#i'm so freakin' happy y'all.

[erenfox]

RANKING SBG SHIPS BECAUSE LOKI GAVE US ALL FREE WILL 🗣🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥

Aidlyn/Ashden: good lord the chemistry. the 'he fell first but she fell harder' trope. the lil gestures by aiden. him annoying tf out of her but also becoming very caring when she's hurt. I'M SO CALM RN GUYS. and the fact that them ending up together is inevitable lmfao XD 9/10

Benlor: FUCKKK IM SERIOUSLY NOT OK THESE TWO ARE JUST SO PURE AND SWEET TO EACH OTHER. ESPECIALLY TAYLOR TOWARDS HIM, cuz he kinda suppresses his feelings and is a sad boi :( dw ben taylor's gonna make you feel happy again fosho lmao 😭 the lil blushing ben always does around taylor! her supporting his ideas even tho they flop! her helping him calm down from barron through music! her always cheering him up whenever he's gloomy! her being the first to thank him for opening up! THEY'RE LITERALLY THE DEFINITION OF SHE FELL FIRST BUT HE FELL HARDER! GOD IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM 😭😭😭 10/10

Tylenol/Tylo: i never thought of the prospect of them together, but post tumblr i must say its interesting. not just them being the single ones in the team, but i like the way tyler defended logan against barron, and his general protective aura around logan. but then again tyler was kinda rude to logan in the start. but then again it gives nerd x jock vibes which to me r pretty cool 5/10

Tyden: LMAO the continuous saga of them pissing tf out of each other. it would be fuckin hilarious if they somehow end up together. but apart from the general hilarious bickering, there's not too much to it 5/10

Tayden: goddamn their friendship is so precious!! her painting his nails? her carrying him on his shoulders in dat one artwork?PURE BESTIE VIBES they just match each other's freak lmfao. 8/10

Logden: meh there are not any significant moments between these two. would definitely be cute, but i can't see it happening lol 2/10

Loglor/Taygan: no but why can i actually see this happening lol. the way theyre both so gentle around each other! then the way she was the first to help him when he got slashed by the phantom? and also the way she stood up for him when tyler was being rude? Cute! 6/10

Benlyn: ooh the two quiet people of the gang! they could work out really well bcoz they definitely understand each other's struggles with muteness and phantom hearing respectively. plus that panel of ben braiding ashlyn's hair was so cute lmao :> 7/10

Loglyn: AAA they have sm potential!!! before the events of yk the whole ✨sAvAnNaH✨ mess, i feel like they wouldve been each other's only existing acquaintance they may call friends (ik it's not canon but it's very plausible lol) 6/10

Benlo/Logben: theyd definitely be good together, it's just that my sbg memory is failing to recall any significant moments b/w them ;-; if y'all remember pls do tell 4/10

Tyben: what is with the hernandez siblings always ending up being bens biggest supporters lmao XD it's a cute dynamic honestly 5/10

Taylyn: now this is one freakin adorable ship TvT. the way taylor always had a slight pang of concern for a friendless lonely ashlyn when they were kids? and the way they quite frankly became besties after enduring all the phantom world shit? very sweet lmao 7/10

Tylyn/Ashler: i have been usurped into the tylyn propaganda by @tragedry honestly I DO NOT COMPLAIN. like holy fuck they're so enemies to lovers! them "loathing" each other, fighting for leadership, but then immediately becoming possibly the biggest protectors of each other in times of danger??? extremely wholesome lmao i love them smmm 9/10

SO THE TOP SHIPS ARE:

3. TAYDEN (the crack ship) 😈🔥🥉

2. tie b/w TYLYN and AIDLYN (the wholesome ships) 😌👌🥈

1. BENLOR (THE PUREST SWEETEST MOST ADORABLE GOOFS EVERR I-) 🥺❤🥇

[chibi-pix]

So, back in October, my bestie gifted me Pokemon Shield for my birthday. And I've been slowly playing it (I'd been distracted with other games, drawing, and writing, so it's slow going) and I saw Perrserker for the very first time EVER. I've never seen it, not even art. I didn't research the game or the dex, I'm in this blind (so please, no spoilers). And. Normally I go "THE FREAK IS THAT?!", but when I saw this guy, I went "Ma! There's this weird freakin' cat!" like the one clip. My cats looked at me in confusion. But anyway, that happened yesterday and I knew I had to draw it. So I did that for tonight and I'm just so proud and happy. Y'know what? Perrserker has really grown on me. I might need to add the bugger to my party for for this moment.

Anyway! I hope y'all enjoy this one! Remember, commissions are open and available on my Ko-fi. Until next time!

[uniquevoidflowers]

Dunno what exactly this is BUT:

Ready y'all? I'm ranting about all my mutuals cuz y'all are so freakin amazing.

@mad-navi, I know we barely interact but I think you're pretty cool and I love reading your tags. I think it would be really fun to bake cookies with you.

@majorproblems77, Omg your writing is so good, I love reading your stuff! You know how to whump and angst, soooooo.. Your also pretty fun to talk to, and you have amazing ideas!!!

@strawberry-catcake, I could literally eat your art. I'm so in love with your art style. Just how you draw clothes and faces!!! But also I like talking to you, and you have good taste! Hugs for you 🫂

@akchimp75, your art style is so cute!!! I love your confidence, and I get ridiculously happy when you reblog, reply, or like any of my things.

@raeofsky, another mutual I don't interact with too often (even though I should), you seem really friendly and I love seeing your reblogs ❤️

@isasan347, my gosh your ideas, I actually love seeing your posts with gem, cause you two have such good ideas. And your art is so so brilliant. Another fun person to talk with!!!

@onceuponaladye, Gosh, I really like talking to you!!!! I'm giving you many hugs 🫂. You are really cool, and with the art I've seen, I can say that your art is really cool too. 💖

@kiwi-der-vogel, Your. Art. Is. So. Freakin. Fantastic. I'm in love with the bright colours you use and the jokes you make. Makes me laugh everytime!

@link-or-sherlock, Your art is literally so amazing. You have no idea how happy I was when you made those void flowers. AND I could probably talk to you for hours on end. Thanks for everything, and for adopting me <333

@ikaishere, your art is so marvellous, I love everything about it! Giving you internet hot chocolate for whumptober this year. Also, when did you follow me???/pos

@1000emotions, We should definitely talk more, you seem really cool. Love your ramblings!

@baileyboo2016, You are really funny/pos! From what I've seen, your art looks really cool. I love seeing you gush over characters, and I like your ideas!

@cal-the-imp, your photography my word...It's literally the best I've seen. Your poetry as well! 🫂🫂🫂

@finleyforevermore, you are literally so amazing and the sagas you have are hilarious. You also have some pretty good taste!!!

@/somebody-random-lol I don't know if you want me to tag you in this, but ily/plat, and I like talking to you :)

@justalilghosty, uh I don't think we've ever interacted but you're really cool. (sorry if this is a bother)

@frostedshadow, To this day, I'm still a little surprised you even know me/pos. You are literally so freakin cool, and I love talking to you.

@vio-starzz, uh you are literally so amazing, when did you follow me?! Love your writing and your art!!!

@prince-of-red-lions, Literally, so fantastic! il your art, you do a really good job with expressions!!! Giving you hugs 🫂! You are really friendly and deserve everything!!!!

@whyoneartheven, so sweet, so friendly, and you are so good at drawing!!! You are so fun to talk to, hope you have a lovely day/night!!!

@anadorablekiwi, anjbhshsbhhibihbh you are so fantastic!!! Been meaning to follow you for literally forever but forgot and only recently did. ❤️❤️❤️

@candy8448, you are so creative and your art is so cute! You also write really good! I'm eating your ideas nom nom.

@here4dragons, I know we haven't interacted too much, but you're SO cool!!! Giving you hugs 🫂

@almost-an-artist, your art is so adorable and we haven't been mutuals for long but you seem really really nice.

@r0achezz, your art and writing is just really good 💖, and you are really fun to talk to.

@i-am-1142,asdfergrhttge you're literally so cool and amazing and-

@margindoodles2407, Ahjisurehrijowretutrhyrt you are so creative and your art and writing is just ahhhhhhhhhhh, ilysm/p <3

@arsonisticscholar, il your ocs! I don't think we've interacted but you seem really fun and cool <3

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - Epilogue (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: SEX. FLUFF (!!). Cussing. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 2.6k

A/N:  Oh, lord, here we are. THE END. It seems highly fitting that it all comes to a close on our man's birthday. (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ELVIS DARLIN') 💗 So here's some tooth-rotting, sexy fluff for you because I love them and I love y'all.

I have heard your requests for a paperback/ebook loud and clear (ahhh, thank you!) and can tell you I am writing bonus material as we speak and working on the process of self-publishing through Amazon. I will warn you that the physical book is gonna be HUGE (my estimate is close to 600 pages with the bonus material added 😂), but that does mean the cost of the physical book will be a little spendy (not outrageous or anything) because of the cost of printing. Just wanted to let you know in advance!

Also, I know in the past that people were interested in me dropping in for a Q & A type thing on Discord or Twitter Spaces to talk about Pink Scarf...is this something y'all are interested in still? (If not, totally okay!) Let me know in the comments if that sounds like something you'd want!

I sincerely hope y'all will stick around for my next projects as I try to get my writing career off the ground. I'm hoping to soon have a website and an Amazon page up and running soonish so you can follow my other works. I'll keep you posted! Y'all are the OG's and the best fans a girl could ask for! 💗

If you so desire, you should now have the ability to tip my blog or different chapters in the story! Of course, no one is obligated to do so! If you do choose to tip, thank you so much! I've never had anyone want to pay for my work before, so this is a big step towards my romance novelist dreams. 💜

Finally, and I can't say this enough, I am so FREAKIN' GRATEFUL for every single one of you babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE EXTRAORDINARY! I didn't in a million years expect this kind of support and response for Pink Scarf, and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support and generosity. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

I also want to give a special shout out to my flower, Daisy, @powerofelvis for keeping me sane (relatively lol) and on track throughout this whole process. Thank you for all your encouragement and love (and for listening to me scream into the void), baby! 💜

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I know I'm terribly slow at getting to them but I love every single one!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my AO3 account, as well as my NEW Wattpad account. so if you are so inclined, you can check it out/support me over there with kudos and votes and whatnot!)

Graceland, New Year’s Eve, 1969

The mansion you now call home still sparkles with Christmas decorations as you make your way through the throng of friends and visitors, smiling and laughing, sipping on a delicious champagne that you are positive is ridiculously expensive for the way it melts on your tongue. Everyone is rested and in great spirits, as 1969 was a monumentally successful year for Elvis Presley Enterprises and all those involved.

For you, it’s been a monumental year in many ways. You would never have imagined six months ago that by the end of the year you’d be in the midst of divorcing Jack, preparing for your new career as a backup singer, and moving into Graceland with Elvis, who you are wildly, madly in love with.

A whirlwind, to say the least.

Speak of the devil, you feel that telltale rise of goosebumps on your skin, that magical sixth sense you are now so aware of when you know that Elvis is watching you. You turn from your conversation with Joe and his wife Joanie to find Elvis gazing at you from across the living room with a dangerously coy smile playing on his lips and that unmistakable glint in his eyes. The heat of the look sets your body aflame, a flush rising quickly to your cheeks.

Lord in heaven, this man, you think, giving him a furrow of your brow and a disbelieving look back, only this man would be so bold as to want to take me in the middle of a party at his own damn house.  

But damn it if he doesn’t even waver, completely uncaring that any of the guests might see the blatantly sexual, heated intensity of his stare. He calls it “that lean and hungry look,” and you cannot help the shiver that cascades down your spine because you know he’s about to eat you alive, party be damned.

And sure enough, he strides across the room as if no one else is here, and saying nothing at all, grabs your hand and yanks you away from your conversation. You briefly catch the look of surprise from Joanie and Joe’s smirk before being whisked away.

“Elvis!” you whisper loudly enough for him to hear you, “We have guests!” You manage to set your champagne flute on a nearby table before doubling your steps to try and keep up with his long strides.

He gives no indication of hearing you, though you know he has. But he is singularly focused, which sends warmth into your core and wetness already pooling in your panties because you know what’s coming.

He surprises you by not even making it up the stairs to the bedroom, instead pulling you into the half bathroom on the lower level. You yelp at the change in direction and then he’s slamming you up against the door while locking it at the same time.

Your yelp quickly turns into a quiet moan because his large hands and luscious mouth are suddenly everywhere, all at once. His lips crush into yours, then burn down your neck, sending fire into your belly, and you can’t help but respond. Your hands fly to his head, raking through his scalp. His hand grips the outside of your bare thigh, hitching it up to his waist, his hand slipping under the hem of your dress.

He rolls his pelvis slowly and deliberately into yours. He’s already rock hard, and the sensation of his bulge pressing into your core through his pants has you groaning a little too loud, considering you have a house full of people. Elvis doesn’t say a word though, he just smirks and places a ring-clad hand over your mouth.

That action alone has you melting into a puddle because you know, you just know how he’s going to take you: quick and dirty.

“You better be quiet, lil’ mama, or ev’ryone’s gonna know I’m fuckin’ ya senseless,” he whispers, his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear. You can smell the musk of arousal on him, the pheromones so strong they are nearly dizzying. He nibbles the lobe of your ear possessively. This action coupled with his words sends sparks showering through you.

You think you might come apart already, and he’s barely touched you.

His brilliant blues are blown black when he draws away. Free hand snaking up your thigh, his fingers first dance over your soaked panties, then dip them underneath the delicate fabric to graze up through your folds and straight to your clit.

Your eyes roll back, his hand muffling the moans that escape your throat involuntarily. He’s so worked up already, he doesn’t tease you long. Two long fingers plunge knuckle deep into your wet heat, the cold edges of his rings making you squirm a little at the intrusion. You begin panting into his hand as he so expertly thrusts and curves them to give you the maximum amount of pleasure as he stretches you out.

This doesn’t last long, though. He’s too far gone and much too needy for foreplay. A deeply primal instinct has taken over the man you love—you can see it written all over his handsome face. And you welcome it, even as you whimper at the loss of his digits when he unceremoniously pulls them out of you. You welcome it as he spins you around, pushing you up against the door. You welcome it gladly as he hikes your dress up to your waist and rips your lacy panties right off your body.

You gasp, hearing the tearing of fabric as your flushed cheek is pressed into the wood of the door, shivering both from the exposure of the air on your bare ass and for what you know is next. Soon after, you hear the clink of his heavy belt and the woosh of his pants as they thump to the floor and then he’s filling you so completely that you are clawing at the door for purchase.

He can’t stop the growl that comes from within when he sinks deep inside you to the hilt, bottoming out quickly. He’s impatient and does not linger, however, instead pulling back and thrusting into you hard, gripping your hips like his life depends on it.

You manage to keep your gasps quiet as he sets a relentless pace. Your entire body tingles, the obscene sounds from your joining sending you hurtling towards the edge of your own release. He knows your body so well, rubbing desperate circles on your clit that, along with the way he’s filling you, already has your legs shaking and abdomen tensing with pleasure.

Neither of you are going to last long. It’s evident as your breathing speeds up and the coil in your belly snaps, causing you to hit your climax hard with a strangled cry. The wave crests fast,and your walls tense and flutter around him. You love how he still can make you see stars, even in these circumstances. His hips stutter, the rhythm faltering, and he follows soon after you with a relieved and gracious groan, pulsing and coating your walls with his arousal.

Heavy breathing is the only sound in the tiny space. Elvis envelops you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your hair as he pulls you close. You live for these moments when he’s stripped vulnerable, his love so evident and overflowing, making even a bathroom quickie more like making love than you’d had in over a decade of marriage.

You sigh into him, and he kisses the back of your head. “Sorry about your panties, baby,” he whispers almost bashfully into your ear.

You can’t help but laugh, “At the rate you go through ruining them, you might as well just buy me the whole store, love.”

Elvis pulls out and turns you around, grasping your chin before pulling you into a deep kiss. It has you melting into his arms, but you know you can’t stay there long, not with a house full of people.

The swell of love you feel for this wonderful, talented, charismatic man is incredible. So many years of shared history has made it easy to slip into a comfortable life with him, so much so that you almost forget what your life was like before. It’s not without its challenges, certainly. He is still mercurial, and you still get locked up in your own head sometimes. The both of you are stubborn as hell, especially now that you’ve taken more agency for yourself in this relationship, more than you ever had with Jack.

As you pull apart and clean up, you feel incredibly lucky that things have worked out the way they have, despite so many years of struggles to make your way to each other.

Once put back together (though sure some of your guests will know exactly what was going on in the bathroom), you reach for the door. Elvis stops you.

“I was gonna wait ‘til midnight and make it a big thing, but I just can’t,” he drawls behind you.

“Wait for what?” you ask quizzically, turning around.

You gasp and your heart begins to gallop in your chest as you watch him sink to one knee as best he can in the tiny space. He pulls a little black box from his pocket. You’re afraid your heart might flutter right out of your body at the sight of it.

“You make me a better man, baby. I love you so much it hurts sometimes, and I thank God every day that He put you in my life. I can’t imagine tryin’ to go another day without you by my side. Now, I know it feels real soon, but if we’re honest, it’s been a long time comin’, and I-I-I know you’re still in the middle of the divorce and all, but y/n, would you do me the honor of bein’ my wife?” Elvis asks, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Your heart drops into your stomach. It’s both exhilaration and trepidation all at once, flooding every part of you. Part of you screams with excitement: Of course! Of course! Of course, I’ll be your wife!

But another part is filled with latent fear—fear of being consumed by another marriage so soon, still afraid that this man before you will love you and leave you like the rest. Elvis had said many times over the years that he wasn’t really interested in marriage, and you can’t help but think of that in this moment, as much as you don’t want to.

“Elvis,” you manage to breathe, “I thought…I thought you said you weren’t the ‘marrying kind’? That you didn’t want to be tied down? Are you…are you sure?”

You watch something flash in his eyes for a moment before he looks up at you again. He stands and takes your hands in his. “I-I said that cuz I didn’t think I could ever have you. I knew I couldn’t marry anyone else, wouldn’t be right. You’re the only one I ever truly wanted. I-I-I…you’re my soulmate, y/n. It’s only ever been you, honey,” he says quietly, laying it all out for you, as he pushes an errant strand of your hair behind your ear.

A happy tear trickles down your face. You know he loves you—he tells you every day. But this is so much more than that. You didn’t realize he’d put his entire life on hold for you like this. His soulmate.

As much as it scares you, you know it’s true. He’s right. This inexplicable pull that’s been between the two of you for all this time, the pull you tried so desperately to ignore and forget for so many years, is stronger than anything you’ve ever felt for anyone in your life. Every cell in your body yearns for him, and he feels like home. You fit together perfectly. Now that you’re finally in sync, everything just works.

You cannot ignore the truth that finding your way to each other after all these years feels utterly meant to be. He is there when you need him. He brings out a side of you that you never knew existed—in the bedroom, with your music, your unyielding love for him, even in the hardest moments.

The way he gazes at you now, full of hope and love, makes your knees weak. But part of you is still scared that it’s too soon, that you’ll lose yourself all over again.

Elvis reads your mind, sensing your doubts in that intuitive way of his. “The wedding part doesn’t hafta be right away…I know we gotta wait for the divorce to be final anyway. But whenever you’re ready, whenever you’re comfortable, I’ll be here,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours.

This sends a sense of relief through you, a release of pressure. Finally, you find your voice. “Let me be your everything?” you whisper, taking his face in your hands, your eyes searching his deep and worldly ones.

Elvis knows what you are asking of him, and he doesn’t think twice. His lips curl up into that beautiful grin of his as he nods. “Yes, everything,” he says back.

“Then yes, yes, I will be your wife,” you laugh, through more happy tears.

“Yes?” he asks joyfully, just to be sure.

“Yes!” you squeal as he scoops you up in his arms, pressing his pliant and soft lips to yours.

His hands shake adorably when he slides the tasteful yet extravagantly sized diamond on your ring finger.

And it sits perfectly, as though his ring was always meant to be there. You both stare at it for a moment, your hand resting on top of his.

Squeezing your hand, Elvis looks at you with a boyish kind of awe. “Are you happy, baby?” he asks quietly, his long lashes fanning out as he runs his eyes over your face.

A moment of déjà vu hits you. He’s asked you this before, many different times, and those moments flash through your head, reminding you of your deep history together. The history you now remember and share.

All he’s ever really wanted to do is make me happy, you realize. The thought sends warmth blooming through you.

You look up at him, into that handsome face that you want to spend eternity with. “Oh, I’m more than happy, my love,” you respond. And you are. So much so, you almost don’t believe it.  Then you pull him down for a sweet, soft kiss. He drinks you in as if you are oxygen, bringing you closer.

“Are you happy?” you ask as you nuzzle his nose.

“Darlin’, I’m so happy I wanna sing from the rooftop,” he drawls, grabbing your ass. “I’ll marry ya right here in this damn bathroom, if I gotta. Gonna make you Mrs. Y/n Presley. Then I wanna parade you around and let everyone know you’re mine.” He almost growls the last part and presses his long body into yours.

You laugh. “Well, I don’t think we have to resort to getting married in the bathroom, but Mrs. Y/n Presley has quite the nice ring to it,” you say, smiling, putting your hands in his back pockets.

“I love you,” Elvis says unabashedly, suddenly serious.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, kissing him again. “Now let’s go tell everyone how I’m gonna make an honest man out of you.”

He laughs at that, a big and boisterous sound that makes your own heart sing.

And it will do so for the rest of your days.

*THE END*

Please let me know in the comments/DMs/asks if you are interested in me doing a Pink Scarf Q & A type thing on Discord/Spaces! 💗🧣💗

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211  @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy  @amiets2  @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals  

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch  @tattywood 

@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23 @ab4eva 

@fic-over-cannon @lacyluver @littlebitofgreen @paigevis @godlypresley @bugg06 @xhannahbananax03

Reblogs, likes, comments + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

[ifonly1]

Jimin's crime is him thinking that there's people out there that will be happy to get jungkook's update but here's them crying 😂

That's some 10k+ followers account mind you so the people who thinks "jikookers and taekookers are the same" i dare you to bring me some 2 10k followers jkkrs account who acts like this towards taehyung cause i can easily bring some 10-20 accounts like this with much more following.

And I'm like 1000% sure when they get an update from taehyung about jungkook (be it him meeting jungkook or him posting pictures with Jungkook) they'll be on cloud nine and mark my words you'll see tweets saying "omgg 😭 the first thing they did after getting vacation is meeting e/o. They can't live w/o eachother, sk i hate you, don't separate them", "he couldn't help himself posting his boyfriend as soon as he got time" 😌

Only mentally unstable people would get mad at someone for giving updates about their fav and telling them he's doing fine at freakin military. I remember when jm was inactive when they got their Instagram and then later we found out he was covid+ nd a appendix surgery and how hobi used to give little updates here and there and how everyone was so happy nd used to wait if hobi gives any jm update. Even pjms were greatful to hobi but i for a fact know that jungkook solos aka jjks aka many closeted tkkrs would write same essays as above. *Sighh* my boy being too good for this fandom 80% filled with Tkkrs.

They were so happy when taehyung used to give us updates on what where he went with jungkook, and how he plays video games with jungkook, and how he's at jungkook's house, so if all these updates used to make us happy why they suddenly mad when jimin is doing the same? And here thing is literally about military....they be dragging jikook saying how taehyung used to mention jungkook on his promotions so is the military updates where one is saying the other is doing wrong??? Shouldn't they feel relieved that jungkook is doing great? If a hangout update can make us happy shouldn't a freakin doing great in military update should make us feel wayy more happy? Then why the outrage? Hypocrite much?

If he mentions jungkook then he's leech if he doens't then "see? Told y'all he only cares about jk for cameras" dangg. Good thing jm is an inactive Person on sns so he doens't see all this shit.

[enderblogs-25]

Y'all.

There's people in my neighborhood installing fiber optic internet for schools (I think?) and they've been digging up everyone's yards. TODAY, I decided to check out three of the holes in my yard, and the following rocks were the result :3

I always find the two on the top, but in pieces. They crumble so easily! These ones are solid though, which I've never seen. I have no idea what the one on the bottom left is, so I'mma take it to the rock man so he can tell me what the hell it is. The bottom right is INTERESTING. When I was washing off the rocks in the driveway, this dude was BUBBLING. I /think/ that makes it a limestone, but it feels like a type of sandstone?? I'm not entirely sure and my rock book isn't being very helpful.

The second picture is what I believe to be a type of quartz, but I like it because it's a lil puzzle!!!! I found each piece individually, and put them together on a whim haha.

The THIRD picture… Y'all. These. Are FOSSILS. Specifically, they're baculite fossils! The area I live in is full of these dudes, because my area of my world was underwater when they were alive. So they were EVERYWHERE, just like antelope and prarie dogs are all over our area today.

Here's a bonus picture of me in one of the holes 😁 My mom wanted one of the rocks on the wall of the hole, so I got in and started hammering at it LOL. I'm squatting here, it isn't that deep.

Literally, this was the best day. I've wanted to straight up dig holes in my yard for rocks my ENTIRE life. If anyone thought I wasn't gonna take advantage of this situation... I'm so freakin happy lol. It's taking all of my self control not to explore the neighbors' holes and dirt piles.

[pajarinwrites]

EXO recs

directory | general masterlist

✨ favourites

OT9 / Multi

an adventurer's guide to romance ✨ @guardians-of-exo & @softly-savage-mint-yoongi i'm not giving up hope that they'll still post Jongin, Jongdae, and Baekhyun TT, fantasy!au, i haven't read all of them yet but yixing and yeol are so good i refuse to believe any of the others could disappoint

EXO Mall ✨ @yehet-me-up i don't know why everyone and their mother does EXO series, but i am definitely not complaining, junmyeon's was adorable, xiumin's is brilliant, i'm sure the others are just as great

EXO as Rich Kids @spacequokka EXO has more group series than every other group combined, every time i find a good fic it's part of a series like what? so far i've read jongdae's it's super cute

Xiumin

don't call it a love song (EXO mall series) ✨ @yehet-me-up 16.8k deserves it's own mention bc music nerd minseok?? rocker minseok?? bookstore owner!reader??? it's like this thing was written specifically for me, i ate this shit up it was so cute, their interactions were so cute, probably my favourite idiots2lovers ff, the snow scene, the singing scene, the dancing scene, the everything scene, minseok being a simp regularly, there is no fault in this ff, i'm gonna stop now i could keep going god help me

burning bridges @kwanisms 1.5k this hurt me, it's angst, it's not exactly happy, the synopsis tells you as much but every time i still read it and think maybe, maybe...

Suho

the meet cute (EXO mall series) @yehet-me-up 4.5k also deserves it's own mention, dilf!junmyeon??? how does writer know all of my favourite things in the world?? TT the antique store thing suits our leader so well, why is he so attractice? and his sungmin is super cute argh, i have beef with this ff because why is it so short TTTTT

Lay

you work too hard @cxsmicmyeon 0.7k just some domestic fluff with workaholic yixing, i'm projecting so hard onto this fic omg

extraordinary ✨ (an adventurer's guide to romance) @softly-savage-mint-yoongi & @guardians-of-exo 10k apothecary!yixing, yixing with glasses(!!!!!!), he's so sweet in this, they're both so cute, it's one of my favourites of the series so it deserves a special mention here

Baekhyun

inquiring minds @papermatisse 2.7k professor!baekhyun, i don't know what is up with exo-ls but y'all always find my most absolute favourite au versions for the boys like fr what's going on, anyway, this was soo freaking good! i read a professor one about woozi (svt) that was trying to do what this ff did but...., and now i get to read the concept executed perfectly, i'm screaming ugh

Chen

disclaimer: these are obviously works of fiction and they take place in non-canon universes. we all wish jongdae and his family only the best, duh. if you're uncomfortable with reading ff about him, skip ahead. me, personally, i'd like to keep a little delulu corner in my daydreams available for him &lt;3

CEO!Jongdae ( EXO as Rich Kids series) @spacequokka 0.5k it's so short TT but it's super sweet, the last line really got me, too

Chanyeol

kissed barely awake @irregular-idol-imagines 0.6k this confused me but it was so cute and fluffy that i didn't really care tbh

the doctor will see you now @kwanisms 4.5k this was kinda unhingend, in the best way possible, that's a high compliment in this context, incubus!yeol? i didn't think i'd like that premise but i did, i loved the slight horror aspects, the ending?? and how it linked back to the beginning? borderline genius, chapeau

D.O.

spellbound ✨ @whimsical-ness 6.7k ahhh this is soooo good, their dynamic is so nice, kyungsoo is such a freakin' cutie i cannot, and the other member cameos are so fitting ugh i love this so much

but you're warm... @kwanisms 0.5k ew this is so cute, i love cuddly, clingy kyeongsoo TT

Kai

movie night @galaxybam2 0.8k reading this taught me things about myself i'd have preferred not to know. enjoy, sluts (affectionately)

Sehun

spellbound @navellera 6k this doesn't feel like 6k, it was over in the blink of an eye, one of the only sehun ff i've read so far that i could actually stand, most of them (that i've looked at so far) have really weird writing in that the author puts weird sentences in a row that feel disconnected and irrelevant to one another sometimes, this one didn't have that, also, i've been looking for some hogwarts!exo and this really scratched that itch

[junk-whunk-punk]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEARIE !! 🧡🩷🖤

Me, the trash-ip raccoon, wish you the loveliest day (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡ Thanks for being so nice and for the whole angbang/silvergifting fun!!

YOU. ARE. CRUEL. BESTIE. HELL. I. LOV. YOU. SO. FREAKIN. MUCH. I. CAN'T. STAND. THIS. <333333333

i'm shocked kittos y'all look like a love army stirring my kiss instinct and making me salute and then hug u immediately I FALL FOR U OHHHHH U MY SOURCE OF INSPIRATION❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹💋✨✨✨✨✨ i feel so valid AAAAAAAAAA

*this bro is crying don't blame me*

[vintagelacerosette]

hey you! can you believe it’s the end of the year? 🥳✨🥂

to wrap up another fucking fantastic year of loving on ian & mickey & each other, please share:

your favorite thing you created this year

a fanfic that you can’t wait to reread

a piece of fan art you can’t stop thinking about

happy new year! cheers to another go around the sun! xx

Happy happy new year Bee 🥳🎉 This has been an amazing year for me engaging in fandom in a way i wish i had when i was younger and I couldn't be more thankful I was able to find you all 🥰 I love y'all & wishing so much abundance for the new year for all of us 💖

1. Favourite thing you created this year?

have to say I'm pretty proud of all the things I've been creating this year & having the courage to share them 🥰

My faves have been my good omens au, macy's GGE2022, holiday card & watercolour stargazing ✨️

And also a shout out to the birthday art I've made too! I loved making the crystals for you, gallacats & cow's for leah 💕

2. A fanfic you can't wait to reread?

There was sooo many amazing fics this year that I read 🥰

Anything by @goodkwuestion especially faffy & tipdig these fics strike my core & are sensational 💖

@captainjow l Let the bodies do the talkin' it's absolute 🔥🔥🔥

@annatrow My Nine Lovers is absolute thrill to read ❤️‍🔥

@jomilky fics are amazingly smutty 🌶

@celestialmickey yqhbr is an amazing fic & an authentic read on the tumblr experience. Adored making fanart for this 🥰

@look-i-love-u Flower u-up gives me heart flutters 💐

@suzy-queued These foolish games & my GGE2022 The birkenshire trials are such fantastic fics 🔫💖

@crazynadine the cauldron born series has amazing freaking lore & magical setting depth 🔮

@squidyyy23 Dancing after death is amazing! ⛓️

@crossmydna sizzling tension of That's a Wrap is spectacular id love more of them 🎥

@depressedstressedlemonzest I adore their fics & this build-a-bear fic had me melting 🐻

@whatthebodygraspsnot Sweetpea is brilliant got me seeing every black cat on tumblr as 'im 🐈‍⬛️

This is not a Fairytale by bluebirdeywrites is a pixie au treasure i didn't know i needed 🧚‍♀️

@lalazeewrites Of going home has immaculate world building of the superhero au 💪

@gallavichgeek Only fans series is fantastic 📹

@abundanceofnots Agents of undead chaos is a whimsical adventure 💭

@sunoficarus weaver of fate (to your will i won't fold) is a glorious fic ✨️

@beebabycastiel A Little Bit of Tender Mercy, these guys are so freakin cute i cant even 😆💘

an exception to the rule by you is an exquisite fic 😍

@howlinchickhowl Ristretto is a fic that gives me so much feels ☕️💕

@flamingbluepanda The Wonder of You cute soulmate fic that i had the pleasure to read before posting 😘

@notherenewjersey Love, guaranteed, love this fic just makes my heart full ⚖️

@ mmmichyyy The silence is all we have, god this is so wonderfully emotional & riveting ♥️

@very-sleepy-head Kinky advent calendar was delightful 🔥

3. Pieces of fanart you can't stop things about?

Buckle up bc we so blessed as a fandom 🥰

My breathtaking commissions made by the magnificent @darthvaders-wife here gave me everything I wanted & more 💙

This comic by @psychicskulldamage mick's booty in Ian's eyes? Instead of heart eyes it's peach eyes 😂 I need your art tattooed on me 😍

The tenderness of @heymrspatel in this piece just gives me the ✨️oh✨️ feeling all the time

Your art too Bee here pulls on my heart strings wow ��

@mishervellou s all of paola's are phenomenal & i simply adore dancing painted kiss art 💋

@adakechi art is holy wow & stunning 😭

@milkoviched sweater weather art had bubble butt & bubble bulge 🍑🍆💕

suzy-queued gallacrafts has my jaw on the floor every time like this one! Omg the craftsmanship 💖

@imikhailotakeyouian chibis bring me immense joy 💕

@ianandmickeygallavich i like em sweet craft was sooo creative i love it 🍬

@deathclassic such beautiful art here ✨️

@gallavichiscomfort absolutely precious chibi art i need stickers 😍

@mikhailoisbaby snuggle husbands 🌈

@ divine-gallavich pls take my money these pieces are phenomenal 🥹

@tsuga-of-mars gallacraft is soft, sensitive & magical! Just so them 💘

@creepkingin c incredible book binding 💚

@takeyourpillsbitchh artwork of one of my fave scene is amazing 🤚

@filorux art here with Ian's mesmerising eye & pocket mickey love!!! 😍

@y0itsbri tomato king ian 🍅

@grumpymickmilk gallavich picrew is sensational 👏

@ steorie comic is spectacular omg the details ❤️‍🔥

@mikcrymilkovich oh this art is beautifully tender 🧡

@clingymickey cute snuggling husbands in bed art 🌙

@friend-bear art has a beautifully intense colour scheme 🧡💜

@doodlevich family pride comic is the sweetest 🌈🥰

I'm loving on gif makers too bc they're damn artists too 😍

@mrsinistertype my first gifted gif set & it makes my heart burst ily 😘💘

@ gallavichsbitch gif set makes me all emotional i need some monumental instrumental music here 🥹

@sluttymickey this gif set has me in stitches omg 🤣

celestialmickey set here mesmerising with angel numbers 🥹💖

@gardenerian this set magical & heart melting 🥰

@7x10mickey big ole mo everybody 🌈

@mixkeymilkovich gif set mickey is all that & more 🥰

@sisitrip winter gif set so beautiful ❄️

@sickness-health-all-that-shi t have you ever seen so eyes so blue in this set 💙💙

@imikhailo beautiful rainbow set for beautiful rainbow boy 🌈

@themilkoviches text gif posts are hilarious omg i love 🖤

@usermikhailo this colour combo of this gif set is perfection 🧡💚

Also astounding video art by @southsidesadness gives me literal chills all the dang time 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

[lesbiangummybearmafia]

The Gilded Age, 02x07, Wonders never Cease. My thoughts

This episode was a fucking roller-coaster of a ride! One moment I'm crying then next I'm happy for someone, next I'm completely suspicious of one certain rich mrs. pain in ass.

First to everyone that was on to Muade Beaten right off the bat y'all get million brilliant points and I completely apologize for ever doubting any of you. Omg y'all were so right!! I truly didn't believe she was part of the scam. She freakin good! Give her award for that shit. At the same time I'm sad because I wanted her to be on the up and up. I really liked her, especially with Oscar. They made a cute couple. Omg poor Oscar, I just wanted to hug him when he started crying at John's place and I started crying for Oscar. Then when he tells Aunt Agnes how much money he lose, I started crying for all of them. Because I thought he had just used his individual money for the investment not his mother's money also. That's when I was oh no no no Oscar!! This has to be ok somehow, it just has too.

Then if that wasn't hard enough they have Luke pass away. I was just sobbing when Aunt Ada woke up he was gone. It's just awful that they were together for such a short time. Aunt Ada deserves so much more than just a taste of happily married bliss. My heart just brakes for her. At the same time I am glad she got to be loved like that and love someone in that way.

I did love what Aunt Agnes said to Luke when they were alone. It was also wonderful getting to see that side of her, Aunt Agnes truly loves and cares for her family. Even though she has this tough outer exterior, once you get pass that she's quite loving and she a softness about her. I like how she take her role as head of her family, all her family seriously. Aunt Agnes will always be the strength, the backbone, the true North for them. No matter if it takes kicking their ass or loving them like mad but most likely both she will be there doing it. Aunt Agnes over this season especially has become another of my favorite characters.

Ok once again not enough Bertha in the episode! I think we got spoiled last season because the show kinda revolved around Bertha and the Russell's. But this season their expending the other characters story lines more so we're getting less of what I want the most Bertha. Maybe they could made TGA two hours long episodes. I totally watch them!!

But onto what we did get. First fucking Mrs. Astor, suddenly all oh I got you box at the Academy of music. Yea like Bertha wasn't gonna be what this bitch up to. Mrs. Astor overly nice, her voice dripping with enough sugar put Bertha into glucose shock. Mrs. Astor should work on her fake nice act it's really transparent to anyone that can smell bullshit at 1000 feet. Then the stunt she pulled at Aurora's just made her look stupid not Bertha. But I so did love Bertha's crystal clear No, than she's all look bitch I never told you for sure I was doing that. Why are bringing up now, don't look so smug you haven't won anything. I'm not about to be your lackey. Mrs. Astor getting all huffy and leaveing she's just so pathetic omg. Mrs. Astor really thought she got the better hand of Bertha Russell with her stealing the Duke not with standing. But she simply can't Bertha far more intelligent, cunning, calculated and purely ruthless then Mrs. Astor. On flip side of that Bertha is also friendly, sweet, fun, kind and sincere. Where Mrs. Astor full of crap there's nothing sincere about her, she's all fake nice and attitude. I think she far to use to people kissing her ass and getting her way. We all know Bertha isn't going to do that. I'm so ready to see what happens at the opening night at both opera houses!!

I'm so happy for Jake! Mr. Bannister all casual oh I write my friend in German clock makers group for you. I really do like how there like a little family at the Van Rhijn house (with the exception of Armstrong). I really hope Jake gets his pattern, then goes on to be a clock maker if that's what he wants.

I don't have any idea why Marian is trying to convince herself to marry Dashiell. She's not in love with him, what she going to do wait until she's actually married to the man than be like I made mistake here. I wish she could be as brave for herself as she for everyone else. It's like this all she think she deserves is a loveless marriage at least on her side so she'll doom herself to it. Instead of being brave and looking for what deserves a love like Aunt Ada found. Which might be with one Larry Russell.

I adored the scene with Bertha and George. It's always a treat getting to see Bertha with her hair down all related in her night clothes. I really love that show has a in love married couple at core of it. It's not too much or too little, it's just right as Goldie Locks would say. They have reached the ideal balance for a loving marriage couple in a series, now all other series take note please. They are very endearing. When Bertha sat on George's lap such a romantic thing to do. I really do enjoy their scene together. Ever if their just talking. 😍

I was hoping George would end up being a good guy with his workers, treat them as human beings but so far he's still being ruthless ass. It's so hard with him, when he's with Bertha and his children I really like him, but as soon as he's all business I can't stand him. It drives me nuts.

I'm so happy to see Peggy stand her ground. But I do wonder how long that's going to go on for? Her boss doesn't even seem to give a second thought about his wife or family, just going to listen to his dick. Because let's be honest that's what he's doing. I just don't like him there's something about him the rubs me the wrong way, beyond the I'm so easily willing to cheat on my wife. I definitely feel he's done this before. Peggy might want to find out how many other babies he has around! I just get this feeling off him it's more like he wants to own Peggy untilhe gets bored then he moves on to the the next woman. I hope a really good guy comes into Peggy's life that's not married and sweeps her off her feet.

I really like what Larry did with his speech making sure that at least people in that room which did include the President know that Mrs. Roebling did the work on Brooklyn Bridge. I hope she knew that she wasn't forgotten in history. I learned about her college in my women in America history course. Now thanks to The Gilded Age so many more know her incredible story and she's come back to life in a way that makes the history even more exciting.

Oh I almost... I love when Mr. Baudin ask Mrs. Bruce if she going to watch the fireworks. I was omg the roof of the house! Because that house has to tall enough. I was happy I was correct. I thought I was so sweet he took up there so she could see them. I really like them together. I hope they become a couple. Makes me think of Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson in a way.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

"The best revenge..."

...is living and eating WELL while (and in spite of) living in poverty.

I actually had the gumption to try and have a cafe 30 or so years ago, and I live with a guy who had his own bakery: a Danish-trained Chef currently working as a Sous Chef at a big hotel in The City, and his 21 yr old son (who has literally been an assistant sous chef to his dad his whole life).

We're all barely afloat, his son is looking for his first real job-job "out there", and getting discouraged. Y'all hear regularly about my poverty status, and my roomie chef is doin' as much as he can, and we're all three freakin' broke.

Fuck it. We may be broke, but we are are gonna Eat as best we can with what we got. So to the current example.

Yes, I know how to cook Mexican Food like any native ex-south-texan worth his salt and lime. Yes I learned how mama/grandma did it, either mine or someone else's.

Roomie and I are carnivores, son is veg. We all agree that Mexican Food is good, so I'm always looking for how to spend my "old-fuck-on-food-stamps EBT the best way.

Behold, Example 1: 20 lb. bag of dried pinto beans.

20 lbs for $17. And lookee there: it's Fiesta, no stranger to this former Austinite. And anyone who knows knows that this boy knows how to make a pot o'pintos, with/without carnivorousness. Keep 'em on the stove long enough you got Refrieds.

Somebody at Groce-Out is from Texas, gotta be: They have Velveeta and Rotel (for QUESO!) at near-normal prices! I laughed today. Velveeta was 6.99 at Groce-Out, and I shit you not, $14.95 at Lucky.

Got that along with a couple 2-lb bags of their "Hollis Street" whole bean French Roast (Dark) for $11.95 ea. This is surprisingly good coffee beanage, freshly roasted right up the road in Emeryville, evidently. So good coffee for cheap. A similar brand at the 'non discount' grocery store I go to is $21 for a 2lb bag.

While they aren't the winner in the coffee bean competition, Lucky (the non-discount store) is great for meat, especially mid-week, when they have lots of specials. Their "megapaks" of chicken thighs (10/pkg) were buy one get one free. So for ten bucks, I got 20 thighs (over 7lbs), which, when roasted with lots of salt and pepper, and cooled and shredded and deboned become something like 4 pounds of Chicken Enchilada Meat. For ten bucks.

Tomorrow I go to another discount store closeby roomie told me about that has the best commercial Hatch Chile in a jar I have ever found. Tastes like mine, when we would get a case at a time at Central Market, get 'em roasted in the parking lot, and take 'em home and shuck most of the the skins/seeds, and saute onion and garlic and add. In. A. Fucking. Jar.

So you see where this is heading.

We will be having a TexMex Enchilada/taco Feast that can be repeated at will until we've eaten/given enough away. Freezer. Vacuum sealer. Oooooooom.

And yeah, we got the dessert thing covered. I buy flour, the three sugars, butter, real cream, good organic milk, good brown eggs. I bake everything from fucking scratch. I buy berries and grapes as my main fruit. I don't buy a lot of processed ANYTHING. I buy ingredients. And bread/tortillas, obvs. And I'm happy I have the "card" that gives me my eeked-out apportionment of "food funds".

So that old adage of "The Best Revenge" being "living well" means we may be fucking poor, but goddammit, we are gonna Eat, with a capital E if I have anything to say about it.

All three of us are pretty much clinging to the same leaky life-raft, this accursed but oh-so-necessary apartment, not much overlap in our lives/diets/schedules, but every once in awhile I get to go back into "restaurant mode" and do up a Massive Feed. Share with the neighbors and stock the freezer.

And a pot of beans on the stove in perpetuity.

[destinyc1020]

I will never understand why Z went public with JE. But was so secretive with T. Why go public with a rebound but not with love of your life?

Y'all need to let that go.

And I've said more than once on my blog that I don't think it was a conscious decision on her part to "go public". JE was the one who pulled her into a kiss.... probably to let the paps get whatever "shot" they needed so that they could stop being followed everywhere they went in NYC. 🤷🏾‍♀️

That's just my guess anyway.

He might have also been an opportunist cuz I'll never forget how more fans were talking and excited about Z and Timmy being spotted in a BB&B together in NYC than JE and Z being together lol. 😅 JE probably wanted ppl to know..."don't get it twisted, we're not JUST friends" lol 😆

Could there have been some petty in there as well? Maybe. If Tom broke things off with Z, then yea.... it could have been a way to kind of rebel. I've done some petty things in the past after a breakup myself ngl lol 😆 🙃

Those photos just looked waaaay too over-the-top to be "real" and genuine imo. Was she trying to play up how "happy" and "moved on" she was? Maybe? 🤷🏾‍♀️ They obviously knew they were being photographed, and there's NO way that dude is THAT funny lol 🤣 Especially when we've NEVER seen Tom and Z laughing like hyenas while walking out in public lol 😆 , and imo, Tom is hilarious.

To me, stuff that's over-the-top like that looks staged, forced, fake, and PR-ish (jmho 👀).

You don't need to prove smthg to others when it's a REAL relationship that you're actually happy and content in lol.

Also, keep in mind, JE was a rebound. I'm sure Z was having fun with him, but no way do I think she felt the same way about him as she did for Tom. No freakin' way. You tend to PROTECT and hold more sacred the rlshps that you really care about most and deeply. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Maybe he coaxed her, and she was like, fine, what's there to lose? I already broke up with the love of my life anyway.

[greenticklerdreams]

when you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! then send it to the last ten people in your notifications (anonymously). you never know who might benefit from spreading positivity. 💝

I got this twice! Y'all are so nice. Let me think about stuff OTHER than horrendously flustering tickle vids for a few minutes, I could use a cooldown.

Coffee. French press, pour over, espresso. Black, or with a little half and half, or a cappuccino or a flat white if I'm going out. Almost always hot - I only get cravings for iced coffee in the summer, and I love it with condensed milk when I get some.

TTRPGs, whether I'm playing or GMing. It lets me put my old acting, directing, and writing skills all to the test at once. It's my favorite thing to do with friends and one of my favorite creative endeavors. I've done D&D, of course, but also HeroSystem, Legend of the Five Rings, 7th Sea, Traveller, and currently, Lancer, just to name a few.

The Legend of Zelda. I could just say "viddiya gaems" in general but this series makes me the warmest and fuzziest. Never played a bad one. They're all wonderful.

Writing. Yeah, this is related to the last one, but... this community is making me remember how much I love it. I hadn't written much but RPG scenarios for years. Now I've got freakin' fanfic WIPs again like I'm in middle school again, haha. This was always the one art form I was maybe a little good at, or the one anyone actually said I was any good at, at least.

Fruit. Just about any fruit. Raw, baked, juice, you name it. If I go a day without any (and that's rare), I'm just a little bit sadder for it. You could probably ban white sugar from my life and I'd be fine as long as I still had fruit. (...maybe not chocolate, though. Chocolate's pretty great.)

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - Part 19 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: References to sex. Continued ANGST. Medication/drug use/overdose mentions. Dub con mentions(sort of?). Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 8.1k

A/N: Thank you for your patience, my beautiful lil mamas, Part 19 is finally here! We are back in Reader's headspace, and lordy, oh lordy, it's A LOT...just remember, I DID warn and promise y'all pain before a happy ending. And the end is coming soon. 😭 I know, babies, I know. 💖

If you so desire, you should now have the ability to tip my blog or different chapters in the story! Some of you have been asking about this, and of course, no one is obligated to do so! If you do choose to tip, thank you so much! I've never had anyone want to pay for my work before, so this is a big step towards my romance novelist dreams. 💜

I am so FREAKIN' GRATEFUL for every single one of you babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE EXTRAORDINARY! I didn't in a million years expect this kind of support and response for Pink Scarf, and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my AO3 account, as well as my NEW Wattpad account. so if you are so inclined, you can check it out/support me over there with kudos and votes and whatnot!)

Silence.

For the first time in over a week, you aren’t bombarded with images of the past or worries for the future as your subconscious desperately tries to guide you places you are not ready to go to yet. As you stir awake, you feel somewhat rested, peaceful almost. Your eyes flutter open and even though the room is dim, you still squint and hiss at the light that pierces through your eyes and seems to rocket through your head like a spear. You can’t help but groan a little at the pain behind your eyes.

The room is not familiar, however, which sets you on edge, that peacefulness of good sleep draining from you quickly. Frantically, you try to puzzle out where you are and how you got here but thinking sends a wave of nausea through you that you can’t ignore. You groan again at the feeling and crack your eyes open the slightest bit.

A man, first crouched in the uncomfortable looking chair he’s perched in, sits up ramrod straight at your movements. Despite the dark circles around his eyes, he’s a vision to behold. You know without a doubt he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on, what with his high cheekbones, lusciously pouty lips, and chiseled jaw covered in what looks to be a day’s worth of dark stubble. Raven hair frames his face, thick sideburns curling at his ears and locks haphazard on his forehead. And those eyes, dear lord, those impossibly long, dark lashes rim his eyes. His eyes, which feel as deep and dark blue as the ocean itself, cut through the fog in your head, widening and looking over you with care and concern.

You know those soulful, familiar eyes anywhere.

Elvis.

You blink and the world starts to snap into focus. Through the pain and nausea, you take in your surroundings. The uncomfortable bed you’re in. The IV in your arm. The dreary paint on the walls. The smell of antiseptic.

The hospital. You are in the hospital.

This must be why Elvis looks positively distraught, his large hand now frantically grasping at yours on the bed. You swear he is shaking, steadied only once he touches you and a wave of relief falls over his handsome yet worried features.

“Y/n. Oh thank God, y/n,” he murmurs. “Are you okay? How do you feel? What do you remember?” he barrages you with questions that you aren’t sure you have the answers to yet, especially with the way your head is pounding so distractingly. For some reason, the whole scene suddenly strikes you as silly, what with the most famous man in the world looking at you so damn seriously. You can’t help yourself.

“Who…who are you?” you croak out quietly, your unused voice cracking.

The look on his face is priceless as he rolls through shock, terror, and dismay all at once. His face falls dramatically then and there is no way you can keep up the pretense because the little boy look that comes over him is just too much.

“Gotcha,” you chuckle, cracking a smile that suddenly makes your face feel like it’s on fire and making you regret your smile instantly.

“You little minx,” he growls, a relieved grin spreading over his face before he sees the pain on your face. “You’re hurtin’. Goddammit, I should’ve killed him…” he mutters heatedly under his breath.

It takes more than a moment to process what he is saying and connect that with the burning tightness of the left side of your face. You bring your hand up slowly, gingerly touching the unfamiliar swollen, hot flesh of your cheek. You can’t help but hiss at the painful sensation that runs over you when you do so.

You close your eyes, feeling Elvis’ heavy but comforting hand squeeze yours.

What in the hell happened?

Reaching back in your memory, you attempt to piece together why you are here, why you are in so much pain. Dread fills your heart as flashes of memory come at you:

Jack accosting you in the bathroom.

Losing his mind at seeing the hickies on your breast.

Him dragging you out and humiliating you in front of everyone.

Then…then…

Oh, god.

Jack did this. He hit you.

Your head falls back, and you cover your eyes with your free hand. A wave of shock, then a wave of deep sadness overcomes you. Hot tears spring to your eyes and spill down your cheeks and you don’t attempt to stop them. The salt of them stings the abrasions on your face.

How could he? How could he?

Sobs wrack your body, each one a pulse of pain through your head, shooting red-hot through you. You knew, you knew deep down it was over, but you never expected it to come to this. You never thought Jack had it in him to truly hurt you. But you are lying in a hospital bed, living proof that the man you once loved was truly gone.

And it feels devastating, yet also strangely relieving, in a way you could’ve never imagined.

“Oh, Satnin, baby. Oh, I’m so, so sorry,” Elvis whispers at you, clutching your hand, his concern evident but unsure.

The wave of devastation crashes over you, both the physical and psychic pain nearly unbearable as it throbs in your head. You feel utterly raw. Humiliated. Gutted. Guilty. Relieved. Furious.

The sudden image of slapping Jack’s face as he knelt bloody on the floor resonates through you, the sting still evident in your palm.

Elvis had almost killed Jack, blinded by a protective rage, you now remember. You’d stopped him.

Part of you wishes you hadn’t.

It all feels quite unreal yet simultaneously overwhelming, all these flashes of memory hitting you in rapid succession. And you know there are more troubling memories waiting in the wings, ready to knock you off your feet once again. You can sense them lingering at the edges of your mind, somehow closer than they have ever been but still just out of reach.

All at once you don’t feel strong enough to bear them.

Everybody knows, you suddenly realize. Your affair with Elvis was now out there for everyone to see, for everyone to judge. You open your tear-filled eyes to look at the beautiful man before you, the one you love so much it feels as though it might destroy you, because god knows you haven’t forgotten that. You cannot bring yourself to regret being with him, no matter if it led you to be here, broken and battered in a hospital bed in Las Vegas.

But something is not right. Something besides the obvious. And it’s right there, just out of view.

Your head hurts too much to dwell on it, however.

“I’m gonna take care of you baby,” Elvis finally says after what you realize is too many moments of silence. “Don’t you worry about a thing. I won’t let him hurt you ever again.”

The way he says it so softly and with such righteous conviction strikes something within you. The clasp of his hand on yours is almost too tight, the look on his face both filled with remorse and determination. You know what he says is true—he will not leave you to face this alone.

Despite this, the uncomfortable elephant in the room lingers: you would not be here if not for Elvis, and you both know it.

But with the pain in your body and the ache in your heart, that is not a mountain you can begin to climb yet. There are too many unanswered questions that you need to figure out and this is not the time or place. So, you let Elvis hold your hand with that mournful look in his churning eyes and you try to heal.

*

“Watch your step, watch your step!” Elvis supports you gingerly, his strong arm holding you at the waist, as if just walking will shatter you into a thousand pieces.

“E, I’m okay. I promise I can walk on my own. It’s just one step,” you say, trying to keep the annoyance out of your tone. He’s been hovering as much as possible for the past two days you’ve been under observation at the hospital, only leaving when absolutely necessary to do his two shows a night. He sent the hospital staff into a tizzy with demands for your care while still managing to be charming and effusive to all the employees in a way that only he could get away with.

You’re not sure that he’s slept in the past few days, as he seems obsessed with making sure you are alright. Your pleas for him to go back to the hotel and get some rest fell on deaf ears. Hopefully, now that you’ll be in the hotel, he will relax a little.

While your face is healing, it is still covered in a nasty bruise, which you are reminded of every time Elvis looks at you because the wince that passes over his features, while nearly imperceptible to others, is quite evident to you. It serves to remind you how you got here and how he seemingly thinks him controlling everything about your recovery is going to somehow put you back together and make everything how it was before.

But it’s not like it was before.

Not with the looks that the Mafia are giving you. You can sense their pity, their judgement, their fear. Because Elvis having a known affair with you threatens them all. What if it was their wife or girlfriend? What if Elvis turns on them the way he turned on Jack? Jack was their friend, too. It’s written all over their faces. And you can tell they’ve been put on best behavior because more than usual they defer to Elvis, and they are suddenly wildly uncomfortable around you, even though you’ve been part of the group for years.

You can’t help but feel like the king’s consort. The mistress. The usurper.

The only exceptions are Jerry and Sandy, of course. And Charlie, in his usual Charlie way, has been kind and endearing. But the rest are quiet. Too quiet.

You don’t know what’s happened to Jack. You also haven’t seen Red, though you can’t say you’re upset about it. The few times you tried to ask Elvis, he brushed you off, saying you didn’t need to worry about such things while you’re trying to recover.

All of it has you unsettled. You knew there would be consequences, of course you did, but you didn’t expect it to be this strange.

Thankfully, your headaches are becoming less frequent, but when they do come, they are intense and debilitating, and weirdly, each one brings a host of images and fractured memories that you must try to make sense of. The doctor said this should hopefully get better as your brain heals from the concussion. A full recovery, he said, but it might take some time. Elvis takes this to mean you need constant care, and honestly you don’t have the energy to argue with the man about it right now, so you let him escort you into his bedroom suite as though you are frail and fragile.

“There you go, Satnin, all set,” he says, fluffing the mountain of pillows behind you, and then he gently takes off each of your shoes. You lean back with a sigh, suddenly grateful for the comfort of his huge bed in his penthouse suite because that hospital bed was truly terrible.

“Maybe you wanna to get into your pajamas?” he suggests. “I had all your things brought up, but I also went ahead and bought you some things, since I know you hadn’t planned on being here this long, and—” he rambles. The look on his face is almost childlike in his need to please you, to take care of you. It is quite the adjustment after spending a week basking in his masculine sexual dominance.  You aren’t complaining at this change in him; in fact, it reminds you of when you first met, of those early years. It’s just giving you a bit of whiplash.

“It’s okay, honey, I’m fine for now,” you interrupt, trying to keep your tone light. Bringing your hand up, you pinch the bridge of your nose as another headache threatens. Overly attuned to you, Elvis grabs one of your feet and starts rubbing, using his strong hands to knead deep into the sole of your foot.

The hurts-so-good feeling has you groaning and your head falling back onto the pillows.

“That feel good, mama?” he drawls quietly.

All you can do is nod and hum in response. You’re certain if this had happened a few days ago, that statement, this action, would be laced with a fierce sexual energy. You imagine that it would last only a minute before he pounced and worked you into a state of pleasurable bliss. That latent desire is still there—you can sense it—but with everything that has happened, it takes a backseat to your pain.

This both saddens you and makes you feel grateful. You covet your sexual relationship with him, as it is the definitive thing you know he wants and needs from you. You know this for sure, and with your ever-present uncertainty about the rest of your relationship, it makes you feel off-kilter to not be able to share that with him. However, his commitment to being by your side despite the lack of sex, has been somewhat reassuring. You desperately hope it’s not just a sense of guilt that keeps him here with you.

You sigh, your eyes falling shut, and relish in the feel of his hands on you in such a comforting way as he treats one foot, then the other, to this intimate treatment. But he is uncharacteristically quiet.

He practically has you in a stupor by the time he finishes with the second foot, managing to stave off your impending headache. Opening your eyes, you catch him looking at you, those deep blues of his taking on a darker hue in the dim lighting. You can see the wheels turning, the way his hand flexes and releases over his tailored pants, how he worries his bottom lip with his teeth.

“What is it, E?” you ask gently, almost afraid it might spook him.

“I-I-I…can I hold you?” he stutters, changing tactics midway to get the sentence out, betraying his nerves.

“Of course, baby,” you respond quietly.

“I-I just don’t want to hurt you,” he says, crawling up the comforter to lie next to you. “Are ya sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” you say, as he curls into you, his arm coming over you.

All at once, you are flooded with memory. Your teenage bedroom. Your single bed. Elvis nestling close into your side, his cheeks still salty with tears. The way your heart races at his proximity and the way his touch, though innocent, burns through you like wildfire. His breath warm on your neck, tickling your bare skin.

He shows up on your doorstep such a mess, coming to you, of all people. You don’t quite understand it. (You’re still not sure you understand it—why it’s you, of all people, at that point in his life, that he’d chosen to come to.)

You fall into caring for him so easily, like it is second nature to run your fingers through his hair and massage his back as he cries in your lap, even though you’ve never touched him like this, so intimately, before. When he asks to stay, those bedroom eyes of his begging, your heart leaps in a way you are ashamed of. Your entire body feels on fire, flustering you as you consider the implications, consider just how badly you do want him to stay, and if it’s worth it to see where this might go.

It only gets worse when you find him stripped down to his underwear, waiting for you innocently in your bedroom, a place no man has stayed before. Your heart stops in your chest at the sight of him sitting there, exhausted and emotionally spent. Before you take him into your bed, he’s so good in reassuring you he would never hurt you, that he won’t touch you like that. Of course, he wouldn’t; you know this. But your trepidation isn’t because you are afraid he’ll take advantage of you—it is because part of you wants him to.

The memory makes you blush furiously. Yet another important moment you had buried so deep that remembering it now makes it feel like it just happened.

After the initial tension of him being curled so close into you wanes, you relax and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t go. Oh, how you relish in the softness of his skin against yours, the musky scent and heat of him surrounding you as he holds on to you through the night. You wake up multiple times, thinking you must be dreaming that Elvis is in your bed, but are pleasantly surprised to really find him there, his warm, lean, young body pressing into yours in various ways. The moonlight through the window lets you see just how innocently beautiful and vulnerable he is like this, like some kind of angel not of this world, his long lashes falling over his cheeks. You feel grateful to see him this way, tucking the moment away in your mind. Despite the rollercoaster of hormones coursing through you, you’ve never felt so safe before, not with Ted, not with any man.

Or felt so aroused. That terrified you, you think, as the wave of feeling crashes over you in the present. You want him with an intensity that shocks you to your core. But he is your friend, for god’s sake, and he’d come to you upset and trusted you to help him, and here you are, suddenly lusting after him like every other girl on the planet. Oh, yes, you are so very ashamed of yourself, for the dirty thoughts you’re thinking.

But, oh, how you imagine him waking to kiss you passionately, willing him to touch you everywhere, wanting him to run his long, calloused fingers up under your nightgown and into your panties. Thinking that, in an instant, he could easily slide between your legs, and you would let him. You’ll gladly give yourself to him right this minute if he wants you. You screw your eyes shut, trying unsuccessfully to block out the image of him slowly entering you, joining with you, rocking you into submission, into ecstasy.

Back then, those thoughts were more dangerous than anything, especially when the man in question was in your bed already, holding you close. It was a different time, and at nineteen, you were young and bound by propriety, and yet, in that moment, you hadn’t cared about that part.

But it is Elvis. Your dear friend. He doesn’t think of you that way. He’s on the brink of stardom and already has half the country fawning over him, with girlfriends in every town. You know this, logically. You know this, but for the first time, you allow yourself to think that maybe there is more to the two of you than just friendship. That maybe there is a reason he’d come to you in his hour of need.

A wave of heartache rolls through you as you recall that next morning. You blearily wake up from your fitfully aroused but somehow comforting slumber to him pulling you close, pressing the front of his body into the back of yours. The heat of him permeates through the thin cotton of your nightgown, which is quite a pleasing sensation in the cold of this late-winter morning. You sigh and wiggle back into him instinctually, before you can think too much on it, just needing to be closer to him. But then he jumps out of the bed in a flash, as if you were on fire, scurrying to clothe himself, and then he practically leaps out the window to get away from you.

He didn’t want you. Of course, he didn’t want you. He probably regrets the whole thing, with the way he leaves you lying there. He is Elvis Presley, after all. Your friend, but nothing more. You’d been foolish to think it anything more.

His abrupt absence leaves you cold, tears welling in your eyes, yearning for something you know you could never have from him (or so you’d thought, at the time). You pull the covers over your head, the scent of him on your sheets enveloping you. The grease he used in his hair left a stain on your pillow, but you don’t care in the slightest because it is something tangible, something that lets you know him holding you through the night had been real and not a dream.

Now it hits you suddenly that—oh, god—that was the day Jack had asked you out for the first time. You’d been sad all day, trying to push Elvis out of your mind and Jack had shown up at the diner, suddenly quite brazen in his attraction to you. While you weren’t entirely surprised, as the two of you had been dancing around each other for some time, the timing of it helped bring you out of your funk, reminding you that in the real world, a good man like Jack wanted you.

You’d quickly accepted because you liked Jack and there was no reason not to.

Elvis Presley was just your friend, after all.

Now you realize that in that short 24-hour period, the trajectory of your entire life changed. Maybe you’d fallen into Jack’s arms so quickly because Elvis’ rejection had upset you more than you wanted to admit. It had been easier and more realistic to date Jack, and it had taken your mind off the unwanted thoughts you had for Elvis.

Oh, no.

The intense discovery of this long-hidden memory and the emotions to go with it rocket through your skull with a shooting pain, causing you to hiss. Tears flood your eyes, from both the ache in your heart and the pain in your head.

“Baby, you okay? What can I do?” Elvis shoots his head up, noticing your distress, looking you over carefully.

You can’t explain, not now. “Bad headache,” you breathe out instead. “Can you get my medicine?” You didn’t want to take pain meds if you could help it, but in this moment, everything, pain and otherwise, is too overwhelming and you think maybe you just need some sleep.

So, you take the pill he gives you gratefully. You try not to think about how the way he looks at you now has that same boyish quality it had all those years ago when you’d taken him into your bed and into your arms, and he’d left you cold.

It’s okay, you think. He’s here now, taking care of me. He wants me now, even if he didn’t then.

And with that, you drift aimlessly away into welcome darkness.

*

Everything is fuzzy, the dull ache in your head muddling the flashes that are floating to the surface in your dreams.

You kiss Elvis’ forehead, the tears on his baby-faced cheeks, his pouting, full lips. You can taste the salt of his tears on your tongue.

Not Elvis now, you think, Elvis a long, long time ago.

But that doesn’t make sense. You didn’t kiss Elvis until two weeks ago.

He’s so sad, though, so alone. He needs you, he needs you, he needs you…

And you need him.

But it’s wrong, all wrong. And so right, all at once. Your body tingles through the ache in your head as you ever-so-gently press your lips to his. You’ve wondered for so long what he tastes like.

Soft and sweet, like marshmallows.

His bright blue eyes widen with shock.

“Y/n, baby, you don’t want this…” he whispers. The words echo and swirl around you.

He’s right, isn’t he? You can’t want this. You shouldn’t. Of course not…

You’re so angry, so sad, and he’s so beautiful.

Elvis. Your Elvis.

No, he’s not, he’s not, he’s not.

He belongs to no one. He belongs to the world.

Need pulses through you, a need so deep it brings you to your knees. It cuts through the pain in your head. It singes through your heart.

It’s unbearable.

It burns through you, from the inside out.

Those eyes, deep as the ocean, rimmed in black, plunder your soul. You ride the swell of the waves in them as they rise higher and higher and higher until they shatter underneath you.

The fall is blissful and terrifying, all at once, but Elvis is with you the whole way.

Free falling through the abyss, you are scared. It’s never-ending. You don’t know when you’ll hit bottom, and the anticipation of it runs like ice through your veins.

Guilt. Shame. That ache in your chest.

And then you hit bottom.

*

Your eyes pop open with a shuddering gasp. Gripping the sheets for dear life, you frantically try to piece out where you are, that you are not falling anymore.

Just a dream. Just a crazy, medication induced dream, you pray, seeing that you are in the darkened suite in Elvis’ penthouse.

But the unease remains, lurking more visibly now in the corners of your mind, trying to tell you something you don’t want to hear. Something you don’t want to see.

The door to the bedroom slowly opens and you jump, a hand flying over your chest in surprise. Elvis strides in quietly, clad in his white gi jumpsuit, sweat pouring over him. He must have just finished a show.

You had been asleep a while.

You are still amazed at how his presence fills a room, even when it’s just you here, even when there is no one to impress. He looks gorgeous and you know he’s riding the post-show high by the way his eyes sparkle and by the flush of his cheeks.

“You’re awake, baby. How’re ya feeling?” he asks, gliding over to you on those long legs of his.

You are still reeling from the dream. You shake your head, trying to clear that feeling of dread, of falling, and as he sits on the bed next to you, you are sucked into those oceanic eyes once again.

Your heart races.

“Are you okay?” He looks concerned, brushing your sweaty locks off your forehead, thumb grazing your cheek.

“Are you okay? he whispers, his thumb grazing your cheek. You sit still in his lap, saying nothing and can feel him begin to soften inside of you, the wetness of spent arousal leaking down your thighs under your dress…

The flash of memory hits you hard, because it was then, not now. Triggered by the same gesture, the same man, but it was a different time. He looked so young…

But that’s impossible. Impossible. The first time you had sex with Elvis was less than two weeks ago.

Your heart thunders in your chest because suddenly you don’t think that’s true.

You kiss Elvis’ forehead, kiss the tears on his baby-faced cheeks, and then, with a strange boldness, you kiss his pouting, full lips. You can taste the salt of his tears on your tongue.

His pants scratch at your bare thighs as you straddle his narrow hips. His tongue explores your mouth, sending searing heat through you. Boldly, you rock in his lap, feeling him grow underneath you.

You need him, oh, god, how you need him.

The flashes aren’t complete, but they are real. You are suddenly so sure that they are, and you don’t understand, not at all. You look at Elvis now, wild-eyed, silently seeking answers. How? How?

His long fingers are cold as they part your wet folds, and he pushes one, then another deep into your heat while his thumb massages that ever-sensitive bundle of nerves at the front. It stings at first, this surprising intrusion, but he’s gentle, letting you adjust around him, letting you decide when to move.

Your breath is coming fast now, and Elvis looks more than concerned.

“Satnin, what’s happenin’? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says, eyes searching you.

You screw your eyes shut. This can’t be real. It can’t be.

You sink down on him slowly, the tightness of your canal stretching around his considerable size as you try to take him all in. It’s easier now, after he prepped you with his fingers, and the discomfort wanes quickly as you bottom out. He’s hitting places inside you that you didn’t know existed until this very moment.

Elvis looks utterly ethereal as you begin to ride him, his mouth open and pink, his freshly dyed raven hair falling in his eyes. Everything about him looks carved out by the gods, and his eyes drink you in in a way that strips you bare, right to the heart of you. He looks at you as though you hung the moon and the stars.

Those eyes are now looking at you in a panic.

He brings you to the brink easily and you crest the wave hard, your orgasm fracturing you into a thousand pieces as you fall. You’d never felt this way before, not with Ted, not with Jack, not even with yourself. The pleasure of it rips through you and he follows quickly, a warm, sticky heat pulsing deep as you cling to each other for dear life.

Oh. Oh god…

It was real. You know it now. You are more sure of it now than you’ve ever been.

Graceland, you realize suddenly, when he took you to see Graceland for the first time. That’s where it happened. Nineteen-fucking-fifty-seven.

Elvis and you had sex, a long, long time ago. And he kept it from you. Pretended it never even happened.

You push away from him and stagger off the bed in daze, flooded with so many emotions and sensations at once that you don’t know how to react. Dizzy, you sway a bit on your feet.

Flashes keep hitting you as you move. Waking in the hospital, not knowing how you’d gotten there. Elvis, worried at your bedside. The pills. The accidental overdose.

You think you might be sick.

“What the hell is happenin’? You’re scarin’ me. Talk to me, baby,” Elvis says from behind you. He feels so far away, but that deep seeded need to flee him is rolling through you and you walk unsteadily forward, though you aren’t sure exactly where you are trying to go.

Oh, he must have been so relieved when you didn’t remember anything about that night. That he didn’t have to take back what he’d—you’d—done. That it didn’t completely derail his friendship with you or Jack. That he got to keep being Elvis without any repercussions.

Twelve years. Over a decade built on lies and half-truths and pretending.

Tears are streaming down your burning cheeks now. You feel humiliated. Shocked at both yourself and at him. You’d cheated on Jack, with Elvis. It didn’t matter that Jack had cheated first. You’d had feelings for Elvis all the way back then, feelings you acted on in a moment of vulnerability for both of you. He’d been devastated about June, scared about his fame. You’d wanted to comfort him, but you had also wanted to prove to yourself that if a man like Elvis Presley could want you, then of course Jack should.

You’d thrown yourself at him. He didn’t stop you. And then he lied to you about it all.

If you’d have remembered…Christ, the repercussions would’ve been life altering.

Elvis grabs you then, in the present, his hot, long, ring-clad fingers circling your arm, pulling you back towards him.

And it is then that your anguish fully turns to anger. After everything that has happened these past two weeks, these past fourteen years…Suddenly, that sense of betrayal, your seeming lack of control of anything in your life, all the fear of the past, present, and future, pushes you to the brink. You feel done being at the mercy of the universe, done at being at the mercy of the lies and whims of men.

“Take your fucking hand off me, Elvis,” you hiss, venom in your glare.

You watch as his brilliant blue eyes widen in surprise, and with that, he releases you.

“Is this all a game to you?” you ask pointedly, voice shaking under the weight of your simmering fury.

“W-what?” he says, shaking his head. “Baby, I can’t emphasize enough that I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me for years,” you throw at him. A fueled rage clouds your judgement. You are quickly becoming unhinged and near irrational, but you are unable to stop it, almost like you are possessed, out of your mind, and watching your unusual behavior from afar. It’s as though a part of you wants to blow all of this up and you are powerless to stop this destructive side of yourself.

Elvis throws his hands up in surrender and begins to turn away. “That concussion has you bein’ all crazy, honey. I don’t even know—”

“That day at Graceland, right before you bought it. When I accidentally took too many pills for my headache. You know the one, don’t you?” you interrupt scathingly.

He stops and looks back at you, that pretty brow furrowing, and you think you can sense his panic truly brewing now. “I-I-I thought ya didn’t remember nothin’ about that afternoon.”

“Oh, I didn’t.” You think now you do, but you have to be sure. “You were awfully upset that day because of June, weren’t you? Going on and on about how you’d never know if a women would truly love you. And, come to think of it, you never did tell me how it was that I fell asleep,” you add, turning the knife with both curiosity and fervor, glaring at him.

His eyes truly widen now, his pouty mouth popping open and then shuttering closed again, his pallor turning pale.

And there you have your answer. You are not supposed to know this. He’d told you about June all over again after you’d left the hospital because you hadn’t remembered him telling you at Graceland. But he definitely hadn’t told you again about his insecurity of not knowing if a woman would love him for who he really is.

It’s all true.

That realization is horrible and vindicating and almost relieving all at once. You weren’t wrong when that voice in your head was telling you he was keeping something important from you. You weren’t crazy. And you even think this isn’t all he’s been hiding, but you can’t go there now. It’s too heavy a punch to the gut, and all you see is red.

A frantic, small voice in your head tries to remind you that you should consider Elvis’ feelings about that day, how he was vulnerable and frightened when he couldn’t wake you, and that your concussion has you not in your right mind and missing pieces of all this, but your rage kicks those thoughts aside and you plow forward anyway. You have too many unanswered questions.

“We had sex, Elvis. In 1957! How could you…how dare you then pretend it never happened! How could you not tell me?!” you scream at him, in a way that is utterly unlike the passive and quiet woman you’d become over the years. The woman who had learned to cower instead of speaking up for herself. The stubbornness and fire from your youth flares, driving you forward recklessly. It hurts your head to do it, but you can’t help it.

Elvis just stands there, staring, silent, using that well-honed talent of his to make his beautiful, godlike face an unreadable mask. It kills you inside, but you wait, unwilling to let him off the hook. But he still does not speak.

“Did it even mean anything to you?” you then ask quietly, tears prickling your eyes again, “Or was I just another notch on your bedpost?”

He blinks slowly and presses his lips together, and your heart sinks because you can’t tell if being with him so intimately meant anything to him at all. You should be able to tell, but you can’t, not when he’s shutting you out like this. And that deepest fear being realized both destroys you and pisses you off even more.

Finally, Elvis breaks his silence, voice low and measured and too careful for him, like he’s reciting lines in a movie, “It wasn’t…You were high. Your judgement was impaired. I was mortified...” He trails off, looking away. Then he pauses, taking a deep breath before challenging you with his intense eyes, “And would tellin’ you have changed anythin’?”

You choke at that and shake your head as you turn away from him. The words linger in the air, and you are irate at them, at him. They whirl within you, stabbing you in their coldness. He was mortified by being with you. Good god. The wound of that cracks through you like ice shattering.

You know deep down you didn’t sleep with him because you were accidentally high. You are certain of it. It wasn’t just about getting back at Jack, or just about feeling attractive and desired. No, it was so much more than that. After remembering what you have, you know you’d given yourself to Elvis willingly, medication or no, doing something you’d sworn after Ted that you wouldn’t do again until marriage.

He presses you on this, this thing you can’t believe he’s asking. “Would it’ve? You were with Jack, you loved Jack. And I’d just gotten home and was leavin’ again just as fast. What would’ve it changed, y/n, other than to make things awkward between us and ruin our friendship? Other than to ruin what you had with Jack?” Elvis asks from behind you, his gravelly voice strained.

You’re shaking now, your whole being quaking with physical and emotional toil, another headache slamming down upon you. Yes, you’d loved Jack, you truly had. And you know you’ve fallen in love with Elvis these past few weeks. But all of this craziness—these revelations, these secrets, these memories—are finally confirming something your mind has been trying to tell you lately about all those years ago, something you suspected and feared, but didn’t want to admit:

You have been in love with Elvis since the beginning. You had loved him then just as you love him now. And if you had remembered that, if he’d wanted it, if he had asked you, at any point, you think would’ve dropped everything for him.

Even if it would’ve ruined you both.

A bile of panic rises in your throat because, besides the times you truly can’t remember because you’d literally been dying, there had been all those other moments throughout the years where you’d pushed down your love for him. Important pieces of your life that you’d just forgotten, sometimes right away, in order to spare yourself the pain of this realization, the pain of Elvis’ rejection.

Maybe it started in the diner when he comforted you after Ted broke your heart, or maybe it began even earlier because god knows you can’t trust yourself or your memory. In fact, you are quite sure that there are still things he’s keeping from you, pivotal things you still don’t remember and it’s maddening. But after the diner, it feels like every moment you repressed is a missing piece to the puzzle of your life and reminder of how everything has gone so completely wrong.

Oh, and isn’t it rich that you are laying into him about keeping this naughty little tryst from you when you’ve been conveniently forgetting all these crucial moments of your relationship over your lifetime, a logical voice in the back of your head hurls at you.

Fuck you, you throw back, dread seeping through you.

And now your deepest fears are confirmed—Elvis hadn’t wanted you, not like that. He was mortified by it, in fact. He had a taste of you in a moment of weakness, because he’s just a man after all, and got lucky when you didn’t remember. Thinking better of it, he kept it all to himself. All these years, he’d lied by omission. And for some goddamned reason, he’d swung back around to you after all this time, destroying your life as you knew it in the process.

You spin back around to face him. Nausea rolls in your stomach because, suddenly, you’re not sure you know the man in front of you at all.

“Fuck you, Elvis Presley. It would’ve changed everything,” you say vehemently, honestly, leveling him with your stare.

And it looks like you just slapped him by the way he recoils.

You can’t stop yourself from digging deeper, too angry to care, “But I’m sure that’s not what you wanted, since you were so quick to decide that I didn’t need to know, so fucking cocksure that you didn’t even deem to ask what I wanted. No, you just got laid and got lucky and moved right on to the next girl.”

“Th-that’s not—“ he sputters, those azure eyes a little frantic.

“Isn’t it, though, Elvis? Isn’t that exactly what happened? We fucked and you decided it was a bad idea, so you didn’t bother to tell me when I couldn’t remember myself. Who cares what I thought, right?! Then you went on with your life as though nothing happened.”

As if it hadn’t mattered at all, as though you hadn’t mattered enough to bother. You can’t bring yourself to say that part, though, as the icy pain of saying the rest out loud like this sends more tears pouring down your cheeks, despite your anger wanting to keep them at bay.

As if the rest isn’t bad enough, another thought hits you sideways, “My god, you even pushed Jack to marry me, didn’t you?” You look at him incredulously, remembering how Jack had joked about it after he’d proposed. The words ache through you as you say them, as you realize the implications of that. Yet another one of your deepest fears confirmed.

Elvis looks stricken as he backs up to the bed and sinks down on the edge, putting his head in his hands.

“I-I-I w-was no good for you,” he mumbles.

“You don’t get to decide that, Elvis! You took those choices away from me!” you cry at him.

You watch as he holds his tongue, as his body stiffens at your words. His jaw clenches and his breathing changes. You know the signs by now, but you don’t care. You don’t care that he’s getting ready to explode and that it’s you pushing him over the edge. You want him over the edge. You want him to care enough to be mad about it.

“And what? Did you finally decide after twelve years that maybe you did like my pussy after all, so you decided to come back for more?” you spit at him nastily, driving him right over the threshold.

“I was protecting you!” Elvis bellows, leaping to his feet, face red with anger. His eyes darken and flash in a way that might have caused you to pause before, but not today, not after this.

You don’t let up. “Protecting me from what exactly? A bad marriage? A man that doesn’t love me?” you laugh haughtily at the irony.

He doesn’t elaborate, just bites his tongue in frustration and glowers at you, pulling himself back.

Then, another sinking realization drags you under. “Good lord—you had your hands in my relationship with Jack every step of the way. From day fucking one. You pushed us onto each other, a-a-and then you took him away from me, over and over again. The women Jack ‘dated’…Jesus, that was when he went to Vegas to see you that first time, wasn’t it? Of course. I should’ve known that’s when he started fucking other women. Because of you,” you point at him, more fury boiling in your stomach as you ramble.

God, was it all lies and subterfuge? Every fucking thing in your life related to these men?

Elvis stands there, jaw gritted so hard he might crack his veneers, his hands fisted at his sides, his leg going a million miles an hour. But you don’t stop.

“And then you came back home to find me upset, pretended like you didn’t know why, and then you fucked me?” The memories come to you too quickly, too painfully, fractured moments flashing in your aching head, weaving back together what you’d lost for so long, fueling your pain, fueling you forward. “And that was just the beginning. You sucked Jack and me both into your world, then played with our lives because…why? Why, E?” you demand.

Still, he says nothing, eyes fierce and his body vibrating with energy, letting you continue your verbal assault.

Your heart is going so fast you fear it’s going to explode, but you continue anyway, knowing that this isn’t like you, that perhaps this isn’t truly what you want. I love him, don’t I? But you are so mad, so exhausted from feeling like a plaything in the lives of the men around you, that you can’t stop. They’ve treated you as if you have no agency of your own. As if you were nothing without them. And you are done.

You shake your head. “You screwed with our lives because you could. You and your fucking egomaniacal, insane, manipulative bullshit. Nobody can be happy unless the King is happy, right? What the fuck is wrong with you?” you hiss, beside yourself with anger at him, on what he’d done to your life. In this moment, your love for him is entirely consumed by your rage, as your addled and bruised brain tries to piece together just how screwed up this entire situation is.

Elvis roars then and sweeps everything off the nightstand, sending things shattering and flying to the floor. You do your best not to wince at the outburst, unwilling to let him shake you. Then, he looks at you, like a caught, caged beast, his chest heaving and eyes dangerous. But he isn’t blacked out, and you know it because you can see the gears working in his head. You can see that the emotion in his face is not anger alone. There is a deep pain there and it confuses you.

Dread settles into a knot in your stomach because suddenly you can’t shake that terrible feeling that you are still missing something vital here, something both Elvis and your traitorous brain are keeping from you, but your head is pounding and your blood is up and you can’t think straight.

You stand toe-to-toe, staring at each other, chests heaving in the heavy silence.

He breaks first, but with an almost frightening level of clarity that you don’t expect after his outburst. “Fine. Y-you w-w-wanna make me th-the-the villain in this story, then fine, I-I’m th-the fucking villain, honey. I-I-I always w-was,” he stutters wildly, cutting, his stormy eyes narrowing like a crocodile as he levels you with them.

He doesn’t deny any of it. He doesn’t even defend himself anymore.

You don’t know what to do with that.

All you know is you hurt. Everything aches, inside and out. You feel like an absolute fool. You are infuriated with him and maybe even more furious at yourself. Then, your heart breaks, sending a wave of sorrow flooding through your chest and down your limbs.

Everything with Jack was bad.

Somehow, this is worse.

It feels like your entire world has been pulled from underneath your feet. The devastation you felt about Jack feels like nothing now compared to Elvis’ betrayal, and the weight of both together is crushing you from all angles.

There is no escape. You can’t breathe.

Somehow, you’ve lost them both. Or maybe you never really had either of them to begin with.

You silly, stupid girl. I tried to warn you.

You manage to hold back the sob that threatens to break you.

Wordlessly, you nod, clench your fists, then turn and walk out.

Elvis doesn’t stop you.

*

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211  @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy  @amiets2  @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals  

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch  @tattywood 

@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23 @ab4eva 

@fic-over-cannon @lacyluver @littlebitofgreen @paigevis @godlypresley @bugg06 

Reblogs, likes, tips, comments + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

[softguarnere]

Miscellaneous Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @ronald-speirs 💕 Came at the perfect time, because I also needed a distraction

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

Absolutely loved going to Virginia as a kid, and I think all my best memories were made there

Something you’re proud of yourself for?

Finally taking the leap and submitting poetry to journals recently 😬 No matter the outcome, I'm proud of myself for trying

Favorite books?

PJO, TCON, THG. Also the book "The Kingdom of Matthias" is so freakin' wild, everyone should definitely read that at some point, because it totally proves the whole "people have always been people" thing.

Something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

My dogs!

Favorite thing about your culture?

That we're still here 💪Also I love the way the language works

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?

I watched BOB in high school, but I didn't join the fandom until about a year and a half ago

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?

Heck yeah I have! Fierce Valor is definitely one of my favorites - so well written and really does a fantastic job of inspecting Speirs from all sides and giving him a fair depiction (which, as a historian, I love)

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?

Guarnere (everybody act surprised). Idk, I think the moment in the back of the truck when Dick tells him that he's not actually a Quaker, lol, his laugh always cracks me up

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

I write fics! Mainly for BOB, but I've written for a few others recently

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

Probably Ralph Macchio, just because I feel like my mom and I are always watching something that has him in it. My Cousin Vinny is definitely my favorite, and not a day goes by that I don't quote it as a form of communication

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

Laugh at me if you want, but the "You're going to have to be the bravest you've ever been!" line from Bluey has been getting me through it lately ("it" being scary senior year stuff and also an upcoming doctor appointment).

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

According to a color analysis thingy, I am a true/cool summer ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Do with that information what you will

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

I've never had a beta reader before, but if anyone ever wants to be, then hell yeah, come be my beta reader! (And I am also willing to read for anyone else!)

Three things that make you smile?

When the weather is good, when someone tells me that something made them think of me, and when I find little notes hidden in books that my late grandmother left me

Any nicknames you like?

Dove actually is my nickname hehe

List some people you love to see around on tumblr!

How do I tag the entire HBOWar fandom? Everyone plz consider yourselves tagged, because I genuinely love seeing all of y'all on my dash

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

Probably just stay in my house lol. Ummm, idk, if it came down to it, I would use my bow and arrows against the zombies and hope that it would work

Favorite movie?

The Outsiders will forever be so special to me🥺🫶🏽

Do you like horror movies?

No, because I love being able to sleep at night

Tagging: (but no pressure!) @mads-nixon @almost-a-class-act @dcyllom

[drarrygirl27]

Hello!

I haven't been on here in so long, it's insane! I am still a school custodian, but I now work at an early college for the same school district and Doug is now a plumber. Things have gotten better and easier for the both of us. We're both in good places when it comes to co-workers and bosses now.

We also have a new furrier addition to our family now. I'm so in love with her, my Goddess! So... Doug and I rescued a domestic black short-hair kitten a little more than 2 weeks ago now from a storm drain. It's quite a story. LOL! 😆 She's 7 weeks old and according to the vet and the other vet peeps, she's pretty healthy overall which Doug and I are really happy to know. She might have hookworms because she has vomited about 3-4 times out of a total of 2 weeks since we've had her, but she hasn't since the last time which was I believe the earlier part of last week so maybe she just ate too fast or too much at once and played too hard which caused her to get sick. We gave her a bath the day after we went to her first check-up and we used some medicine that was prescribed to her to help with fleas. Her next appointment is on July 10th at 7 pm to have a feline distemper done. It is so freakin' awesome that this vet is so close to us for one and for two, they're open late on two days out of a week which works really well for us right now because right now my work shifts are Mon-Thurs: 6:00 am-4:30 pm meanwhile Doug's work shifts are Mon-Fri: 7:00 am-3:30 pm because of it being the summer.

Unfortunately, I couldn't get her to give us a stool sample to check for those kinds of things before we went to the appointment that evening after Doug and I got off of work at 3:30 pm for him and 4:30 pm for me so they gave us a stool sample container so we can get it whenever we can so they can test for hookworms and the like.

Y'all, she is a beautiful, little kitty girl and I don't think I could have picked out a better name for her.

Without further ado, here is Nezuko!

I named her after one of the main characters in "Demon Slayer" which is one of my favorite Japanese animes right now.