#her sweet girls and cilla :((

[d-1-anas]

rest in peace to the most beautiful angel, you will be so missed i hope you’re with your daddy and benjamin now 🥺🤍

[from-memphis-with-love]

Songbird - Chapter 11 - Blue Christmas

Summary: It's a Christmas miracle.

Word count: ~4,800

If you like, you can also read here at A03.

Graceland in December was a sight that stopped traffic. Literally. Cars lined up just to see the lights - thousands of blue bulbs transforming the mansion into something from a fairy tale. Even the famous gates sparkled, wreaths bigger than truck tires hanging from each side.

But inside, the magic felt hollow.

The garland felt heavy in my hands as I wound it around the banister, scratchy against my skin like all the questions I wasn't asking. Through the ceiling, I could hear him pacing. He'd been at it for hours, wearing a path in the carpet upstairs like he was trying to escape something. Or maybe someone. These days, it was getting harder to tell the difference.

"He won't come down," Vernon told me quietly as I helped him sort through boxes of ornaments. Elvis's mother's favorites were wrapped in tissue paper, delicate glass bells and angels she'd collected over the years. They felt fragile in my hands, like all the promises that had started to wear thin. "Been up there since yesterday. Won't eat. Won't talk to nobody."

Great. One of those moods. The kind that usually ended with broken furniture and the Memphis Mafia scrambling to replace whatever Elvis had decided needed redecorating via karate chop.

The Christmas special he was meant to record next week hung over everything like a storm cloud. I tried not to think about how many times we'd been here before, how many promises had faded into Memphis air. Six months in this town, and what did I have to show for it? A man who wouldn't file his divorce papers and a growing suspicion that I was the biggest fool this side of the Mississippi.

The kitchen sounded like a henhouse with stage fright - all clucking tongues and whispered judgments barely disguised as holiday cheer. Patsy Lacker was at the counter rolling out sugar cookie dough like she had a personal vendetta against flour, while Joan Esposito perched on a stool nearby, watching everything with those sharp little eyes that never missed a chance to draw blood.

It was funny, really, how differently the men and women of Elvis's world treated me. The Memphis Mafia had adopted me like a kid sister - teaching me their secret handshakes, including me in their pranks, making sure I always had someone watching my back. But their wives? That was another story entirely. They lived in a careful hierarchy, like church pews arranged by seniority, and my presence had disrupted their whole order. After all, being Elvis's girl put you right at the top, whether you wanted it or not. Only Patsy seemed immune to the politics of it all. The others maintained a careful distance, their loyalty to Priscilla like a wall I couldn't scale. Joan was the worst - her devotion to "poor Cilla" practically a religion. Even Pat West, Red's wife, kept things cordially arctic, like we were diplomats from opposing countries forced to share the same embassy.

"The decorations look lovely," Joan said, her voice dripping sweet as artificial honey. "Almost like a real family Christmas."

And there it was. The knife, sliding in smooth between my ribs. Because that's what I wasn't, wasn't it? Real family. I was just the Chicago girl who'd wandered into Elvis Presley's orbit and forgotten how gravity worked.

"Thanks," I managed, focusing on hanging a silver bell that probably cost more than my first car. "Vernon picked out most of it."

"Oh, I'm sure he did." Joan's smile could have curdled milk. "Though I hear we'll have help with the rest of the decorating soon enough."

I turned, something cold settling in my stomach. "What do you mean?"

"You haven't heard?" Her eyes went wide with practiced innocence. "Oh dear, I thought surely someone would have told you. Priscilla's flying in for Christmas. She called this morning to discuss the arrangements."

The bell slipped from my fingers, hitting the floor with a sound like breaking promises. I watched it roll under the cabinet, unable to move, unable to breathe. The room tilted sideways, gravity doing funny things again. Around me, the kitchen seemed to shrink, the air going thick as molasses. Even Patsy's steady rolling pin fell silent.

"Joan." Patsy's voice cut through the fog, sharp as a slap. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

But I was already moving, my feet carrying me away from Joan's satisfied smirk, away from Patsy's concerned eyes, away from the truth I should have seen coming. The storeroom door closed behind me with a soft click, and then I was sliding down the wall, my knees finally giving up the fight with reality.

You ever have one of those moments when your whole world rearranges itself, like someone just flipped the record over and now everything's playing backward? That's what this felt like. All those nights Elvis had spent talking about 'someday' and 'soon' and 'when things settle down' - they crumbled like winter frost in the Tennessee sun.

The first sob caught me by surprise, tearing out of my throat like it had been waiting there all along. The second brought friends. By the third, I was full-on ugly crying, the kind that would have my mascara looking like it had tried to escape down my face.

"Oh, honey." The voice belonged to Sophie, though I hadn't heard her come in. She knelt beside me, not touching, just being there. Sometimes that's all you need - someone to witness your world falling apart.

"I'm such an idiot," I managed between hiccups. "All those promises, and I actually believed..."

"You're not an idiot," Sophie said firmly. "Men got a way of making you believe in fairy tales. Trust me, we've all been there."

"Not like this." I wiped my eyes, probably making the mascara situation worse. "I actually thought... God, I don't even know what I thought. That he'd leave her? File for divorce? Pick me?"

Sophie didn't answer right away. Above us, Elvis' footsteps continued their restless dance, like he was trying to walk away from something he couldn't escape. I knew the feeling.

"You wanna know the truth?" Sophie's voice was gentle but firm. "He probably loves you. Lord knows I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. But Mr. Elvis... he's like one of those fancy antique music boxes. Beautiful to look at, makes the prettiest sounds, but something inside is broken. Has been for a long time."

I laughed, but it came out more like a sob. "Great. So I'm in love with a broken music box who's about to play happy family with his wife for Christmas. Think Woolworth's sells cards for that?"

Sophie helped me fix my face before heading back out - a lost cause if there ever was one, but at least now I looked less like a raccoon that had lost a fistfight with its mascara. The kitchen had cleared out, thank God and all His angels. Even Joan had found somewhere else to spread her particular brand of Christmas cheer.

But the calm didn't last long. Around six, the storm hit wearing Chanel No. 5 and a fur coat that probably cost more than my yearly salary back in Chicago.

"Oh!" Ann Beaulieu's voice carried from the foyer like a perfectly pitched arrow. "Vernon, the decorations are simply lovely. Almost like old times."

Almost like old times. There was that word again - almost. Story of my life lately. Almost good enough, almost family, almost the one he'd choose.

I tried to make myself scarce, I really did. But at Graceland, there's no such thing as invisible. Not when you're the other woman. Not when every step you take echoes with whispers about whose bed you warm at night. Not when Elvis Presley's mother-in-law can smell her daughter's side of the bed on your skin.

Ann's smile could have frozen hell over. "How... enterprising of you to help with the decorations." Her eyes swept over me like she was calculating exactly how many Hail Marys it would take to cleanse the house of my presence. "Though I'm sure my Cilla will want to make some changes when she arrives. She never did like so much tinsel."

The thing about being hit by a truck is that at least it's quick. This? This was like death by a thousand perfectly manicured paper cuts.

"Mrs. Beaulieu." I managed what I hoped passed for a smile. "I was just finishing up."

"Oh, don't leave on my account." Her voice dripped false sweetness. "It’s nice having… everyone here.”

Above us, the pacing stopped. In the sudden silence, you could almost hear the sound of my heart cracking. Or maybe that was just another Christmas ornament hitting the floor - I'd lost count of how many I'd dropped since Joan's little bombshell.

That's when Red appeared, looking like he'd rather face down an angry mob than be stuck in this particular moment. "Boss wants to see you," he told me quietly. "Says it's important."

Ann's stare burned into my back as I headed for the stairs, each step feeling like a walk of shame. The word "whore" might as well have been painted on my forehead in neon. These were the stairs I climbed every night to his bed - our secret mapped out in carpet fibers and creaking wood. Now, with Ann's eyes following my ascent, I could barely keep my lunch down. The taste of bile mixed with the lingering sweetness of the candy cane I'd been nervously sucking on earlier, making my stomach roll.

My hands trembled as I reached his door. When I wasn't around the wives, when it was just Elvis and me, everything felt right. Natural. Like breathing. But under Ann's gaze, every step felt dirty. Every touch we'd shared seemed tainted. And still, God help me, I wanted him. Even now, even with shame burning my cheeks and judgment following my footsteps, my body hummed with anticipation of seeing him.

"Get in here," he said when I knocked, his voice rough around the edges. Whatever he took was wearing off, then. Perfect timing, as always.

Elvis stood by the window, still wearing yesterday's clothes, tension rolling off him in waves. The room smelled like cologne and something sharper - whatever Dr. Nick had last prescribed to keep the demons at bay. Even disheveled, even strung out, he was beautiful enough to stop my heart. That was the real curse of loving Elvis Presley - he could look like heaven while leading you straight to hell.

"Your mother-in-law's here," I said, aiming for casual and probably missing by a mile. "Really spreading holiday cheer, that one."

He didn't laugh. Didn't even turn around. Just kept staring out at all those blue lights like they held answers to questions he wasn't ready to ask.

"When were you gonna tell me?" The words came out steadier than I felt. "About her coming home for Christmas. Or was I supposed to find out from Joan's helpful little announcement in front of God and everybody?"

His shoulders tensed, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "It ain't what you think."

"No?" I laughed, but it came out all wrong. "Then please, Elvis, tell me what it is. Because from where I'm standing, it looks an awful lot like you're playing both sides of the record."

"The Colonel thinks–"

"Oh, the Colonel thinks?" Now the laugh was real, but it had edges sharp enough to cut. "Well, that makes everything better. Tell me, does the Colonel think about how it feels to help decorate a Christmas tree for another woman's homecoming? Does he think about how it feels to be the fool who believed all those pretty lies about 'soon' and 'just a little longer'?"

He turned then, those blue eyes darker than usual. Even angry - especially angry - he was devastating. His silk shirt was half-unbuttoned, revealing that triangle of chest hair that never failed to make my mouth go dry. Six months, and still the sight of him could knock the air from my lungs.

"They weren't lies," he said, voice dropping to that dangerous register that always made heat pool low in my belly.

"Really? Because those divorce papers are still sitting in your drawer, gathering dust like all your other broken promises."

Something flickered across his face - guilt maybe, or just annoyance at being called out. He moved closer, and Lord help me, my body responded like it always did. That's the thing about desire - it doesn't care about broken hearts or wounded pride. It just wants what it wants.

"C'mere," he said, his voice pure velvet now. When I didn't move, he reached for my arm. "Valley, baby, let me explain–"

I jerked away. "Don't 'Valley baby' me. Not now. Not when your wife is flying in to act like I'm not even here while I've been doing everything around here, thinking–"

His hands caught me then, spinning me toward the bathroom. The door slammed behind us, and suddenly we were face to face in front of that damned mirror - the one that had witnessed too many of his mood swings, too many of Dr. Nick's "solutions," too many moments when Elvis Presley tried to recognize himself behind his own eyes.

"Look," he growled, his hands gripping my shoulders. His chest pressed against my back, solid and warm, and I could feel his heart hammering through both our clothes. "Look at us."

I did. God help me, I did. He loomed over me like some beautiful avenging angel, all wild eyes and barely contained energy. His height made me feel small, delicate - exactly the kind of woman I'd never wanted to be. But my body had other ideas. Every point of contact between us felt electric. His hands on my shoulders. His breath on my neck. The solid weight of him pressed against me, making promises I knew he wouldn't keep.

"You see that?" His voice was rough, desperate. One hand slid down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "You see how right this is? How right we are?"

My own reflection looked like a stranger - cheeks flushed, eyes too bright, lipstick smeared from where I'd been biting my lip. My chest rose and fell too quickly, betraying how much I wanted this, wanted him, even now. We looked like what we were: a disaster waiting to happen. A tragedy dressed up in silk and perfume.

"All I see," I said, my voice shaking, "is a man who won't choose. Who keeps one foot in the past while promising me a future that'll never happen."

His hands tightened on my shoulders. "You don't understand–"

"Then make me understand!" I tried to turn but he held me firm, keeping me facing our reflection. "Make me understand why you signed those papers but won't file them. Why you tell me you love me but won't let her go. Why you're letting your wife come home for Christmas while I skulk around like a–like some common whore!"

"God damn it, woman," he growled, his lips brushing my ear. His chest hair tickled my neck where my sweater had slipped, and I couldn't help the small sound that escaped me. One of his hands slid lower, spanning my waist, pulling me tighter against him. "Tell me this isn't worth fighting for."

We did look right together, that was the hell of it. His dark beauty a perfect contrast to my softer features. Even our clothes seemed to complement each other - his green silk shirt against my red sweater, like some Christmas card from hell. But it was more than that. It was the way we fit, like two pieces of a puzzle nobody else could solve. His height made me feel delicate without making me feel weak. My curves softened his sharp edges. Even our breathing had synchronized, like our bodies knew something our hearts were too scared to admit.

"Stop it," I whispered, but my resolve was crumbling like sugar in rain. His hands were everywhere now, possessive, demanding, making promises his heart never seemed to keep. One slipped beneath my sweater, his rings cold against my overheated skin, and I arched into his touch despite myself.

The kiss, when it came, was violent. All teeth and tongues and months of complications. I bit his lip hard enough to hurt, tasting copper, and he growled - actually growled - spinning me around to press me against the sink. His hips pinned me in place, and Lord help me, I could feel exactly what I did to him. What he did to me.

His hands tangled in my hair, tugging my head back to expose my throat. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice rough as gravel. "Fighting this like you don't want it just as bad as I do."

For one heated moment, I let myself forget everything. Joan's smirk, Ann's contempt, the pile of unsigned divorce papers that represented every broken promise between us. I let myself get lost in the feeling of his mouth on my neck, his hands possessive on my hips, the solid weight of him pressing me into the counter. My fingers found the buttons of his shirt, needing to touch, to claim, to prove something I couldn't quite name.

But then I caught our reflection again - me, disheveled and wanting, him, beautiful and impossibly distant even in this intimate moment. Reality crashed back like a bucket of ice water.

"No." This time when I pushed him away, I meant it. "I’m not gonna be your dirty secret anymore."

I fled the bathroom on shaking legs, my lipstick smeared across my mouth like evidence of a crime. In the bedroom, I grabbed my purse, needing to be anywhere but here. My skin still tingled where he'd touched me, and I hated myself for wanting more. For always wanting more.

"Valerie, wait–"

"For what?" I whirled to face him. The sight of him nearly undid my resolve - shirt half-unbuttoned, hair mussed from my hands, that look in his eyes that always made me weak. "For her to come home? For you to finally make up your mind? For hell to freeze over?"

His face twisted with something that might have been pain, but I was done trying to read the emotions behind those beautiful eyes. Done trying to decode every expression, every gesture, every cotton candy promise.

"I'm going home," I said, my voice steady despite everything. "To Chicago. Where I belong."

My hands shook as I threw clothes into my suitcase, not caring what got wrinkled or crushed. A pair of boots tumbled from the top shelf of the closet - the ones Elvis had bought me last month, soft brown leather that probably cost more than three months' rent back home. They landed at my feet like an accusation, and the memory hit me like a physical blow: his face lighting up as I tried them on, the way he'd knelt to help me with the buckles, how he'd kissed his way up my leg afterward until I forgot about everything but him.

I kicked them aside, ignoring the sting of tears.

"Going somewhere?"

I spun around to find Jerry in the doorway, his face a mask of carefully controlled concern. Asking me that question would get him in trouble with the boss, I knew, but Jerry always did have a soft spot for me. Behind him, I could hear the sounds of Graceland settling into evening - distant Christmas carols, the clatter of dishes, Ann Beaulieu's voice carrying up from below like smoke.

"Chicago," I said, shoving another sweater into the already overstuffed bag. "Before I completely lose what's left of my dignity."

"Val..." He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. His eyes took in my smeared makeup, my trembling hands, the chaos I was making of my packing. "At least wait until morning. Weather's turning bad, and–"

"If I stay until morning, I'll never leave." I yanked the zipper closed with enough force to break it. "And we both know I gotta leave."

Jerry was quiet for a moment, watching me try to lift the suitcase with shaking hands. Finally, he sighed. "Let me drive you to the airport."

"I can manage."

"Wasn't asking." He took the suitcase from me with gentle firmness. "Plus, someone's gotta make sure you don't turn that Mustang into a Christmas wreck. You're shaking worse than Elvis after three cups of coffee."

He really was risking his hide. I had to let him.

The drive to the airport was silent except for the rhythmic swish of windshield wipers battling the freezing rain. Memphis looked different somehow - all those gaudy Christmas lights blurred by weather and tears I refused to let fall. Each mile put more distance between me and Graceland, but I could still feel Elvis's hands on my skin, still taste him on my lips. Still see his reflection behind mine in that damned mirror.

"He's gonna come after you, you know," Jerry said finally, as we pulled up to the departure terminal.

"No," I said, staring at the airport's glowing signs through the rain-streaked windshield. "He won't. He's got what he really wants coming home for Christmas."

Jerry helped me with my bags, then surprised me by pulling me into a bear hug. "You're good people, Val. Don't let this place make you forget that."

Two hours later, I was on a plane bound for Chicago, watching Memphis disappear beneath the clouds. Somewhere down there, in a mansion wrapped in blue lights, Elvis Presley was probably still staring out his window, waiting for his wife to come home.

*

Deena's Christmas party was in full swing by the time I arrived, her little apartment strung with multicolored lights that made it look like a carnival had thrown up all over her living room. Back home less than six hours, and already Memphis felt like some fever dream I'd finally woken up from. Like maybe I'd imagined it all - the mansion, the music, the way Elvis had looked at me in that bathroom mirror just hours ago.

"Val!" She squealed, pulling me into a hug that smelled like sugar cookies and cheap wine. "You made it! Though you look like hell warmed over."

"Thanks." I managed a weak smile. "Just what every girl wants to hear."

"Oh honey." She steered me toward the kitchen, where a punch bowl full of something violently red held court. "Here. This'll help. It's mostly rum, which seems like what you need right now."

The party spun around me in a blur of familiar faces and questions I wasn't ready to answer. Our old crowd from the jazz clubs, college friends, some neighbors, a few of Deena's cousins - all of them trying very hard not to stare at the woman who'd run away with Elvis Presley and lived to tell.

"So..." Deena's cousin Marie sidled up, eyes bright with curiosity. "Is it true? About you and... you know..."

"Marie!" Deena shot her a warning look, but the damage was done. The floodgates opened.

"What's he really like?"

"Is Graceland really as big as they say?"

"Does he actually eat those peanut butter and banana sandwiches?"

"Is his hair really that black?"

"How many Cadillacs are there really?"

"Did you meet Priscilla?"

That last one, from someone in the back, hit like a slap. The room got quiet fast, everyone suddenly very interested in their drinks.

"He's nice," I said finally, the words tasting like ash. "And he's just a man. Just a man who..." I couldn't finish. Couldn't find the words to explain how someone could be both everything you ever wanted and everything that could destroy you.

The party lurched on like a record with a skip in it - moments of almost-normal interrupted by sudden, jarring reminders. Every time someone mentioned Vegas or Memphis or music, the room would get quiet, everyone stealing glances my way like I might shatter.

"But what about–" Marie started again, but Tommy from the jazz circuit cut her off.

"Remember that time at the Blue Note?" Deena jumped in, grateful for the change of subject. She looked ot be about three glasses of punch in and determined to drag me out of my funk. "When that guy kept hitting on you and you told him you only dated men who could sing better than you?"

"And then he tried to sing 'My Way' and sounded like a cat in a blender," Tommy added, grinning.

Despite myself, I laughed. The punch was starting to help, or maybe it was just being home, surrounded by people who knew me before I became 'Elvis's girl.' People who remembered when I was just Val from the jazz clubs. Val the weekend music teacher to underprivileged kids.

Tommy had brought his guitar, and somehow we'd ended up having an impromptu sing-along. Christmas songs morphed into old standards, and for a while, I could almost pretend the last six months had been some elaborate dream. My voice felt rusty but real - no Vegas glitter required.

"Do 'Blue Christmas!" someone called out.

"No Elvis songs!" Deena shouted back, but I was already shaking my head.

"It's fine." I took another swig of punch. "I can handle a little Christmas music without falling apart."

"Atta girl," Tommy said, starting the opening chords.

It felt good, singing without all that weight. No Colonel watching from the wings, no pressure to be perfect, no eyes following my every move. Just friends and music and enough rum to make the edges soft. I was hamming it up, perching on Tommy's knee while he played, making everyone laugh with my exaggerated wiggle.

"See?" Deena nudged me after we finished. "You still got it. Chicago's been missing you something fierce. Those Memphis folks can sit on it and rotate…”

"Speaking of Memphis," Marie started, but this time it was my turn to cut her off.

"Yes, his hair really is that nice. Yes, he has more cars than God. Yes, the peanut butter and banana sandwiches are real. Yes, I’ve met Priscilla.” I winced at that one. “And yes–" I took another drink, feeling reckless, "he's exactly as pretty as everyone says he is. Probably prettier."

The room erupted in laughter and whistles. Someone called out, "Details! We need details!"

"Oh no," Deena waggled her finger. "No kiss and tell in my house. Besides--"

"Shhh!" Marie suddenly shouted from the couch. "Everyone shut up! Look who's on TV!"

The room went quiet as death. There he was - my Elvis, standing in front of Graceland's gates. He looked tired, the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that even TV makeup couldn't hide. Behind him, those damn Christmas lights made everything look underwater.

"Turn it up!" someone called.

The music cut out, replaced by a breaking news bulletin. The room went quiet as the announcer's voice filled the space:

"In entertainment news tonight, sources confirm that Elvis Presley has officially filed for divorce from wife Priscilla. The papers, filed earlier this week in Memphis, cite irreconcilable differences. This comes as a surprise to many, especially given reports that Mrs. Presley was expected to return to Graceland for the holidays..."

The punch cup slipped from my numb fingers, shattering on Deena's linoleum floor in a splash of red that looked like blood. Someone gasped. Someone else whispered "Holy shit."

"Val?" Deena's voice seemed to come from very far away. "Honey, you okay?"

But I couldn't answer. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. On the TV screen, photos of Elvis and Priscilla flashed by - their wedding, public appearances, that last photo from Vegas. And there, in the corner, a smaller headline scrolling: "Sources suggest new relationship with Chicago singer may have precipitated split."

"Oh my God," Marie whispered. "Val, did you know?"

No. No, I hadn't known. I'd run away thinking... but he'd already... and Priscilla was coming home to...

"I need some air," I managed, pushing through the crowd of stunned faces. Behind me, I could hear Deena trying to maintain order, but the room had erupted into chaos.

"Give her space!" "Did you see his face when-" "The papers said earlier this week-" "That's why he let her go today-"

On her tiny balcony, the Chicago winter bit at my face, but I barely felt it. All I could think about was Elvis, alone in that blood-warm Memphis night, watching me drive away. All I could hear was his voice: "You don't understand-"

And I hadn't understood. Not at all.

The worst part? He'd finally done the right thing, and I hadn't trusted him enough to wait and see. I'd run away just when he was finally ready to choose me.

Inside, I could hear the TV still going, dissecting the biggest entertainment story of the year. But all I could think about was a Christmas tree in Graceland, wrapped in blue lights that probably looked a lot like tears right about now.

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[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been A Long Time Coming: Chapter 5

A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long. I've been dealing with a lot of writers block and I'm honestly not even sure this is any good. I have so much for Elvis and Viv that I want to get to. I hope people continue to read it. Or I'll just write it for me. But if you do read it, please please please leave a comment. I live for comments.

Need to catch up? Here is my masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, cussing, oral sex (m receiving), swallowing, teensy bit of angst

Word count: ~2.4k

Oh, Elvis, she thinks. Why won't you come and rescue me from myself?

******

In December of 1962, Elvis brings Priscilla over from Germany in an attempt to stop thinking about Vivian. He hosts a New Year's Eve party and invites everyone, including her. He's hoping that seeing Viv and Priscilla in the same room will help him realize that Viv is not what he's looking for. He's been thinking about it a lot and honestly, she's too independent anyway. She probably wouldn't make a good wife. Priscilla, on the other hand, is young enough to still be molded and she seems ready to do whatever he asks. Isn't that what a wife should be? He repeats it like a mantra: not Vivian. Not Vivian. Not Vivian.

At the party, Priscilla and Viv reconnect briefly. He forgot they had known each other in Germany. Elvis nods and smiles awkwardly and then she turns to move around the party, leaving him with Cilla by his side. For the most part, he's successful in staying focused on Cilla. He catches glimpses of Viv briefly as she walks through the crowd, always with a drink in her hand.

Finally, he finds himself next to her at the table with the food in the dining room with no one else around.

"You're really serious about this thing with Priscilla?" Viv asks with her eyebrows raised.

"Yeah. Why?"

"She's a teenager."

"She makes sense to me, Viv." Vivian shrugs and concedes.

"I can't argue with that. She's not very complicated, so I believe that she makes sense to you." Elvis turns to look at her suddenly. Is she jealous?

"That's not fair, Viv."

"Is it not? I'm sorry. I just think you need someone more like..." She stops short of what she was going to say. He has an idea of how that sentence would've ended, though. "It doesn't matter. You like simplicity."

Something between rage and frustration bubbles up inside him.

"Which one of my friends are you fucking tonight, Viv?" He immediately regrets saying it as her mouth pops open and her eyes get glassy. "I'm sorry-"

"No, that's fair. Maybe Red." She turns and walks away from him quickly.

"Viv!" He calls after her but she doesn't turn around. "Goddamnit."

"You okay?" Elvis hears Cilla and works to recover his facade, turning to face her.

"Oh yeah, it's nothing, baby." She smiles and he is filled with the desire to take the stairs two at a time and go to bed. Alone.

******

Vivian sits in the bathroom trying to compose herself after her conversation with Elvis. She's a joke to him. And this girl, this Priscilla, she's what he wants. She'll never be that. She wasn't that sweet and demure even when she was 17.

Someone knocks on the bathroom door and she wipes her tears, assessing her makeup in the mirror, and opens it. It's Red. But despite what she said earlier, she pushes past him and goes straight to the front door. She has no desire to see Elvis and Priscilla kiss at midnight.

******

Elvis and Vivian avoid each other as much as possible before the spring of '63 when they both pick up the film Fun in Acapulco. Viv still hasn't managed to land another speaking part, but her work as an extra keeps her paid enough to eat. And when it doesn't, Elvis makes sure she's taken care of.

Filming the same movie means being on set together and after their last encounter, it's pretty awkward. Still, when Elvis finds himself in a particular predicament, she's the only one he can find to help.

His least favorite part of this movie is the pair of tiny blue shorts they have him wearing in several scenes. They're a lot like the ones from Blue Hawaii, but for some reason these just won't come off, especially when they're wet.

That's how Elvis finds himself in this situation. He has to go the bathroom. Badly. But they're in the middle of filming. Once the director finally calls cut, he's absolutely ready to burst. He makes his way to his trailer, frantically trying to figure out how to get his shorts off. Thats when he sees Vivian.

"Viv!" She stops dead in her tracks, recognizing his voice. She turns to him.

"What, Elvis?"

"I need your help." His desperation is palpable.

"With what?"

"Just come with me, please." He grabs her hand and practically drags her to his trailer. Once inside, he shuts the door and turns to her. "I have to pee so bad I might die."

"Okay? What does that have to-"

"I can't get these fucking shorts off, Viv."

"Oh, shit."

"I'm going to piss myself."

"Well, they're already wet." He looks at her with panic on his face.

"Are you gonna help me or not?!" She tries to focus and make sure she doesn't laugh.

"Yes, come here." She tries to tug on the shorts, but they don't budge.

"What if I kinda lift them off of me before you pull."

"Yeah, let's try that." Vivian gets on her knees in front of him to pull when he says to. He looks down at her on her knees in front of him and looks at the ceiling. He whispers to himself.

"Don't get hard. Don't get hard. Don't get hard."

"What's that?" Viv asks.

"Oh! Nothing." He takes a deep breath and tries to focus on what's happening.

"Okay, I'm gonna count to three. You lift them and I'll pull down. 1... 2... 3!" She gives his shorts a firm tug and they come down to his thighs. What neither of them realized about their plan is that pulling the shorts down means his dick is going to be right in her face.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry." She tries to look away, but he whimpers, trying really hard not to pee on her. Finally, she gets the shorts down his legs and off and he runs into the bathroom. She sits in the living area with his shorts in her hand, laughing quietly.

He opens the door a little and hollers to her.

"Toss me the shorts. I think I can get them back on." But he can't. After about 12 minutes of struggling, he comes out with them stuck on his thighs, his hands covering himself. "Can you...?"

"Yes, I will. Come here." He waddles over to her with his hand still covering himself. He goes back to praying his body won't respond to the image of Vivian on her knees in front of him. He's doing okay, until she gets the shorts up higher and she puts her hand on him gently to try to stuff him into the shorts. He whimpers at her touch and becomes noticeably hard.

"God, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay; it happens, Elvis." She keeps trying to pull the shorts up despite his massive rock-hard erection.

Just then, there's a sharp knock on the door.

"Elvis, we need you back on set. Now." It's the director.

"Uh, just a second?"

"We don't have any more seconds. Wrap up what you're doing and come out. Now." They can tell by the director's tone that he assumes Elvis must be in there having sex with someone. Elvis is annoyed. That would be a much better excuse than what's actually happening.

He looks at Vivian frantically, his dick still standing at full attention with her on her knees trying to tuck it into the shorts. She whispers.

"It's not gonna fit like this. Can you... fix it?"

"Make it go away, you mean? I don't really have time to use my hand. And I can't think it away. That never works for me." It does work sometimes, but he knows it won't with the image of Viv on her knees.

"That settles it, then."

"Settles wh- OH MY GOD VIVIAN." Elvis falls backwards and braces himself as Vivian wraps her mouth around his cock and starts moving. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

He moans softly as she pulls off of him to explain.

"You need this gone. This'll work and it'll be faster than your hand. You want me to stop?" She looks up at him with his dick in her hand.

"No..."

"This is purely functional." She pulls him deep into her throat and sucks on him. His eyes roll back with the sensation of her warm little mouth on him. He's dreamed of this for so long, but the reality is better than he ever could've imagined. Her mouth moves skillfully up and down, complemented by her hand moving his foreskin back and forth. She licks a circle around the head and then deep throats him again. He grunts as his orgasm begins to build and he knows he won't last much longer.

The director pounds on the door again and hollers something, but Elvis is incapable of listening. Viv is working him with her mouth and hand, pulling out all her tricks to get him off as quickly as possible.

"Oh, god, Viv... that's so good..." He moans as she gets him closer and closer to the edge. He's gripping the counter behind him so tightly that his knuckles are white. She pulls back off of him and looks up at him with her big blue eyes, licking the precum off the tip of him.

"Let go, baby. You have to cum. Now." Something about her telling him what to do pushes him the last little bit and he tumbles into a mind-blowing orgasm, shooting his release down her throat. She swallows it easily, sucking until he relaxes, and then stops.

"Holy fuck, Viv..."

"Ah ha!" She cheers as she's finally able to get his shorts up and tuck his package into the front. Standing up, he looks into her eyes and wants to kiss her so badly. Still, despite what just happened, he's not sure he can.

"We're gonna talk about this later."

"Okay."

Just as the director is about to knock again, Elvis opens the door and walks out.

"What? I had to go to the bathroom."

******

Viv waits about ten minutes and then makes her way back to where she's supposed to be filming, in shock over what just happened. And now he wants to talk about it? What is there to say?

******

Elvis doesn't see Vivian again until the summer after the shorts incident. He can't decide if she's purposefully avoiding him or just busy, but she stays away. Part of him wonders if she's avoiding the conversation they were supposed to have after the blowjob. It never happened.

In July, Elvis is in Memphis just before he leaves for California to meet his costars and start filming his next movie. He comes across Vivian on Beale street.

"Viv!" When she sees him, she looks for an escape and doesn't see one, so she waits for him to catch up to where she is. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I've just been really busy."

"Look, I really need to talk to you. I'm leaving for California at 3. Will you come with me to Graceland? Please?" She looks around again for an exit and then looks back at him.

"Yeah."

"Good!" He grabs her hand and practically drags her to his car. They make small talk about what they've both been doing for the whole drive. Once they get to Graceland, Elvis settles them into the tv room.

"Are we ever going to talk about the head you gave me?" Viv shifts in her seat, obviously uncomfortable.

"What is there to say, Elvis? I sucked your dick to get it back in your shorts. That's it."

"That's it?!" He thinks back to the incredible orgasm he had at her doing. He wouldn't mind it happening again.

"Yeah? That's it." All of a sudden, something else bubbles up inside him and he stands up.

"VIVIAN WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

"Wrong with me?!"

"Do I really mean so little to you that you can suck my cock and have absolutely no feelings about it?!"

"It was just to-"

"Get my shorts on. I know. Why am I just a sex object to you? Something to play with when you've been drinking?"

"What?" He's not talking about the blowjob anymore.

"Why do I mean nothing to you?"

"Elvis... I-"

"Why can't you see how much I-"

"Will you let me finish?!" He sits back down on the couch seething. "You don't mean nothing to me. You mean too much to me."

"Too much? What does that mean?" Vivian rolls her eyes and he's somewhere between wanting to slap her and wanting to kiss her.

"Elvis. Do you remember what I told you when you got in the fight with Joe?"

"Which part?"

"The part about how if I let myself, I could fall in love with you?" His heart pounds wildly in his chest.

"Yeah?"

"I've wanted you since the moment I met you. And not just for sex. Sex is like... I don't even know what it means for me but it's not love and you... I..." His stomach turns over and he's overcome with a need to take her in his arms and show her what love can be. Is she finally admitting what he's felt for all these years?

"Viv." He whispers it and cups her cheek in his hand. She leans into his touch. Just then, there's a knock on the door. Elvis curses loudly and then gets up to answer it. It's the Colonel.

"My boy, we need to head to the airport. You need to be in California soon." Elvis nods and then turns to Vivian, who has followed him up to the foyer. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"We will finish this when I get back, okay?"

She nods.

But he doesn't come back. Not this version of him anyway. The costar he goes to California to meet is a woman named Ann Margaret. And when he meets her, Vivian and all her complications become a distant memory.

But Priscilla? Priscilla won't go down so easily. She moved to the United States to marry him and she won't be deterred by the small matter of him being in love with another woman.

Elvis is trapped between three women and Vivian? She's the quietest of the three with what she assumes is the smallest claim on his heart.

She fades into the background easily, watching the feud that happens between Ann Margaret and Priscilla, her love for him never diminishing, but they never finish the conversation that they started.

******

Until next time!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[eff4freddie]

hello, my dearest 💜

with this ask I challenge you to write a ficlet (or anything bigger if you want) inspired by this screenshot:

may the writing muses be with you,

kissing you on your forehead (if you allow it not then just waving from the distance!)

Oh this is perfect, it actually came through just as I was finishing off For the Glory of Rome and it’s inspired a little post-scene. Thank you @iamasaddie ❤️❤️

The General and his lady pulled the door closed behind them, the muted moans of the revellers chasing them up the stairs. Lucilla stood by the bed, removing her bracelets, lifting her hair from her back.

‘You are not sated, my love,’ she observed, remembering how the nubile little handmaid had nearly collapsed under the force of the pleasure the General had wrung from the sweet girl’s limbs.

Her husband waved her away, sitting heavy at the end of the bed as he pulled his tunic from across his shoulders.

‘Cilla, my lady, I don’t know what came over me.’

‘She was young and sweet and dripping for you,’ Lucilla observed, mildly. She stepped toward him as he stretched his arm to her, pulling her into him to rest his head at her breast.

‘She was sweet, but you are beautiful,’ he stated.

‘I need no flattery, my love.’

‘Allow me the indulgence,’ he whispered regardless, his fingertips ghosting over the silken fabric adorning her skin.

‘She was so new to this world…to take you into her mouth,’ Lucilla commented, smiling as her husband shivered at the memory.

‘She knew not of her own obscenity,’ the General agreed.

‘Mmm…’ she murmured. ‘And yet, I find myself perhaps a little jealous.’

At this Acacius snapped his gaze to his wife, his eyes narrowed.

‘I would not allow you to debase yourself, my lady,’ he swore. She rested a hand on his jaw, rubbing gently at the wires she found there.

‘No, my love,’ she agreed, lifting her dress to reveal her naked cunt to him, the way she glistened with slick, observing with pride the way his eyes brightened and his breathing deepened as he encountered her scent. ‘But you have been known to, on occasion,’ she reminded him, a yelp of delight slipping from her lips when he grabbed for her.

[aceinejghafa]

From Six of Crows:

“Some people see a magic trick and say, ‘Impossible!’ They clap their hands, turn over their money, and forget about it ten minutes later. Other people ask how it worked. They go home, get into bed, toss and turn, wondering how it was done. It takes them a good night’s sleep to forget all about it. And then there are the ones who stay awake, running through the trick again and again, looking for that skip in perception, the crack in the illusion that will explain how their eyes got duped; they’re the kind who won’t rest until they’ve mastered that little bit of mystery for themselves. I’m that kind.”

This quote says a lot of things about Kaz, but I’m going to focus on one aspect: Kaz doesn’t believe the magic trick. He can’t say “oh that was cool” and forget about it because he needs to know how. He needs to understand how he was fooled, how the trick works, how it fits into his worldview. He can't rest until he figures it out.

Magic is when something happens that we can’t explain. Kaz needs to find the explanation.

But we also have this quote:

“The harbour wind had lifted [Inej’s] dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in this world.”

“A boy again” — this is suggesting that Kaz’s disillusionment with magic is because of everything that happened to him because of Pekka. Pekka fooled Kaz and Jordie; Kaz failed to figure out what was going on. It seemed like magic, but then it wasn’t. Now, Kaz doesn’t believe that there’s magic anymore. Pekka shattered his belief that things could be inexplicable.

But Inej is the exception to this: she makes him feel like there’s still magic in the world. Kaz can’t explain her (or doesn’t want to).

Now, Kaz often seems to function by figuring out what drives people and using that to his advantage.

“It was a guess. Pekka’s pride in the Dime Lions is plenty predictable. Kid probably has a thousand lions to play with and a giant wooden lion to ride around on.” “How did you even know he had a child?” “I figured it out that night at Van Eck’s house. Rollins wouldn't stop flapping his gums about the legacy he was building. I knew he had a country house, liked to leave the city. I’d just figured he had a mistress stashed somewhere. But what he said that night made me think again.” “And that he had a son, not a daughter? That was a guess too?” “An educated one. He named his new gambling hall the Kaelish Prince. Had to be a little red-headed boy. And what kid isn’t fond of sweets?”

Kaz figures out what motivates Pekka — the explanation for Pekka’s behaviour — and uses that to beat him.

He even does that with his own people, like Big Bolliger at the beginning of SoC:

“You’re lazy. I know it. Everyone knows it. So I had to ask myself why my laziest bouncer was getting up early twice a week to walk two extra miles to Cilla’s Fry for breakfast, especially when the eggs are so much better at the Koperoom.”

That’s how he realises that Big Bolliger is a traitor. He analyses people and figures out how they work, friend and foe alike. That’s why he wins.

But Kaz doesn’t know how Inej works — if he did, she wouldn’t be magic, would she? Kaz trusts Inej to gather secrets for him, even though he can't control her the way he controls everyone else.

And then we have a quote about Inej:

“But what about the rest of us? What about the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls? We learn to hold our heads as if we wear crowns. We learn to wring magic from the ordinary. That was how you survived when you weren’t chosen, when there was no royal blood in your veins. When the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway.”

“To wring magic from the ordinary.” Inej is talking about herself, but that's what she does for Kaz, too — she shows him the magic in the ordinary. She tells him that not everything is ordinary; not everything can be explained; not everything is a magic trick. Sometimes, it’s just magic.

This is why I am obsessed with Kanej. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[mrsnancywheeler]

i was thinking abt that one scene in priscilla where elvis tells that girl that he likes the perfume she’s wearing and then she says it’s Chanel no 5 (literally the same perfume cilla uses)

and like i was thinking, this scenario but with billy and “his” girl. like he could be talking to some random girl and then like be all flirty n shit and then he’s like omg that perfume is so nice (or something) and then the girl is like all smiles and giggles and happily tells him the name and the brand of the perfume and then once billy hears the name he recognizes it from seeing it in reader’s like bedroom or purse or something!

-🩰

imagining like this during one of those periods when they've had another blow up fight so you've gone back home, he's been able to push the need of having you around for a while with the writing, rehearsing, recording, the drinking, the drugs, the other girls, so the piece of him you were filling he's able to push away for a while. that's until he's flirting with one of the groupies and he likes that she smells familiar, he doesn't know why or how, but it feels comforting.

he's so close to her face, so close to kissing her and he's keeping that cocky smirk on his face, "nice perfume you got there." maybe if he has her it'll fill the void he's ignoring, the void of you.

she's smiling up at him, flashing a grin, "it's sweet honesty from avon." and boom, billy knows why it's so comforting. you refused to use anything else, you always had a bottle in your purse and one in the bedroom just in case. he misses being engulfed by it, misses you, the longing takes over. he needs you to come back, he can't function fully without your presence. he misses your laugh, messing around on the guitar while you smoked a cigarette on the floor, how animated you were when you talked, cuddling you in his bed, when you'd convince him to go swimming, he misses all of it. he's headed towards the nearest phone, trying to call you and you don't pick up. you always pick up. you're reliable, you're always at the phone when he calls, and now he's scared because maybe he's finally done it. he's told you how replaceable you were one too many times and you'd accepted it even though he was sure you weren't. you were like all the best and worst parts of him, he was attached to you and unbelievable amount.

so he's driving over to your house (more accurately the place your dad pays for) knocking on your front door and a friend of yours opens the door. she's rolling her eyes, sighing, yelling back at you, "he's here!" and he can't deny the way his heart skips a beat when you run up the door.

you've got a small spark of hope in your eyes, "billy!" before realizing you're not supposed to. even if you'd been eaten up inside because this call had taken longer then usual to happen.

"hi, baby." his face has the whisper of a smile on it, "I called."

then you're looking regretfully at the floor, that was the point, if he called you weren't supposed to answer. you were supposed to take care of yourself, but what could you do when he was driving all the way out here just to see you? it made you remember the best of times, made you immediately want to hop back into his car. he can see it on your face, that you'd done so on purpose. "billy..." you trail off and the suddenly you're crying. and he feels terrible.

"hey, come here." billy's playing with your hair, comforting arm around you. "let me take you out, baby. we can go to our place, get some burgers by the pier. need to spend some time with my favorite girl."

favorite, the word favorite rather than him saying 'his' girl irks you, maybe it shouldn't, but you don't want to fight again so you ignore it for now. "yeah, I'd like that." you're meeker after fights, softer when it's time to fix things. now you're playing with the buttons on his denim shirt, which he loves. "can I come back 'round?" you're not looking at him and he's smiling because he knows not to be worried this time, he's won her another highest of the highs with you.

"of course, baby. need my muse around." he's kissing you and you're back to being all smiley. you run inside to grab stuff and as he's standing on the doorstep he can hear your friend berating you for going back, but you don't have a care in the world. you've grown to need billy and you're feeling that lovely high that reminds you why again. before you're out the door back to him again. his arm around your waist as he pulls you with him, "you know, baby, that perfume smells real good on you."

you're smile is so bright, "really?" he's nodding and lighting you a cigarette as you climb into his car, driving off into a repeat of the cycle.

[priscillamills]

— basics ♡  

full name: priscilla mills

nicknames: 'cilla

gender: female

pronouns:;  she/her

sexual preference: heterosexual

birthdate & age: december 14th ; 31

birthplace: memphis, tennessee

zodiac sign: saggitarius

currently resides: fairford, wa

— appearance ♡

face & voice claim: vanessa hudgens

height: 5′3

eyes: brown

hair:  straight black hair

body art: a snake on her ankle, a star on her ear, the words 'cage or wings' on her shoulder, an angel on her left side, a flower on her right side, & a butterfly on the back of her neck

— personality traits ♡

traits: bubbly, sweet, compassionate, fun-loving, loving, sentimental, sexy

fears: losing those she loves, not being good enough.

hobbies: reading, knitting, sewing, painting, dance, yoga.

skills: drawing, playing piano & guitar.

— relationships ♡

mother: julia mills

father: aaron mills

siblings: an older brother named kingston (npc).

— favorite things ♡

ice cream flavour: strawberry

food: southern cooking

time of the day / night: night

season: fall

holiday: halloween & christmas

animal: dogs

colour: pastel pink

scent: vanilla, fresh peaches, cinnamon & brown sugar

musician/band: elvis presley

— misc. ♡

bad habits: drinking too much, being overly anxious and possessive.

a cherished item: a pearl necklace from her great grandmother

random fun fact: her father is the lawyer for the presley estate

random fun fact 2: she owns way too much elvis memorabilia

— bio ♡

priscilla comes a very high profile family where she's from in memphis, tennessee. her family founded one of the first law firms to ever hit Memphis and she grew up with a very lavish lifestyle, one that her father always wanted for his only daughter. however, things haven't always been easy for the southern belle. all her life she was always told what she had to be, nobody ever giving her the chance to tell them what she wanted to be, it was expected of her and her brother to continue the family practice, her brother proudly does so but priscilla always desired something more.

when she was in high school, she was always the party girl, always out late at night and always bringing home men that were more than undesirable for her parents, priscilla wasn't a stable girl but she was a popular girl, head cheerleader, dance team, and prom queen. she even went on to win, miss. tennessee two years running. meanwhile, she was feeling pressure from her parents to be this perfect representation of their family, you know the perfect daughter which was something she knew she could never be.

when it came time for priscilla to graduate high school, she did so on honors despite her "rebellious" ways as her parents put it. she went to school for law initially but that wasn't making her the least bit happy so when she switched majors it made her parents feel betrayed but nonetheless they supported her. After she decided to move and make her own living, her parents are still wanting to support her, paying for her lavish lifestyle, i guess you could call her spoiled but just don't say it to her face.

[pxtitxrosx]

Thinking it over as she sipped her own coffee, Charlie set her results aside and let them be out of mind for a while. Grateful for Cilla and her questions for their helping to distract her from her emotions. "Well... Sada can be cold, and I know some people are scared of her. Usually it's best just to steer clear. Skyler is a big nerd, don't let his over confidence fool you. And he will try and flirt with you. There's Zach, but I'm sure you've heard about him. I heard you came with with his twin brother. Um... there's my brothers, Jeremiah and JP. They're rough around the edges but don't let them scare you off. Ashton is the sweetest. He's really quiet but super friendly, and basically like an adopted brother himself. Ember is a lot, but she's well intentioned, Toby is..." Pausing to think over the right phrasing she gave a little shrug. "He's an amazing doctor, but he lacks some in bedside manner."

Pondering over who else she could think of, her face lit up a little as it came to her. "I think you'd really like Ria. Most people do, even Sada. She's like walking sunshine and we all love her for it." Moving to refill the other girl's mug with coffee, she rested on the counter as well. "There's Roman, too... he's... well... I guess he's kind of my boyfriend." They hadn't really put any labels on it, but then again, they hadn't really needed to. "You guys aren't even alone in being new. We had a couple of guys show up a few days ago. A soldier and a scientist. I haven't talked much to the first guy, but the Sev, the scientist, he's really sweet."

Rationed meals and unlimited coffee didn't sound so bad, and Cilla smiled at Charlie's little joke. "A coffee to die for," she added with an amused eye roll. She wondered if the apocalypse made the residents get along better or maybe the opposite. Or a combination of both, most likely. Sometimes, when people had no other choice, they learned to adapt and function despite the difficulties, but there was always a group of stubborn exceptions.

Cilla watched the other open her envelope as she sipped her coffee. Sure, she wished she had gotten the same result and had one virus less to worry about, but there was nothing she could do about it. "Yes! See? Like a bandaid," she confirmed with a nod, downing her drink. The mug now pushed aside, Cilla crossed her arms on the table and rested her chin on them. "Can you tell me more about the residents? Who to avoid, who can be trusted... I don't wanna be biased in my first impressions, but I'd be silly if I didn't ask."

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Ain't that something part 2

Part 1, part 3

Pairing: Austin!Elvis x fem reader, Oliva!Priscilla x reader. A!Elvis x O!Priscilla.

Requested: kinda

A/n: I have a few more things I want to add to this fanfic, so I'm gonna do a part 3, I hope you enjoy it. I tried lol. Also 'Ma' is Lisa's name for you

Warning: M/f/f, polyamorous relationship, breeding kink, degrading and praise kink, unplanned pregnancy, Fluff, oral sex (Fem receiving) spanking, hair pulling, creampie, cum eating, Elvis is free, unprotected sex, age gap(the reader is 19, Elvis is 32, and Priscilla is 22), Augst. Sex scene ahead, skip it if it makes you uncomfortable.

"Yes," Priscilla moans, back against the backboard of the black and gold-themed king-size bed, legs spread as you drag your tongue between her folds,finger deep in her pussy and twisting your waist as you fingering her.

Elvis's hips smacked into your already bruised ass as he traced kisses along your spine, your chest against the mattress, and your ass in the air. "G-good?" Priscilla asked, a moan slipping out as you swirled your tongue around her clit.

"Fuckin' wonderful, such a slut, letting me use her" Elvis grunted, cock drilling in you faster as he slaps your ass, making you yelp and moan into Priscilla's cunt. Her fingers tagging at your hair, gently, not wanting to hurt you.

"Want her pregnant, fill her with cum." Elvis groaned, pussy drunk. Priscilla watches her husband lose himself in the pleasure of you, his gaze on where you and he are connected before he looks at her.

"Yea?" Priscilla whined out, as a harsh suck comes to her clit.

Elvis takes his hands off your hips, put them by where your chest is on the bed and straightens his legs like a pushup position, and uses the strength in said legs to pound downwards into your pussy, heavy balls smack hard on your clit, the pain brings a pleasure you've come love. You fight to keep your ass in the air as he does this, uncontrollable moans and squeals leave your mouth, and into Priscilla's pussy, you thrust your finger into her faster hitting her G-spot and tongue lapping at her folds.

"Kiss me," Elvis pants out to Priscilla, close to busting inside of you but he won't cum, not until you and Cilla do. She leans closer to Elvis and pulls him into a kiss full of tongue, her hips bucking against your tongue, and Elvis pounding not letting up once. You rip your finger from her, leaving her empty but not for long, you stick your tongue as far as you can reach and swirls it around her walls, nose rubbing against her clit. Finally, she comes, covering your tongue and chin.

"Fuck!" Priscilla gasped after she comes down from her high and with a sharp roll of Elvis's hips, the knot inside you snaps, your cum coats his cock, the overwhelming feeling of your pussy clamping down on him finally pushes him over the break of pure pleasure ans his warm cum fills you so much a ring of yours and his cum wraps around his cock.

"Such a good girl, our pretty girl" Elvis said after he caught his breath, slowly pulling out causing a bit of his seed to drip out of your beat up pussy.

Priscilla hums in agreement as she strokes your hair, a loving smile on her face as she watches you gather your strength after such a harsh pounding. "I need a shower," You say as you hop off the bed to shower first, almost falling before getting your footing, chuckles and giggles sound from behind you as you enter the bathroom and close the door.

"Ya really like her?" Elvis questioned Priscilla, getting off the bed and walking to get a change of sheet from the dresser "I do." She answered as she starts to take off the bed blankets, pillows, and sheets.

It's been a whole month since she caught you both and well, she liked what she saw, you were beautiful and had a beautiful personality, sure you could be a smart ass and sassy but you were also sweet, kind, and loving, it was impossible not to love or like you, even Lisa Marie took to you as soon as she met you, and she was starting to see you as a second mother.

"I want ask her to move in" Elvis suddenly said helping to change the sheets, bringing Priscilla out of her thoughts. A part of her loved the idea but want would you think? Is it too soon? But then again Elvis has been dating you for 4 months now. " I don't know honey," she tailed off, she didn't want to scare you off, she was starting to like-love you.

And she knew Elvis already loved you, and they couldn't lose you. "Just really think about it ok? " She continued, Elvis hummed and nodded his head. Finally, they finished making the bed, and just in time you come out with a towel around you, and a smile still on your face. "Nice shower little darlin'?" Elvis asked, as you walk to him, you just nod before bringing him in a sweet but short kiss.

"Can I use one of your PJs?" You ask sweetly, "Sure baby." Elvis gives your ass one last hard smack for the night, a yelp makes it past your lips and you stop to look at him with a pouty look on your face before strolling into the walk-in closet to seek your favorite of his PJs.

.......

Priscilla steps out of the large bathroom, her body calling to her to sleep. She closes the door and turns to see you and Elvis fast asleep under the covers.

she must of taking too long after her shower, being the last to take one. The sight truly warms her heart. Elvis is on his back, you're snuggled into his right side, head on his chest and his arm is around you. She puts on a nightie to join you two. She moves under the cover, and into Elvis's left.

'Please let it stay like this forever,'. Priscilla thinks to herself as sleep overcomes her.

.......

Your eyes shot open as a wave of nausea flows over you, and you scurry out of bed trying you're best to be quiet. You reach the toilet just in time. You throw up the dinner you had the night before eventually, you had empty anything in your stomach you shakily got up to use your toothbrush, why not have one at Graceland because you were here most of the time.

This has been happening every morning without fail, you had a theory as to why this is happening, and today you have to make sure about it, exiting the restroom and getting a pen and paper from the nightstand drawer 'My loves, I'm sorry to have left without saying goodbye but something happened. family emergency. I'll see you two soon. Love your pretty girl, (y/n).

You laid down the pen on the paper before finding your clothes, putting them on, and putting Elvis Pj you used in the laundry basket before making your way down the stairs, and out the door. Your car keys were in hand as you walked to the car Elvis had brought for you, the morning light shines bright on your pretty (f/c) Cadillac. Getting in you start to drive to your apartment but not before stopping at a drugstore to grab a few things.

You finally made it to your destination. You parked your ride in the resigned parking lot, locking the car as you get out and walked up the walkway to your apartment door. Thoughts race inside your head while you step into your cheap home and immediately head to the small restroom. The bag from the drugstore In hand.

Turning on the light, You take a deep breath "You can do it." you whispered to yourself as you take the pregnancy tests, 4 tests to be exact out of the said bag. You do your business and wait for the results.

You fidget with the hem of your flowy dress skirt as you sit on your couch and wait for the timer you use to cook and bake to go off for the 5 minutes like the directions on a box said. The timer went off giving you a mini heart attack you put a hand to your heart before, rushing to turn off the timer and check the tests.

You paused at the door frame before stepping into the bathroom and it was like time stopped as you looked down at the tests that changed your life forever. All of them were "Positive" you stammered into the unbearable silence and the thoughts you tried so hard to push at the back of your mind, hits you like a train.

'What I'm going to do?'

'I'm only 19, yes I've wanted to be a mother but not this young, and not only that I'm pregnant with a married man'

'What would Priscilla think? What about Elvis? Will he hate me when he finds out?' Will she?'

You didn't even realize you were crying until you watch a teardrop hit the surface of the sink. "It will be okay, just take a week and think about what to do. It's gonna be fine" You comfort yourself as you wipe the tears off. You throw away the tests into the small trash can beside the toilet, turn the lights off, and went to get ready for work.

.......

You should have known Elvis would show up at your apartment complex, one thing you loved about him is when it came to you he never left a problem unfixed, rather it was something bothering you or it was about your relationship. He would fix it with a sweet gesture of love and affection or just plain-out listen to you. So you shouldn't be surprised that it wasn't even day four of pretending Elvis and Priscilla didn't exist, before he's here.

You let out a big sigh as you opened the door knowing full well that if Elvis wanted something he'd get it. Almost as immediately as you open and before you gesture to come in, he was already walking passed you. "Darlin'" Elvis paused for a second to gather his thoughts before continuing "Why are ya ignoring me? Was it something I did? Cilla's worried ya know. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it." Elvis blurts out. It was now or never.

"I'm pregnant Elvis. You're going to be a father, again." You explained eyes closed. you didn't want to see the hatred and disappointment on the man you loved's face. A few seconds have gone by but it felt like hours when you felt his hands on your waist before you were lifted off the ground and into the air. Your eyes shot open and your hands grip Elvis's shoulders as he twirls you two around in circles. A Joyce laugh leaves him and his eyes, oh his beautiful blue eyes shined brighter than the clearest of skies on a sunny day.

"Y-you're not mad" You stutter as he puts you down and into a warm, loving embrace. "Why would I be mad? Don't ya remember why I put that pretty ring on your finger?" Elvis pulls back to look at you and gestures to your hand that has the heart-shaped ring on it. "I promised to love ya for the rest of my life, I meant it, pretty girl," he said honestly. "I love you, Elvis." You smiled softly before it dropped. "I'm sorry I pretended that you and Cilla didn't exist, I was, just so scared and nervous." You apologized looking at the floor of the living room.

"Oh. Darlin' that baby will be so loved, Lisa Marie has been asking for a little sibling from her 'Ma'. Priscilla will love it as her own. Move in with me, Cilla, and little Lisa. Where you belong." Elvis asked his hands gently making you look at him and like that all your worries, doubts, and insecurities are washed away. You nodded and that gorgeous grin appears on his face.

'It's gonna be ok'

[elvisabutler]

For the gala, specifically the kink prompt, could you please do one on bondage? Pick whoever you want for it. It might be basic but its my biggest kink. Thank you and congrats!!! 🥳🎉💕

anon! you're in luck. so much luck. because guess who has the same sort of kink! this woman! but yes, thank you so much for the congrats! i chose a 60s sugar daddy austin!elvis because tbh i feel like 60s elvis does not get written about nearly enough and because despite him- and i quote myself- looking like "a ken doll looking motherfucker" on the hollywood sign i also find that whole montage attractive af. so! i low key might write more of this because i actually had to cut myself off so it still was a "blurb" but i really liked what i did. also this is light bondage so i will actually be willing to potentially do another without it counting toward your request count since idk reasons. it's my gala i do what i want.

bondage kink - 60s sugar daddy austin!elvis ft. olivia!priscilla ( also known as strangelove, that's how my love goes )

tw: cheating? kind of. former cheating maybe. also the sugar daddy bit is like a blink and miss reference in case it wasn't your jam anon. i am definitely writing said elvis beyond this but you know. also supposedly priscilla called elvis fire eyes. so i didn't pull that from nowhere.

"little mama, baby, my sweet sugar bunny what have i told you about coming to set without telling me you're coming?" elvis asks when he sees you sitting casually in what is the shortest skirt he swears he's ever seen on his bed in his bus. "because my sugar knows better than to surprise me like this. imagine if i had priscilla here."

"you mean like i am, baby?" priscilla asks as she comes out from the front of the bus in what you have to say is a pretty good imitation of a playboy bunny uniform.

for what it's worth you do try and not laugh at elvis's expression when he sees priscilla. he looks like a deer in the headlights and you can't help but giggle. still he's so busy looking at her and you grab his hands, trying to pull him closer to the bed.

"'cilla, what are you doing here?" he asks, sort of slowly shuffling to the bed watching priscilla as she sits down next to you.

priscilla just smiles as sweet as she can while shrugging. "jerry called, made plane ticket arrangements, i let my parents watch lisa. but i got here and i was going to surprise you in this." she motions to her outfit. "but i found y/n here. and we talked. you've been hiding her for- how many years did you say, baby? how many years have you been dating elvis?"

"four." your face is threatening to break out into a grin but now you've got elvis close enough to the bed that you can stand up and push him down. he doesn't even stop you. nor does he stop you as you untie his ascot and start to play with it in your hands.

"four! four years!" she exclaims. "you've kept your sugar all to yourself. you've taken care of her, she told me all about the college you paid for, how she's got the fancy degree."

elvis gulps before he answers. he's in trouble. he can turn this around but not when he's got you on his lap and his wife- his gorgeous wife next to him. "satnin- baby- birdie. you know i had needs and you were younger and i had to take care of them somehow."

"i'm not mad at that." she's a little mad. "i'm mad you kept her hidden from me. we've been married over a year and i've had lisa marie and you've had her hidden, baby." she lays down next to him and grabs his chin so he's facing her as she winks at you.

you know that's your cue to start to tie up elvis's hands with the ascot. he's still looking at priscilla when you force his hands above his head and get to work on the tightest knot that girl scouts taught you. he won't be able to escape that any time soon. to cover up for what you've done you whisper in his ear. "hidden away like you're ashamed of me. i would have made such a pretty picture on your arm, handsome. would have made everyone jealous. you got a pretty girl at home and a pretty girl here."

he groans and moves his hands to try and cup both yours and priscilla's cheeks before he realizes what you've done. "y/n? sugar? untie me, this isn't time for one of our games. i gotta- you and cilla need to know- untie me!"

priscilla's eyebrows shoot up as she moves her hand in between you two and down elvis's chest, lightly scratching him through his shirt. "one of your games. like when we did nurse and patient?"

you giggle as you slink down to unbutton elvis's pants. "nurse and patient. darling, you have been holding out on your sugar." you pause as one of your hands drift to priscilla's thigh and give it a squeeze. "can i get some sugar from you birdie? since elvis can't really touch us right now."

"for you, baby? for my elvis's sugar?" she takes her remaining hand off his face and sits up before grasping your chin like elvis has grasped both yours and hers a million times and plants a kiss on your lips.

you end up deepening it a little, your tongue slipping past her lips easily and illicting what can only be described as the world's most pained groan from elvis. priscilla's sigh is softer and but has you smiling as you pull away.

you look up at elvis and priscilla looks at elvis for a moment, almost inspecting him from the growing hard on his suit pants to the way the blue of his eyes is rapidly being demolished by his pupil. you look back at priscilla for a moment before nodding. "we think you don't deserve to touch right now. not us. not you. you just have to lay back and take what we give you."

priscilla nods. "it's a punishment, fire eyes. for hiding her from me and expecting her to be without company when you're in graceland. she's too pretty for someone to not snap her up."

he growls, pulling at the restraints on his hands. "i already did, satnin. i already-"

she silences him with a kiss. "hush or you're not going to get to do anything fun with that mouth. to her or me. and we'll kick you out of the bus like this."

he hushed.

[thefvrious]

Elio was always tender with the girls, but he was most tender with Kelani. She was young and sweet, not as hardened by life as the rest of them were, and he wanted to keep her that way if at all possible. Honestly, he'd do anything to get her out of the life immediately, but that wasn't his call. She made her own choices. He smiled at her, tucked her hair behind her ear, and ran the pad of his thumb over the hollow of her cheek before turning toward the cabinets, taking out a few products the girls kept there. "Lucky for you, I've helped Cilla cover up a bruise or two." He said, pulling out a red lipstick. "Red, for the blue... then some of this stuff..." He held up concealer. "And some of this stuff." Eli put down the concealer and held up the powder. "Should be good as gold."

Lani had fun, minute the way her head was spinning the next morning and the lights hurt. Zelda had kept feeding her super fruity drinks and she learned her lesson - those drinks were the fucking devil. Then she hurt herself on top of that but she still had fun overall. minus the stupid door. As Elio tended to her like he did all the tie when it came to any of them, it almost made it worth it to have the bruise. The little brush of his lips against her skin caused goosebumps to rise on her skin and for a second there she thought she was actually melting into a puddle on the floor. That was nice, she knew it wasn't anything more than kindness on his part but she treasured every little bit of affection she got. "As long as makeup can cover it, or is it that bad that I should take a couple days off? Thanks for last nigh, Zel said that you helped her carry all that home."

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch.41

GIFs not mine. Credit go to owners.

Summary: So far, it’s a blissful pregnancy for Rose. And Willy couldn’t be any more excited about it.

Tagging: @holdmeicant @willymywonkers @sleepiesapphicxoxo @frozenhuntress67

It had been about six months since Rose first found out she was pregnant. She now had a prominent baby bump that was on display. Every time she saw it when she looked in the mirror, she felt this wave of overwhelming joy. Sometimes it was too much that she would start to cry.

Every one had been doing their part in making sure that Rose was comfortable and well taken care of. Mrs Bucket always made sure that her daughter was well fed, as she was eating for two now. Her friends stopped by every day, offering to do Rose's errands around the factory for her. Priscilla had the most important job of all. She was the one who kept Rose company when Willy couldn't.

Sometimes she would end up staying the night because she was too stubborn to go home and leave her pregnant best friend behind. No matter how much Rose and Willy told Priscilla that it was okay for her to go home, she would always much rather stay with the expectant mother and father. Behind their excitement, Priscilla could always see the worry and how scared they were.

It was thanks to Priscilla's commitment that she would be named the baby's godmother.

But with all the care, love and support that came from her family and friends, no one was more attentive to Rose than her own husband was.

Willy Wonka never knew how wonderful and exciting it could be when you were expecting a child. But where there was excitement and happiness, nervousness and fright was always buried underneath. There were quite a few things that Willy was afraid of.

What if his child grows up to resent him? What if something goes wrong during the birth and he loses Rose, or the baby, or both? What if--?

What if everything is going to be okay and this child will love both their mother and father unconditionally?

That's the thought that Willy kept with him when he began to worry. It would immediately put him at ease.

As mentioned before, no one was quite attentive to Rose than Willy was. He would get up extra early in the mornings to make breakfast and then bring it to Rose so she could have breakfast in bed. He would do the little chores around the house that Rose would usually do like sweeping the floors, making the beds and doing the dishes. He'd bring her anything she asked him to bring, even if he had to leave the factory to get it.

Whatever cravings she had, no matter how weird they were, Willy would bring her what she wanted. When Rose's hormones were on the blink, Willy would comfort her, make her smile, and make her laugh. He'd hold her in his arms and gently rock her from side to side as she cried into his shoulder. He'd pet her hair softly and give her gentle kisses.

Willy made sure that there was always an Oompa-Loompa around for Rose. The Oompa-Loompas were nothing but kind and helpful throughout Rose's pregnancy. In fact, they were quite excited about the future arrival of the baby. That's all the Oompa-Loompas would talk about with each other.

Rose and Willy had been making more frequent visits to Dr Wonka. When he was informed of the pregnancy, which was only a few days after Rose and Willy found out. He was completely overjoyed that he was going to be a grandfather.

But Wilbur wasn't the only one to learn that he was getting a new family member. Willy found out that he was going to have a new mother when his father announced his engagement. And who was he engaged to? Why, none other than Mrs Mason.

Getting a child and a new mother? Willy couldn't be any happier.

******

Priscilla was keeping Rose company while Willy was off working in some part of the factory for the day. In fact, it was Priscilla's third day in a row at the Wonka house. It's like she had invited herself to move in with the couple.

"Priscilla?" Rose asked. She was sat in her chair, knitting a scarf. She had taken up the hobby during her pregnancy.

Priscilla, sat in Willy's chair, looked up from her crossword puzzle. "Yes, Rose?"

"I appreciate you watching over me, but you've been here for three days now. You can go home if you want"

"Nuh-uh" Priscilla shook her head. "What if something happens and you're all alone? I'm not taking that chance"

"There's always at least one Oompa-Loompa outside. They'd take good care of me"

"I know, but you and Willy are my best friends. And so is that baby. I just want to make sure all three of you are okay"

Rose went silent for a moment. "Actually it's all four of us"

Priscilla blinked. "Did you just say four?"

"Yep. It's twins"

Priscilla leapt out of her seat. "Rose! When did you find this out!? When were you going to tell me!?"

"I went to see Dr Potts last week for an ultrasound with my mum" Rose started to explain. Priscilla kneeled down in front of Rose, and grabbed her hands, listening with a smile. "He said the sex could be determined. He asked if I wanted to know, and I said yes. That's when he said it was a boy and a girl"

"It's like you always wanted, Rose!" Priscilla beamed, her eyes sparkling with joy for her best friend. "Are you going to tell Willy?"

"I really want to, but I also want him to be surprised on the day of"

"I see how happy he is now, thinking that he's just having one child. Think of how happy he's going to be when he finds out he's having two" Priscilla put her head on Rose's baby bump. "And Auntie Cilla can't wait to meet you two! Fleur, I know that you're going to be so pretty, just like your mommy is. And you, Dulce, well you're just going to be a handsome young man like your daddy is"

******

It had gotten late. Priscilla wound up falling asleep on the couch, like she had everytime she stayed. Rose fetched an extra blanket and pillow for her. She carefully lifted Priscilla's head and tucked the pillow under her. Then, she draped the blanket over her, making sure that she was covered from her chin to her toes.

Priscilla grinned in her sleep and she muttered out, "Thank you, Rose"

Rose smiled as she leaned down to give Priscilla a kiss on the forehead. Then, she went out to the porch where an Oompa-Loompa was waiting for her with two cups of tea. She sat down with the Oompa-Loompa. "Thank you. I was just thinking of tea" Rose said.

The Oompa-Loompa gave her a smile. The two of them sat and drank their tea. Rose talked and the Oompa-Loompa listened. It wasn't long before Willy made his way home.

"Hello starshine" Willy immediately greeted Rose. He kneeled beside her, taking her hand and a pressing a kiss to the back of it. "I meant to come home earlier but Charlie and I made quite a breakthrough today"

Rose smiled at him, placing her hand on his cheek. "That's okay, cocoa bean"

Willy looked at the Oompa-Loompa. "Thank you for keeping her company"

The Oompa-Loompa gave a nod and a smile, before getting up to leave. Rose let out a yawn and she could feel her eyelids becoming heavy.

"Is my starshine tired?" Willy whispered to her.

"Mmhm" Rose tiredly hummed.

"Come on. Let's get you and our little jellybean to bed" Willy stood up, and held out his hands to Rose. She took them and he helped her stand up. As soon as he stepped foot into the house, he noticed Priscilla asleep on the couch. "She fell asleep here again?"

Rose nodded. "She refuses to leave our side. I swear, she can be so stubborn sometimes"

"But that's what makes her such a good friend" Willy said, before bringing Rose into the bedroom. He made sure that she got into her pyjamas, and then he brushed her hair. Once her hair was all brushed, Rose got into bed. Willy pulled the blankets over her, making sure that she was warm and cozy. "Now, it's time for you to get some sleep, starshine. I'll be coming to bed soon"

"Willy?" Rose spoke up.

"Yes?"

"You're a wonderful husband. You take such good care of me"

"That's because I love you" Willy leaned over and kissed her softly. Then, he moved down the bed so that he could lean over and placed his head on the baby bump. "And I love you too, little jellybean. I can't wait until the day you arrive" He kissed the bump.

Rose smiled at the sight, and that was the last thing she saw as her eyes shut and she fell fast asleep. Willy left the room as quietly as he could. When he entered the living room, he saw Priscilla sitting up on the couch, looking at him with smile. "I thought you were sleeping" Willy said to her.

"I was, but then I was feeling thirsty" Priscilla explained.

"Oh. I'll get you some water then" Willy offered. He quickly went to go get a glass of water and then he brought it over to Priscilla. He sat beside her as he gave her the glass. She thanked him before taking a sip. "I want to thank you for watching over Rose for me. I'm always worried something's going to happen to her when I'm not here, and--"

Priscilla put her hand on his shoulder. "Willy, you don't need to thank me. And I'm not just doing it for Rose. I'm doing it for you, too. You two are like my family, my brother and my sister"

"Do you think I'm going to be a good father?"

"I think you're going to be a fantastic father. Those kids are so lucky to have you for a father"

Wait, kids? As in more than one? Had he heard that right?

"Cilla, did you just say kids?" Willy asked.

"Oops" Priscilla winced. "I didn't mean to say that. Rose wanted you to be surprised"

Willy stayed quiet for a moment, before smiling and asking. "How many?"

"Twins. A boy and a girl"

"So we're having a jellybean and a gumdrop?"

Priscilla couldn't not smile. He already had nicknames for his children. That was so cute and sweet. "Yep, and Auntie Cilla is going to spoil both of them"

Willy gave her a look. "Okay, but don't spoil them too much, please. I've seen what happens when you spoil a child too much. I don't want our children ending up like that"

"Don't worry. I'll spoil them just the right amount" Priscilla winked. Then she yawned, no matter how hard she tried to push it back.

"It's time for you to get some sleep too, Cilla" Willy said.

"But I'm not tired!" She protested. She also yawned again.

"That yawn tells me otherwise" Willy got up off the couch so that Priscilla could make herself comfortable. She was about to grab the blanket and pull it over her, but Willy beat her to it. He made sure that she was covered by the blanket so that she would be kept comfy and warm. "Now, get some sleep" He kissed Priscilla on the forehead, much like Rose had done earlier when she was tucking her in.

When he was sure that she was fast asleep, he got up and made his way into the spare bedroom. What Rose didn't know, is that Willy had been working hard to turn the spare bedroom into the perfect nursery for their child. Now that he knew that they were having a boy and a girl, he knew just what to do to make it even more special. He didn't just want Rose to love it. He wanted to make a room that would show his son and daughter just how much he already loved them.

[thewidowstanton]

Josie Stone: costumier

Costumier Josie Stone was born in London and lived and worked there most of her life but is now based in Rochester in Kent. She’s been in the business “going back to the Flower Power days of the sixties” in London’s King’s Road, and worked for a lot of up-and-coming pop groups, selling clothes to Tommy Roberts’ Kleptomania in Carnaby Street. She made fashion samples for designers Paddy Campbell and Katherine Cusack, and one Christmas Liberty’s department store had windows showcasing Cusack’s dresses – including one for Diana, Princess of Wales – all of which Josie had made. She also created samples for adverts in the boutique Medusa near Sloane Square. 

Later Josie moved into the entertainment industry, making outfits for both the children’s and adults’ Royal Variety Performances, as well as doing TV work for the Des O’Connor Show, the Michael Barrymore Show, the Lesley Garrett and Frank Skinner shows, TFI Friday and for organisations such as Butlins and Bassline Circus. She’s made costumes for shows on cruise ships and for films such as Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again, and has made those for Thursford Christmas Spectacular for many years. Even though Thursford always credits her work, her considerable contribution to the industry has largely gone unrecognised. 

She is performer Becky [Rebecca] Burford’s mother, and her son-in-law is stunt man Andrew Burford. The Widow’s Liz Arratoon has always regarded costumes as a vital part of any show and was delighted when Josie agreed to chat about her impressive – and lengthy – career. 

The Widow Stanton: Have you always loved clothes and fashion? Josie Stone: It was always in me. I was one of these kids that when my mother and father bought me a sewing machine I made all my dolls’ clothes.

Was this skill in your family background? No, my mum was very good at sewing… very good. But no they didn’t do this. My father was a printer. I learnt a lot at school and a lot from my mum. I didn’t go to college; we had lessons at school for making… millinery classes and also sewing classes.

That’s amazing! We had sewing classes at school but we never learnt anything worthwhile. How did you start out actually working in the industry? I left school and went to a couple of places making shirts but that didn’t last long. Then I met up with this guy who had his workroom above Tesco’s in Victoria. He was very keen to start making… it was like Flower Power days but you couldn’t buy shirts and trousers and things like that for the pop groups. Those sort of things just weren’t around. So I went to work with him. It was a rented flat he lived in and we were all working in there making these things. Then he suddenly got this place down King’s Road in Chelsea called The Potato Shop; on the corner in World’s End. At the time Granny Takes a Trip was just down the road from us, with this American car sticking out the window that appeared to crash through on to the step. It was great! I mean good fun, great fun!

Do you design as well as make? No, I don’t design. I get a drawing and that’s it. It depends on who the designer is… sometimes you get ‘I want that at the bottom, I want the skirt to look like that and the top to look like that’. 

Can you remember any of the pop groups you worked for? [Laughs] No! You’re talking a lot of years ago, lots of years ago. It was any group that was starting out in that industry and they had nowhere to buy their things. We would buy Indian bedspreads and make them into kaftans, sailors’ trousers, dyeing them all different colours and altering them, and frilly shirts that would be sold to the antique market at the Sloane Square end of the King’s Road, near the town hall. We had one floor in The Potato Shop and there were crazy carryings on downstairs in the basement. We didn’t really know what it was all about but it was a bit naughty. One night we sneaked back into the place and worked all night so this guy could get his order out. 

We always hear about the Swinging Sixties… how much fun was it?  Oh, King’s Road was lovely. Beautiful, beautiful. It was a wonderful place to be in the sixties with all the Flower Power, then the punks. It was great fun; it was wonderful fun. It was all unknown to me; it was all new and that was the start of me getting into that type of work. My dad worked just off of Carnaby Street and he got us work from Kleptomania, a big, big place where all the pop groups used to go. We’d be making more kaftans and shirts with frills all down the sides and the centre. There still weren’t many shops around that were selling that type of thing. Tommy Roberts would sell to people like Jimi Hendrix and The Who. It was just fun. [Laughs] I was a single girl having great fun going from one place to the next, really. 

After that I worked in a boutique called Medusa. I was downstairs making samples all the time. I didn’t used to do much production. Mainly I’d make a sample up and then if they liked it it would go off to wherever, to a factory or somewhere like that to do production. Medusa was a swinging place, it was in a little alleyway off the King’s Road next to Sainsbury’s. I believe it was called Elystan Place. It was an up-and-coming boutique. That was at the time when Zandra Rhodes was big, and those sort of people. One time we made some samples for Apple Records, the Beatles’ label, but it never came to anything. 

What was the best part of your life then? I was young and having fun and it was all the unknown. I lived then in Wandsworth Road with my parents, and these were all Chelsea people and they were different, completely different to the life I’d led, and it was just really way out, anything went. It didn’t matter what you wore, anything went. And I loved my job. I’d work any hours because I loved it. I didn’t always like the places, I’d go from job to job, but I did love my work and I then started having my own workroom. I decided I’d work from home. I worked with a friend from my first mother-in-law’s house and we were still doing the kaftans… a guy used to pull up in this black cab that was all painted with psychedelic patterns. It was at Tulse Hill – they were very quiet there – and the neighbours used to look in absolute amazement at everything going on. But we loved it, my mother-in-law loved it and it was good fun.

So, let’s jump ahead, how did the Liberty’s window display come about? I worked for somebody called Katherine Cusack. That was just when Rebecca was born and I was working from home. I think Katherine advertised in The Stage and she wanted to start doing semi-couture work. I’d make her samples and then she’d have a party and invite all these quite wealthy people to her lounge. It was a beautiful Edwardian house in Grafton Square in Clapham Common. Then she managed to get into Liberty’s and that Christmas the whole front had all the dresses that I’d made. 

Which of Lady Di’s dresses did you make?  It was a beautiful silk velvet in a beautiful deep blue. It had long sleeves and rouleau loops with little buttons all the way down. I think Di went into Liberty’s and bought it. I believe she was photographed wearing it for The Lady. Katherine was over the moon. But it was real pain to make because silk velvet takes its own route. It’s not the easiest of fabrics to work on because it’s so soft. It is beautiful but it’s not easy to make. You’ve go to have the right feed on your machine otherwise when you’re joining the seams up you’ll lose it and it will be longer one end. Josie! That dress was later auctioned for thousands and thousands! £48,000, I believe.

How did you make the move into showbusiness?  I moved into that when Rebecca started at Sylvia Young’s. They used to put on shows all the time because it’s a theatre school and I started making costumes. Then I went on to doing the children’s Royal Variety. 

Is that how you got on to the adults’ Royal Variety Performance? I’d got into a workroom at Acton doing samples for someone I met on the children’s Royal Variety. Then I went into my own workroom at Acton and I used to help her out. Various different designers got my name and we took on the work. That’s how we gradually started doing all the shows. She didn’t want to go on the shows so I used to go to the studios or anywhere where the work was and I’d fit the costumes and then come back and we’d finish them, but she stayed in the workroom to do whatever needed to be done there. 

Can you tell us about any really nice celebs you worked with? Oh God, who haven’t I met? [Laughs] I worked on the Royal Variety for years with a wonderful designer called Linda Martin. That’s years and years so that’s one helluva lot of people I’ve met. Des O’Connor was sweet. He was lovely, lovely, absolutely charming and so was his wife. We used to do a lunchtime show with him. I did that for a lot of years. Michael Barrymore was also lovely. I was really upset when he went off the scene because he was a nice guy. 

Does anyone else stand out? There’s very few that weren’t nice. They were all very nice. No one was horrible. I worked on Michael Barrymore’s show at Wimbledon Theatre and there were so many celebs on it that they had to share dressing rooms. This one particular share was with Warren Mitchell and Chris Eubank. And Warren Mitchell didn’t want to share with Chris Eubank at all. At the time Chris Eubank had this electric scooter that he would go all round the corridors on it. I could understand Warren Mitchell not wanting to share with him because he was a bit wild at this point. He’s the only one I can say wasn’t very pleasant, but I think it was because he was unhappy about sharing because he and Chris were complete opposites. 

Do you know how many years you’ve done Thursford for?  If we go this time, probably 20 years. The designer I work with there is Stephen Adnitt; he was Cilla’s designer. I worked with Linda Martin for 12 or 13 years doing Thursford. I’d never met Stephen, I knew of him, and he asked me to join his team. The designer gets the job and they’ll have a team and usually they keep that same team all the time. I’ve worked with him for eight years. 

How many costumes might be involved in its Christmas show? We have to dress everybody at Thursford, even the orchestra. So you have 56 singers, 23 dancers and almost two full orchestras. 

So when would you start to plan something like that? We – I work with Rita Best – would start end of May, beginning of June. Our designs would come in before then. We’d measure people and make the costumes and fit them in September. There are probably eight or nine sets of costumes to make. It’s enormous! Enormous. It’s the biggest show I think in Europe. We’d spend three weeks in Norfolk just making sure that it all works on the set; making sure that sequins don’t come off – I mean it’s covered, absolutely covered in sequins – and we’ll be sitting for hours and hours sticking them on. But again, we love it. We’d see the rehearsals and the preview and the day the show starts we’d come home. Our job was done. When I was working for Linda there, I’d be there working late at night. That didn’t happen so much with Stephen. He’d be like: “We’ve got to finish now.” 

You mentioned doing millinery at school so do you do headdresses and that sort of thing? No, I would have liked to have done but for Thursford we have a milliner who comes with us; Shirley Davis, who has also been in the business a very long time.

What advice would you give to someone wanting to follow in your footsteps? Get into a workroom and learn how it goes. Learn how people work because what they learn at college is not how a workroom works. And really to earn any money at it, you’ve got to have a bit of speed on the machine. You can’t hang about. You can’t take a week or two or three weeks to make something. It’s nice if they can get into a workroom and see it first hand. I mean I get my work through various designers that I’ve known over the years or another maker who will ring me up completely out of the blue. Last week I helped someone out on a film. I’ll work on anything that needs a costume. I did Red or Black? at Wembley Arena, a game show developed by Simon Cowell. You could win a £1 million. It was massive. I worked with another designer called Scott Landridge, who did the children’s TV series The Worst Witch, the TV series Mile High and the sitcom Citizen Khan.

Have you had any costume disasters? Not really. [Laughs] I’ve had a lot of late nights or working all night to finish a costume off. You get the occasional broken strap and you have to quickly run down to the stage or on to the set and pin them up, or something doesn’t fit when they arrive. But no major disasters.

Have you been doing anything during the lockdown?  Just before the lockdown we had all these shows on cruise ships lined up but that all went. At first I was making scrubs for the hospitals. I did loads of voluntary work for anyone who needed them. Sometimes they gave me the material and sometimes I’d provide it. They were using all kinds of material in the end, even bedspreads. I did that for a while and I also made these little pairs of hearts. They were to send to hospices and hospitals so the patient could have one to hold and the family would have the other one. I made them out of all the material I have here. I also did masks, but I’m not doing so many now.

Do you ever think about retiring? No! [Laughs] I love what I do. But the work will get less and less and that will be it. I mean we’ve had hardly anything this year. We did a few bits for Butlins and a big Dame’s costume, which I don’t think ever got used because that show was cut. 

Can you pick out a few career highlights? I loved working on the Royal Variety at the Royal Albert Hall. I loved doing it in there. I did that quite a few times. Beautiful, beautiful. It’s a beautiful building and it’s just lovely to work in. If you look back at all the names that have been on the Royal and I did it for more than twenty years, there are a hell of a lot of names I’ve met. And that was quite fun. 

Josie is hoping that Thursford Christmas Spectacular in Thursford, Norfolk will go ahead this year. If so, it will run from 9 November – 23 December 2021 at 2pm and 7pm. 

In the meantime she can be contacted on 07956 832261 for commissions.

For Thursford tickets click here

[etheraely]

girl  ·  hood  :      a  time  forgotten,    memory  nestled  fondly  to  her  chest.    it  was  all  simpler  then,    was  it  not  ?    hardly  a  responsibility  in  sight,    no  obligation  looming  in  the  corner      —      not  a  ghost  in  the  room,    the  third  in  a  crowd.    her  chin  lifts  in  time  to  see  priscilla  make  her  way  across  the  room,    the  sea  of  dazed  party  -  goers  parting  to  make  way,    receding  like  a  wave.    oh,    the  secrets  she  keeps  in  the  crevices  between  her  teeth.      ❛      cilla  .  .  .      ❜      honey  -  sweet,    softened  at  the  edges      —      priscilla  toussaint      (    auditore,    she  reminds  herself    )      has  always  commanded  a  fondness  she  can’t  quite  explain,    couldn’t  justify  in  the  light  of  day.    it’s  been  far  too  long  since  they  last  saw  each  other,    measured  in  months  and  miles  and  oceans.    she  supposes  that’s  what  marriage  does    ;    the  thought  burns.      ❛      goodness,    i  wasn’t  expecting  you  back  for  another  few  weeks  still.    do  tell  me  how  beautiful  italy  is  this  time  of  year.      ❜

if  clarissa  is  her  chosen  favorite,    priscilla  is  conquered  land      —      the  fondness  bestowed  upon  her  indicative  of  victory,    her  flag  planted  firmly  in  the  dirt.    crude  to  liken  winning  affection  to  that  of  winning  a  war,    she  knows    ;    the  feeling  remains  just  the  same,    the  summation  accurate.      ❛      you  know  that  i’ll  always  make  time  for  you.    how  could  i  not  ?      ❜      her  friends  are  silly,    foolish,    nonsensical  beings      —      she  could  never  let  a  marriage  separate  her  from  them,    obligation  and  duty  be  damned.      ❛      it’s  so  good  to  see  you  again.    you  mustn’t  be  a  stranger  anymore,    you  know.    i  know  that  you’re  capable  of  writing  occasionally.      ❜

location: palace gardens — the garden party.

with: @etheraely — alara.

the flowers in the palace gardens are both a reminder of her england—the one from her childhood and maiden days before she was swept away by her mysterious, handsome businessman to italy—and an england completely a stranger to her. this england makes her feel like a visitor in her own home, sometimes. perhaps it's all that time spent making rounds under parasols and in carriages, sitting in parlors wearing a smile that isn't often truly a smile. there has not yet been enough time for childhood wonders anymore. certainly, no time for childhood friends who are now simply just friends, childhood long forgotten.

so it is a pleasant surprise to see a face that brings back memories from many, many years ago, no longer a childhood friend and maybe barely a friend and more aptly an acquaintance. perhaps pleasant would not be the right word for it. do friends curtsy to each other, priscilla wonders? she bends her knees.

"alara." her voice is warm when she says alara's name, like a greeting meant for someone she has long cherished. surely rissa would not mind if priscilla calls alara a friend, even if just for tonight. "i hardly see you anymore," she says. it doesn't sound like an accusation as much as it is a fact. a smile follows, and it's a genuine one in spite of the words. "with your marriage looming, we won't have much time for each other, will we?"

[spn-meanttobe]

Summaries Part Two [51-100]

Claiming Info -- FAQs/Rules The first Claims post will be a separate post going up on Saturday, November 7th at 12 pm EST. The second Claims post will be a separate post going up on Sunday, November 8th at 12 pm EST.

51. My Only Vice She's as pretty as a daisy... Sexy, easygoing Rosie Bliss may look like an innocent flower-shop owner, but former vice cop now police chief Sam Maguire is suspicious of the so-called herbs she grows along with her blooms. As sweet as a rose... So the serious detective launches an investigation into Rosie and her very mysterious past. But his most disturbing discovery? He's irresistibly attracted to free-spirited Rosie. And as dangerous as a Venus flytrap! Then cool, controlled Sam accidentally drinks a cup of her special brew and loses it completely! Not only does he end up sleeping with his suspect, he craves more – of Rosie, the most potent drug of all.

52. Night Shadow In a city ruled by fear... A solitary figure shrouded in black walked the night, determined to awaken a terrified metropolis from the nightmare of crime. There was nothing -- no bullets, and certainly not legal technicalities -- that could deter the man they called Nemesis from his mission. Deborah O'Roarke, an idealistic young prosecutor waging her own war against crime, owed Nemesis her very life. She shared his passion for justice, yet she could not accept his lawless methods. Still, though she fought her unwelcome desire for this disturbing stranger, she was unable to deny her longing to share the shadows that were his home.... After the night he saved Deborah O'Roarke from an attacker Nemesis rediscovered the sweet ache of longing. As Gage Guthrie he could woo her. But the idealistic prosecutor abhorred his vigilante approach to crime fighting. So how could he reveal he was the phantom who lurked in the Night Shadow? Fear casts a long shadow....

53. Night Shift Her voice was like whiskey, smooth and potent, but it was her contradictions that fascinated Detective Boyd Fletcher―the vulnerability beneath her tough-as-nails facade. Late-night radio announcer Cilla O'Roarke was being threatened by a caller, and it was Boyd's job to protect her no matter what. But the sultry deejay was getting under his skin, and the undeniable attraction that sizzled between them concerned the detective…because anything could happen on the Night Shift.

54. No Good Duke Goes Unpunished The ruin of the lady means the taming of the scoundrel. A rogue ruined... He is the Killer Duke, accused of murdering Mara Lowe on the eve of her wedding. With no memory of that fateful night, Temple has reigned over the darkest of London's corners for twelve years, wealthy and powerful, but beyond redemption. Until one night, Mara resurfaces, offering the one thing he's dreamed of: absolution. A lady returned... Mara planned never to return to the world from which she'd run, but when her brother falls deep into debt at Temple's exclusive casino, she has no choice but to offer Temple a trade that ends in her returning to society and proving to the world what only she knows...that he is no killer. A scandal revealed... It's a fine trade, until Temple realizes that the lady--and her past--are more than they seem. It will take every bit of his strength to resist the pull of this mysterious, maddening woman who seems willing to risk everything for honor... and to keep from putting himself on the line for love.

55. Once Smitten, Twice Shy Legend claims this antique Irish wedding veil can grant your heart's deepest desire. But be careful what you wish for... Wedding videographer Tish Gallagher is at the end of her rope. Her business is about to go bust. She's just spent her last buck on nonreturnable (but oh so fabulous) shoes. And her most sustainable relationship is with a pint of Häagen-Dazs. So she makes a wish on the lucky wedding veil to get out of debt...and sees the man she never stopped loving, her ex-husband, secret service agent Shane Tremont. Sure, their chemistry was off-the-charts sizzling hot, but their clashes were legendary, and no amount of longing will change that. When her dream job of recording the first daughter's wedding appears out of the blue, Tish knows it's her only shot to get out of the red. Just one teensy glitch: Shane is the groom. From the moment they see each other, she knows nothing's changed - the same old black magic is still between them, as irresistible and potent as ever. But he's promised to another and Tish has been burned before. Will she always be... once smitten, twice shy?

56. One Night with Morelli Warning: one night will never be enough… Draco Morelli: ruthless businessman, adoring father and wary ex-husband. This gorgeous Italian only ever signs up for temporary flings with glamorous women who know the rules of the game. Until he is blindsided by the one woman in all of London not interested in a relationship with him…. Eve Curtis: dedicated workaholic, loyal friend and self-professed singleton. Determined to remain independent, Eve has been happy keeping men at a safe distance. Until now. Because when Draco sweeps her off her feet and into his bedroom, he opens her eyes to a whole new world of sin and seduction!

57. One Night with the Shifter A one-night stand with a werewolf has unexpected consequences. After he is exiled from his pack, Tyee Grayson must learn to make it on his own. But one night with a beautiful stranger who has luminous blue eyes changes everything…. Especially when his instincts shout that she is the one. All elementary school teacher Jessica Brierly wanted was a night on the wild side, but when she finds herself pregnant, all the rules change. Not only does her lover have more secrets than she ever imagined, but suddenly they're both fighting off vampires. When vampires attack the town she dearly loves, Ty must work with his old pack to save them from a ruthless enemy who could kill not only his mate and his unborn child – but the entire human race.

58. One Texas Night Melinda Amery awoke to the double-barreled deep blue eyes of Lieutenant Grady Sloan. A more formidable – or handsome – man she'd never seen. And he wanted answers about a murder. Only, Melinda had none. She had no recall, except she knew nothing good would come from remembering... Grady was the kind of cop who wouldn't let go until he got what he wanted. With his job on the line, he needed to break the case. But the only witness had amnesia – and tormented dark eyes that needed healing. And Grady couldn't help his overwhelming attraction toward Melinda. But would her hidden memories reveal more than either of them wanted to know... ?

59. Pushing the Limits No one knows what happened the night Echo Emerson went from popular girl with jock boyfriend to gossiped-about outsider with "freaky" scars on her arms. Even Echo can't remember the whole truth of that horrible night. All she knows is that she wants everything to go back to normal. But when Noah Hutchins, the smoking-hot, girl-using loner in the black leather jacket, explodes into her life with his tough attitude and surprising understanding, Echo's world shifts in ways she could never have imagined. They should have nothing in common. And with the secrets they both keep, being together is pretty much impossible. Yet the crazy attraction between them refuses to go away. And Echo has to ask herself just how far they can push the limits and what she'll risk for the one guy who might teach her how to love again.

60. Red, White & Royal Blue When his mother became President, Alex Claremont-Diaz was promptly cast as the American equivalent of a young royal. Handsome, charismatic, genius—his image is pure millennial-marketing gold for the White House. There's only one problem: Alex has a beef with the actual prince, Henry, across the pond. And when the tabloids get hold of a photo involving an Alex-Henry altercation, U.S./British relations take a turn for the worse. Heads of family, state, and other handlers devise a plan for damage control: staging a truce between the two rivals. What at first begins as a fake, Instagrammable friendship grows deeper, and more dangerous, than either Alex or Henry could have imagined. Soon Alex finds himself hurtling into a secret romance with a surprisingly unstuffy Henry that could derail the campaign and upend two nations and begs the question: Can love save the world after all? Where do we find the courage, and the power, to be the people we are meant to be? And how can we learn to let our true colors shine through? Red, White & Royal Blue proves true love isn't always diplomatic.

61. Renegade Protector When intimidation turns to deadly force, it's time for Frontier Justice. If ruthless developers want Mariana Balducci's land, they'll have to kill her for it. And they nearly succeed—until Ty Morrison foils her attacker. The sexy San Francisco cop is part of a secret organization called Frontier Justice. Mariana is tough, but she realizes she can't win this fight alone. And when bullets fly, Ty realizes battling bad guys is easier than fighting their sizzling attraction.

62. Rocky Mountain Wedding Melody Pennington fled to Montana for a new start as a mail-order bride. Gabe Brooks, handsome older brother to the man she was supposed to marry, helps her settle in. But what Melody doesn't expect is to fall for the rugged, closed-off lawman...

63. Romancing the Chef When Veronica Howard is invited to compete in an all-star TV cooking contest, the up-and-coming restaurateur is ready for a fair food fight. Then she discovers who her main competition is: Ace Brown, her friend from culinary school – now the world's hottest celebrity chef. Has she gone from the frying pan right into the fire? Ace Brown – aka the Sexy Chef – knows what women want. After all, recipes for desire are his globe-trotting specialty. Ronnie may not have given him the time of day back in school, but this time Ace is cooking up a surprise she can't resist. Seducing the voluptuous foodie will be his pleasure…until she turns up the heat. With sexual sparks flying, is the footloose bachelor about to become a connoisseur…of love?

64. Rumors that Ruined a Lady Amongst the gossip-hungry ton, no name has become more synonymous with sin than that of Lady Caroline Rider, cast out by her husband and disowned by her family. Rumor has it that the infamous Caro is now seeking oblivion in the opium dens of London! There's only one man who can save her: notorious rake Sebastian Conway, Marquis of Ardhallow. Soon Caro is installed in his country home, warming his bed, but their passion may not be enough to protect them once news of their scandalous arrangement breaks out.

65. Secrets of a Gentleman Escort He's the talk of the ton – for all the wrong reasons! Society's most outrageous – and popular! – escort Nicholas D'Arcy is renowned for his utmost discretion. So when he suddenly finds himself named and shamed by a jealous husband, he reluctantly accepts a summons to the countryside…a fate worse than death! Annorah Price-Ellis isn't what Nick is used to – innocent, feisty and decidedly uncomfortable with the spontaneous heat between them! Suddenly, London's most audacious lover is out of his depth, and in danger of revealing the real man behind the polished facade….

66. Seduced by the Operative For psychologist Claire Cantwell--code name Cyrene--the stakes couldn't be higher. Tapped for a top-secret mission for the president, the OMEGA covert operative needed the unique expertise of a man with whom she'd shared danger--and her bed. Lethally attractive special ops agent and ultra-suave diplomat Luis Esteban wanted more than Claire was ready to give. Now, with their very survival at stake, Claire has to trust Luis with her life... even if that means surrendering the one thing she vowed never to give: her heart.

67. Serendipity Faith Harrington was the classic girl of privilege - until her father was convicted of running a Ponzi scheme and then her marriage crashed and burned. Now Faith is back in her hometown, hoping for a fresh start. But her father's betrayal has rocked Serendipity - and not everyone is ready to welcome her with open arms. Then she runs into her teenage crush - the dark, brooding Ethan Barron. Ethan, no stranger to scandal himself, never imagined he'd own the mansion on the hill, much less ever again come face-to-face with Faith - the princess he once kissed senseless. The chance meeting reignites the electric charge between them. Still, when Ethan hires her to redecorate what was once her childhood home, Faith is sure that getting involved with the town's notorious bad boy will lead only to trouble. But her heart has other ideas. And so do the townspeople of Serendipity...

68. Shades of Desire Natalie Jones is the lucky survivor of an elusive killer who preys on young women and then disappears from view. And since her harrowing ordeal, the once gutsy photojournalist has remained isolated in her home, paralyzed by fear and her failing vision. Special Agent Liam "Mac" McKenzie has scars of his own. But despite his efforts to ignore the attraction that simmers between him and Natalie, he needs her help to catch a predator. Soon, they will forge a tentative alliance, charged with desire. Through a soft-focus lens, Natalie dares to envision a future with Mac beyond the investigation & never guessing that the clues hidden within her photographs are drawing them into an explosive confrontation with a madman.

69. She's Got it Bad Twelve years ago Zoe Ford let Liam Masters break her heart. But now? There's not a chance. Zoe is as tough and wild as they come. So when Liam shows up at her tattoo parlor, she's more than ready to take him on again. That's not going to be a hardship, since he's hotter than he ever was. This time she's staying in charge. And she's not going to consider their score settled until he's hot, bothered and begging for more! Then she'll move on as callously as he left her. Unless all that deliciously bad sex is just too good to give up….

70. Snowbound with the Soldier Maybe this Christmas…? It has been seven long years since Kara Jameson last saw Jason Greene. Returning home as a wounded war hero, Jason looks a shell of the man she once knew. Yet her heart still skips a beat as if it was yesterday…. Stepping back into civilian life, Jason looks to Kara for help. But there's too much water under the bridge – not to mention too much lingering attraction. But it seems that the mountain weather has other ideas, and when Kara and Jason end up snowbound together they are forced to confront the ghosts of Christmas past.

71. Soldier Caged

He'd lost blood and comrades on the world's battlefields, but neither compared to losing his memory. Waking up in a secret military bunker, drugged, with vague images of a mission gone bad, Jonah had nowhere to turn. Until help came in the form of the one woman he'd always remember... Psychologist Sophia Rhodes never got over the bad boy who'd stolen her good-girl heart a decade ago. But without military training, how could she possibly steal Jonah from a high-security facility? She had only one hope--that he'd never forgotten her, either. Sophia knew the breakout was the easy part. Somehow she had to help Jonah focus his hazy images--before a desperate man made sure he'd never remember...

72. Sound Bites Renee Evans has a knack for trouble. After walking in on her best friend and boyfriend in bed together, twenty-five-year-old Renee flees her dream job as a music journalist in sunny Los Angeles and returns to her hometown of Boston – only to meet Dylan Cavallari, the mysterious, aspiring musician who lives in her apartment building. Dylan's piercing gaze and womanizing demeanor make him exactly the type of guy that Renee should steer clear of – which is most likely the reason she falls for him. But when Renee's troublesome ex comes back and threatens to drive her and Dylan apart, Renee is forced to face her past and save her relationship with Dylan before it's too late.

73. Succubus Blues When it comes to jobs in hell, being a succubus seems pretty glamorous. A girl can be anything she wants, the wardrobe is killer, and mortal men will do anything just for a touch. Granted, they often pay with their souls, but why get technical? But Seattle succubus Georgina Kincaid's life is far less exotic. Her boss is a middle-management demon with a thing for John Cusack movies. Her immortal best friends haven't stopped teasing her about the time she shape-shifted into the Demon Goddess getup complete with whip and wings. And she can't have a decent date without sucking away part of the guy's life. At least there's her day job at a local bookstore--free books; all the white chocolate mochas she can drink; and easy access to bestselling, sexy writer, Seth Mortensen, aka He Whom She Would Give Anything to Touch but Can't. But dreaming about Seth will have to wait. Something wicked is at work in Seattle's demon underground. And for once, all of her hot charms and drop-dead one-liners won't help because Georgina's about to discover there are some creatures out there that both heaven and hell want to deny...

74. Tell Me Your Secrets It was a dark and sexy night... And Brooke Ashby knew she was in over her head. As head writer for the soap opera Secrets, she was used to living vicariously through her characters. But that all changed the day she learned she was adopted, and that her identical twin sister had mysteriously disappeared. What else could she do but try to discover what had happened, even if it meant taking her sister's place? It shouldn't be hard. After all, she was good at research and had a talent for acting, if she did say so herself. Her plan seemed foolproof…until Brooke found herself in bed with her sister's fiancé….

75. Temptation's Kiss Patrice Sutton has just landed the role of her career. Snagging the female lead opposite devastatingly handsome, six-foot-three movie idol T. K. McKenna is a dream come true. When she learns they'll be filming out West she's secretly thrilled…and ready to show her gorgeous co-star the ropes of life on the ranch. Until T.K. turns the tables – by initiating her into the art of seduction far from the camera's glare. T.K. knows that with her incredible beauty, talent and sweet sincerity, Patrice has what it takes to make it really big. And the burgeoning film star is showing T.K. a passion more real than anything he's ever experienced on – or off – the screen. But what will it take to prove to her that she's the only woman he'll ever desire…and love?

76. Texas Mom Texas veterinarian Delaney Blair will do anything to find a bone marrow donor for her four-year-old son, Nickolas. The only likely match is his Argentinean father, Dario. But Dario and Delaney didn't part on good terms. In fact, he doesn't even know he has a son! Delaney travels to Argentina to find him, and Dario, shocked, returns to Texas. It's not long before Nick and Dario become close. Not only that, Dario can't hide the feelings he has for Delaney – feelings that have been there since they met. Dario's family doesn't want him to be with her. But now they have to see if the love between them is strong enough to keep them together.

77. The Cajun Cowboy Talk about a bad hair day! Louisiana beauty salon owner Charmaine LeDeux has a loan shark on her tail, and Raoul Lanier, the six-foot-three hunk of testosterone she thought she divorced, has just delivered a bombshell: They're still married! At least the rundown ranch they've inherited together is the perfect hideout. Holy crawfish! It's hard enough for Raoul to play cowboy to a bunch of scrawny steer, let alone suffer the exquisite torture of living with the delectable Charmaine, who's declared herself a born-again virgin. What's a man crazy with desire to do? Seduce her on their home on the range, even if it means taking advice from bachelor ranch hands, Charmaine's belly-dancing great-aunt, and St. Jude, patron saint of lost causes. With the moon shining over the bayou and the Dixie Mafia in hot pursuit, this Cajun cowboy must sweet-talk his way into his wife's arms again...before she unties the knot for good!

78. The Happy Baker We've all been there. The blind date from hell. The Big Hurt. The guy who details his various surgeries over Caesar salad on the first date. Who needs a pint of rocky road when you can head to the kitchen and work out your heartache with a whisk and a bottle of wine? Erin Bolger has been there, dated that and baked through it all. Turns out the more bitter the heartbreak, the sweeter the batter. So don't cry over bad dates, bad boyfriends or bad breakups – whip up a batch of My-Mom-Didn't-Like-You-Anyway Cupcakes and bake yourself happy.

79. The Heist FBI Special Agent Kate O'Hare is known for her fierce dedication and discipline on the job, chasing down the world's most wanted criminals and putting them behind bars. Her boss thinks she is tenacious and ambitious; her friends think she is tough, stubborn, and maybe even a bit obsessed. And while Kate has made quite a name for herself for the past five years the only name she's cared about is Nicolas Fox -- an international crook she wants in more ways than one. Audacious, handsome, and dangerously charming, Nicolas Fox is a natural con man, notorious for running elaborate scams on very high-profile people. At first he did it for the money. Now he does it for the thrill. He knows that the FBI has been hot on his trail -- particularly Kate O'Hare, who has been watching his every move. For Nick, there's no greater rush than being pursued by a beautiful woman... even one who aims to lock him up. But just when it seems that Nicolas Fox has been captured for good, he pulls off his greatest con of all: He convinces the FBI to offer him a job, working side by side with Special Agent Kate O'Hare. Problem is, teaming up to stop a corrupt investment banker who's hiding on a private island in Indonesia is going to test O'Hare's patience and Fox's skill. Not to mention the skills of their ragtag team made up of flamboyant actors, wanted wheelmen, and Kate's dad. High-speed chases, pirates, and Toblerone bars are all in a day's work... if O'Hare and Fox don't kill each other first.

80. The Inn at Eagle Point It's been years since Abby O'Brien Winters set foot in Chesapeake Shores. The Maryland town her father built has too many sad memories and Abby too few spare moments, thanks to her demanding Wall Street career, the crumbling of her marriage and energetic twin daughters. Then one panicked phone call from her youngest sister brings her racing back home to protect Jess's dream of renovating the charming Inn at Eagle Point. But saving the inn from foreclosure means dealing not only with her own fractured family, but also with Trace Riley, the man Abby left ten years ago. Trace can be a roadblock to her plans...or proof that second chances happen in the most unexpected ways.

81. The Klone and I After thirteen years of marriage and two kids, Stephanie was devastated when her husband left her for a younger woman. Suddenly she was alone. Then a spur-of-the-moment trip to Paris changed everything. Peter Baker was a handsome high-tech entrepreneur also visiting the city. Stephanie was certain it couldn't possibly work. But much to her amazement, he contacted her when they returned to New York. And Stephanie embarked on a bizarre and hilarious adventure beyond her wildest dreams. Shy, serious Peter, chairman of a bionic enterprise, was supposed to be away on business. Instead, he's standing at her door, wearing satin and rhinestones. Naturally, Stephanie thinks it's a joke -- until the truth suddenly dawns: this isn't Peter playing a role. This is his double! Calling himself Paul Klone, this wild, uninhibited creature isn't even remotely like Peter except for his identically sexy good looks. This uproarious novel explores the outrageous love triangle that develops between Stephanie, Peter... and The Klone.

82. The Man from Atlantis These days, eligible, attractive, single men weren't exactly coming out of the woodwork! So when Jenna stumbled across a gorgeous male specimen, she couldn't let a mere ten-thousand-year age difference interfere with romance! Besides, everyone knows older men are sexy!

83. The Man With Emerald Eyes A victim of her brother's gambling debts, lovely Theone Danvers had been left to choose between the hell of debtor's prison - and the lecherous arms of the Marquis de Juliers. But Theone was a fiery beauty with a mind of her own. Disguised as a lad, she took to the highroad with smoking pistols, and stole herself a fortune in gold. Then, in the green depths of the forest, she meets a rival - a highwayman with haunting emerald eyes, a price on his head, and a noble secret in his past. They join forces, and Theone rides headlong into the greatest danger of her renegade career: the unquenchable passions of a woman's first love!

84. The Prince Charming List Heather Lowell asked herself this question after moving to Prichett, Wisconsin, to temporarily manage the Cut and Curl Beauty Salon. She's hopeful that this summer she will finally find the love of her life. She even has a list detailing everything she wants in her Prince Charming. But when two men enter her life, Heather suddenly needs to figure out what she really wants – and whether handyman Ian Dexter or rebel-artist Jared Ward figures into her happily ever after.

85. The Ranger Texas Ranger Mitch Striker's uncomplicated bachelor lifestyle suits him just fine: catch the bad guys and move on. But there's nothing straightforward about struggling single mom Brandie Ryland or her adorable four-year-old son, Toby. The beautiful redhead is the prime suspect in Mitch's undercover investigation. But when a hostage standoff leaves Brandie's family vulnerable and uncovers a roomful of contraband and drugs, Mitch second-guesses her involvement in the crime…and his ability to keep his emotional distance. With the danger growing and the clock ticking, Mitch must save Brandie, catch the perps and handle the daddy heartstrings Toby keeps tugging on. Then he'll have to face the secrets he's sure Brandie's keeping – before they become his undoing.

86. The Rose Contract Love is free. Innocence has a price. Raena Barren was born with a secret: of all the magic users in the kingdom of Soma, she is the only one who can hide her power. As a child, she used this magic to help her survive on the streets--until she saved the life of a strange boy called Jorr Portent. He rewarded her with a job in the castle of Soma--and Raena spent the next ten years falling in love with him. But while Raena's life as a servant is sheltered, Jorr's world is one of spies and assassins. When Raena comes of age, their paths will diverge forever… unless Raena can earn a place by his side. To become one of Jorr's operatives, however, Raena must get to know her own body, and outsmart the deadly people around her. She must also sell her innocence to whatever man pays the most… even if that man can't be Jorr.

87. The Secret His Mistress Carried Hiding from the Greek… The ink is barely dry on Giorgios Letsos's divorce papers, but there's only one thing on this unstoppable Greek's mind: finding Billie Smith, his mistress before his marriage. But the sweet, pliable woman he once knew slams the door in his face! Billie fought hard to heal her broken heart after Gio chose to marry someone else. When he storms back into her life, she's determined not to fall for his seduction again. Especially now that she has a secret to protect…their son. But she hadn't counted on just how badly he wants her back in his bed!

88. The Space Between Us Tesla Martin is drifting pleasantly through life, slinging lattes at Morningstar Mocha, enjoying the ebb and flow of caffeine-starved customers, devoted to her cadre of regulars. But none of the bottomless-cup crowd compares with Meredith, a charismatic force of nature who can coax intimate tales from even the shyest of Morningstar's clientele. Caught in Meredith's sensual, irresistible orbit, inexpressibly flattered by the siren's attention, Tesla shares long-buried chapters of her life, holding nothing back. Nothing Meredith proposes seems impossible – not even Tesla sleeping with Meredith's husband, Charlie, while she looks on. After all, it's all in fun, isn't it? In a heartbeat, vulnerable Tesla is swept into a spectacular love triangle. Together, gentle, grounded Charlie and sparkling, maddening Meredith are everything Tesla has ever needed, wanted, or dreamed of, even if no one else on earth understands. They're three against the world. But soon one of the vertices begins pulling away until only two points remain – and the space between them gapes with confusion, with grief and with possibility….

89. The Texas Ranger's Reward Is he seeing double? He can't believe his eyes. When Travis Stillman meets Melissa Dalton, it's as if he's seeing the ghost of his late wife. That explains why his young son warms to Melissa so quickly. The orthopedic therapist is working wonders to help Casey readjust after an accident -- his boy has come alive again. But that's no reason for this former Texas Ranger to let his guard down as he settles into life as a P.I. and single dad. No woman can replace his wife -- especially not one who could be her twin. And when Melissa hires him to investigate a break-in at her family's cabin, he's even more determined to ignore the growing attraction between them. Now he's got to protect both Melissa, and his heart.

90. The Vampire Affair The world knew Michael Brandt as a playboy tycoon. The underworld knew him as a fierce vampire hunter. Armed with a wooden stake and superior strength, Michael targeted the most powerful overlords in a clandestine do-or-die operation...and then tabloid reporter Jessie Morgan uncovered his secret. Only once before had Michael allowed a woman into his secret lair. Now he'd fight heaven and hell to keep Jessie from the same fate. But he couldn't fight the attraction that drew him to her like a bloodlust. An attraction that might prove deadly...or worse. For Michael was going up against the most powerful of the undead--and that vampire had his fangs bared for Jessie.

91. Thief of Hearts An Innocent Beauty. Prim and pampered, Lucinda Snow knew little of men and nothing of danger, until the fog-shrouded night she found herself abducted—and at the mercy of the legendary Captain Doom. Ruthless and mocking, tender and virile, the notorious pirate awakened all Lucy's passionate longings, then abandoned her with nothing but a kiss... A Pirate's Prize. Now safely at home, the alluring waif is tormented by treacherous memories—and by the presence of Gerard Claremont, her mysterious new bodyguard. Everything about him, from his forbidding size to his impertinent manner, sparks her defiance. And even when Gerard's smile turns seductive, no one can make her forget Doom. Yet only when Lucy's path crosses the captain's once more, will she learn who is on a voyage of retribution, and who is out to steal her heart...

92. Things Good Girls Don't Do Good girls don't steal. Good girls don't visit sex shops. Good girls don't have one-night stands. For Katie Conners, being a good girl just isn't worth it anymore. It used to mean getting the life she always wanted. But that was before she got dumped and her ex got engaged to his rebound. So, after a bad day and one too many mojitos, Katie starts making a list of things a girl like her would never do, not in a million years... As a tattoo artist with a monster motorcycle, Chase Trepasso isn't the kind of guy you bring home to mom and dad. And when he finds Katie's list in a bar, he's more than happy to help her check off a few items. Especially the ones on the naughtier side... Katie's more than tempted by Chase's offer, as long as they keep things uncomplicated. But as they spend more time together, she may just wind up breaking the most important rule of all: Good girls don't fall in love with bad boys.

93. This Tender Truce The Boutonnet vineyards, passed down in her family for generations, mean everything to Tory. But she hadn't counted on her grandfather's one condition of her taking over: marry his godson, Chance Mobley. Unfortunately, Tory had decided long ago that she could never truly love the arrogant Frenchman. He had been raised alongside her, and she had loved him once – a child's crush. But Chance has no business being officially inducted into the Boutonnet family, and certainly doesn't deserve her beloved vineyard. As it turns out though, wine might not be the only thing for which Tory has a passion. And Chance has a few things to teach her about love.

94. Undead and Unwed It's been a helluva week for Betsy Taylor. First, she loses her job. Then, to top things off, she's killed in a car accident. But what really bites (besides waking up in the morgue dressed in a pink suit and cheap shoes courtesy of her stepmother) is that she can't seem to stay dead. Every night she rises, with a horrible craving for blood. She's not taking too well to a liquid diet. Worst of all, her new friends have the ridiculous idea that Betsy is the prophesied vampire queen, and they want her help in overthrowing the most obnoxious, power-hungry vampire in five centuries--a badly dressed Bela Lugosi wannabe, natch. Frankly, Betsy couldn't care less about vamp politics, but they have a powerful weapon of persuasion: designer shoes. How can any self-respecting girl say no? But a collection of Ferragamos isn't the only temptation for Betsy. It's just a lot safer than the scrumptious Sinclair--a seductive bloodsucker whose sexy gaze seems as dangerous as a stake through the heart...

95. Unguarded Rhiannon Jenkins is an events planner on the rise. And her latest client, Shawn Emerson, could make her career. Too bad the gorgeous man insists on mixing a lot of pleasure with his business. In Rhiannon's books getting involved with a client is the fastest way to exit a job. So, no. She'll resist all his come-get-me looks and tempting offers. While his charm is easy to overlook, Shawn in the role of confidant and friend breaks down all her best defenses. Suddenly the tables turn and she wants to be close to him. That means opening up about the ugly events of her past – a risk she hasn't taken before now. Oh, but he could be so worth it!

96. Walking Dead For once, Joanne Walker's not out to save the world. She's come to terms with the host of shamanic powers she's been given, her job as a police detective has been relatively calm, and she's got a love life for the first time in memory. Not bad for a woman who started out the year mostly dead. But it's Halloween, and the undead have just crashed Joanne's party. Now, with her mentor Coyote still missing, she has to figure out how to break the spell that has let the ghosts, zombies and even the Wild Hunt come back. Unfortunately, there's no shamanic handbook explaining how to deal with the walking dead. And if they have anything to say about it – which they do – no one's getting out of there alive.

97. What Waits Below Out of the depths... – All her life, Kendra Tremaine had trembled at the very thought of Lynx Lake. She had known even as a child that something unspeakable waited below the surface of the water and she had long sworn never again to set foot on its shore. And yet now she was back to take possession of the family estate that was her unwanted legacy. The legends of Lynx Lake had summoned another visitor, a man of strange powers and dark knowledge. Hart Rainwalker's obsession with the lake's secrets terrified Kendra, even as his brooding passion called to her soul. He claimed only he could protect her from the awful presence that threatened her. But who would protect her from her self-appointed guardian?

98. Wife for Hire The Prospective Husband with a Racy Past... Hank Mallone spotted trouble when she sat down and said she'd marry him! Maggie Toone was a tempting firecracker who'd make his life delightful hell if he let her pretend to be his wife in order to improve his rogue's reputation. Would his harebrained scheme to get a bank loan for his business backfire once Maggie arrived in his small Vermont town and let the gossips take a look? Maggie never expected her employer to be drop-dead handsome, or to affect her like a belt of bourbon on an empty stomach, but she was too intrigued by his offer to say no... and too eager to escape a life that made her feel trapped. The deal was strictly business, both agreed... until Hank turned out to be every fantasy she'd ever had, and Maggie was so bright, funny and downright irresistible that Hank fell head over heels in love! While the town watched, Hank wooed his wife with a charm that had never failed him yet. Could he make her dreams real by proving she belonged in his arms?

99. Wild Heat Sometimes old flames are the hottest of all... In the quaint little town of Cailkirn, Alaska, it's impossible to keep a secret, especially one as juicy as the unexpected return of Kitty Grant. Tack MacKinnon remembers her wild red curls and even wilder spirit-and still feels the sting from when she shattered his heart in college. But there's a pain in Kitty's gorgeous eyes that guts him to the core and Tack is determined to do whatever it takes to see the woman he still loves smile again - even if it means taking on her demons as his own. After fleeing an abusive ex-husband, Kitty decides that the best way to heal her broken heart is to come back home. But she gets a whole new shock when she sees how undeniably sexy Tack has become. More handsome, more muscular, more charming-more everything - he's impossible to resist. Before she knows it, they're reigniting sparks that could set the whole state of Alaska on fire. Yet trust doesn't come easy to Kitty anymore, and as things heat up between her and Tack, she can't help but wonder if one of them is going to get burned...

100. Zombie Moon Caleb Locke lived for one thing — killing zombies. And this man — this legend — was exactly what Samantha Wagner needed. In mist-shrouded alleys, hunted by zombies, haunted by fear, she vowed to find Caleb and convince him to help her. But she hadn't counted on falling in love…. Caleb kept his own secrets — like the one he couldn't hide when the moon was full. But his wolf was drawn to Samantha, recognizing her as his mate. With her in his arms, Caleb reveled in passion… and rued his deception. Would she still love the man who fought by her side if she realized that zombies weren't the only monsters? Samantha would have to make a choice—and she only had till the next full moon.

[floralege]

ship meme thing for allllllla our ships xoxo orumad

omg  the  whole  SQUAD  let’s  fuckin  DO  THIS  !!!   @orumad

who is the most affectionate ?

cilla  and  daisy  are  EXTREMELY  affectionate,  they  just  love  holding  hands,  kissing,  just  being  close.  mick  loves  having  his  arm  around  del’s  waist,  and  he  gets  progressively  more  affectionate  as  the  drinks  go  around.  pru  is  affectionate  with  bee  in  a  very  Horny  Girl  way  24  /  7  so  her  affection  actually  becomes  very  sweet  when  she’s  drunk  /  high.  we’re  not  at  all  surprised  that  caia  and  lauren  are  the  queens  of  affection,  but  mostly  to  each  other.

big spoon  /  little spoon ?

considering  that  she’s  a  vampire,  elliot  needs  SOMETHING  to  feel  like  a  Big  Man  (  ugh,  boys  )  so  he’s  def  got  big  spoon  energy.  liam’s  big  spoon,  but  he’s  always  poking  fern’s  back.  romy  is  big  spoon  for  molly,  but  that’s  probably  an  ego  thing  because  she  def  bottoms.  WHY  am  i  soft  about  duffy  platonically  cuddling  vee  their  whole  lives  until  one  day  it  doesn’t  feel  Very  Friendly  ?  big  soft.

favorite non - sexual activity ?

hunting  sport  (  re:  stupid  humans  )  for  gid  and  rome,  but  at  some  point,  that  turns  a  lil  sexual.  before  he  got  swept  up  into  work,  grady  loved  watching  tracy / hepburn  films  with  cecile.  liam  and  fern  genuinely  loving  jamming  and  shit  talking  together,  cilla  and  henry  love  spontaneous  date  nights,  emmy  and  dom  drink  and  plot  together  that’s  almost  foreplay.  emile  and  marilyn  taunt  each  other  mercilessly,  but  they  really  do  enjoy  getting  to know  one  another  without  that  pressure.  camille  and  emile  are  the  masters of  non  sexual  intimacy,  so  they’ll  just  stare  at  the  sky  or  make  more  awful  bets  with  one  another.

who is most likely to carry the other ?

Big  Ivor  carries  Little  Cecile  and  yes,  we  love  it  !  dusty  probably  carries  vee  and  lucas  around  constantly.  in  a  sad  way,  molly’s  probably  carried  romy  out  of  many  bars  :(  johnny  drags  cam’s  tiny  ass  out  of  clubs,  sadie  and  del  are  both  going  Through  It  so  they  carry  each  other  out  of  many  los  angeles  night  clubs  where  they’ve  started  shit  and  don’t  want  to  deal  with  it.

what is their favorite feature of their partner’s ?

gideon  fully  believes  that  rome  is  the  most  beautiful  creation  of  all  time,  though  he’d  fuck  himself  with  a  chainsaw  before  ever  acknowledging  it  aloud.  hannah  is  genuinely  attracted  to  freddie’s  inherent  goodness  and  idk,  probably  feels  some  connection  with  that  sort  of  brokenness,  too.   pru  loves  bee’s  nose  and  will  do  the  bradley  cooper  nose  touch  thing  from  a  star  is  born  when  she’s  drunk,  probs  to  bee’s  annoyance.  jack  literally  believes  is  kimber  is  SO  fucking  cute  and  wonderful,  it  aches  her.  mick  is  obvs  taken  with  the  eyes  AND  the  boobs.  call   it  fucked,  but  emmy  loves  when  dom  goes  ice  cold  on  someone  ---  just  not  HER.

what’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other ?

johnny  and  cameron  likely  bickered  more  often  and  tbh,  i  feel  like  one  mick  realized  he  had  legit  feelings  for  delphine,  he  acted  super  weird  and  the  whole  family  noticed.  fern  was  probably  very  gentle  about  it  but  liam  went  full  tf  is  up  with  you,  kid  ?  cameron  and  freddie  always  inherently  had  feelings  for  one  another,  so  it  was  just  there  from  the  get  go.  

nicknames  ?  and  if  so,  how  did  they  originate  ?

most  of  the  nicknames  are  just  ones  everyone  sort  of  had  growing  up  ?  pru,  bee,  vee,  mickey,  duffy,  del,  etc.  like,  i  don’t  know  if  any  nicknames  are  singular  to  any  particular  ship  tbh  they’re  free  for  everyone.

who worries the most ?

fern  worries  about  liam  more  than  she  lets  on  and  it’s  probably  her  inner  saboteur  that  has  her  cope  with  that  by  drinking  with  ethan.  gideon  worries  about  lauren  CONSTANTLY,  because  he’d  legit  die  if  anything  happened  to  her  or  caia.  he  doesn’t  worry  about  rome  necessarily,  but  he  gets  wind  of  her  endeavors  without  him  and  hopes  she’s  staying  safe.  jack  wonders  if  she’s  going  to  fall  into  old  habits  the  longer  she’s  around  pru,  del,  and  co.,  so  she’s  worried  about  disappointing  /  hurting  kimber  because  of  that.  arlo  knows  coco  has  her  shit  together,  but  he  can’t  help  but  worry  !!!  she  doesn’t  need  his  concern  and  he  knows  she  can  handle  herself  but  he  does  !!  want  to  help  !!

who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant ?

bee  probably  remembers  the  food  at  fancy  restaurants  that  don’t  make  pru gag,  so  she  always  reminds  her  what  to  get  ;  dom  can  be  upsettingly  charming  when  he  remembers  what  daisy’s  favorite  dessert  is,  and  she’s  never  convincing  when  she  pretends  to  be  annoyed  that  he’s  already  ordered  it.  on  the  flip  side,  emmy’s  known  dom’s  drink  order  since  they  were  sixteen.  grady  remembers  the  gist  of  cecile’s  favorite,  but  ivor’s  always  the  one  who  rushes  to  the  kitchen  to  let  the  chef  know  exactly  what  her  preference  is.  simon  has  em’s  thai  takeout  order  MEMORIZED.

who tops ?

shocked  to  learn  that  bee  wasn’t  kidding  about  the  occasional  topping  !  though  daphne  def  topped  her.  mick  physically  tops,  del  does  it  emotionally.  molly  tops  romy  which  is  amazing  for  their  height  difference,  and  olivia  and  esme  def  battle  it  out  every  time,  LOVE  that  for  them.

who initiates kisses ?

cilla  is  big  on  kissing  often,  so  henry  tends  to  arrive  at  parties  with  some  trace  of  her  lipstick  on  him  every  time.  with  everything  going  on  in  the  press,  dom  and  emmy  are  wise  to  play  up  their  affection,  but  behind  closed  doors,  he’s  definitely  the  one  to  initiate.  dusty  probably  drunk  kisses  lucas  every  time  and  it’s  just  never  mentioned  ever  again.  jack’s  horny  on  main,  so  she’s  always  all  over  kimber.  meg  initiates  kisses  often,  though  mostly  as  a  power play.

who reaches for the other’s hand first?

cameron,  always.  johnny,  freddie,  cecile,  etc  ---  doesn’t  matter,  she’s  holding  their  hand.  duffy  gets  VERY  excited  about  holding  vee’s  hand,  so  he  tries  it  often.  jimmy  probably  tried  to  hold  sadie’s  hand  once  and  she  elbowed  him,  but  caia  loves  all  form  of  affection,  so  she  got  very  flustered  when  he  first  grabbed  hers.  simon’s  learned  to  place  a  hand  at  the  small  of  em’s  back  when  they  attend  events  together.

who kisses the hardest ?

unless  she’s  drunk,  pru  has  no  idea  how  to  be  soft  so  she’s  always  kissing  with  a  bigger  plan  in  mind.  liam  probs  kisses  rough,  too.  simon’s  big  on  heady  kisses,  and  if  ivor  ever  gets  the  chance,  HELL  YEAH.

who wakes up first ?

cilla’s  only  an  early  riser  if  she  hasn’t  gone  to  bed,  so  henry’s  usually  the  one  trying  to  make  sure  she’s  up  before  noon.  dom’s  always  up  early,  and  while  daisy  was  the  type  to  mumble  sweetly  for  him  to  stay  longer,  emmy  usually  doesn’t  stir  unless  she  wakes  up  in   a  Mood  and  pulls  at  him  to  stay  behind.  bee’s  always  up  before  pru,  and  pru  thinks  that’s  a  complete  crime.

who wants to stay in bed just a little longer ?

gideon  obvs  doesn’t  sleep,  but  when  he  allows  himself  to  rest,  he  demands  WEEKS  of  going  undisturbed,  so  imagine  a  pale,  lonely  freak  vampire  sitting  in  the  woods  and  staring  at  the  sky  motionless  basically.  meg,  unlike  bee,  happily  sleeps  in  late  and  takes  her  sweet  fucking  time  to  do  it,  though  with  sid  she  always  skips  out  before  morning.  ivy  doesn’t  believe  in  anything  before  one  pm,  so  surprise  surprise  that  nora  started  suggesting  breakfast  dates  for  nik.

who says i love you first ?

since  they’re  all  stupid  soft,  gonna  go  out  on  a  limb  and  assume  it  was  mostly  mine  idiots  who  said  it  first.  except  for  obvious  ones  like  sadie,  who  ran  to  the  hills,  and  gideon,  who  believes  love  is  too  weak  to  encompass  it.

who tells their family/friends about their relationship first ?

listen  EVERY  CHARACTER  IN  EVERY  GENERATION  IS  TOO  CLOSE  so  nobody  needed  to  be  told.  someone  gets  together,  and  by  the  time  they  home,  the  information  has  fully  been  spread.  

what do their family/friends think of their relationship ?

each  ship  has  their  own pros  and  cons,  and  while  certain  people  have  LOUDER  opinions  (  fern  loves  bee,  doesn’t  understand  why  pru  let  her  go  ;  if  cameron  were  alive,  she’d  be  politely  and  quietly  apprehensive  about  camille’s  friendship  with  clem’s  son, the  same  with  daisy  and  henry  /  cilla,  etc.  )   but  it’s  usually  either  we  hate  this  (  meg  @  pru/bee,  sadie  @  mick/sadie  )  or  we  love  this   (  fern  @  pru/bee,  mick  @  jimmy/caia,  dusty  @  duffy/vee  )

who is more likely to start dancing with the other ?

lauren’s  always  the  one  who  gets  elliot  dancing,  grady  would’ve  sat  in  the  corner  at  his  own  wedding  if  not  for  cecile  while  simon  LOVES  to  dance  and  always  guides  em  and  asha  out  to  the  floor.  pearl  will  pull  ANYONE  out  to  dance  with  her.

who cooks more/who is better at cooking ?

cameron  is  a  horrible  cook  and  has  set  freddie  and  johnny’s  respective  kitchens  ablaze  many  times,  marilyn  has  specialty  dishes  but  she’s  too  lazy  to  cook  often.  ivor  knows  the  basic,  but  he  whips  them  up  for  cecile.  nora’s  excellent  at  cooking,  but  for  some  reason,  only  nik  and  coco  have  ever  tried  it.  

who comes up with cheesy pick up lines ?

simon  is  often  too  hetero  for  his  own  good.  clementine  is  guilty  of  this,  too,  but  she’s  cute  enough  to  get  away  with.

who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times ?

BIG  ROME  AND  GIDEON  ENERGY.  also  big  dom  and  emmy /  daisy  energy.  jack  and  kimber  are  definitely  guilty  of  this,  too.  jules  probably  whispered  something  indecent  to  bella  at  cecile’s  wake  (  big  ow  typing  that  !  )  and  it  made  bella  feel  so  normal  for  five  seconds  that  she  was  sort  of  always  endeared  after  that.

who needs more assurance ?

given  their  history,  hannah  and  freddie  need  a  lot  of  reassurance  from  each  other.  that  was  obviously  a  problem  for  mick  and  look  how  THAT  turned  out.  immediately  post  rehab  romy  needed  a  lot  of  validation  from  molly,  which  became  messy.

what would be their theme song ?

MOST  OF  THEM  HAVE  SOUNDTRACKS  AND  SONGS  BUT  THERE  ARE  A  LIL  TOO  MANY !!!!!!

who would sing to their child back to sleep ?

cameron  could  NOT  sing,  but  did  it  all  the  time  for  daisy  and  henry,  so  bless  freddie’s  patience.  fern  walked  in  on  liam  softy  singing  one  of  his  inappropriate  songs  to  pru  once  and  loved  it,  a  la  baby  emma  and  baby  got  back.  duffy  does  this  constantly  for  his  daughter,  and  vee’s  definitely  caught  him  a  few  times.  emmy  would  never  sing,  but  she  def  played  medieval  choir  music  over  bastien’s  baby  monitor  and  dom  was  full  ????  over  this.

what do they do when they’re away from each other ?

most  of  the  time  they  literally  do  not  shut  up  about  the  other  person,  for  better  or  worse.  or  it’s  messy  and  they  don’t  consider  them  enough.  it’s  VERY  one  or  another,  which never  turns  out  well.

one headcanon about this otp that breaks your heart.

AGAIN  too  many  to  choose  from  but  the  way  we  wrote  charlie  out  and  put  johnny  in  as  daisy’s  father  ?  astounding,  10  /  10  because  that  works  a  little  TOO  well  for  the  dynamics  that  played  out  with  gen  two  and  makes  cam’s  death  hit  a  little  HARDER.  also  we’ve  been saying  this  for  years  but  ivor  /  dom  interaction  pls.  the  scandal  of  it  all.  

one headcanon about this otp that mends it.     

soft  concept  is  the scooby  gang  (  there’s  no  freddie,  just  gay  daphne,  a  shaggy  and  scooby,  and  velma  )  having  elaborate  halloween  plans  every  year,  even  if  it’s  just  to  have  a  movie  marathon.  costumes  are  often  required,  and  dusty  LOVES  some  good  riddles,  so  she’ll  get  every  stoned  and  hide  clues  around  the  apartment  that  lead  to  the  snacks.