husband Conrad Murray who was allegedly very abusive to her.

she admits that she was probably addicted to marriage, I think back then a lot of people married many times because you did it out of love if you were gonna be with someone you had to marry them especially in the early ages of the golden era of Hollywood the 1920s to the mid 1960s, her true love though were Mike Todd and Richard Burton Todd however died in an airplane accident in on the one night they spent away from each other on his aeroplane which he called the lucky Liz. unfortunately it wasn't so lucky she said there were the two great loves of her life so much so that she married Richard Barton twice.

many women would make fun of her I think they were a little jealous and she came off as a certain way and they looked at her with a certain demise and being easy I suppose and if she turned down roles it makes you wonder and think about what she really did because that was unheard of back then how close were her family with Hollywood producers and such was she abused like Marilyn,, it doesn’t strike me as you say but then you gotta think of this. Did the women like Marilyn because she was vulnerable and dislike Liz because she wasn’t as vulnerable my mom said that as a straight woman. That Marilyn has just got the factor I love her don't get me wrong but I love them both.

.,,However often left innocent third parties under the bus in shocking ways so who were these old Hollywood actresses infamous for sleeping around join us as we take a deep dive into these famous actresses their raunchy ways and the often damaging aftermath of their actions., Elizabeth Taylor possibly the most famous name on this list Elizabeth Taylor claimed the love of fans around the world with her unique beauty and dramatic talent not only that she was also known for being one of the most notorious seductresses in Hollywood she claimed her most scandalous prize when she fraternized with singer actor Eddie Fisher what was most controversial was Fisher was then married to Taylor’s best friend.. Debbie Reynolds but it turned out to not just be a one off hookup as Taylor and Fisher later wed but ultimately divorced Taylor apologized to Reynolds years later and the two once again became friends Taylor had seven husbands throughout her life but married who she believed to be the love of her life actor Richard Burton twice after her final divorce in 1996 to construction worker Larry fortensky. Taylor claimed to have had enough of men and remained single until her death in 2011,,.. Diana doors English singer and actress Diana doors first came to public notice as a blonde bombshell much in the style of Marilyn Monroe she made tabloid headlines with the parties reportedly held at her house later she showed a genuine talent as a performer on TV and gained new public popularity as a regular chat show guest.. with her ostentatious mansion kitchy decadence and debauched parties Doris was the definition of notorious she married three times had numerous lovers and was even called a wayward Hussey by the Archbishop of Canterbury it wasn’t just her roles and low budget films she was famous for but filming people having sex in her house doris’s guest would watch grainy footage, of an unsuspecting couple who had chosen to cavort in one of the dimly lit upstairs bedrooms.

[silentdivasblog]

Lady of The Day 🌹 Doris Dawson ❤️

[aconflagrationofmyown]

K-Rations: make me know it, go ahead and show it

a Sarge and lil Mama fic, the long anticipated sequel to D-Rations

The sequel to D-Rations: or the one where Elaine realizes she’s in love with her husband and takes measures to make certain no such silliness as the miscommunication in the last chapter will ever come between them again

Warnings: 18+ smut, free use, adoring objectification of a husband??, overstimulation, lactation kink, slight sub space (male), angry makeup sex, cum feeding, communication issues and LOVE

Coauthored with the inimitable @prompted-wordsmith who’s initial prompt for this months ago launched a thousand ships 💋

Elvis had a very clear memory of being fifteen years old and dragging his heels every inch of the mile and a quarter from school to home one overcast day. Scuffing and meandering his way back to his family’s apartment in the Courts and dawdling on the steps outside, flirtin’ with the girls and begging his cousin Gene to get him a glass of water from inside.

“Get it yourself.” Gene had grumbled, till he caught sight of the shiner underscoring the swelling below one of Elvis’ blazing azure eyes.

Gene was a good fella and got that glass of water for him and brought it to him from the Smithe’s upstairs apartment and thusly Elvis had bought about forty five minutes of extra time before Gladys came out and caught sight of the damage done to her son’s face.

It was hard, Elvis thought then, balancing his understanding of his mama’s dread of any harm coming to him with the very dire need to exert himself or else get run over entirely in the harsh crucible of high school.

He’d been punched, and so he punched right back. And tomorrow would be better for it, ugly bruise marring his face, nonetheless. It was the sort of taking care of business womenfolk just couldn’t quite grasp, and he had felt some fiery exasperation that any reasoning was owed them at all for how a man conducted himself outside the female domain. It wasn’t them getting punched, was it? So why should they object if he punched and got punched? Just a fella taking care of business, best he knew how.

Elvis chafed under the nagging familiarity that trudging home to Elaine this fine European evening brought to mind. He thought of trudging home to mama. No shiner this time, just an arm still warm from being hung on by other women and half-baked good intentions he had no idea how to make her understand.

The cobblestone blocks home from the corner diner had never seemed so short and the crowd of fans to impede him so thin. He oughta be rushing home and assuring Elaine that he missed her and that he was just bein’ gentlemanly and givin’ her a lil breather after all the use he put her to since she got over here. But none of that explained the reason she fled as soon as she caught sight of him—or so Rex had told him. Told him she bolted right away. Elvis had never seen Elaine bolt, and just last week he’d seen her hold her ground like never before with those two harlots, Susan and Doris.

It gave Elvis a horrid, queer sorta feeling it had to do with the waitresses that he’d gotten a lil friendly with. Elaine had never minded before but now felt different and like he was in the wrong somehow. He just didn’t know how and before long he’d be at the front gates and he oughta be delighted he was almost home after such a long day. It’s all he wanted, to go home and be with his little family.

Really, he swore it was, so much so he was heartsick with it. And yet he dawdled like a naughty child outside the perimeter of his own fence, half expecting Elaine to embody Mama, to come out from their Bavarian style home wielding a broom handle and switch his backside for bad behavior, crowd of fans be damned.

He really got a little sick at the way his pulse thumped at that thought and his blood ran south in hardening interest. Wasn’t that the reason for this whole little snafu? The fact he couldn’t think of Elaine in any capacity without wanting her and taking her and wanting and taking and over and over again it went.

Bruised petals and dusty window sills.

What if she’s done with me?—he thought suddenly in a panic—what if she’s done and I blew my last chance to make her love me? They’d gotten into such a nice little patch of domesticity since she’d been here, withdrawals and torrid sex and diaper laden trash cans not withstanding… or maybe that was all crucial to it. He’d felt at home and he felt like she had begun to really feel that way with him and just last week he’d finally heard her lay claim to him. It made him want to dance around like a child and wring his cock out like a teenager. He’d done the latter, then fled from her for days, afraid of how much he was feeling, afraid to ask if she was finally feeling it too.

He’d started leaving a bit early, mumbled excuses of “Don’wanna be late, Laney baby, y’know how rowdy them German girls can get outside,'' hopping into the car quickly so she might not notice how he’d gotten a little wide-eyed and weepy down below at watching her in her apron and heels swish around the kitchen. Elvis had taken up invitations to dinner he’d normally scoff at with the boys, he’d started doing more PT to “get back in shape, gotta make sure I’m right fit to run after the new babes, reckon they’re gonna be trouble wit’ a capital T, Tink,” to explain away the bags under his eyes. Didn’t matter that none of their babies were running much of anywhere. Elvis was certain she didn’t deserve the truth, the truth that he was wringing himself dry in the empty showers on base after sweating and huffing out all the energy he couldn’t put to use on her. That was just it, wasn’t it: he had used her, for his own selfish problems he’d gotten into himself, and now he had to rectify that.

Only now, now he was sure that had been the worst thing he could’ve done. That there was yet another mistake somewhere in there he needed to fix. He imagined her coming and and whooping him, but as the door remained shut and the fans dispersed his stomach felt like lead as he imagined her giving him a haughty silent treatment, one he’d never experienced from her but imagined she’d be damned good at from the way she handled their daddies’ bickering. He wouldn’t be able to handle her mask of politeness towards him, all the while she was probably packing a bag and deciding she was finished with him. And oh, God above!

The very notion of that scenario set him ablaze with ferocity and actually quickened his steps as if he was jogging headlong into the house to dissuade his wife from up and leaving him after their first arguem—no. They hadn’t even had an argument or anything, he realized numbly. They actually hadn’t been talking much. Not this last week. Not with all his early mornings and extra time on base and piddling around town—

He wrenched his key into the lock, already angry at her for something she hadn’t done (it was easier than being angry at himself and more commanding than turning into a blubbering idiot begging her to stay) and threw open the door of his house, ready to have it out. Put her over his knee, remind her she could never take his babies away from him, threaten her with the law. Maybe manage to say he was sorry somewhere in there, too.

Fried chicken. That’s what struck him first, the smell of genuine lard baptized breading wrapped around tender white meat. His knees knocked together at the sentimental potency of it. Every surface in sight was damn near sparkling, and he almost felt guilty for putting his shoes on the doormat.

Silence. That hit next. No babble of babies or the radio, no laughter from Dodger and Elaine gossiping to the staccato chop chop chop of something fresh they were gonna force him to eat. Quiet, except for the click of the stove element coming on and off. It was a clear shot from the front door through to the sitting area and onto the long kitchen and dining room that ran along the back of the house, he could see the whole empty space of it and yet through that panic inducing emptiness he noticed the steam rising from one of the pans. She’d never be so foolish as to leave the stove on while leaving the house. Not unless she was madder than he anticipated and wanted to burn their home down.

He shook his shoulders out at the admiring terror that zapped through him with that thought and gingerly undid his uniform coat. Pegs, his little wife had pegs by the door and there, hung in a row, was the mink coat he’d bought her from a magazine while separated, then there was Jesse’s little coat and Ella’s white one with the pink trim. He turned towards them and hung up his military jacket beside her mink. Mommy and daddy and baby and baby number two’s, all in a row.

There’d be two more before next Christmas, god help them.

Elaine’s voice ringing bright and clear right behind him and just at his ear level, spooked him terribly bad outta his domestic reverie,

“Oh excellent,” she drawled as she observed with cool detachment as he clutched the back of his head that had knocked against a peg in his flail, “Perfect timing, dinner’ll be ready in about an hour or so,”

She informed him of this cheerily. As if he hadn’t been coming home too late for dinner or ought else this past week and hope flared in his heart till she reached out and gripped his army green tie, untucking it from between the buttons, and Elvis would deny the little shudder that went through him at the way the fabric slid past his chest. He didn’t have much time to think on it, anyway, as Elaine started to haul him bodily forward towards the sitting area, using all the strength she had amassed by carrying their children and their carriers and their luggage and their hampers about, using it all against him. “In the meantime,” she went on and he found himself tripping over his boots to keep up and watching the curls at the back of her head bounce, “I find myself in need of my husband’s services.”

Services? His brain doesn't reckon much more than the wonderful happening of being hauled around by his tie like a hound on a leash and the smell of that southern cookin’ in the kitchen. There’s a chaise lounge under the front window in the sitting area to the right of the door and it looks like she’s towing him there and while his brain tries to reconcile her kind tone with her rough hands, his cock certainly picks up on the subtext undergirding the notion of services. He’s afraid he hears himself whine at the tug on his neck and when she throttles him and spins him and drags him to sit down on the chaise his mind has gone fuzzy, he’s so utterly knocked off his moorings. Knocked off his feet, too, in a turn of events—only it’s not a turn, is it, really? When he’d first begged to make her his wife he’d gotten on his knees then, too, and suddenly that whole scene is put into a more lecherous context that only makes his head spin more, makes him slump, limp-limbed, onto the cushions. Services.

“Dinner smells great, Laney,” he began to defend himself, pacify her or just blurt out any ole thing that’ll get him off the hook, out of the cloud in his head. But she gripped his face instead, fingers digging into his cheeks and with a rush of relief he understood that this face looking down on him wasn’t the face of a woman done with him—she was furious, rather.

Furious meant she cared. Furious resembled mama. Mama had cared so damn much, no one had come close until this blazing eyed goddess slapped his face and shook him by his jaw while seething,

“You’re my goddamn husband, Elvis!” shake shake shake, his head knocked back with the vehemence of her passion, cover falling to the cushions and then the floor as he was forced to lay back into his seat with her vehemence, cheek smarting. His heart was soothed by it even as his hair fell into his eyes and his jaw ached, “You aren’t some hunk of meat that other gals get to paw at and lay claim to while you leave me without so much as a word in the mornings or a prayer at night! You hear me?”

She still hadn’t let go of his tie with her other hand. It was strangling him most pleasantly, starched collar chafing, and his voice was wrecked when he tried to agree, “Yes, yes’m I-I-I know…” through the squish of his forcefully pouted lips. He knew and he was aware now where he had gone wrong, though he wondered at her missing him at all, wasn’t everyone eager to get a breather from his presence?

“Haven't I been accommodatin’?” she begged instead and sounded so very hurt even as she drew him out of his pressed slacks with a stern hand, slacks she’d ironed patiently the night before—hard as rock and gushing appreciatively already. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, fumbling for some sort of grip on the edge of the chaise. It seemed almost blasphemous to touch her right now. She’s all a mix of vulnerable and ruthless this evening and his heart pounds in his ears at the sight of this side of her again, a righteous goddess. Unleashed on him, this time. Just as he’d fantasized about a week ago while helping himself with his own fist.

“Yes yes always, baby, always so damn selfless, I had to get away. Had to pace myself.” he swore in a rush, suddenly needing her to understand the devotion welling up in his chest as she paused for the briefest moment in shuffling her crinoline aside.

He watched as Elaine’s eyebrow quirked in comprehension, the angry set of her mouth gentling before her body sprang back into action and she dropped down on him with groan-inducing entitlement. He wheezed, realizing there was no cotton chafing at little Elvis—Elaine wasn’t wearing panties.

“That’s why you're bein’ so cold?” she beat on his chest as she began to rock on him and all too late he really believed that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. “You got time for buddies and waitresses but you won’t so much as touch me these last few days. Why? Why?” Her pretty face was twisted into a snarl.

The grip on his tie got mortally tight with each demand as did her pussy around him and he found he was going very fuzzy and he’d like to explain, tried to through a series of whimpers comprising her name and apologies of various coherence. She began to ride him with all the ferocity of a woman, a wife scorned, her own eyes boring into his. It’s all too much, too quick, the furniture creaking below them as he thrusts his hips up into her, meeting her every swivel and grind. Home, he’s home, and his body melts at that comfort, he was already leaking, can hear the squelching as he’s fucked on this proper chaise, her skirts still pressed and curls perfectly pinned, her chest constrained in her bodice. There’s nothing visual for him to latch onto, aside from that fiery stare. It’s as if he’s just there for her, and a whine escapes him as he realizes he’s being used. A whimpering apology of, “‘M sorry baby, ‘m sorry Laney!” falling from his lips, still held captive in her hands.

“Sorry?” Elaine hisses, all flashing teeth and taunting sneer, “I don’t want you just sorry, I want what’s mine, I want you to want me again! I don’t reckon you’re sorry enough, not with the way you seem too distracted by passing floozies in waitress uniforms to come home to us.”

“I am home!” And his own verbal dam breaks since that first time he saw that side of her, right on this very chaise, “Jesus, lil mama, only you get me, only you—’m yours, darlin’, I love you, love ya, won’t let them get handsy no more—Satnin’, my Satnin!”

And that last endearment is what gives Elaine pause, makes her realize that Elvis… her husband…really does love her. This is the first time he’s used that sacred name for anyone else since Lovie—Miss Gladys—died, God rest her soul. She’s in a league of her own in his mind, up there with the angels and the heavenly host. Now Elaine’s numbered among them. She can’t help the clench of her little house, the gasp she lets out, squeezing at Elvis’, her husband’s, her husband who loves her’s, key. She attacks him with little kisses, all over his dreamy, pretty, infuriating face. She leaves little smudges of her lipstick that make something in her chest, that had been wound tight over this whole neglectful business, unwind ever so slightly.

Elvis gasps out as she flutters over his face, dotting him with her adoration and he—he jus’—he can’t hold it in no more. His relief started in the eyes and sizzled down his spine, he started to cum, head tilting back, tears languishing his lash line as he was wrung dry by her yittle cunt.

“No more, no more, I swear!” he promised good behavior and begged for a reprieve from the bouncing clench of her all at once. He reached out with grabby hands, trying to maybe pull her off, pull her up his chest so he might use his mouth—but he was unceremoniously slapped away. She didn’t stop her bouncing, caring not a whit as he whimpered and gasped and twisted his hands into the poor chaise cushions, the same cushions he’d seen her be just as mean to those nasty women on.

“No,” Elaine said, staring down at him with stern good humor as if he was a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “No, Naughty, you’re gonna sit there all nice and pretty, my own pretty soldier boy, for me, baby. And you’re gonna let me use you, this time.”

Oh, oh Lordy she was a vision as she clenched around his soft cock, lil hole hungry as she worked those thighs he knew were under her dress. Only he couldn’t see, and that extra layer of, of decency when he was being so thoroughly disregarded as anything other than a part of the furniture made something in him drift away. He felt hazy all over, breaths shallow little pants through his mouth, tiny whimpers the only thing he could manage through the tie, the hand on his face, and the feeling of—

“‘M sorry, s’sor-ry, ah! ‘M yours, ‘m yours!” As he felt himself starting to chub up within her. It was agonizing, made him writhe, turn his head away and sob because she wasn’t stopping.

“We share everythin’, Elvis!” she insisted, some portion of this hurt forming in her conciseness, punctuated by her loneliness and isolation, the amount of friendship and companionship she had given up for him.

A faint sheen of sweat painted Elaine’s temples as she did all the work, using the hand on his face to plant on his shoulder for leverage, just as he taught her that first night. Just thinking about it, thinking of how she’d babbled praises at him then—he became fully hard again soon enough, body betraying him, responding to the wet softness surrounding his cock. Even that least clever part of him knew when he was home. He was jerked like a stallion by his reins to look at her again, look at how she’d used the other hand, now, to bury under her dress and play with her lil button. She clenched like a fury around him, staring right into Elvis’ eyes as she ground down, hard, and came herself all over his dress pants and cock, squeezing him raw.

He couldn’t help the extra babble of, “p’ease, mama, p’ease, n’more!”

“You sit there like a good boy, E, you sit there and be good,” Elaine was panting to him, only he was sure that he couldn’t, he wasn’t good, was he? Not after the way she’d slapped him, didn’t deserve her soft praise, he had been bad, so bad—

“‘M not good! S’s-sorry, ‘m not…!” He bucked his hips up into her, wiggling, trying to get her off of him, only Elaine was an experienced rider and remained unphased by his squirming. She was used to wiggly little boys, Jesse being much the same as his father.

“You can be a good boy, baby, you can,” and she was being so mean, so mean, even as she pet at his cheek and neck, smearing slick onto his pulse, using one curled finger to tip his head back and admire the long line of his shining throat and cooed at him. “You jus’ gotta take it, baby.”

“No! No-no-n-no!” Elvis whined, trying again to arrest her movement, stop her working thighs as he felt himself teeter close to that edge again, the sloppy slick-slap as she resumed her pace and slammed down onto his hips, circling her own, driving him into full on crying. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the repetitive swallows as he tried to stop himself from drooling. Tears glittered on his cheeks but all Elaine did was kiss them away, kiss at his slack mouth as he wailed.

“You can yowl like a feral tomcat all ya want, Naughty, you’re not goin’ nowhere,” Elaine panted, picking up her pace again, using one hand to wrench into his hair, sweat-damp and mussed. Elvis came again just as she ground against him harshly, the pain in his scalp triggering his pleasure.

He lost a little time, coming to only to sniffle as he was fed her fingers, sticky with her cum, with his cum that had leaked out around where they were joined, the sharp-salty tang, still trapped under her in the best and worst way.

“You’re mine, Elvis,” Elaine stated then, sitting primly still on his lap, “Before God almighty above, you’re mine first and foremost.”

He nodded, cried out, “Yes, yes’m, yes m-mama, thank you,” like he was taught, the polite little gentleman, grateful for the respite even if she was still keeping him inside her. He could feel the wet stickiness on his trousers, getting a little uncomfortable but not daring to squirm, lest her mercy not last. “I don’t want any more of this abstinence nonsense. I don’t want you running off with some German trollops while you neglect your wife, ya hearin’ me, husband?” Elaine decreed.

“‘M sorry,” Elvis breathed out, reaching for her waist again cautiously. She allowed his hands to settle on her tummy, to palm the growing bump there. She pulled him up by the tie, cradling his head to her bosom, and he nosed at her pretty tits within her dress subconsciously. He—he didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted, not when he felt so small. Was it allowed? Did he do good enough?

“You want somethin’, daddy?” Elaine hummed, and he shuddered at the gentle tone and the scritch of her perfectly manicured nails through his hair and down the back of his neck. They dipped beneath his shirt collar, teased at the knob of his spine.

“I don’—don’ deserve it,” he confessed, coming out of his hiding spot under her chin to look up at her through his lashes, tear-spiked and trembling. “I’ve—been bad.”

“Shh,” Elaine simpered, unbuttoning her house dress and letting the front placard fall, her breasts already leaking from her exertions as she then drew him in, one hand on the back of his head and the other still ever-present on his tie. “You’ve been good to me now, haven’t you, Elvie-baby? We understandin’ each other thorough, now?” She tilted his chin up, tone becoming uncompromising at the last question. He was quick to nod, panting again, sticky trousers forgotten in the face of lip-licking longing.

“I need your words, honey,” Elaine called, drawing his attention back to her pretty face.

“Yes’m, mama, been good, I’ll—I’ll be s’good, for you,” Elvis said, chin quivering, looking bout ready to burst back into tears, face smeared with Elaine’s lipstick and the subtle shine of salt—the evidence of this long-winded kiss and make up.

“Perfect, perfect man.” Elaine murmured, pulling him back, and Elvis immediately latched on, moaning into her nipple as milk gushed into his mouth, dribbled down his chin, getting caught on his tight shirt collar. His lashes tickled her, a little “Hoo—ah!” from the voracious suction of his mouth, so much stronger than her babies’.

“There you go, there’s my pretty husband. My husband, my messy boy,” she crooned into his hair, biting her lip as she clenched around his still-soft member within her. She was sore, hadn’t taken her husband in days because of his own self-sacrificing tendencies, as she understood it, and was revelling now in the openness, the squelch of his seed spilling out of her. She pulled at Elvis’ hair, guiding him to the other nipple, him seemingly not noticing her start to rock gently on him yet again, feeling the slow-building heat come back to her belly. It was nice, this soft, squishy thing inside her—a chastened lil Elvis that soothed the ache while bringing her closer to the edge.

“Shh, baby,” she panted, starting to rock in earnest as she felt him come to life under her, jerking up, wringing at the pooling fabric of her skirt around her hips. He mewled against her breast, no longer really suckling, just open-mouthed smears of what might be kisses as he was so cruelly put to service yet again. Only this time it was better, because the milk smearing his face was hers, the shade of red she wore smudged down his cheekbones, paving the way for the two new twin tracks of tears as she started bouncing in earnest. He made only small little sounds, nuzzling into her like a kitten, bucking up as if he couldn’t help the movement despite the way it made his pretty face twist into pleasure-pain agony.

“One more,” Elaine decided, allowing herself to be greedy as she looked at the clock on the mantlepiece, “You give me one more now, my good boy, my husband, you give me one more spurt from that pretty cock and then I’ll feed ya, feed you up with a good m-meal, hmm? How does that s—ah!—sound?”

“Ma…ma,” was the only response she got, slurred from plump, shiny red lips, like the sweet cherries she might find in the summertime back in Memphis. His head lolled back, the only thing keeping him semi-upright the ironclad grip she had on his tie still. Couldn’t stop herself from kissing him, then, licking into his mouth and tasting her own milk. It was a heady feeling, made her thrust down harder, wanting to leave bruises on his pelvis like he did with her hips. It made all her worries disappear, seeing Elvis like this, so relaxed and accommodating, letting her use him up until he was dry and weeping, looking for all the world like a little boy—her little boy.

“Downright angelic,” Elaine gasped, admiring the cut of his cheekbones, the deepening of his flush, if that was possible, as he arched his back and met her downward bounce with a buck up. Wiggly as always. She unbuttoned the bottom of his own shirt, rucking up his undershirt, too, until she could see his own nipples—and she pinched them like he did hers, which made him let loose a whimpering cry and finally jerk hard enough to get her to release his tie for fear of truly choking him. He pulsed within her, hands clenching in a grip round her swollen waist as he gracelessly shoved up into her, once, twice, and she tipped over the edge from his vigor and the picture he made—

His jaw sharp as glass, smeared with her own slick and the white of his cum from when she’d fed him their combined releases, along with the milky cream of her breastmilk. Her lipstick prints nigh on disappeared into the decadently red blush that painted him all the way down to his heaving belly, interrupted by the scrunch of his undershirt at his collarbones and the still-buttoned dress shirt collar, the tie that was so useful flipped up and over his shoulder. His chest, his pecs so nicely defined, topped by frankly temptingly perked nipples. Those pretty blue eyes were neon-bright against the contrast of his flushed face, slack lipped and drooling. He stared at her as if she was something to be worshiped. This—this was hers, her Elvis. Only she would ever get to see this pretty picture, Elaine swore to herself, petting at his chest, flicking at one berry-bright areola. He barely twitched under her, gone quiet and pliant in a way that would worry her if he didn’t look so utterly blissed out. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was on some of them pharmaceuticals, by the glaze in his blown-pupiled eyes.

“Elvis, you with me, baby?” Elaine called, taking his chin in hand. His neck was limp, and all she got at first was an utterly drunken smile up at her, open-mouthed and guileless. It made her want to cradle him back to her chest, protect the utter innocence he exuded as he asked,

“Y’s’m?”

“Hey there, pretty boy.” She wasn’t quite sure where this all had come from, maybe some part of her recognizing the way he’d shuddered on their wedding night at her gentle attentions. Watching him fight and fight and fight his impulse to let himself be taken care of -the forcefully surrendering way he took care of her- took care of her babies, their friends, his fans, the whole goddamn world seemingly needing a piece or a part of him.

Well, he was wrung dry here and now on her chaise lounge, nothing more to give and she petted the tear wet cheek she had so vehemently slapped. This is what she could give him, she could give him a moment of weakness, everyone needs it from time to time. But, still—this had been a lot, and while she was doing mighty fine herself, Elvis was barely coherent and it worried her.

“You ready for some chicken, baby? I made some good, country fried chicken, jus’ for you, been so good for me,” Elaine let herself babble a soft stream of praises and thoughts, gently prying Elvis’ hands off her hips, holding them in one hand to kiss them before she used the other to leverage herself up and off of his soft cock, a wet gush of their combined fluids absolutely soaking him as she did. Another set of words welled up in her throat, three words that she wanted to say to him. But not right now. Not now, but soon.

“Yes’m,” he said, demurely staring up at her as she stood on wobbly feet, crinoline crinkling as she smoothed it out. Elaine was careful to keep one of her hands in his, because she had the feeling that this was not the time to deprive him of contact. Not the time to do anything but be gentle, to assure and coddle.

“You and I are gonna go clean up,” she said, taking another glance at the clock to make sure that yes, she could leave the chicken on its lonesome for a good thirty minutes so she and him could wash up. “C’mon, we made ya so messy, you’re real messy right now, honey.”

“‘M a messy boy,” Elvis giggled, beaming up at her, following her tug like a fawn—all too-long, elegant limbs, and big, shiny eyes. She led him up the stairs, his trousers undone and smeared all down the crotch to his knees with their mess, their hands clutched together as if they’d get lost without some sort of tether. And, as she guided him into the bathroom, gently tugging off his boots and then his pants, his dress shirt and then his undershirt, she had the sneaking suspicion he might just manage to wander somewhere if she wasn’t careful.

She briefly thought of the bath, but no, a washcloth would have to do—the chicken wouldn’t last much longer without her attentions, and she wanted her hard work to go into her man’s belly rather than to the stray dogs outside.

So she ran warm water and wiped him down, leaving his rumpled, stained clothes in the bathroom in favor of guiding him into their bedroom and to the clothes she habitually laid out on the counterpane. Elvis still wore a childish, empty-headed expression, all pretty face and guileless baby blues that made her heart flip. But the chicken—so she asked, carefully, “Baby, can you dress yourself? I gotta check on dinner.”

That was a mistake, a misstep, judging by the way his glistening chest started to heave in a panic and his eyes started to water afresh. “Y’yer leavin’ me?” he slurred out of puffy, shiny lips.

“No, no!” she rushed to get it out, holding onto him again and gently guiding him to sit down on the bed -the bed she’d watched him wring himself out on a week ago- “I’ll stay, I’ll stay.” she repeated, at a loss as to how to comfort him beyond touch and all her ire gone out of her at the sight of his limb shaking terror. She was still new to this, they both were. New and a little lost and they had to keep ahold of each other or they’d float away. Damn the chicken.

That was the problem wasn’t it? They needed to share everything. Solitary children, the both of them, and now they had each other. It made each separation or fissure in their shared experience a doubly worse betrayal because of it. That was Elaine’s chief complaint against him this week, it never was about other women, it was about the separation, the estrangement, the uncoupling.

Helpless, she acted on impulse and sat herself down in his naked lap, curling around him and feeling with heart melting relief his arms encircle her, squeezing her to his chest fiercely.

“T-t-the house was empty.” he stuttered out his explanation, trying to get her to understand what that was like for him -rushing home to make her stay, flinging open the door and not a bit of life to be found in his home.

His version of hell.

“You thought,” she soothed, kissing at his cheek, “but I’ve got chicken on the stove and our babies are with Betsy. I’m here. I’m right here. All that was missin’ was you. And now you’re here, too.”

His shakes subsided a little and he nods, rearing his head back to really look at her and on seeing her clearly, Elvis beams at her, wide and carefree, and it made her heart clench with… with love, to see him like this. To see the sheer trust behind this mindset he’d slipped into, it made her feel like the most special girl in the world. It made her forget any and all Susans and waitresses and other such floozies. They could have the tiny crumbs they snatched from the floor like rats—Elaine was the one with his ring on her finger, who got this. Her husband buries his face in her neck and flutters kisses over her wildly thumping pulse.

She feels like she’s keeping a secret, all of the sudden.

This, this has been coming for a long time. Building slow and steady in Elaine’s heart like the consciousness of a babe growing, first just a suspicion, and then excitement, then visible proof, and then the testing pain of it.

Till at last, a babe she loved ferociously without having ever even met it. This, somewhere along the way, this affection for him had become love, her head left behind and her heart in a full gallop, unrestrained, unreasoned with, undendiable.

“You could crush me with the tiniest word, ya know that?” she realizes it as she says it.

Realizes that’s what love is, giving power over yourself to someone else. It’s why she was so angry, so suddenly lonely, so fiercely protective of her portion of him.

It’s love.

He must’ve felt so lonely, so scared, loving her without a promise of return, there’s no way she could have managed that. He’s brave, her boy, he’s so brave. “I didn’t, I didn’t realize how strong a feelin’ it is.” she whispers, her own voice choked up with tears and Elvis raises his face from her neck abruptly, surfacing quite suddenly from his submissive stupor and looking almost wary in his hopefulness.

“What feelin’?” His voice dipps impossibly lower and it contrasts thrillingly with that boyish face.

“Ya shoulda warned me, you fool.” she blushes and smacks at his neck in embarrassed dallying, “How was I to know? Never been…never been before…”

“What feelin’!” he demands, grabbing her chin and his hand spanned the width of her jaw, one side to the other, paying her back in her own vehement coin.

Her smile grows even under the vice grip of his fingers and red lips part to flash gleaming white teeth and with a little sniffle and a roll of her chocolate drop eyes she huffs, “Love, Elvis, I’ve loved badly ya for a long time now, just didn’t realize it.”

He coulda told her that, coulda told her every little thing she did for him was loving, but she had to know it herself, so he’d let her be. The hand on her jaw spasms as he sucks in a little sob, his lip wobbling before his breath heaves back out in a:

“Oh thank god, oh baby, fuck, I don’t mean tthat I-I-I oh thank Jesus-“ his head thuds back onto her chest and she realizes he’s weeping then, tears and whatnot adding to their previous mess on her undone placard.

“Oh, shh, shh, it’s ok.” she mutters helplessly, holding onto his shoulders and trying to hug the truth deeper into him,

“Say it again.” he near wails into her breasts.

“I. Love. You.” she thumps his back with each statement like she’s burping a baby.

He pulls his head back and looks at her again, double takes, like he’s gonna glare the veracity of her truth outta her. “You’re jus’ sayin’ that casue you’re mad I ain’t no goody two shoes husband. ” he tests, moody and sullen.

Elaine knows this game, she smirks at his transparency, “These ain’t the first girls I’ve caught hangin’ on ya, E,” she reminds him, recalling as she does that Betsy, who she found him sharing an actual bed with while away from her, will be bringing the kids back any minute now, and here they are undressed, “and like I said, I’ve been obligin’ haven’t I?”

“Yeah. Don’t mean ya love me.” he points out.

“I thought we got this point into that fool head of yours while downstairs but I guess you weren’t paying attention.” she tsks, rising from his lap and stripping out of her soaked house dress -much to his confusion and distraction- while going on merrily, “I’m angry this time cause you left me out!” she dictates her point with an elegant finger to his sternum and his eyebrows raise in semi-enlightenment, “I don’t wanna be left out! I’m jealous of you, cause I love you and I’m damn proud that your mine, and you make me happier than I thought I could ever be and ya make me angrier than I-I thought either. Lord I’d do obscene things to keep you lovin me, E, I would. And I’d kill ya ‘fore I let you tire of me. If you’ve got lady friends,” she continues in the face of his growing smile, the death threat really warming his southern heart, as she pulls on another dress, “you’ll tell me about them. I’m your wife, you owe me your time and you owe me your vigor and if you’ve got scraps left to give elsewhere, well,” she flips her hair out of the collar and presses her hands primly to her sides, “then I’ll be kept informed of them. They’ll be our little secret, not yours. There ain’t a you and a me, there’s just us. You swore it, Naughty, ya swore it before God.”

“I ‘member.” he nods solemnly from his place on the side of the bed, “But there ain’t anyone else, lil Mama,” his tone is unbearably earnest, “there’s jus’ you.”

Elaine’s heart twinges at that. It’s a truth, she knows, but for how long? She’s been so scared to care about him too much, so sure he’s gonna hurt her eventually. He’d managed to wiggle his way into her heart anyway, and she’s tired of being unconscious of it, this fierce devotion dying to be let out at last.

She lets the statement be, takes it for the promise it is. She’s his wife. “I know.” She assured him.

“If ya love me,” he challenges once more, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little tired from the emotion and the exertion and the contention, “-get over her and show it.” he taunts as he leans back on the bed, his arms wide open and his body inviting and she knows he knows, knows he gets it.

She tackles him anyway. Knocking the air out of him and tossing him back into the counterpane, letting him roll her under him and thrash atop the outfit she laid out for him. Let’s him kiss her greedily and wantingly and sure, thinks she can feel the difference in him.

This is Elvis knowing he’s loved. He’s magical and sure of himself and confident in a way that boosts her own surety, like they’re feeding each other in a never ending replenishing cycle.

“My yittle baby, my perfect baby, my wifey, silly widdle thang don’t know her own mind.” he mumbles into her hairline as he peppers her face with smooches and she allows it; soaks up the dynamic change as suddenly he’s patronizing and sure of himself even as he’s talking all little and vulnerable.

He’s Elvis.

And he’s kissing her ravenously as if he can persuade her to love him more with each press of his plush lips and each nip of his teeth and lick of his tongue.

“You’ve been cryin’.” he comments as he licks at her cheeks, tasting tears, and his voice sounds surprised as if he himself wasn’t weeping a few minutes ago.

“So were you.” she laughs.

“Nuh uh.” he denies with a shake of his head and she rolls her eyes while his tongue plunges into her mouth once more. Foolish man, stubborn, bashful man that she loves, God help her-

“Yooo hooo!” comes from right outside their door, right in the upstairs hallway and Elvis dives off her onto the other side of their bed before she can even think to suggest it. His naked form lying full prone to the ground, tactically perfect -turns out the army taught him a thing or two, though that butt of his is still sticking up higher than would be preferred in a tactical setting. Elaine stifles the sound of her snicker but he sees her nose wrinkle from it and swears softly at her.

“Betsy, darlin’ just a minute.” Elaine hollers, while patting herself down to make sure she’s not misplaced some important part of herself during all this wrassling. She grabs his clothes from the bed and tosses them down at him, watching bemused as he tries to get them on in his prone position before stepping over to him to bend down and kiss him once more. “I love you.” she reminds.

He turns scarlet under the plunging neckline of his white sweater, “thank ya.” he preens sweetly and she takes a second to admire that, her hand still stroking his soft cheek, before straightening up and going to the door.

Cracking open the door the rest of the way reveals Betsy in her pretty gingham, arms straining to hold up one baby while the other strains her arm to be released for a crawl. “How do ya do it?” she gasps, talking about the children who immediately break lose of her nannying arms, Ella diving straight for her mother’s embraces while Jesse books it on the floor between Elaine’s legs, headed towards Elvis hiding place like he can sniff him out.

Elvis pops up just in time, a little rumpled and askew but thoroughly covered, though his attempt to pick up his son is aborted by the way his legs are still shaking and he wobbles onto the bed with a noisy flail. He feels Jesse pawing at his shin as Elizabeth’s eyes rake over him and he wonders if this is how Elaine felt sitting at lunch with Daddy and Dodger after their wedding night, or at each train stop on the way down fo Fort Hood when he paraded her in front of his adoring fans in between feverish bouts of love making that left her near catatonically used.

He recalls how she looked very well. He remembers his savage smugness at touching up her smudged makeup and displaying her again and again all primped after he wrecked her, wondering if the world could see how claimed she was by the wobble of her painted lip and the wide shock of her perfectly lined eyes.

Look, he’d been saying at each station stop, look at the perfect little thing that lets me love her.

He sees that smugness on Elaine’s face as she waits for Elizabeth to get her breath back as she just stares and stares at Elvis spread out in the bed like he’s grown another head. Betsy looks so shocked by the sight of him he actually looks down to make sure he’s put on pants but all's in order, he must just have “Elaine’s stud” written on his forehead and he blushes at that. He wouldn’t allow it if she didn’t love him. He’s afraid he’s gonna be allowing a lotta shit for the reason. Looking down for his pants reminds him of his baby boy, still clutching his pant leg and he grunts with the effort of heaving himself upright and pulling his little buddy into his lap.

“Hey bubs, how ya been?” he babbles as he tips backwards again, his spin worn out and he realizes he’s terribly weak and very, very hungry. He thinks he can smell buttery soft breading burning downstairs and it makes his mouth water.

“I manage it with help like yours.” Elaine replies, honest and bemused a few seconds late and she almost snaps her fingers in front of Elizabeth’s glazed eyes before the girl finally drags them back from the sight of her languid husband to her own face.

“Oh, n-no problem. Anytime.” Betsy assures again, sweet gal that she is. “Do I need to stay and work on the letters?” she asks it a little hopefully, wringing her now empty hands, and Elaine knows that she’s missed being in this house and around him, around them even, what with Elaine kicking her out for privacy during his withdrawals.

Not many families have a pretty, live-in secretary that the wife tolerates but the Presley’s aren’t most families, and Elaine is accommodating as they’ve just established, and she likes collecting people around her man that she’s certain love him the right sort of way. And if he loves them back, well, it’s a curious thing to her that she doesn’t for once doubt he’s got enough to go around. Her love cup will be overflowing from now on, she has no need to begrudge the droplets that others quench themselves with. She realizes what was missing was her own contribution.

It all settles into place, belonging and longing and having. She loves him.

“No, no need for the letters tonight.” She replies and watches Betsy’s pretty face fall for a brief moment before the girl catches herself, then Elaine adds what she always intended to add- “But stay for dinner, Betsy, so long as it hasn’t burned.”

We hope y’all enjoyed and can’t wait to hear your thoughts, screams and prompts 🌹💋

Taglist (comment if you’d like to be added, dears)

@paradsol000

@eliseinmemphis

@prompted-wordsmith

@ab4eva

@foreverdolly

@powerofelvis

@butlersxbirdy

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

@ash-omalley

@whatstruthgottodowithit

@arianatheangelgirl

@steph-speaks

@burningloverdoll

@angelface-555

@lookingforrainbows

@missmaywemeetagain

@coolgirl462

@kingdomforapony

@18lkpeters

@richardslady121

@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

@notstefaniepresley

@ellie-24

@renaissingle

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

[headmates-for-you]

⚔️🛡️ back again :) a genshin subsystem would be sick, and again you can just do however many you feel like lol

Genshin Impact sub system of 20 members! roles included

this was so fun, I hope you love them all as much as I do -🪓

Name(s): Gaming, Yip

Age(s): 16

Pronouns: he/him, it/its, they/them

Gender(s): nonbinary

Orientation(s): gay

TransID(s): transdancer, transanimal, transpowers, transpyro, transchinese, permawarm, furry (red lion)

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: mild zoophilia

Emoji signoff: ⚔️🦁

Positive trigger(s): lions, wushou dances

Role(s): fictive, middle, trauma holder

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Cyno

Age(s): 22

Pronouns: he/him, it/its

Gender(s): intersex male

Orientation(s): gay

TransID(s): transgod, transegyptian, transwarrior, transmonster, transharmed, transharmful, permadogboy, transanubis, transgeneral

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: having power/authority

Emoji signoff: ⚔️💜

Positive trigger(s): egyptian mythology

Role(s): fictive, emotional protector, absorber, monarch

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Dori, Dorin, Sange (pronounced sahn-gay)

Age(s): chrono 202, trans 20

Pronouns: he/him, she/her

Gender(s): genderfluid

Orientation(s): panromantic demi-asexual

TransID(s): transgender, transscamartist, transtrader, transmerchant, transegyptian, transdarkskin, transgod, ichoramian, transage, permashort

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: timophilia

Emoji signoff: ⚔️💰

Positive trigger(s): money, wearing sunglasses

Role(s): fictive, companion, distractor

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Rosaria, Thorn, Rose, Sister Rose

Age(s): 30

Pronouns: she/her, they/them

Gender(s): cisfemale

Orientation(s): straight, hypersexual

TransID(s): rosescentic, pinkbloodic, transnun, transfaith, transreligious, transnonconforming, transgendernonconforming, permadevout

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: hybriphilia, serviphilia

Emoji signoff: ⚔️🌹

Positive trigger(s): churches, prayer, rose bushes (red and/or black)

Role(s): fictive, religion holder, trauma holder, religious protector, sexual protector

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Alhaitham, Haitham, Haith, Alhai

Age(s): 32-33

Pronouns: he/him

Gender(s): cismale

Orientation(s): gay

TransID(s): transbusinessman, transprofessional, transscribe, transacademic, transdarkacademiaaesthetic

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: none

Emoji signoff: ⚔️🌱

Positive trigger(s): note taking

Role(s): fictive, academic, grief holder, subsystem co-host, homework helper

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Layla, Star

Age(s): ageless

Pronouns: she/her, they/them, star/stars, moon/moons

Gender(s): stargender, intersex, transfem

Orientation(s): panromantic asexual

TransID(s): transgender, transgoddess, permatired, permaeyebags, transhalfasleep, transhalfawake, transstudent, transastrologist, permasleepdeprived, transsleepwalker, transinsomnia

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: somnophilia, autobiastophilia

Emoji signoff: ⚔️💤

Positive trigger(s): staying up late (past 2-3am)

Role(s): fictive, insomnia holder, nightmare holder

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Kuki, Mend

Age(s): ambiguous, ageless

Pronouns: they/them

Gender(s): agender

Orientation(s): aroace, doesn’t have time for relationships

TransID(s): transhealer, transgangaffiliate, transshinobu, transninja, transleader, transdeputy, transsidekick, transprofessional, transdelinquent, fictionkin (Gin - BSD)

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: hybristophilia, somnophilia

Emoji signoff: ⚔️🩹

Positive trigger(s): helping people

Role(s): fictive, migraine holder, medical host, pain supressor

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Tighnari, Ti, Watcher

Age(s): 26

Pronouns: he/him, they/them, she/her

Gender(s): bigender, genderfaun

Orientation(s): unsure

TransID(s): transgender, permafemboy, transforestranger, transgraduate, transwatcher, permastern, transnononsense, transofficer, transsolitary, permaforestdweller

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: dendrophilia, pyrophilia, teratophilia

Emoji signoff: ⚔️🌿

Positive trigger(s): nature walks

Role(s): fictive, sadness holder, trauma holder, soother

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Ororon, Shadow

Age(s): 22-28

Pronouns: he/him

Gender(s): intersex male

Orientation(s): aromantic heteroflexible

TransID(s): transvampire, transfangs, transdemon, transfatui, transdemon, permaweird, transincomplete, transsoulless

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: nyctophilia, teratophilia

Emoji signoff: ⚔️🍷

Positive trigger(s): vampires, gardens

Role(s): fictive, socializer, spite holder

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Ayato

Age(s): 25-26

Pronouns: he/him

Gender(s): cismale

Orientation(s): bi (male pref)

TransID(s): transbobaaddict, transolderbrother, transspirit, transdragon

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: consang

Emoji signoff: ⚔️🧋

Positive trigger(s): Ayaka, boba, rainy days

Role(s): fictive, gatekeeper, ableism protector, social alter

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Ayaka, Heron, Frost

Age(s): 16-17

Pronouns: she/her

Gender(s): cisfemale

Orientation(s): bi (male pref)

TransID(s): translittlesister, transspirit, transdragon, transbird, transnobility

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: consang

Emoji signoff: ⚔️👑

Positive trigger(s): Ayato, large birds

Role(s): fictive, middle, trauma holder, academic, monarch

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Kazuha, Kaedehara, Kaede/Kade

Age(s): 18-20

Pronouns: he/him

Gender(s): trans male

Orientation(s): open to anything

TransID(s): transgender, transreigon, transera, transsamurai, transwanderer, transadventurer, transrunaway, permachill, transtrackrunner

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: cheirophilia, podophilia

Emoji signoff: ⚔️💨

Positive trigger(s): windy days, samurai

Role(s): fictive, soother, anxiety overrider, apathy holder

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Mualani, Lani

Age(s): 17-19

Pronouns: she/her, surf/surfs, wave/waves, shark/sharks

Gender(s): cisfemale

Orientation(s): pan, hypersexual

TransID(s): transislander, transtransgender, transsharkwhisperer, transOLD, transADHD (hyperactive)

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: hybristophilia, zoophilia (aquatic animals)

Emoji signoff: ⚔️🦈

Positive trigger(s): sharks, surfing, crashing waves

Role(s): fictive, social alter, online social alter, ADHD holder, sexual protector

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Hu Tao, Ghosty/Ghost, Haunt

Age(s): chrono 542, trans 15-18

Pronouns: he/him

Gender(s): trans male

Orientation(s): aromantic gay

TransID(s): transage, transgender, transghost, transspirit, transmonster, transmedium

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: spectrophilia

Emoji signoff: ⚔️👻

Positive trigger(s): graveyards, halloween

Role(s): fictive, anxiety holder, corrupter

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Ganyu

Age(s): chrono 3674, trans 20

Pronouns: they/them, she/her

Gender(s): female

Orientation(s): aromantic demi-bisexual

TransID(s): transdragon, transpowers, transsecretary, transmonster, transhorns, transchinese, transpeaceful

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: pyrophilia

Emoji signoff: ⚔️❄️

Positive trigger(s): snow, dragons

Role(s): fictive, caretaker, designated driver, protector

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Razor

Age(s): 14

Pronouns: it/its, he/him, thing/things, paw/paws

Gender(s): cismale

Orientation(s): aroace

TransID(s): transdogboy, transanimal, transmonster, transadopted, transESL, therian (wolf), permagrowling, transrestingbitchface

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: zoophilia

Emoji signoff: ⚔️🐾

Positive trigger(s): wolves, barking

Role(s): fictive, intrusive thoughts holder, defender, protector, prosecutor, rage holder, sadness holder

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Neuvillette, Ori, Neuvi

Age(s): chrono 1,462, trans 32

Pronouns: he/him, they/them

Gender(s): genderfaun

Orientation(s): gay (says straight)

TransID(s): transjudge, transage, transdragon, transpowers, transwings, transhorns, transancient, trandera

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: mortals

Emoji signoff: ⚔️🪶

Positive trigger(s): Wriothesley/Rio/Ryze, organizing, waterfalls, otters

Role(s): fictive, subsystem host, worker

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Wriothesley (pronounced ryze-lee), Rio, Ryze

Age(s): 39-40

Pronouns: he/him

Gender(s): ambiguous male

Orientation(s): biromantic gay

TransID(s): translord, transdogboy, transwolfman, transpitfighter, transmurderer, transkillcount, transfostered, transadopted, transcriminal, transadministrator, transwarden, transrolemodel

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: violentsexual, sadomasochism

Emoji signoff: ⚔️👊

Positive trigger(s): people/animals in/from adoption centers

Role(s): fictive, adopter, little supervisor/caretaker

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Keqing, Keqqi (pronounced catchy)

Age(s): 18-22

Pronouns: she/her, mew/mews

Gender(s): trans female

Orientation(s): achillean

TransID(s): transgender, transcatgirl, transstorm, transweatherphenomenon, transharmed

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: storms

Emoji signoff: ⚔️⚡️

Positive trigger(s): cats, lightning

Role(s): fictive, trauma holder

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Kaveh

Age(s): 27

Pronouns: he/him

Gender(s): cismale

Orientation(s): heteroromantic bisexual

TransID(s): permaarchitect, transautistic, transADHD (inatentive)

Source(s): Genshin Impact

Paras: none

Emoji signoff: ⚔️💼

Positive trigger(s): victorian architecture, any building style he’s fixated on

Role(s): fictive, architect, subsystem co-host, social alter, protector

Faceclaim:

[wildblue2020]

Brozone: Getting their S/O to sleep🌙headcannons

John Dory 🐶

You both spent the day together in Rhonda, adventuring

By the time night falls he's expecting you to be in bed waiting for him so he can cuddle you

If you're not, then he'll do one of two things depending on what you're doing

First, he'll whine for you to come to bed

Which annoys the living heck out of you but internally you find it cute cause he's like a whiney little puppy

"BAAAAABE COME TO BED!!! I WANNA CUDDLEEE!!!"

"In a minute hun!"

"A MINUTE IS FOREVER, COME TO BEEEEED!"

The whining will go on for at least a half hour or even longer

Then there's the second option

He comes out of the bedroom to find you

And as soon as he sees you, he's picking you up, hoisting you over his shoulder and carrying you to the bedroom

You probably should've known this was gonna happen but you were too busy squirming and hitting his back

"JOHN DORY!! IF YOU DON'T PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW-"

Before you could finish yelling, he had you pinned on the bed

Narrowing his eyes down at you

He then lays down on you, little spoon position, and grips your hips the way he does in the morning refusing to let you go and whines like an excited puppy

You giggle and kiss him on the forehead taking off his goggles and setting them aside on the nightstand

"I love you." "I love you too, hun."

Spruce/Bruce 🌹

It was closing night at the restaurant

You were in the kitchen doing dishes for the night since you were on dish duty

Until your boyfriend swoops in calling your name

"Y/NN my lovee!!"

At first, he tries to convince you that someone else can do the night chores

Just to get you to sleep or cuddle with him before you both really have to sleep

"Not right now sweetie, I gotta finish these dishes tonight so we have enough for tomorrow."

"My love, you've done enough already the rest can wait until the morning!"

"I'm coming to bed sweetie, I promise. Just give me a minute."

But as soon as you let out a yawn his hands start to trail around your waist/hips circling it with his fingers making your body slightly jolt

"Come on my love~ It’s time for bed~"

When you say his name sternly, he doesn't stop there

He's now whispering sweet nothings into your ear just to test you...

"But I miss you when you’re not by my side~”

"Are you sure you want to keep doing dishes when you could be in my bed right now~?"

When you turn around to face him and scold him, he's giving you that innocent dad smile

You reluctantly sigh giving in

When you two finally are in bed, he assures that Brandi can finish the dishes in the morning

If he's also feeling seducing enough, then you two will kiss before falling asleep in each other's arms

Clay 📗

This is most likely to happen when you're working on paperwork for too long

You're normally stressed out by the time night falls

Putt Putt Village is a lot of work to run after all

As soon as he sees you, he'll come up behind you and give you a kiss on the cheek making you let out a giggle

"Hiiii baby!"

"Hi sweetheart, I’ll come to bed in a minute. Just gonna get these last two papers out of the way”

"It can wait until tomorrow you need rest."

You politely decline assuring him it was okay and that you'll go to sleep as soon as you are done

Clay wasn't having that

His hand is now on your thigh rubbing it and his breath is on the nape of your neck making your cheeks go red

"You're coming to bed." He’ll say in that petty voice of his

When you tried to protest again, he is now kissing your nape making you go redder in the face

He takes this chance to take the pen out of your hand without his lips leaving your nape that are now travelling down to your shoulder

"C-Clay!"

"I’m not stopping until you come to bed."

"Clay! I still gotta-"

He abruptly stops and spins the chair you're sitting in so you could face him fully as he puts his hands on the desk trapping you in between his arms narrowing his eyes at you

"You're coming to bed."

"Okay Clay okay. You win." You mutter defeated/flustered

By the time the door to his admin office/bedroom is shut, Clay is scooping you up onto the bed and kissing you to sleep

"You're so petty, you know that?" You grumbled

"Well do you know, you love it~?" He smirked

"Yeah... I do" You stifle a giggle before you both cuddle to sleep

Floyd 🩷

Because of Floyd being the sweetest of all sweethearts wouldn't mind up staying up late with you for a little while

Most likely scrapbooking or late-night talks

But until that yawn escapes your lips, he looks at you with that meaning it was time to go to sleep

"Is someone getting tired~?"

"Pfft no, it was just a yawn." Then you'd continue scrapbooking

"Yeah, that means you're tired~"

"I have no idea what you're talking about..."

But just when you think you are off the hook, he suddenly catches you off guard taking the scrapbook out of your hands and kisses you on the lips

He looks at you with that smug and ILLEGAL cute look on his face

"Come on sunshine, let's go to sleep."

"Floyd it's fine I'm not tired-"

He kissed you again

"Floyd-"

Another kiss

The more you try to talk, the more he kisses you and then it leads to play wrestling with you trying to make him stop until you give in

"Okay okay you win!"

"Does that mean you're going to sleep with me now~?"

"Yes."

"Good."

When you both get in his room, he may want to kiss a little more before going to sleep

And who are you to say no?

[many-but-one]

Dori here!

Gender and sexuality when fused with so many folks is so strange.

For context I’m fused with five different parts.

-Jules (they/them, femme leaning non-binary, bi demisexual leaning toward women)

-Foster (he/him, genderfluid amab man, pansexual leaning toward men, very hypersexual, DTF with anyone anytime)

-Rebecca (she/her, cis woman, femme lesbian)

-Rachel (she/her, female child alter)

-Maribelle (she/her, female child alter)

All of the above loved feminine self expression so that is pretty obvious on where I land now. Sometimes the masculine side of Foster comes out of nowhere and smacks me in the face though and that throws me for a loop.

Simultaneously extremely hypersexual like Foster was but also don’t want to be touched by anyone except those I trust wholeheartedly like Jules.

Currently dating a butch lesbian, a bisexual man, and a gay man. I am bisexual and that seems to remain constant which is nice. It’s nice to have something constant, here.

Still sort of consider myself a gay man like Foster but also not? I like the term “twink” or even “femboy” to describe myself even though I look female in the IW, use she/her pronouns, and don’t like to be referred to as or considered a man. Describing myself as a femme lesbian doesn’t feel right even though I kind of am one by definition.

When with my girlfriend I am fine being considered a lesbian. But when I’m with my bisexual male partner it feels like a straight relationship. But when I’m with my gay male partner I consider it a gay mlm relationship.

My name IS Dorian but being called Dorian instead of Dori feels Weird. But it also feels Totally Fine That’s Literally My Name.

My brain really said “you’re never going to be able to figure out your gender or sexuality ever again, have fun with that” 😭😭

Which is FINE, I’m the happiest I’ve been probably ever in my life and it doesn’t bring me THAT much uncomfortableness but it’s still a real whiplash to be like “I’m a lesbian girl but I’m also a gay twink” and I don’t even know what to do with this🤣

Any other DID folks who have multiple fused parts in yourself have this struggle??

[bishonenspit]

dori dori dori 💋🌹

[minminyoonjii]

Hi hi! How are you? I hope you're doing okay!

just wanted to ask if you could write more of very little!reader, like maybe how ot8 reacts to them slipping into babyspace for the first time by having an accident.

This is my first ask ever, so with that I also want to say that your blog literally gives me so much comfort and I’ve probably read everything on your blog so far haha.

Thank you for writing stuff like this~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🧡Stray Kids Scenarios Masterlist

🌹CW

Hurt/Comfort|Domestic Settings|Fluffy|Soft Reassurance Fic|Crying|Wetting Self|Skzoo Drama|Gender Neutral! Reader|Changing Mats Spawn|Tooth Rotting Sweet

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.8K

Bang Chan

Toys scattered around you. "Up, up, up," you babbled, stacking the blocks higher. Giggles erupted past your lips when it all came tumbling down. You started building it again, your bladder uncomfortably full. "Daddy?" you called out but Chan didn't reply. You've never been to the bathroom without your Daddy before. "Gon' wait," you mumbled, trying to play with your blocks before the aching need to pee grew bigger. "Daddy!" you wailed when you couldn't hold back any more. Pee drenched your shorts and playmat. Chan stumbled into the room, his shoulder hitting the door, "Little one, are you okay?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest. Your cries didn't halt even though he was in the room. Chan carefully picked you up and bounced you in his arms, "Shh, shh. Daddy's here. Daddy's here, baby," he cooed, trying to coax you. Babbles of sobs spilt from your lips. Chan hooked his chin over your head, "It's okay, little one. Daddy will change you and we can cuddle up, hm?" he said, carrying you to the changing mat. You sniffled, suckling on your pacifier as he changed you out of your damp clothes. Chan cooed, "Are you feeling better, bubs?" he asked, wiping you down. You squirmed under the cold wipe, "Hhgh," you whined, trying to kick him. Chan chuckled, using the powder puff, "Don't try to kick Daddy, little one," he said, sliding the diaper up your back. You squirmed, staring up at him with pitiful glossy eyes. "My little baby," Chan said, lifting you back up.

Lee Minho

You crawled around the living room, your quick motions jolted the kitties around you. "Soong Soong," you called out, trying to catch Soongie's tail. Giggles spilt from your lips as Soongie swat his tail against your cheek. You plopped yourself down, catching your breath. "Meow," Dori mewled, nuzzling your lap. You gently patted him after being taught by Minho about being too rough. You pressed your legs together, your bladder threatening to burst the moment you relaxed. "Hhgh," you whined, trying to crawl to the bathroom but it was too late. Tears weld up in your eyes with a hint of shame and fear. "Mama, mama!" you cried, staying in your crawling position. Minho peeked his head from the kitchen, "Cupcake?" he questioned, turning off the stove. You looked up with splotchy tears, "Mama," you hiccuped, your head pounding from crying too hard. Minho gasped and carried you in his arms, "My little cupcake, did you have an accident?" he asked, bringing you to the changing mat. You suckled on your thumb, staring up at him. Minho undressed your damp clothes, "Oh, your little eyes dilated haven't they," he cooed, powdering your sensitive parts. You giggled when Soonie jumped up onto the changing mat and nuzzled your face. "Nom," you whispered, trying to bite his paw. Minho chuckled, carrying Soonie off you, "No biting the kitties, cupcake," he said, easing your feet through the diaper holes. You squirmed but Minho eventually managed to have you diapered up.

Seo Changbin

Skzoo's surrounded you, "Kith, kith," you said, holding Dweakki up with Jiniret. You giggled as they smooched, "Muah," you said, pairing Leebit with Han Quokka next when you felt the urge to pee. "Hhgh," you whined, getting up with wobbly legs. "Nee go fast," you whimpered, wobbling to the bathroom but your bladder relaxed. "Hic," you sniffled, standing in the puddle. "Look what Baba made, agi," Changbin said, not noticing the mess until you sobbed. He set the plate of pancakes aside, "Aigo-yah. It's okay, agi. Baba will clean you up, hm?" he said, carrying you. "Made mess," you sniffed, burrowing into his shoulder. Changbin rubbed your back, "Every little makes a mess once in a while, agi," he reassured, laying you on the changing mat. You felt your mind get heavy, the hazy clouded your senses. Changbin noticed a slight twinge of intrigue in your eyes. He held up a diaper and your eyes widened at it. "Did you slip?" Changbin murmured, placing a clean diaper on your chest. You gripped and tugged it, soft babbles echoed within the the room. Changbin cleaned you up and rubbed cream on your inner thighs, "Can Baba have the diaper back, agi?" he asked, his palm open and patient. You happily placed it in his hand, "Bah!" you exclaimed, trying to suckle your fist. Changbin chuckled, strapping the diaper on, "That's right, agi. I'm your Baba," he cooed, rubbing your tummy.

Hwang Hyunjin

"Tickles," you giggle, snuggling Kkami on your lap. You nuzzled your face into his fur. Kkami playfully licked your cheek. "Icky," you whined, wiping your cheek when he accidentally stepped on your tummy. You yelped, not realizing your bladder was full. You tried to get Kkami off but he just wanted to play, "Kkami off," you whined when he accidentally pressed down on your bladder. You hiccuped as pee trickled. Kkami barked at the pooling messy you say in. Alerting Hyunjin into the room, "Lovely? Is Kkami being a brat again?" he asked, going towards you when he heard a splosh. He tilted his head, "Ahh. An accident," Hyunjin realized, carrying you up. You pouted against his shoulder, "Kkami didn't want get off," you complained, making Hyunjin chuckle. "Bad Kkami," he said, kissing your forehead. You felt yourself get smaller when he towered over you on the changing mat. You wiggled your feet, loving the way he doted on you. Hyunjin cooed, placing a teether in your hands, "Chew on this while Papa cleans you up, hm?" he said, powdering your sensitive part. You didn't know how long past but Hyunjin carried you back up, "All clean," he said, placing you down in the crib. You whined at the lack of presence. Hyunjin kissed your forehead, "Papa will clean up and come back. Promise," he said, linking fingers with you.

Han Jisung

"Appa?" you called out, crawling around the kitchen. You looked into the living room and Jisung wasn't there. You jutted your bottom lip, "Appa?" you called out again, your voice twinged with worry and fear. You whined and found yourself trying to peek outside, "Pretty," you whispered when a bird flew into the window with a loud thud. You flinched at the sound, tears pooling in your eyes as you peed yourself scared. Your wails made their way upstairs, "Appa's here! Appa's right here," Jisung said, stomping down the stairs with a towel around his waist. You sniffled, "Made mess," you said, rubbing your eyes. Jisung frowned, carrying you, "It's okay, sweetie. Messes are normal," he reassured, rubbing your back. "Do you want to bathe with Appa?" he asked, kissing your cheek. You nodded, "With duckie?" you asked your word slurring by the minute. Jisung took notice of this change as he walked up the stairs, "Of course, duckie," he said, setting you on the counter. You sat still as Jisung undressed your dirty clothing, "Clean up time," he cooed, giving you a quick deep clean. Your giggles echoed within the walls, "Quack, quack" you babbled. Jisung chuckled, drying you up, "That's right, sweetheart. Ducks go quack," he said, laying you on the changing mat. It didn't take long for him to efficiently change you, "You smell all clean," he cooed, pampering kisses on your tummy. You giggled, trying to pull his hair. Jisung smiled, "Sweetie, Appa needs his hair. The bald look isn't for me yet," he chuckled, holding you close.

Lee Felix

"Sunbeam, mommy made brownies," he beamed, carrying a plate towards you. "Nom," you said, biting your teether. Felix chuckled, "Yes nom," he said, tugging the teether from your mouth as he fed you a piece. You wiggled, enjoying the dessert, "Mommy has to check his PC. Will you be okay for a second?" he asked, stroking your hair. You nodded, distracted by yummy brownies. Felix chuckled, "Be good," he said, sprinting up to his room. You sipped on your sippy cup, finishing the water inside as you laid on your tummy to play. "Hhgh," you whined as your bladder filled up. You stood up with shaky knees, your bladder sending shocks up your body with each step. "Hah," you said, as your breath hitched with pee trickling down your legs. "Mommy!" you shouted out, holding the cabinet for support. Felix sprinted down the stairs, "Yes, sunbeam?" he replied, instantly noticing your dilemma. Without another word, he laid you on the changing mat, changed your clothes into a Bokkari onesie and slipped a pacifier in your mouth. Your mind felt heavy and hazy at his attention. Felix chuckled, patting your diapered bottom, "Eepy time, sunshine," he chuckled, rocking your body. Sleep etched on your eyelids, somehow coaxing you to sleep. Felix chuckled, "Mommy knows best," he said, kissing your forehead.

Kim Seungmin

You looked around the living room for stray skzoos'. You don't know how Jiniret ended up behind the cabinet but there he was. "Puppy, puppy," you whispered, sticking your arm under places to find them. "Eh," you whined, trying to tug back your arm but it was stuck. "Hhgh," you whimpered, tugging harder but it hurt. You sobbed, "Dada!" you cried, sobbing hard enough that your bladder gave way. Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, looking for you when he noticed your position, "Munchkin!" he exclaimed, gently easing your arm from under the chair. You sobbed, crying into his chest in relief. Seungmin cooed, rubbing your back as he pulled the changing mat over, "You're okay, little munchkin," he said, changing you out of your damp clothes. You sniffled, curling your hands into fists as he placed mittens over your palms. Seungmin chuckled, lifting your hips as he tapped you up, "Wittle munchkin's like you should have mittens," he said, tickling your tummy. You squirmed, pouting at him. Seungmin grinned, laying you on the couch, "Dada's getting the mop, okay? Don't roll off," he cooed, placing a pillow beside you.

Yang Jeongin

"Jiniret, I love you," you said, holding Dweakki up. Jiniret scoffed, "I'm in love with another," you giggled, turning Jiniret away. Dweakki kneeled, "Who is this man?" you asked, moving Dweakki's hands over his eyes like he was crying. Jiniret turned back, "He. Is. Foxi.ny," you said, making Jiniret and Foxi.ny kiss. Dweakki lay on the floor, "I lost to the maknae!" you exclaimed, playing a kdrama outro. You wiggled your hips, "Need pee," you whined, getting up to the bathroom. You tried opening the door but it was locked. "Hhgh," you whined, doing the pee dance as you held your crotch. Whines spilt from your lips as you ended up peeing down your shorts. Jeongin opened the bathroom door, his phone blasting Spotify, "Angel?" he questioned, seeing the puddle beneath your feet. You sniffled, glaring at him through your glossy eyes. Jeongin's heart clenched, "Oh no. Ninnin's sorry, angel. He didn't hear you," he said, carrying you to the changing mat. "Aigo," he cooed, wiping you down and rubbing powder on your inner thighs, "I'm sorry," he said, tapping the diaper around your waist. You stopped glaring when Jeongin placed your pacifier past your lips, "Sorry, little angel," he sighed, cradling you to his bare chest. You nuzzled his smooth skin, comfort coating your mind. Jeongin nuzzled your hair, his chin hooking your head, "My baby angel," he whispered, kissing your forehead.

[xeno-archive]

ALTER TAGGING KEY

[Alphabetical Order]

🦡 - Aether 💟 - Alexis 🐝 - Amber 🔮 - Amity 🐉 - Artemis ❄️ - Ash 🌲 - Aspen 🗡️ - Avery 🌱- Basil 🦈 - Blahaj 🦌 - Briar 🐈 - Caliby 👓 - Charlie 🍀 - Clover 🏹 - Collei 🐶 - Conan ☀️ - Constance ☂️ - Cynthia 🤬 - Dante 😼 - Diona ⚡ - Dori 👿 - Draven 🌗 - Eclipse 🐄 - Elle 🦾 - Ena 🎃 - Ena (Demon) 🔥 - Ena (Diablada) 📺 - Ena (Static) 💕 - Enid 🦙 - Ganyu 😇 - Hermes 😈 - Jinx 🦊 - Juniper 🩸 - Kaori 🐼 - Kenny 💥 - Kiken 🧧 - Klee 🌸 - Lex 💎 - Lex (Sorcery) 🧙‍♀️ - Lucia 🐾 - Lyca 🏴 - Lyra 🍡 - Mitsuri 🖋️ - Monika ⌨️ - Monika (AD) 🥊 - Monika (DDFC) 📟 - Monika (Error) 🤺 - Monika (KNY / Slayer) 💖 - Monika (Magica) 🐍 - Monika (Naga / Monster) 👩‍💻 - Monika (Punk) 🚬 - Monika (Rivals) 🕷️ - Monika (Spiderverse) 🧙 - Monika (TOH / Glyph) 🎸 - Monimetal 🥑 - Nahida 🧁 - Natsuki 🥁 - Natsumetal 🌹 - Noelle 🧚 - Paimon 🧟‍♀️ - Qiqi 🦁 - Quill 🌊 - Runa 👹 - Salem 🦝 - Sayu 🐺 - Silver Wolf 🌤️ - Solei 🍌 - Split 🌿 - Tighnari 🦆 - Valkyrie 🧿 - Venir 🌌 - Vesper 💜 - Vinny 🀄 - Vulpe 🌨️ - Wynter 🌺 - Yae Miko 🔔 - Yao Yao 🍇 - Yui 🍷 - Yuri (Demon) 🎆 - Yurika 👽 - Zara 💿 - Zed 🥀 - Zuriel

🌑 - Blendy 🕴️ - Blurry 🎤 - New / Unnamed Alter 🎧 - Uncomfy

[mydailyvintagephotos]

Remembering

Doris Roberts 🌹🕊️

On her Birthday 🎂

October 4th 1925