#it started out bad and just kept getting worse

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 9 - Made a promise to be kept

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 3.2K

TWs: Illness, self-esteem issues, discussion of spanking, handjob/masturbation, voyeurism, suggestion of ass play, possessive kink.

Tegan spends the day at work feeling gradually more and more ill, so she decides to pick up a few things on her way home in case she can’t get out to get them the next day. It’s probably just a cold she picked up from the kids at the weekend, but she doesn’t want to have to drag herself out of bed and look for cough medicine if it’s worse than that. As she gets out of the car she suddenly remembers that Elvis basically lives in her apartment right now, and she could send him out to get things. Part of her wonders what on earth he’d come back with, but she also realises she’s been on her own for so long she’s forgotten what it’s like to rely on someone else.

Elvis fusses her and tries to insist on her resting, but she’s too worried about what kind of dinner he’ll cook without her help, so she tells him she doesn’t feel that bad. And she doesn’t, not really. Not until she tries to sleep. They lie down together as usual and she lets her mind drift off, but her thoughts stop making sense. It’s as if she’s put the words in a blender and then poured them out, and all the while she’s sweating and starting to wonder if her legs belong to her or have been swapped out for someone else’s. Eventually she tosses and turns herself fully awake, body hot and arms outside of the duvet freezing cold, sweat dampening the hair at the back of her head. 

“Queenie?” Elvis whispers. He looks at the digital clock by the bed. 2.30am. He’s been awake this whole time, watching her thrash about in her sleep and listening to the odd random word she’d mumbled. 

She rolls over and looks up into his concerned face. “Elvis, I’m sick.”

He strokes her forehead gently. “I can see that, baby.”

She closes her eyes again and groans. He presses a little kiss to her forehead now, carefully moving her sweaty hair out of her face. 

“Try ‘an go back ta sleep, honey.”

She groans again. “I’ll try.”

She closes her eyes but Elvis feels like a furnace next to her, he’s making it even hotter in the bed that already seems like it might be on fire. Then she hears him start to sing. 

Forever, my darling / Our love will be true / Always and forever / I'll love only you / Just promise me, darling / Your love in return / May this fire in my soul, dear / Forever burn

Her mouth curls into a smile and she opens her eyes again. 

“That’s cute.”

“Mmmm. I’m trying ta sing ya ta sleep.”

She giggles, putting her hand on his cheek. “Oh ‘raur. Don’t take this the wrong way but… you’re going to keep me awake if you keep doing that.”

Elvis immediately looks hurt and she wishes she could take it back. “Hm. Forget it then.” He flops onto his back, sighing loudly. He doesn’t mind staying up late, in fact he kind of enjoys it, but he wants to be asleep right now. When you’re asleep you can’t feel rejected.

“‘Raur.” Tegan rolls onto her side, leaning over him to look into his face and seeing his eyes firmly shut. “I’m sorry. I love your singing.” She nuzzles his cheek. “I just don’t find it very sleep-inducing.”

He grumbles again. 

“You could sing to me when I feel better. I’d like that.” She’s still feeling a bit delirious from the fever and so she puts her head on his chest and says, “I’d really like that, Elvis.”

“Why’s ‘at then?” He huffs. 

She giggles into his pyjama top. “‘Cause I’d find it a turn on.”

His lips curl into a smile at the revelation and he starts singing again, right in her ear.

My heart's at your command, dear / To keep, love, and to hold / Making you happy's my desire / Keeping you is my goal

She giggles even more. “Stop it! I’m sick!”

“Alright then. Try ‘an sleep. I won’t sing this time.”

She props herself back up on her elbow again. “You’re making the bed kind of hot…” She pulls an awkward face, knowing he won’t like this either. 

He sighs deeply. “First ya won’t let me sing ya ta sleep, now ya want me on the couch.”

“I’m sorry. But you won’t sleep well with me here either.”

He curls a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. “This’d be a damned sight easier if we were at Graceland.”

“But I like my apartment. And you like my apartment. Don’t you?”

“Hmmm. Yeah. But not when I have ta sleep on the couch. I’m an old man, my back can’t take it.”

Tegan doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable, but she can’t see how she’s going to sleep at all with him in the bed. 

He shakes his head and sits up. “But I’ll go. I’ll see ya in the mornin’ baby.”

***

When Tegan doesn’t appear at the usual time, Elvis picks up the phone and calls her work. He causes quite a kerfuffle, being Elvis Presley and everything, but it does mean that they believe him when he says he’s not sure if she’ll be in for the rest of the week. He pads around the kitchen making coffee and rummaging around in the cupboards for anything else she might want. When he’s finished he puts it all on a tray and then sets it down on the side, slowly pushing her bedroom door open and peering inside. 

“Honey?” He says softly, into the semi-darkness. 

Tegan grumbles. She’d woken up a while ago, but she didn’t really want to move. She still doesn’t want to move now, so she burrows further into the bedding. Elvis walks around the bed and gets in next to her, gently putting an arm over her. She grumbles again. 

“I made ya coffee,” he murmurs into her hair. 

“Thanks. I feel like my throat’s full of broken glass.”

Elvis pulls her against him, kissing the top of her head. “Ya want it now?”

“Please.”

He gives her another kiss and then gets up again, fetching the tray and bringing it in. She sits up slowly, pulling pillows behind her to prop her up and looking with some interest at the contents of the tray. 

“I thought you were just bringing coffee?”

Elvis puts it down on her lap. “Well I thought these might help.”

Tegan looks at the rest of the contents of the tray in bewilderment. There’s painkillers, which make sense, next to two cups of steaming coffee. So far, so good. But then there’s a box of crackers, a bottle of gatorade (which she’s quite sure she didn’t buy, so she’s confused as to what it’s doing in her apartment) three or four candy bars (which, again, she didn’t buy) and a packet of lemsip. Just, on its own. Without hot water or a cup. She rubs her forehead in confusion and then just giggles. 

“What?”

She hands him his coffee and takes hers, setting the tray down on the bed between them. Coughing a little, she takes a few sips of her drink to try and make her throat feel a bit better before replying. 

“I bought a load of cough drops and things at the shops yesterday,” she explains. “They’re in the cupboard over the sink.” 

“Oh,” he sighs. He didn’t sleep well on the couch at all, and he’s starting to feel a little like everything he does at the moment is wrong. “Ya want those?”

She takes another sip of coffee. “In a bit.”

He huffs again. She raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Everythin’ I do fer ya, ya don’t like.”

Tegan sighs, and then she puts her head on his shoulder. “That’s not true. This coffee is actually alright.”

She means to make him laugh but he just groans, moving her off him and getting up again. 

“I’m no good at this.” 

She watches in disbelief as he walks back out of the room again. “Elvis!” She calls after him, then bursts into a fresh round of coughing. “‘Raur?” 

When she sees he’s not coming back, she decides to get up, slowly pulling on panties and an old Elvis sweater she found the other day in the back of her closet. She pushes on slippers and then pads out of the room, carrying her coffee. He’s always telling her off for wandering about the place naked, so she hopes this will do. She coughs a bit more and sniffs, finding him sat on the couch watching MTV. Wandering over to the cupboard she grabs a handful of cough drops, Vicks and tissues, and then walks over to the couch. Looking away from the TV for a moment, he’s greeted by the sight of his girlfriend walking around in a sweater with his name on it and a pair of boxer-style panties. It’s hard to stay mad. 

“Where’d this come from?” He asks, tugging at her sleeve as she sits down next to him. 

“Found it in my closet. I think I must’ve bought it when I was a teenager. I’m amazed it still fits, but it was pretty baggy on me back then.”

“I like it,” he announces, because he really does. “No panties with my name on?”

She smirks. “I bet I could find some.”

He pats his thigh. “C’mon. Lap.”

Elvis has got in the habit of telling her to get onto his lap if she doesn’t do it of her own accord, and although it makes her feel a little bit like a pet dog, she does kind of like it. And she likes cuddling up with him like this anyway. So she sits sideways on his lap so she can still watch the TV, his arm firmly around her. She sneezes. 

“I’m gonna give you this, if you keep cuddling up to me all the time.”

Elvis huffs again. “Ya want me ta go? I’ll just go.” He lets go of her so she can get up if she wants. 

“I didn’t say that, ‘raur.” She cuddles into him more, her fingers playing with the buttons on his pyjama top. “I just don’t want you to get sick too. I like you being here. I’d be lonely without you.” 

“Hmmm. Wouldn’t want ya ta be lonely.”

His arm returns to its previous position, but he still feels uncomfortable. He’s a protector, but he’s not much of a caregiver, and he feels like he ought to be. After having a child, he thinks he should be better at knowing what to do when someone is sick, but he and Cilla had always sort of farmed that out to other people. 

“I was only teasing, earlier, you know?” She says after they’ve been sitting there quietly for a while, watching music videos. 

“Should’ve known,” Elvis mutters. “Should be good at looking after sick people by now.”

Tegan shifts to look into his eyes, which stare back, full of sadness. “You couldn’t know what was in my cupboards, I didn’t tell you. But you could’ve just asked what I wanted. That might’ve been easier.”

“Oh. I suppose so.”

“It’s cute though. How much you try.”

He huffs. “Don’t wanna be cute.”

“That’s tough really, isn’t it? Because you are so cute,” she teases, rubbing her nose against his. 

“Ya do really emasculate me sometimes, honey. Callin’ me pretty an’ cute. Next thing I know you’ll be plaiting my hair an’ puttin’ on make-up.”

Tegan giggles. “You put make-up on yourself in the 50s, didn’t you? Come to think of it, in the 60s and 70s too, blodyn.”

“What are ya callin’ me now?”

She bites her lip. “Blodyn. It’s a term of endearment, but literally it means flower.”

“Flower?!” He rages for a second, and then laughs. “Yer really callin’ me flower. Aha. I see.”

“Yeah I am. My little blodyn, fy blodyn bach, taking care of me while I’m sick.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “If ya weren’t sick, ya’d be gettin’ a spankin’ for this…”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He gives her a quick hard slap to the side of her thigh, making her yelp, and then kisses her gently on the lips. “I’ll put it on the list of things ta do when you’re well again. Sing ta ya and then spank the livin’ daylights outta ya.”

***

Tegan gets worse over the next few days, and spends them mainly in bed, with Elvis ferrying hot drinks and soup back and forth. Around day four he starts to get sick too, and although he's grumpy about it he only really gets a sniffle and a bit of a cough for a day or two. Tegan is still exhausted a week later, but she drags herself out of bed to sit on the couch. 

“Feelin’ any better, baby?” Elvis asks, pulling her onto his lap as usual and arranging a blanket around her. 

“Hmmm. Just tired.” Tegan’s head flops against his chest. 

“Can I get ya anything? Ya hungry?”

“Yeah, I am actually. Nothing in the apartment worth eating though.”

“Why don't I go out and get us a little breakfast, baby?”

She sits up and strokes his cheek lovingly. “That would be great if you feel OK?” She puts her hand on his forehead to check his temperature, worrying that he's more ill than he's letting on. 

“I feel fine, baby. Jus’ sniffin’ a bit s’all.”

“Don't know how you've got away with that but I shouldn't complain. Don't want to lose my nursemaid.”

Elvis shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “What have I told ya about that? ‘M not a nursemaid.”

Tegan giggles. “Sorry. You're doing such a good job of taking care of me, though.”

He puffs up with pride. “I am?”

“Yes!” She kisses him on the lips. “I don't know what I'd have done without you.”

He grins, pleased to feel useful for a change. “Alright then. You stay there and keep warm and I’ll go and get us some breakfast.”

Tegan chuckles to herself about staying warm in the middle of September in Memphis, but she doesn't say anything. It's sweet of him to worry. As she waits for him to come back, she thinks about how sweet he's been this whole week. It was obvious not being able to take care of her instinctively bothered him, but he'd taken her advice and actually asked what she wanted and by now he was pretty good at feeding her and bringing her medicine. He'd even got in the shower with her a couple of times and helped her wash when she'd been too tired to want to do it on her own. 

***

After breakfast, Elvis watches Tegan take the plates from the couch into the kitchen. She’s still only wearing panties and that old sweater, and he feels his body react to the sight of her ass jiggling a little as it makes its way around the apartment. It’s happened the past couple of mornings, but he’s done his best to ignore Little Elvis and concentrate on looking after Tegan. This morning, though, he’s really making himself known and Elvis isn’t sure he’s going to be able to ignore him. 

Tegan’s too tired to notice the look on his face, flopping back down next to him and putting her legs up on his lap.

“Honey, ya can’t keep wanderin’ about the place like this,” he tells her. 

“Hmmm? Why?” 

He takes her hand and puts it on his now fully-hard dick. She moves her head and her eyes go wide. 

“Oh.” She doesn’t know what else to say. She doesn’t want to tell him to sort himself out, but she’s not sure she has the energy to do anything for him either. Plus she’s not exactly feeling that sexy right now.  

“I-it’s okay,” he stutters. “I…uh… I can sort myself out.”

Tegan shakes her head and squeezes him. “No, I wanna help.”

“Honey, you’re still sick.”

She sighs, her head back on his shoulder. “Well, at least let me watch then.”

She hears him cough awkwardly, as if he’s trying to swallow down something particularly difficult. 

“W-watch?”

“Mmmm. Y’know. You jerk yourself and I’ll… watch.”

“I think I might feel a bit self-conscious, baby.”

“Why? I’ve seen your dick before. And, spoiler alert, I know what happens at the end.”

She hears a grumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve never… done that before. In front of someone.”

“Oh. Well I promise I’d enjoy it.”

He moves his head and shoulder so that she has to look at him. “Would ya?”

She nods. “Here. Why don’t I help you?” 

Reaching down to undo the garish belt he’s wearing, she unzips his pants. He shuffles around to make it easier for her to release Little Elvis from his boxers, then moans softly as she pumps him up and down a couple of times. Letting go, she takes his hand from where it’s resting on his thigh and guides it towards his dick. He takes over stroking himself, enjoying the feeling of the kisses she starts to press to his neck and ear. His other hand reaches around to her ass, grabbing a handful and sighing softly to himself. She bites her lip, thinking about how else she can help him.

“You want me to do this?” She asks, slipping her hand in his boxers to massage his balls. 

He groans. “Yes please.”

She squeezes them gently a few times, and then starts to get other ideas. One of her fingers rubs the skin just below them, and he almost jumps. 

“Honey!”

She giggles. “No?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“I swear you’re supposed ta be sick.”

She goes back to massaging, her lips pressing against his. “I am. I just thought you might like a little assistance.”

He kisses her and then pulls back again. “I don’t need yer finger up my asshole.”

Tegan can’t help herself, bursting out laughing, pulling her hand away from him to slap her thigh in amusement. 

“It wasn’t your arsehole, cariad. It was your taint.”

Elvis tilts his head to one side and huffs out a sigh. “Yer on very thin ice, y’know that? Even sick girls can get a spanking.”

She giggles, cuddling into him and kissing his collarbone. “Sorry, ‘raur. Please carry on. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

She doesn’t really, they hang around his neck as he kisses her, run over his chest, even wrap around his own hand to help him as he gets closer to release. But she does resist the temptation to put them in his boxers again. At least for now. 

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he breathes in her ear, his lips and teeth finding the lobe. 

“Let me see,” she replies, looking down as he kisses her neck and makes a mess of his hand and pants. 

“Oh fuck. You do like me wandering around in these panties.”

“Mmmm.”

They sit there for a while longer, until he decides he has to get cleaned up. 

“You enjoy that?” She calls after him, as he walks towards the bathroom. 

He turns and smiles. “More ‘an I thought I would.” He fixes her with an intense stare. “But not as much as I’d enjoy fucking that pussy a mine, baby. Hurry up and get well.”

***

Part 10

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy

[syngularitysyn]

I get that the Caitlyn hate is tiring as fuck, but lets not defend her so hard that we start giving her unearned credit that results in her looking WORSE.

Caitlyn did not know Ambessa was behind the memorial attack. It might seem like a good idea to think she's having some kind of gigabrain moment in this scene where she puts everything together, but that's not what is happening. If she did know Ambessa was behind the attack, Caitlyn would look worse for working with her anyway and being open to her teachings and training.

Caitlyn is all raw exposed nerves barely held together by her singular focus of catching Jinx. She's traumatized, grieving, riddled with guilt for not taking the shot when she had the chance, and she just lost Vi. She wasn't even fully paying attention to Ambessa before hearing her name. After her initial shock, here's what I think is going through her mind.

Yet more people who look to her to be a leader, to fill the hole her mother left behind, which she's been struggling with as she told Vi. But then, who else if not her could fill this role? And what damage they could do. She lead a strike team to stop a full blown invasion. She knows how bad things could get with someone like Salo in charge. If she refuses and the nomination goes to someone who immediately launches a full scale invasion, it will be on her as well. Of course she also realizes this can help her mission to capture Jinx.

What we shouldn't forget is that Caitlyn has never had any agency in her life. Privilege, yes, but without freedom. Her mother has always decided what Caitlyn could and couldn't do, like being a enforcer and seeing what the world is really like beyond the bubble of ignorance her parents kept her in. Her mother is dead, and here is Ambessa, a warlord, yes, but also a maternal figure. Ambessa is nominating her to be in charge, to be the one who decides. That is a powerful thing for an early twenty-something year old who has never even had full control of her own life. Especially now that she's trying so hard to be what everyone expects of her. Her mother disapproved of her being an Enforcer, but Ambessa is recognizing her for it and elevating her. Ambessa is giving her validation that her mother largely withheld.

When her brows furrow it's with determination to do what she feels she must, and Ambessa doesn't speak until she sees it.

Caitlyn is smart and she knows Ambessa is too. She understood that Ambessa was choosing her for a reason, but I think Caitlyn underestimates how ruthless Ambessa is, and also overestimates her own ability to counter Ambessa and not be manipulated by her to a degree. Which she has, that's why she replies to Vi with "I KNOW!" in episode 8.

But Ambessa also underestimated Caitlyn who doesn't turn out to be the easily controlled puppet she wanted. Arguing that Caitlyn knew all along that Ambessa was behind the memorial attack and what she wanted to achieve is basically saying that Caitlyn allowed herself to be manipulated. It doesn't line up with anything she says or does in later episodes either, where we see her at her worst, even though she's still calling out Ambessa, and she slowly comes back to herself until she gets the last push when she sees Vi again.

Because I don’t think just describing it is as effective, let’s go through the scene where Caitlyn becomes the general. (Note: These gifs have been edited for time and comprehension.)

What’s important to remember before watching this is that we’ve been shown many times now that Caitlyn is a detective. She has the unique power to walk into a crime scene, observe the surroundings, and make logical deductions from the enviroment.

With that in mind look at Caitlyn’s face here after the initial shock of being nominated. She looks down and her eyes start twitching. She’s thinking hard about something.

And then we cut to Ambessa pounding her chest and see glimpses of her henchman arranging the attack on the memorial, in addition to her silencing all the loose ends that could lead back to her. I don’t think this is just for our benefit, I think this is a glimpse into Caitlyn’s mind. (Gif sped up for time)

And then we cut back to Caitlyn, who is now looking around at her surroundings and watching the peer pressure start to unfold. As Maddie and the other Enforcers begin to beat their chests in rhythm to Ambessa’s prompting, Caitlyn looks back up at Ambessa with hatred. Watch those brows furrow.

In this moment Caitlyn KNOWS. She knows Ambessa set up the attack. She knows she was wrong for attacking the undercity. She knows she fucked up by letting her anger at Jinx get the best of her and for creating a rift between her and Vi. And most importantly… she KNOWS that Ambessa is using her.

Note that Caitlyn doesn’t start moving forward until after Ambessa says “come, child.” And when she finally does start walking forward it’s with a slow deliberate knowing pace. She even turns her head and keeps her eyes glued to Ambessa as she walks past her. She may not know WHY Ambessa is doing this, but she’s not stupid. She knows what her name unlocks, having just spent the past 2 episodes abusing her namesake’s power.

But the writing is on the wall now. She has no choice. Whatever it is Ambessa is doing, she can’t stop this nomination. She will have to accept the power. And I think here she is finally FINALLY realizing how fucked up she is. She has just become Marcus. A pawn in a larger game. And the ONLY benefit she can see is that she can use this power to find Jinx and bring her to justice, so her memory of her mother can finally rest.

And Ambessa knows this too. That’s why she leans in and whispers “your mother will have Justice!” And that’s when Caitlyn finally assumes the role of martial law general.

She doesn’t want to be there.

She doesn’t want that power.

But she can’t turn away now.

She’s stuck.

And she KNOWS it.

[universitysunflowers]

It took me 5 days but I finally finished Jenny's review

I find it completely fascinating how one person can spend four hours putting all of my thoughts and feelings about disney into actual words. She not only justified my already declining opinion of the company, but also expanded my knowledge of the complete buffoonery that is happening over there.

There was so much to unpack and while I think the cost vs quality difference is the main thing, I agree with other people that those little fire closets of shame should have been looked at a little more closely? maybe? aren't there standards for that sort of thing? Idk it both amuses and concerns me everytime I think of five people trying to fit in that little porta potty sized room while the building burns down around them. It's probably a good thing the attraction closed down before there was any real emergency to be dealt with.

She's 100% right about galaxy's edge; the one time I went to disney the best thing I got out of it was some cool Batu photos and a stuffed porg (he wears a santa hat). That was pretty much it.

I would absolutely read a fanfic about Amethia Tope and Skippy, they deserved better. Skippy with the little water dish was the highpoint of the video - which just goes to show how bad the rest of her experience actually was (props to the cast member tho that was adorable).

My overall final thoughts consist of nothing but the singular question "does disney have any idea what's going on?"

[ajxrn-archive]

I need to be put in a waffle iron or something

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Dog has a swollen lymph node. Just one for now. Which means her cancer is getting worse already. The longer this goes on, the more detached I feel from reality.

[elpida]

it was probably and very ironically, the most at peace she'd looked for a while, she didn't stir, she just continued to breath softly and at ease until she was blinking. everything was quiet, for the most she didn't remember what'd happened, she couldn't really put it together, the moments she'd reached out for him, or when she passed out, but she knew the sound of the children and their peaceful heavy breaths of sleep. turning her head, she saw asher, the way his head was in his hands.

"i owe you answers..." she spoke softly, a whisper into what was now delicate hours of the night. she felt the coolness on her forehead, saw the damp cloth in his hand and wandered just how long he'd sat there, making sure she wasn't burning up or suffering. she wondered but daren't ask, had the children cared? she knew that in her heart it was best for them to not see her as mommy but... without a doubt when they saw her on the ground, they'd fretted for their mom. maybe not by birth, but she was meant to be theirs. they were meant to be each others. ever so gentle in her movements she shuffled, enough that there was a space beside her and pulled at the blankets bundled around her. "lay down, you'll get cold sat there all night." even then, when she must have felt so fragile, she cared about him. god, she cared about him so much that she'd turned to him in those moments of feeling so vulnerable. the children lay sound asleep, she'd always said that they slept as if nothing was wrong in the world, heavy and undisturbed.

"i was sick.. before everything went wrong with the world." this was the hard part, the part she'd not told a single soul, because she felt so.. incapable. what good was she if she couldn't even keep up now? "and i suppose and i'm sick again, my medication ran out a while ago... that's why i started keeping more to the house and when i went out, i was hoping i'd find something that'd make do, or at least help in some way until i figured a way to tell you." the more she tried to find the words, the more she felt tears well up in her eyes, a clog in her throat when she first tried to open her mouth to say it. "i have a heart murmur.. i have for a long time it was just.. to a point where they were going to do something about it. they never got the chance to operate and i only had enough medication to last me a couple of weeks. i was really sparing with it, i'd have kept up better had i had more and it's not always bad, not all the time, some days are just worse but.." eden couldn't look at him for this growing fear he'd turn away from her, that he'd be angry at her, that he might see her as useless. "if i'd been the odd one out, the weakest of the group, if i'd been everyone's burden-" she closed her eyes, lip quivering. "i didn't want to be... your burden. i didn't then and i don't know so if you.. if... you want to go, i'd understand. if it's a matter of knowing your chances are better without me slowing you down... i'd get it."

he'd wanted to get some sort of answer that night, but the opportunity had never presented itself. it had quickly become clear that this stop was only temporary - that the need to move on would fall far sooner than he would have liked. the house was largely picked clean of any essentials, leaving the four of them cramming into one room that evening rather than spreading out more comfortably, and eden was asleep just as quickly as the children ( and that was not something he'd disturb ). it hadn't stopped him from eyeing her skeptically the following morning - from considering staying at least another day before ultimately deciding they needed to push forward. he'd led them slower that day - his steps more cautious, his frame stiff and alert ( on the lookout for others and eden ).

when they'd stopped that second night, asher had once again left the little trio at the front door as he'd moved to clear the rest of the house and ensure the windows were properly covered before ushering them further into the space. distracted by the excitement of the two children when they'd learned there was a playroom, asher didn't hear the first call of his name. it was only his need to ensure the woman was alright that caused him to look back. his brow furrowed when he took her in - skin far more pale than usual - and when she seemed to sway forward, he was already moving. a curse escaped him - just managing to snag onto her frame but not preventing them from tumbling down to the floor. the next few moments were chaos - the kids were screaming, asher was groaning in pain from ramming his side into the corner of a table while scrambling to push eden's limp form away from him - hand taping at her face to try to wake her up before pressing against her throat. the uneven thump-thump-thump that met his touch was the only thing to get him to calm.

picking her up and bringing her up into one of the bedrooms, he'd slouched against the side and cradled the two children - murmuring soft reassurances until they'd grown drowsy. dragging a second mattress into the space and convincing them onto it rather than curled against eden's side proved more difficult than he'd anticipated, but by the time they'd truly settled, asher was exhausted and fucking terrified. seated beside the bed with a damp washcloth, the man was hunched over himself - head cradled within his hands, mentally berating himself for not just questioning her the night before as he'd originally intended.

[killjoy-prince]

That scientist should not be 18 years old are you kidding me???

[prismatica-the-strange]

Nope, I'm still crying

[autisticlee]

I know it's wrong and bad to say this, but sometimes I really hate when my friends have other friends. (specifically when I can't also be friends with those friends) because every time I want someone to hang out with or talk to, the only couple friends I have are always busy with their other friends. when I want to plan something with them, they will always choose the other friends over me. they will cancel plans *with* me as soon as other friends ask, but won't cancel plans *for* me when i ask. they will use up their social spoons on other friends and leave none for me. always putting things with me off or simply not responding at all.

i'm always told by random people when I say I want mkre friends "it's better to have a couple great friends than many aquantances" or something like that. but honestly it sucks because you can't rely on 1-2 people to always be there for you every day or every week when you want or need someone. if you keep asking, you're seen as annoying and clingy and they will ignore you eventually (or worse)

it's annoying that they get to fill their social needs at all times, but I never get to. because i'm never the one that gets to go first in the social queue. and when it gets to my turn, it refreshes and i'm pushed to the back again.

the only solution I can ever think of is being friends with my friends' friends too....but for some reason!!!!!! that never works out!!!! (if my friends will even share their friends with me to begin with)

[bmpmp3]

the epic highs and lows of trying to read an ongoing shounen manga

[vilelittlecritter]

Me: "I don't like people, I prefer being on my own and not talking"

People: "oh okay we'll leave you be then"

Me: "wait no PLEASE COME BACK I WANT LOVE-"

[orcelito]

A testament to how fucking Awful my post-hiking soreness has been. I got out of bed & had a moment of like "Wow! That wasn't verging on agonizing to do! My muscles Must be getting better!"

Then as I walked to the bathroom, I had a moment of "... 🤨 you're still limping, though."

[glittertimes]

As a 24 year old I’m kind of over drinking culture. The last time I really drank it took me a week to recover from it loll, I’ve been getting really dizzy since a covid infection 2 years ago, and I had a really bad flare-up a month ago after celebrating a friends birthday.

But even before that I drank pretty minimally and I didn’t like how my friends put the responsibility of caring for them on me when they put themselves in harmful situations. I’m always going to be there for my friends, but it takes a toll caring for people and watching them not have that same care for themselves.

And then it’s funny and normalized when people drink all the time.

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[poppyseed799]

I have this problem that’s like the opposite of nostalgia or something where some things I remember liking a lot as a child I look back and only remember the bad times.

This is specifically about Animal Crossing, loved that game as a kid, but I have literally no idea why, cuz it was just pure hell for me from what I can remember.

[djungleskogs]

found out literally like most of my coworkers have been friends outside of work this entire time….