#just depends on how the muse feels i suppose

[elysiaheaven]

𝗕𝗮𝗯𝘆𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴..?-𝟮𝟭-(The Fox's Wedding)

Words:2676

The conversation continued, a lively argument broke out between Yanqing and Yunli.

"First, you didn't kick my butt!" Yanqing declared, his voice filled with youthful defiance. "Second, you'll never kick my butt! Third, how about we settle this right now and see who kicks whose butt?"

Yunli grinned, accepting the challenge with gusto. "Yeah, I'm up for that! And if I kick your butt, you'll drop out of the Wardance. Deal?"

March 7th, looking puzzled, interjected, "Why are you two arguing again? I thought things had been improving between you lately..."

Jiaoqiu, observing the commotion with mild interest, explained, "There was talk that the leading disciples of the Luofu and Zhuming generals were supposed to face off in the Wardance, but for some reason, they suddenly teamed up to train an apprentice of their own. Turns out the rumors are true."

"Tomorrow is the big day of the Wardance," Jiaoqiu continued, his tone taking on a slightly more serious edge. "Shouldn't you two be focusing on honing your skills instead of teaching swordplay here?"

Yunli looked at Jiaoqiu, recognition dawning in her eyes. "Ah, you're... um, you're... That's right! You're the pink-haired fox from the Yaoqing!"

March 7th chuckled, adding, "This is Mr. Jiaoqiu."

"Pink-haired fox..." Jiaoqiu mused, a faint smile playing on his lips. "What are you laughing at? You've got pink hair, too!"

"Well, this is Mr. Jiaoqiu, the healer working for the General of the Xianzhou Yaoqing," March 7th clarified.

Yunli, catching on, asked, "So, you're the participant attending the Wardance on behalf of the Yaoqing, and you were trying to sneak a peek at our training?"

Jiaoqiu shook his head with a light-hearted chuckle. "Sorry for the misunderstanding. I don't know anything about martial arts. I'm just here on the general's orders to take care of some official business. I didn't mean to interrupt your training. I'll be on my way."

Yunli raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "If you know nothing about martial arts, why were you smirking earlier?"

Jiaoqiu shrugged, his smile widening. "Well, my curiosity got the better of me, I suppose. When I heard Miss March's pondering about what to learn, I couldn't help but wander over."

From behind you, you offered a soft, almost ethereal laugh. "It's true, isn't it? Sometimes even the sweetest of us can get caught up in the chaos. But don't worry, you two are doing great."

Jiaoqiu, now focused on the conversation, continued, "From my professional experience, cleavers, slicers, chopping knives, and carving knives are all just tools, kind of like frying, sautéing, boiling, and deep-frying in cooking. They're just ways for people to show off their skills. How you use them really depends on the ingredients you're working with."

Yunli's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Are you saying our swordplay is like cooking?"

Jiaoqiu nodded, his tone more animated. "Exactly! It's like your sword teaching methods. If you align your 'ingredient' — in other words, your apprentice's natural tendencies — with the right 'cooking method' — that is, the teaching method that best suits her — she'll make double the progress in half the time!"

You took the opportunity to interject with a kind smile. "Just remember, it's not just about technique. It's about how you nurture and support each other."

Jiaoqiu added, "For example, Golden Eggplant tastes best when fried, Cloud Peppers when stir-fried, and Yellow Boulder Beef when simmered. It's all about discovering the nature of the ingredients... uh, I mean, apprentice."

March 7th, already feeling a pang of hunger, laughed. "All this talk about food is making me hungry."

Yunli, confused, asked, "Aren't you a healer? Why are you talking about food?"

Jiaoqiu shrugged. "Well, it's just a metaphor. The medicinal school I follow on the Xianzhou Yaoqing is called the Ranzhi School, which specializes in food therapy, so it's only natural that I know a thing or two about cooking."

Yunli raised an eyebrow. "So... you're the general's cook?"

Jiaoqiu chuckled. "I'm a healer! But anyway, a cook who isn't interested in health doesn't make for a good advisor. Fine, call me a cook if you want."

The conversation shifted, you approached Yunli and Yanqing with a warm, genuine smile. "I hope you both find your way and enjoy the Wardance. Remember, it's not just about the fight, but about the camaraderie and the connections you make along the way."

Jiaoqiu, however, seemed to get more serious. "Picture this: Two individuals, the one standing is full of malice, the other lying down is honorable and righteous. How can the one who's lying down label the one standing as 'sinister?' In the throes of combat, where life and death hinge on a singular moment, every idea fades into nothingness. The only thing that matters is 'staying alive.' Surviving the battlefield reshapes all notions of worth. Be it integrity or treachery, in my eyes, their significance is negligible."

Yanqing, feeling the weight of Jiaoqiu's words, responded, "Perhaps you've underestimated Yunli and me, Mr. Jiaoqiu. We may be young, but we've seen our fair share of war."

Jiaoqiu acknowledged their point with a nod. "Well, well, then you should know that the Wardance is nothing more than a contest. So, why are you so focused on it?"

Yanqing explained, "When I was appointed as the ringmaster for the Wardance, I asked the general: 'We Cloud Knights are supposed to charge into the fray and slay enemies. Why do we have to swing swords in a ring just to please an audience?' And this is how the general replied: 'To unsheathe your sword in a ring is no different than on the battlefield, as your sword reveals the might of all Cloud Knights.'"

Yanqing's voice held a note of pride. "The Wardance is the perfect chance to showcase martial virtue and forge alliances from all over the cosmos. When we unsheathe the sword without drawing blood, we not only display our might but also the martial virtue of the Cloud Knights."

Jiaoqiu, now intrigued, said, "That's quite an insightful statement, Yanqing. Well, my apologies for being so short-sighted. I've been on the Luofu for quite some time, but I haven't had the chance to see the ceremony venue for myself yet. Hearing you speak so highly of it has piqued my curiosity. Would you mind showing me around?"

Yanqing's eyes lit up. "You want to see the Skysplitter ship where the Wardance will be held? Let's go! I bet Yunli and Miss March haven't seen it either, right? Well then, I'll give you all a tour."

Jiaoqiu: "Surviving the battlefield reshapes all notions of worth. Be it integrity or treachery, in my eyes, their significance is negligible."

Yunli, curious, looked at Jiaoqiu with a hint of concern but decided to keep her thoughts to herself. She turned to you, her cat-like form now back to its original state after a brief transformation, and asked, "Can you believe it? March 7th has actually become a pretty decent swordmaster in such a short time. Now I understand why grandpa always had a grin on his face while training me."

You responded with a soft chuckle, "It's amazing what a bit of dedication and the right guidance can achieve. March 7th certainly has talent, and it seems like her training has paid off."

Yanqing, eager to move on, looked at the group and said, "Let's go. I'll give you a tour of the Skysplitter."

With a quick teleport, the group arrived at Stargazer Navalia.

Jiaoqiu, taking in the surroundings, remarked, "Looks like a lot of other visitors have also come to catch a glimpse of the Skysplitter."

Yanqing noticed Jiaoqiu's contemplative expression and asked, "What's up, Mr. Jiaoqiu?"

Jiaoqiu hesitated before replying, "No... it's nothing."

Yanqing pointed towards the airship in the distance. "Do you see that airship? That's the Skysplitter, the venue for the Wardance ceremony."

You glanced at the airship with a thoughtful expression and added, "It doesn't look all that impressive from this distance, but I'm sure it's something special up close."

Jiaoqiu's eyes followed the direction Yanqing pointed, and he nodded slightly. "Indeed. It may not seem like much now, but appearances can be deceiving."

Yanqing smiled, ready to lead the way. "Come on, let's get closer and see what all the fuss is about. You'll get a better view soon enough."

Jiaoqiu observed Yanqing with a thoughtful expression and remarked, "Oh, Yanqing, so young, yet so grown-up... By the way, how old are you exactly?"

Yanqing, not missing a beat, replied, "Age doesn't really matter. All swordmasters will understand how I feel."

Jiaoqiu nodded, taking in Yanqing's response. "Hmm... I get it. Looks like all the kids on the Luofu live tough lives. So, how about you, Miss Yunli?"

Yunli, slightly taken aback, responded with a touch of humor, "It's not polite to ask a girl her age, no matter which Xianzhou ship you're on."

You, who had been quietly observing the conversation, interjected softly, "Sometimes the journey is more important than the number of years, wouldn't you agree?"

Jiaoqiu, slightly amused, said, "I'm not asking your age! I'm asking if you have a dream like Yanqing has?"

Yunli, with a hint of playfulness, retorted, "You don't talk like a cook; you sound more like a TV host or something."

Jiaoqiu, slightly exasperated, clarified, "...Need I repeat myself again? I'm a healer."

Yunli sighed and shared her thoughts. "Well, I... I don't have a dream like Yanqing does. The only reason I'm participating in the Ringmaster's Challenge is because I made a promise to my grandfather that I'd win the precious sword he's contributed to the Wardance."

Yanqing smirked, "Sounds like that mind of yours is just filled with swords."

Yunli, with a serious tone, continued, "My... father... was a craftsman on the Xianzhou Zhuming. Because of his foolishness, many innocent people fell victim to the cursed swords he forged."

You, sensing Yunli's pain, reached out with a comforting presence. "It sounds like you've been through a lot, Yunli. Your resolve to protect others from harm is admirable."

Yunli looked at you with a soft smile. "Thank you. Since I was a kid, it's been clear to me that not everyone deserves to have a weapon in their hands. Giving them a sword is no different than being cruel to the innocent."

Jiaoqiu nodded thoughtfully. "So, whenever I come across someone unworthy of a sword, I can't help but want to take it away from them. Given that Yanqing is the Wardance ringmaster, I'm stepping up to challenge him, to ensure the precious sword doesn't fall into the hands of an unworthy master."

Yanqing, a bit defensive, asked, "Hey! What do you mean by 'an unworthy master'?"

Jiaoqiu glanced at you and then back at Yanqing. "I see. It's not easy for kids on the Zhuming either. Well, it's better to have a reason for wielding a sword than to be lost and confused. I've saved countless Cloud Knights in my life, and there are plenty of exceptional warriors just like the two... of you..."

Yanqing noticed Jiaoqiu's sudden shift in demeanor and asked, "What happened, Mr. Jiaoqiu?"

Jiaoqiu shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. "...Oh, nothing. I was just reminded of some old friends and old tales."

Turning his attention back to Yanqing and Yunli, Jiaoqiu continued, "Judging from my professional perspective as a healer, both of you possess remarkable vitality; your energies flow like raging fires and mighty gales. The upcoming fight... will definitely be impressive."

You smiled gently, adding, "I'm sure both of you will give an incredible performance. I look forward to seeing it."

Jiaoqiu glanced around at the Skysplitter and Stargazer Navalia. "Well, we've seen the Skysplitter and toured the Stargazer Navalia. I guess it's time to say goodbye for now."

March 7th, joining the conversation, said with a touch of disappointment, "What, you're leaving already? But you haven't asked me about my dreams! I've been working hard too, you know!"

Jiaoqiu, with a chuckle, replied, "It's getting late, Miss March. Unlike you lot, I'm a grown-up bound by responsibilities and duties. The tasks entrusted to me by the general won't complete themselves."

Jiaoqiu turned to Yanqing with a curious look. "By the way, Yanqing, is it normal to have so many people wandering around in an automated area like the Stargazer Navalia?"

Yanqing, with a knowing smile, answered, "...Actually, this is a restricted area, but since you're all guests, I made an exception so you could take a look around."

Jiaoqiu nodded, understanding. "I see. Well, I'll take my leave. I wish you both the best of luck in the ring tomorrow."

Jiaoqiu prepared to leave, you stood there, bowing with a quiet grace, your eyes betraying an emptiness that seemed to stretch endlessly. Each step you took felt heavier, like the weight of countless regrets was pulling you further into the abyss of despair. The world around you seemed to blur, the bustling Skysplitter and Stargazer Navalia fading into a distant haze.

You found yourself questioning, once again, why you should even continue. The internal struggle was consuming, gnawing at the edges of your sanity with every unanswered query. You walked alongside Jiaoqiu, your movements slow and deliberate, but the darkness within was encroaching, turning each step into a battle against overwhelming sorrow.

Suddenly, you felt a gentle touch on your arm. Startled, you looked up to see Jiaoqiu's hand resting there. His eyes, usually so calculating and reserved, were now filled with a deep, unexpected concern. For a moment, the world seemed to pause as you met his gaze, the anguish and helplessness reflected in your own.

In that brief silence, the walls you had so carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble. You felt a wave of vulnerability crashing over you. It was as if Jiaoqiu's touch had opened a floodgate of emotions that you had kept tightly controlled. Without thinking, you found yourself speaking, your voice trembling with the weight of your sorrow.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry for everything... for ruining your life. I never meant for any of this to happen. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused."

The scene shifts to Jing Yuan in his private quarters, the flickering light of the lantern casting shadows on the walls. He sits at his desk, staring at a letter that has just been delivered. His usually composed demeanor is shattered as he reads, his hands trembling slightly. The contents of the letter unravel the painful truth he had been missing, connecting the dots between recent events and the anguish you have endured.

A single tear escapes his eye as he clenches his jaw, trying to hold back the wave of emotion. The realization hits him hard—he now understands the gravity of what you've been through and the mistakes that led to it. His heart aches with regret as he realizes how much he has misjudged the situation. Without uttering a word, he rises from his chair, determination and sorrow etched across his face. He knows he must see you again to offer his heartfelt apology.

Cut to the ancient seaside shore, where Feixiao stands with an air of quiet anticipation. Her eyes are sharp, but there's a subtle softness in her gaze as she awaits her guests. The scene shifts as Jing Yuan approaches, looking troubled but resolute.

Feixiao "I am glad to finally meet you in person. Guests from the Luofu, I presume?"

Jing Yuan"You're here about the Ambrosial Arbor's resurrection, no?"

Feixiao "Straight to the point. I like it."

Jing Yuan, barely able to mask his distress, takes a deep breath and asks: "One of the messengers... was his name Jiaoqiu? Did he marry the woman named Y/n? No need to worry, I know of her past. and why he might have married her.."

Feixiao's eyes widen with realization. She nods solemnly, understanding now that the pieces of the puzzle are falling into place. Her expression hardens slightly as she contemplates the gravity of the situation.

Feixiao "Yes, Jiaoqiu. He... accidentally married her to save Moze from dying."

Jing Yuan's face reflects a profound sadness as he absorbs this new information. He pulls out a letter from his coat and hands it to Feixiao. It's a letter that provides a detailed account of what ahppened

Jing Yuan: "We understood the history of her past wrong...then, She had every right to be rude towards me."

Feixiao looks down at the letter..

What!? Is Jiaoqiu planning ?!

Is that why..you acted so....mean..? To....Make feel a little better to kill you..?

Your soul has the power to heal...... 

He must have known about it...You also seemed to be aware...

yet

What is.....? Why are you so..? Kind...?

[voicefulvixen]

𝟓 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬.

1. Stand in the Rain by Superchick

2. Green Grass by Ellie Dixon

3. Prom Dress mxmtoon

4. Perfectly Perfect by Elizabeth & the Catapult

5. I Wouldn’t Mind by He is We

Tagging: @thefcxandthehcund​, @nemekii​, @vendettamuses​, @innumerablemuses​, @indomitablespirits (anyone else who wants to :3)

Meadow’s under the cut:

𝟓 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬.

 Whoopsies (from Gabby’s Dollhouse)

Garden of Your Mind (Mr. Rogers Remix)

D.N.A. by China Anne McClain

Ice Cream by OMFG

Nobody’s Perfect by Hannah Montana

[wittlesissyb4by]

"Uhh...are you supposed to interrupt me while i'm camming?" Jimmy's step-mother snapped as he timidly entered the room.

"No Mommy...I just--"

"You're lucky I just started and there aren't many people in yet." She said, annoyed, but not completely dismissing him. Terri could have abandoned Jimmy just like his father did, but she always had a strange attachment to the boy. Like a lost puppy you just had to take care of.

But there were rules. Terri didn't trust the 'men' in the house to use the toilet proper. They constantly left sprinkles on the seat, or left the seat up altogether. She decided long ago with Jimmy's father that diapers were the way to go. For both him and his 22-year old son.

Jimmy's dad hated it, but Jimmy--though reluctant at first--eventually took to them like a moth to a flame. Jimmy was always a wayward kid. Lacking direction, and not very independent. He liked having someone to tell him what to do. To care for him, even if it was in a somewhat demanding, demeaning way.

They depended on each other. They both had jobs, but it wasn't always enough to make ends meat, so Terri started up a side hustle.

"So what is it?" she asked, maintaining that testy tone. "Do you need your diaper changed? Or do you just have a stiffy situation?"

"I...I..."

"Pull down your pants."

"Nnghh no..Mommy..I...I..." he whimpered as he undid his belt buckle and pulled his pants down to his ankles, "I didn't mean to interrupt you I just--"

"Hush." She said, knowing he probably didn't have anything to say. He just needed some attention. A little direction. A little dominating. "Suck your thumb to keep you quiet. Or do you need your paci?"

He blushed, shakily putting his thumb in his mouth. It made Terri feel warm inside, seeing him obey and knowing he was secretly happy to do it, unlike his father, who she couldn't get to agree to much on anything.

"Good boy, now come here." she said, "Now come let Mommy check your diaper."

Jimmy waddled forward as much as his pulled down pants would allow.

Terri groped the front and back of Jimmy's pamper with no regard for Jimmy's personal space. He didn't seem to mind, though. Judging by the prominent throbbing coming from beneath the warm, bloated padding.

"Oh my!! Someone has quite the pamper poker in there!" she mused. Continuing to knead and rub the front of the soaking wet diaper. Jimmy blushed and whimpered, but didn't stop her. In fact, he pressed further into her.

"Awww! You poor boi! Do you need Mommy to take care of it real quick?"

Jimmy nodded harder, whining desperately.

"Ohhhhoho you do, huh?" Terri giggled. It made her melt to see him so worked up. She enjoyed being his little caregiver. It gave her a weird sense of purpose in a life where she otherwise hadn't found any. Of course the situation was bizarre, but hey, with how much Step-mom p0rn was on the internet, people didn't seem too put off by it, so why should she?

"Mmmm who's my big boi?" she asked, his diaper harder and faster now. "Are you gonna make a goo goo in your diaper for Mommy? Hmm? Are you gonna make it nice and sticky with your cummies? Do it for Mommy baybee. Cum in your diaper!"

It didn't take long. In less than 30 seconds, Jimmy was quivering and doing everything he could to keep his legs from collapsing while he busted a big, fat load into his already warm diaper.

"Good boyyy...good baybee..." Terri cooed, continuing to rub him softly while he came down from his high. Once he breathed a hefty, satisfied sigh, she tapped the front of his plump pamper dismissively.

"Off you go." she said, "Mommy has some work she has to do. Go play with your games or something. Mommy will be in in a little while to nurse you."

Jimmy nodded, thumb still in his mouth, but unable to hide a tiny smirk of glee. He didn't even pull his pants back up, just waddled back out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Terri sighed, smiling.

"Oh shit!" she exclaimed, suddenly remembering the live feed she had going. She raced to her computer. "Sorry about that!" she said, checking to see how many viewers she lost during that little episode.

But instead of dropping from the usual 80 or so viewers, the lobby had jumped to almost 2,000! The tips and comments were rolling in.

"Wish I had a step-mom like that!"

"She's sooo fine!"

"The diapers were weird at first, but now I'm kind of intrigued ngl"

"Always wanted to be a diapered dork for a beautiful woman!"

"FINALLY! Some good abdl stuff!"

"It's kinky as hell. But i'm here for it.

"New favorite channel."

"Subscribed!"

Terri couldn't believe it. The money was rolling in, the numbers were skyrocketing!

And it was right then that she realized there was about to be a very new type of Step-mother p0rn on the market.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a weird one, I know. Not usually into this sort of relationship, but I had an idea and had to run with it.

Credit for making this wonderful pic goes to @zzk13122

Follow me here, Subscribestar, or Allmylinks to stay updated!

Another random place too: @wittle5i55ybaby Just in case.

[stay-tiny-ville]

Hwang Hyunjin

Summary ~ lovely boy :( (Or dating head cannons for Hwang Hyunjin)

A.N. - ONE MORE TO GO WHOOOOOOO

A.N. 2 - if my describing of your relationship growing up didn’t make sense I’m sorry I don’t know how to word it 😭😭😭

———————————————————

Muse, love, beautiful, dove, love, angel, Cara Mia, mon Cher are a few names he’d give you def a lot of “my love”s in another language

Ive heard some mixed opinions (well not that many but a couple) saying that he would be reserved and only lovey behind closed doors

However i argue the opposite and agree with the positions on him being a true hopeless romantic at heart

Tall boy loves holding you as you sleep

Obviously wakes before you (Probably) with his horrendous schedule and just has a true “this is life, and i am living and loving being alive” moment when he just gets to look at you all peaceful and beautiful in his arms

Covers the corners of things with his hand so you don’t hit your head

Stfu he would paint you

Your hands, your face, you two together, or he would take a stab at paintings that are simply based on the memory/emotion but not paint the memory (like he would do that thing where people can see sounds and he would try to imagine your laugh and paint it-i'll die on this hill)

Taught you how to waltz anD DANCES WITH YOU ON THE BACK PORCH UNDER THE MOONLIGHT SOB

So dramatic like will burst into tears if he gets a paper cut or stubs a toe (i mean yeah it hurts but he’s dYING)

Unlike some of the members like Chan, he’s always with you, like you’re never alone and if he’s at rehearsals? Oh look, you’re here too. Meeting with JYP? Oh, can you come in too? He’s going shopping? He’s at the red carpet for versace? He’s-

You get it

Spiritually and physically attached

Spins you all the time

Context: every single time you come out of the bedroom after getting ready to go out or simply just coming out of the room he takes your right hand with his right hand and twirls you into his side before a required temple kissy and moves on/out the door

Required ritual or the world ends

I imagine you two as childhood best friends (yes, THAT trope) and i don’t necessarily think of it as one of you had a crush on each other as you grew up, you just grew up together in love as if it’s what you were taught to do

When you went to school and learned about the different types of emotions or had the healthy relationship talk you didn't think anything of it

I didn't know what love felt like until I turned 18 and you thought this adoration was a normal feeling

Until your friends talked about their lives and you realized most people don't have a bond like you do, most people don't feel like you do about your soulmate Jinnie

You didn't feel this way about the crushes you’ve had previously

Normal people don’t always put their one friend before everybody else

Either you went straight to Hyunjin and talked about it because you could talk to him about anything or not, he would realize the same thing, i can’t say if it was slower or faster than you, it depends i suppose

But i imagine the transition was just from the average hugs and hand holding and kisses on the forehead that were just normal things with no thought behind them became ones with love behind them

Puts you before himself

You’re cold means trade cold for his jacket he will suffer instead

You’re sick he’ll sacrifice his health to cuddle and coddle you all day long

You haven’t been eating well/at all he’ll give you his food after rehearsals

Lays his head on your chest

He’s baby :(

SLEEP ON YOUR CHEST AAAAAAAH

Like I haven’t thought about who cuddles how and who is big or little spoon but Hyunjin loves to just lay on your chest or lap

HES BABY

Please he’s dress you up in rich ass clothes even if it looks putrid together

The softest with you when you’re upset :(

Like you’d just not be doing too good be it sad or bad day and he could tell because you weren’t responding as energetically to his jokes and funny haha’s (please that autocorrected to Gaga’s) and his smile turns into a frown and he’d stop you from walking away by grabbing your shoulder that was farthest from him and turned you to look at him

When you kept your head low he ducked to meet your eyes and the sadness/tiredness in the made him sad :(

Takes care of you all day and sits with you on the floor in front of the couch on the fuzzy (I imagine white faux fur bc he’s bougie) rug

You sit in his lap facing him while his back is against the couch and he doesn’t break eye contact to let you know he’s listening so whenever you look back up at him from messing with his clothes he’s looking right at you

Please he’s so baby I could write so much more about hopeless romantic baby Hyunjin

ASO RQ I AM FOREVER OBSESSED WITH BOTH RED HAIR HYUNJIN (which is a trade of passage for Stays at this point) AND MAXIDENT TASTE (which is such a banger I will die on this hill again) SHORT BLUE HYUNJIN HAIR AAAAAAAH

N e ways he’s baby and so so lovely I love

[hedonists-den]

Not really a POV for this one. Just sharing some musings and a scenario where I condition you to be a mindless, pleasure/hunger-driven fatty!

Enjoy! 💜

TRANSCRIPT:

There’s a part of me that wants to make sure you always have more than enough food, no matter what, at all times. A good, doting feeder that doesn’t ask anything of you.

But every now and then, there’s this urge to give you just shy of enough. I know how much you really need, but I want you to tell me how you're still hungry even after all I've fed you. I want you to hear yourself admit to me that you need more, even when you’ve eaten more than the average person could. But will you admit it? I suppose it depends on how long you've been mine. 

When you first start this hedonistic life that I offer you, I can imagine you're shy about it. Timid about your rapidly increasing appetite. Or, maybe you’re a brat about it. Can’t accept giving up control so easily. Either way, you’re hesitant to lose yourself to it just yet. You're dipping your feet in, but you worry about what might happen if you fully accept your life as a domestic glutton.

But when you're sitting there, in the aftermath of the first round of gorging yourself one night, you can't help but want more. Your greed is undeniable. You don't want to admit it, but you can't stop yourself this time. You’re just too hungry for more. You ask me for a second full meal, just after your first. 

"I guess enough food for two people isn't enough for you, is it?"

I drink in the adorably embarrassed look on your face as you squirm over what a greedy little pig you’ve admitted that you are. It may not seem like a big deal this time, but you’ve taken the first step, and there’s no going back. Not now that there’s precedent.

The next time, I’m a little more direct about it. You finish your second meal, as you’ve become accustomed to, and I have dessert ready for you. But you don’t get it that easily this time. 

“Ask nicely,” I demand. 

You look up at me. I can practically feel how badly you want the tray of brownies in my hands. Homemade, warm and soft, still a little gooey in the middle, your favorite. You ask for them, even adding a sweet little “please” at the end. I reach down and grip your belly roll. 

“Again,” I urge, fondling your pretty gut.

You ask again, very nicely, through heaving breaths. I decide that’s good enough, give your belly a nice pat, and set the tray on it. You start digging in immediately. Like a hog at the trough. You’re getting more and more willing to do whatever I ask, so long as you can feel the rush of complete indulgence. 

But I want to make sure that the sensation doesn’t stop at just a rush. It has to be a deeper craving. More primal. More intense.

So when I began slipping my hand under your mound of a gut, between those cellulite-ridden thunder thighs of yours, and pleasuring you for every bite you take, oh you started really packing on weight, didn’t you? And there hasn’t been a feast since where you weren’t stimulated the whole way through. I admit, I never let you cum until I’m satisfied with how full you are, but you never disappoint, and you always earn it. 

It’s like you’ve had this in you all along. You just needed the right person to enable you and push you to be the best hedonist that you could be. Sure, I play the part of the good feeder a majority of the time. But I think we owe it to the dominant feeder in me for how desperate you are to eat and grow now. And I want to see just how fat you’ll let me make you.

[youcalledmebabe]

webgott pretty please!

75. “I’m going for a swim. Do you wanna join me?” (preferably it’s joe who asks. if you are so inclined. 🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂)

send me a pairing and a number and I’ll write you a Drabble

happy Webgott Wednesday yna!! enjoy some hot pygmalion summer Webgott. full disclosure this will 10000% be a fic someday.

Waves crash onto the shore. David can just barely make them out from the porch of the summer house. The moon shines bright tonight but his vision isn’t what it used to be; all the straining to see his journal in the dark in Europe has caught up with him. Or maybe he’s just getting old. Twenty-six tomorrow.

He lights a cigarette and takes a contemplative puff. Laughter and chatter filter out through the windows. It seems nobody has noticed the guest of honor has absconded.

The screen door creaks open and David sighs. Please don’t be his mother. He glances up to see Joe, offering him a glass.

“Water,” Joe says. “You’ve been mainlining gin all night.”

David takes a sip and pats the step next to him. When Joe sits, he offers him a drag of his cigarette. Joe doesn’t give it back.

“People keep asking me if I’m Bobby.”

David grins. He supposes Joe does have the reediness of the Kennedys but one word out of his mouth would disabuse anybody of that notion. “My roommate from Harvard. He’s in Hyannis for the summer. But maybe you’ll get to meet him.”

“You really think I’m gonna stick around the whole summer?” Joe says, but it’s a half-hearted barb. He’d come to Long Island at David’s request, had endured a week of the Websters already and earned the affection—if not approval— of everybody but his father. And David hadn’t even managed that in twenty-six years, so he could hardly fault Joe for it.

“Maybe,” David hums and lights another cigarette.

David watches Joe smoke his cigarette, how his face looks marble under the moonlight. Age is doing him nothing but favors. He feels a little guilty for not being completely honest with Joe.

“I lured you here,” he blurts out. “Under false pretenses.”

Joe stubs out his cigarette, amusement flickering in his expression. “I miss you and I want you to come to my summer home was a pretense?”

“Well, no. But it wasn’t the entire truth.”David sighs and takes a drag. “My parents want me to get engaged this summer. Or to go to law school. ‘War Hero’ got me through 1946 and Harvard student got me through now but my mother needs a new accomplishment of mine to brag about at her functions.”

“Just go to law school, Web, Jesus. You talk enough for it.”

David shakes his head. “Bobby’s going but…it’s not for me. I want to write. Lawyers have to actually work.”

Joe flicks his arm. “You’re a spoiled brat.”

“I invited you out here because I want you to get engaged.”

“So that’s why you tried to marry me off to Ann the second I walked through the door,” Joe muses.

“If you marry some wealthy heiress, your life is set, Joe. And we’ll see each other every summer. Maybe even during the year, depending on who the lucky bride is.”

Joe smirks. “I want no part of this life. You’re all crazy. If I were a writer like you I’d write some great piece on this place.”

“Very Nick Carraway,” David says, frowning. Joe was supposed to want to marry rich.

Joe snaps his fingers. “Gatsby.”

David stares at him, surprised he remembered. But then, he shouldn’t be surprised. Joe had read it too, and Joe had a great memory. So sharp, so intelligent.

“You look like you want to kiss me. Just because I get your little book joke. You’re so easy.”

“Maybe,” David sighs. “But it wouldn’t be very ethical to do while I’m trying to marry you off.”

Joe snorts. “None of these women want to marry a cab driver from San Francisco.”

But what if they did? David knows plenty of rebellious young women, plenty of fathers who would be indulgent enough to let Joe slide into the family. If David could just teach him how to walk the walk, talk the talk, he’d be in.

“I bet that I can get a girl to want to marry you. Probably more than one. I’ll teach you to be a perfect gentleman. It’ll be like Pygmalion.”

David would do Pygmalion right though. There was absolutely no danger of him falling in love with Joe. A bit of fooling around in Austria wasn’t love; Joe had made that very clear. And David was much older and wiser now. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“Whatever that means. We can talk about it in the morning. Speaking of luring,” Joe says. “Can’t believe you haven’t tried to get me in the ocean yet.”

The truth is David doesn’t entirely trust them to be around each other in a state of undress. He glances out at the water, waves pushing into the shore. It does look inviting, and so do Joe’s eyes. But his party persists inside.

Joe sheds his jacket and loosens his bow tie, scowling. He stalks down the steps. “I’m going for a swim. If you want to join me.”

“Well when you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” David retorts, but he’s taking off his own jacket and running after Joe anyway.

By the time they reach the beach, Joe’s only in his trousers. David’s itching for him to take them off; to see moonlit skin.

“You hate swimming. You just want to see me naked,” David says. “Now who’s easy?”

“Nobody hates swimming, Web. It’s just that nobody else is as weird about it as you.”

David grins at him. How he’s missed Joe’s affectionate ribbing. It just doesn’t read the same in a letter. A whole summer of Joe’s teasing; a whole lifetime of summers if he can just get Joe to marry one of Ann’s ditsy friends, or maybe one of the women being offered up to him. “I’m so glad you came.”

Joe waves a hand. “Just here for a free vacation,” he says, but he’s smiling back, and inching closer.

“Kenyon? Kenyon! Come inside. You need to say goodbye to the Gilmores.”

David turns and squints at the porch. His mother is framed by the lights, martini glass in hand. He looks back at Joe and the water longingly.

“Duty calls, Kenyon,” Joe says but his expression softens. “Come meet me back out here when the party is over. We’ll go for a birthday swim.”

“You’ll be okay out here alone?” David asks.

“Survived a war, Web. What the fuck could go wrong in rich person USA?”

Plenty, David wants to say, but it’s mostly psychological. Joe will be fine. He nods at Joe and slouches back up the beach to a woman his parents want him to marry, already counting the seconds until he can be in the water with Joe.

[sorendeimos]

✮ Things Severus will never say ✮

↳ a look through his diary

The pain I feel is wholly insignificant in the face of your betrayal. Oh sure, we have fought and hurt before but this time the pain I feel at your hand is so raw, so visceral, that the only way to soothe it is understanding that you are smiling. Your happiness trumps the pain I feel… I just wish you hated him like we used to so that it didn’t hurt so much when that smile was directed at him.

—after the rejected apologies

They scream and yell today. And yesterday. And every day since. Father doesn’t like when I do magic, Mother says it’s normal for My age and to just not show Father what I can do.

—age 8, 7 months after his first accidental magic

I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM

— after his father hit him for the first time, age 8

ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM

—after his father hits his mother the first time, age 8

I met a girl today that’s just like me. She had hair like fire and eyes like spring. I want to be Her friend.

—after meeting Lily, age 9

I told Her she’s like me. She seemed relieved. I hope She isn’t like me entirely.

—after telling Lily she’s a witch, age 9

Lily and I spend almost every day together, but never at my house. She’s too good for that place.

—on spending time with Lily, age 9, almost 10.

Petunia is the worst. I hope She gets a bee caught up that horrid upturned nose of hers.

—on Petunia, age 10

Mother has told me about Hogwarts today. She says I will be sorted Ravenclaw for my mind and thirst for knowledge. I want to be in Slytherin, to follow Her footsteps.

—on going to Hogwarts, age 10

I’m unsure what hurts more. My pride or losing my first friend. The person on whom I could depend. Who I was changing for. Who looked at me and still believed I had some semblance of good inside, even when I’d proven time and again I don’t. And now I don’t have Her so what, pray tell, is the fucking point. I’ll write to Lucius in the morning.

—after the Assault

The Malfoys, while newly-wed, are gracious hosts. I find comfort in Their home unlike anywhere I’ve ever been before. The future seems promising, and Lucius intends to speak with a benefactor on my potions skill. I shall have word back before Easter on career prospects under the sponsorship of this benefactor. If all goes well, my mastery funding will be secured, a job for after lined up, and I will no longer worry about feeding myself in the off season. Things are looking up for once.

—after Christmas, age 16

Joseph Aston - 25–34 Emily Aston - 24 -35 Joseph Aston Jr - 8–36 ••• Marie LeBlanc - 12–57 Damien LeBlanc - 45–56 ••• Charity Burbage - 37–158

I wish that the love he feels for me didn’t exist some days. He smiles at me and it feels like the sun on my skin after months of winter. He touches my hand and my skin feel alight and ablaze. It will hurt when he leaves me.

—Severus on Remus, age 15

The wolf has some fucking nerve attempting to lecture me on how to teach my class. As if he isn’t a beast in a man’s clothing. As if he isn’t a predator waiting to strike me dead.

—Severus on Remus, age 35

Potter and Black hate me, and I don’t know why. They just do… just like Father then. I suppose it's par for the course.

—musing about the marauders, age 11

I miss you. God, how I miss you. It’s been several months and it still hurts so much. So very much. Harry is safe, Dumbledore will not tell me where he is, but he is safe. Cared for. I hope he is loved. I wish I had not chosen this path. The one that took you away. But I am here now and I will work harder now to fix my mistakes. There’s clean-up to be done, people to put away. Wounds to heal, I only hope that if you look down on me, it is not with scorn with which you do it. Albus thinks this war is not over. If it isn’t… I’ll protect him. I’ll protect him with my life, I swear this. I will do for him what I should have from the beginning with you. I will change. I will be better. I will keep him safe.

—6 months after the Potters’ deaths.

He is more like his father than I expected. This will be tying. I will keep my promise but it will… be a trial.

—after Harry comes to Hogwarts

Give me patience, Lily, your son is every bit your husband and I regret to say I rise to his taunts every time. Patience, for strength, will send me to Azkaban and him to an early grave.

—sometime in Harry’s third year

This is my last entry. It has been years since the war began, longer than expected, and I will likely not make it out. I only pray the souls I doomed forgive me, but I don’t blame Them if not.

—the final page, day before the Battle.

[spenglersweetheart]

Soooo…I don’t wanna seem like I’m taking up your time or nothing…but…hear me out..

Reader works with ghostbusters and one day while the other three are on call it’s just reader and Venkman. They are working on the mood slime doing different tests and such. Venkman comes in to do his usual annoying and flirting technique when the reader shows him a ring on their finger and grin

“Sorry toots I’m taken by Dr Egon Spengler”

Then they just continue with work while venkmans just confused like “hEs EnGaGeD”

no bc i actually don't mind you're actually helping with writing muse because lately it was dead so you're doing my brain a justice !! :)

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

( note, i could not decide who to put for the gif so enjoy all three of them <3 )

Sorry, Venkman, I'm Taken

technically an x reader but love interest isn't in the story? lol idk what to make of this.

WARNINGS : none! just peter being annoying lol

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

YOU WERE JUST TRYING TO WORK WITH THE MOOD SLIME. While the other three were on a call, you were stuck with Peter Venkman. Sometimes it was bearable. Other times? Well, let's just say he was a bit of a flirt. An annoying flirt. Sometimes you can handle it, sometimes you couldn't. It just depended on how you felt and how patient you were at the time.

This day. You were not so patient.

You were conducting different tests for the slime. He was supposed to be helping. But all he did was pretty much hover over you with his poor flirtatious tactics. You weren't trying to give in to that behavior, as you deemed it immature.

"You're pretty quiet today, toots. You're not your usual self," you hear him say.

Toots. It never fails to make your nose scrunch up in disgust. That nickname made you feel like absolute garbage. But you dealt with it, mainly because you had to work with him.

"That's because I'm concentrating. It's kind of hard when you're blabbering in my ear," you tell him as you look at the cassette tape that's on the pool table.

You're looking at the Farewell to Kings cassette tape that's sitting next to the Jackie Wilson one that Egon has used prior for the experiment. It makes you wonder how it would react to Prog rock instead of the rhythm and blues.

"I wonder what it'll do for this tape," you mutter to yourself, before grabbing it.

You walk over to the radio, Peter following you like the lost puppy that he acted like. You didn't like being so close. It was a thing for you. The only one who could get that close to you was Egon. And right now, you were missing that company.

"Guess we're feisty today, huh?" Peter asks.

"Only because you won't leave me alone," you mumble, "You're supposed to be helping me. You could be doing something useful."

"I am doing something useful."

You close the cassette radio. Turning the tune to Cinderella Man. You turn back around to face him. Your eyes narrow before you walk away. He still follows you around.

"And what exactly are you doing?" You question, crossing your arms, "Because the only thing you have been doing is following me around like a lost puppy."

"I'm observing the mood slime, thank you very much," Peter answered, "I'm observing its reaction to you!"

You rule your eyes. "Oh yeah? And how is it reacting?"

"Very, very positive, toots," he tells you.

He tries to get closer, but you put your hand up so that he doesn't. You happen to raise the hand that had a ring on your finger. You had enough of his flirty antics and advances, and it was about time he knew that you were taken by one of your own colleagues.

"Sorry, toots," you say, almost mockingly, "I'm taken, Venkman. By Dr. Egon Spengler."

His eyes widen in shock while a smirk of amusement crawls onto your lips. His reaction was priceless to you. You just wondered what he had to say about it.

"Wait," Peter says, "He's engaged? Before me? How did Spengs get engaged before me?"

You finally put your hand down. "I dunno. Maybe because he doesn't creepily flirt. He's just himself," you say. You give a smile before walking away. Leaving Peter to think about his life decisions.

"I can't believe this," he muttered, before walking in the opposite direction.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 28 – HISTORICAL FICS

In Amore Veritas by FestiveFerret

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 3,903 Tags: Truth Serum, Class Difference, Reconnecting

Summary: Prince Tony creeps down to the stables one night to meet with his best friend, Steve, one of the stable boys. It's something they do often, but this time, Tony has something special hidden in the wraps of his cloak.

Reasons why I love it: Oh, you poor, silly boys. I'm so glad they cleared up their misunderstanding in the end, because those two idiots deserve each other. This fic is super sweet and fluffy, and I bet you'll love it just as much as I do!

as you have honored them by Areiton

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 1,734 Tags: Fantasy AU, Forced Marriage, Protective Steve

Summary: He sits in his chambers, silent as the three serving automans paint his body, gold and crimson. There are the sigils of the Crown that is his birthright, and the ones of Stone’s own kingdom. There are, too, the traditional sigils, of a bride, of the nine gods and the six kingdoms.

Reasons why I love it: Don't mind me, I'm just over here, screaming incoherently into the void. This fic is SO GOOD, oh my god! I love all of the symbolism and the blessings and the ENDING, fuck yes! I really hope you go and read this one if you haven't, because it's phenomenal!

Tribute Given, Treasure Gained by sphagnum

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 12,051 Tags: A/B/O, Power Imbalance, Tribute Tony

Summary: “Steve,” the Captain said, hand over his chest. Tony licked his lips. Was he supposed to give his name, or remain silent until he was asked a direct question? The Captain--Steve, apparently--already knew his name, he had to, it had been included on the settlement he and Stane had signed. Was this a test? Time was passing and Steve was still waiting with his hand on his chest but Tony had to figure out the right answer fast or when Steve moved he might-- “Tony,” he blurted. “Tony,” Steve repeated. He hadn’t come any closer. He said something short that might have been pleased to meet you or you look good on your knees. Tony had no way of knowing and he wasn’t going to risk echoing it. He kept quiet. See, Howard? I do know how to shut up when my life depends on it.

Reasons why I love it: The language barrier gives this story so much tension and intrigue, it's amazing! I love how gentle Steve is with Tony, mindful of his nerves to the very end, and Tony's musings about whether or not he can trust Steve are perfect. I love this fic so much, and you should definitely read it!

a myth to many by nanasekei

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: NR Words: 8,660 Tags: Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Medieval AU, Angst

Summary: “What I’m about to ask you has no relation to our alliance,” Rogers continues, his voice a lot steadier now. “I come here only in behalf of myself, and what I’m about to ask, I ask as a man, not as a soldier.” Howard feels as if he can see the anticipation growing in the room, almost as a cloud forming over them. The guards don’t bother hiding the shock in their expressions, and even Jarvis can’t fully disguise the curiosity, his eyebrows quirked. Rogers takes one short breath before locking his eyes with Howard’s. His blue gaze is almost peaceful in its resoluteness, as if there’s an element of inevitability in what he’s about to say. “I’m here to ask for your son’s hand.”

Reasons why I love it: Aaaah, the ending is so ominous, I love it! The choice to tell this story from Howard's perspective is brilliant. His inner monologue is fascinating, and it reveals so much about Tony's life as his son. And the last few paragraphs are an absolute gut-punch. I adore this one, and I hope you give it a shot for yourself!

Clan (of the Stranger and the Outcast) by greymantledlady

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 5,778 Tags: Stone Age AU, Hurt Tony, Protective Steve

Summary: The Stranger holds out his huge hand towards Tony, palm outwards and upwards. Tony watches him warily, baring his teeth a little, not yet a snarl but a warning. But the Stranger simply holds his hand there, waiting, waiting; and his knife is lying on the ground between them, and there is no threat in the lines of his body. Tony lets out a little breath he’s been holding. And he’s trembling, but he slowly reaches his own hand out, tentative and uncertain, and brushes the fingertips against the Stranger’s calloused palm. And the Stranger smiles a little, his eyes soft, and wraps his fingers around Tony’s. (The one where Neanderthal!Steve and Homo Sapiens!Tony imprint on each other like baby ducklings.)

Reasons why I love it: The way they communicate with each other in this one is so precious to me. I love the whole setting and how their culural differences come into play, it's super intriguing. Definitely check this one out, it's wonderful!

[daredvssy]

Stress

I thought I wasn't going to be able to finish this tonight, but by some unknown power, I managed to complete it. I hope you all enjoy this silly little bit of smut I wrote instead of travelling to campus today!

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here! :)

Ship: Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 2050

Warnings: smut, male receiving oral sex, face-fucking, praise, thigh riding. Idk what to tell you it's all incredibly self-indulgent.

You found Copia in his office, sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. You gently rapped on the doorframe to alert him to your presence. The soft noise drew his attention, and he sat up promptly in an attempt to regain the dignified demeanor he felt he should possess as Papa.

When he realized you had been the source of the knocking, he relaxed somewhat, a soft, weary smile gracing his features.

"Hello mi amore," he greeted you. "Please, come in." You made your way over to his desk, quietly closing the door to his office behind you. He leaned back in his plush office chair and opened his arms to you, a wordless invitation to sit in his lap that you accepted immediately. His arms enveloped you in a warm embrace, holding you in your place on his lap. You placed a quick kiss on his jaw. This earned another smile from Copia, although it was not enough to disguise his complete and utter exhaustion.

"Is everything alright?" you asked him, concerned. "You seem very tired."

He sighed deeply, his brow creasing as he gave up trying to conceal what was already so obvious to you: he was worn out.

"I am tired," he agreed. "My work seems to be neverending recently. My predecessors never made it seem like being Papa was so much work!"

"Maybe it wasn't," you mused aloud, reflecting on the habits of the first three Papa's. "They all put in the necessary work as Papa, and I know they were certainly all known to spend a lot of time partying, but the band has never been so popular as it is now. The Ghost Project has never been more successful than it is under you my love, it's only natural that the workload would increase."

He nodded in consideration; you raised a point that was pretty difficult to ignore.

"I suppose this is true," he agreed, "And I am very grateful. But it is getting to the point where I can hardly manage it on my own. Nearly all of my waking hours are consumed by my work. I haven't even been able to eat with you once this week! Cara mia I feel as though I have hardly seen you at all!" He complained, practically pouting.

You leaned up to place a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling softly.

"While admittedly, I miss you too, I fully understand. You worked so hard to become Papa, I know how important it is to you," you said.

“Cuore mia you are important to me too,” he argued. “My work is not more important to me than you are.”

“I know, Copia,” you acknowledged, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. “But I don’t resent that you’re busy. I know that people are depending on you."

“I still wish I could spend more time with you,” he grumbled.

“I know. But we’re spending time together now, right?” you reasoned. “And if you'd like, I can bring dinner here tonight, and eat with you while you work?"

Your offer drew another smile out of Copia, slightly bigger this time.

"I'd like that very much, amore," he said. "But still, I wish I could give you my full attention, like you deserve. I regret that you will have to settle for sharing my attention with my work."

"I'm sorry that you're so tired and stressed, Copia. I wish there was something I could do to help," you lamented, nodding pensively.

"Just you being here helps more than you know," he told you earnestly, his mismatched eyes meeting your own. "It's nice to be able to feel you like this. I feel like it has been so long since I've been able to touch you."

His voice betrayed a thinly veiled longing, a hunger even. Truthfully, it had been some time since the last time the two of you had been together in any way that could be considered sexual or intimate. He often spent his whole day working, with you only seeing him briefly each night as he returned to his quarters, crawling into bed beside you and passing out quickly. It was unusual for the two of you, to say the least. This planted the beginnings of an idea in your head. You may not be able to lighten his workload, but maybe there was something you could do to make him feel a little bit better, for now.

"You know… I have an idea that I think might just make you feel a little bit better, Papa," you told him. There was a playfulness to your tone, that when combined with the use of his title made him raise his eyebrows at you suspiciously.

"Oh yeah? And what's this idea?" he wondered, narrowing his eyes slightly. You could tell he had already an idea of the direction your thoughts were heading. Instead of answering him verbally, you decided to spring into action.

You quickly repositioned yourself in his lap, twisting in his loose hold until you were straddling him. Before he had the chance to even attempt to say anything, you captured his lips in a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair.

While your previous kiss had been soft and chaste, this one was nothing of the sort. This was a kiss full of heat, designed to stoke the fire that was always burning, just beneath the surface with him. Always quick to succumb to his own carnal desires, Copia melted into the kiss, a moan catching in the back of his throat as he accepted the desire you breathed into him where your mouths met.

When you eventually pulled away for some air, his chest was heaving, and his mismatched eyes bored into your own. The black paint on his lips had begun to smudge around the edges, only adding to his now disheveled appearance.

"Will you let me help you relax? Just for a little bit?" You asked him, sucking a mark onto his neck as you awaited his answer.

"I don't have much time," he began, and then interrupted himself with a moan as you laved your tongue over the mark you had just made, his hips bucking up into you. "But I suppose…” He trailed off. “I suppose I can make a little time for this. Yes," he decided.

A lascivious grin spread across your face.

"Good," you cooed, pressing a palm to his chest, wordlessly urging him to relax back into his seat. "You always work so hard, you're so good at what you do. You deserve to relax Papa, let me take care of you."

He watched you through heavily lidded eyes as you slid off his lap and onto the floor, gently urging his legs apart. His breath started to come in shallow puffs as you dragged your palm over his hardening bulge, pulling apart the laces of his pants with a practiced ease. You made to remove his pants, and he raised his hips a little to help you ease them down his hips enough to free his cock from its tight confinement. It was fully erect at this point, the tip a rosy shade of pink and beginning to leak a bit of precum.

You looked him directly in the eye as your tongue darted out quickly to lap it up. He let out a strangled noise at that, his gloved hand coming down to gently rest on the back of your head, gently threading his fingers through your hair.

You kissed and sucked a wet trail down his length, all the way to the base and then back up again, enjoying the needy little noises the action coaxed out of him. Then, after checking to make sure that his eyes were still on you, you slowly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“Cazzo,” he gasped, taking in a shuddering breath. “Always so good to me,” he moaned as you took him even deeper into your mouth, moaning around him at the praise. You gradually worked your way up and down his cock, taking in more and more of his considerable length with each bob of your head.

You brought one hand up to gently caress his balls, and he bucked his hips up involuntarily at the extra stimulation. The shock of the motion gagged you a little, and he tried to pull you off of him, instantly apologetic.

Instead of letting him, you relaxed your throat and swallowed him down in his entirety. A high, desperate whine escaped him. You clenched your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the ache that was steadily growing between them.

You pulled off of him for a brief moment to take a deep breath. You spoke, your voice sounding ragged, desperate even.

“Use me, Papa,” you pleaded with him. Copia required no further invitation than this. With a deep groan, his grip on your hair tightened, and he began to thrust up into your mouth at a desperate pace. You moaned around him, letting him use you to chase the pleasure he so deserved.

As he continued to thrust into you, a litany of curses and praises flowed out of him.

“Such a good fucking girl, letting your Papa use you like this, so fucking perfect for me,” he moaned. You could tell Copia was getting close when the rhythm of his thrusts into your mouth started to become erratic. You hollowed your cheeks around him as he fucked your mouth, humming a little around his length. The vibrations from this alone were enough to throw him over the edge.

As the first spurt of his cum hit the back of your throat, he practically yelped. Resuming control of the situation, you took him in as deep as you could, moaning and swallowing around him as he rode out his very intense orgasm.

When he finally came down from his high, you pulled off of his length gingerly, bringing up a hand to wipe at your mouth. Your breath was coming in heavy pants as you stared up at him. His gloved hand came down to cup your jaw, and you leaned into the touch automatically.

"Come here, bella," he said, patting his thigh in invitation with his free hand. You didn't wait to be told twice, climbing back up into his lap as he guided you so you were straddling one of his thighs.

He captured your lips in a heated kiss, his hands coming down to your hips, sliding up under your skirt and encouraging you to grind down onto his thigh.

He broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to look at you. He continued to guide your hips in a steady rhythm, the worn fabric of his pants catching on your clit just right, sending lightning shocks of pleasure through your entire body. As worked up as you already were, it didn’t take much time at all before you could feel tension ramping up in your core. You buried your face in his neck, a high, pathetic noise escaping you as your legs began to shake.

"That's it, amore," he encouraged. "Cum for your Papa, just like that.” You were powerless to disobey his command. Your release washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and crying out as you twitched in his lap, your vision going blank with the intense pleasure. Copia held you through it, whispering praise into your ear as you came down from it, catching your breath.

When you met his eyes again, a warm and goofy smile was plastered on his face. He gazed back at you fondly.

“Thank you, cara mia. I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Of course you deserve me, Copia. I love you,” you stated plainly. “Anyways,” you asked, unable to help returning his smile. “Did it work? Are you feeling any better?”

“Oh, yes amore. I feel infinitely better than I did before,” he replied.

“Good,” you said, your smile growing even wider. “Now give me a minute to recover and I will go see about getting us that food. I don’t think my legs will work properly just yet.”

[asteriastarr]

soo you;re bored i see

how about part 2 to the messing around before class one you did. that was awsome and i N E E D pt 2 for it!

from ya fave fangirl - Maddy!!!!!

A/n: I FINALLY UPLOADED BESTIES! Sorry for the long wait- uh just a warning, this one may not be the best (at least at the end)- I did hint more towards Y/n being a plant monster like venus by mentioning the fact her blood is green and stuff. Also yes, yes I did look up Deuce's middle name for this.

PT 2 to this

POV: Deuce and Y/n skipping class

Deuce and Y/n walked down the halls, scanning for any teachers before bolting down towards one of the secret passageways, this one in the form of a statue of a harpy. Y/n pulled down the statues left wing, causing it to move aside allowing them to go through.

The passageway was dark, damp, dreary and often had a weird decaying smell that they had no idea of the source, and yet, this was where Y/n and Deuce would go to get away. They didn’t mind the fact the stone bricks was growing mold, or the fact the ground was always slippery and uneven which often caused Y/n to trip over and Deuce having to steady her. They didn’t mind the fact it was near impossible to see anything other than their eyes without a flashlight, nor did they mind the fact the walls kept sprouting vines that would attack Deuce (particularly since it was Y/n doing that as revenge for him laughing at her for tripping).

As long as they were together, they didn’t mind.

Y/n pulled her flashlight out of her bag and switched it on, Deuce doing the same. The two pointed their flashlights at their faces as Y/n leaned against the cold stone wall, a sigh escaping her lips as she ran her free hand through her hair.

“Is it bad that I found that oddly stressful?” Y/n asked, leaning her head back on the wall, lowering her hand from her head to summon a vine to hold her flashlight for her.

“No, I did too.” Deuce responded letting out a small laugh.

“Do you think Draculaura knows my blood would technically be… greener than red? Since you know I’m pretty much a plant.” Y/n pointed out raising a brow as she lifted her head to look at Deuce.

“Who knows, I was more focused on Heath ‘You would be SUCH a cute couple’, ‘You should ask her out dude.’” Deuce mimicked making Y/n laugh before groaning.

“I never wanna go to that class again.” She groaned slamming her head against the wall.

Deuce chuckled before speaking.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, we can just skip Mr Komos’s class for the rest of the year, hang out in here.” He suggested.

“Nah, I don’t really feel like failing that class, my parents would kill me.” Y/n shrugged.

At this, Deuce merely smiled and spoke without thinking.

“Well, you could always come stay with me for the holidays, they can’t kill you then.”

Y/n once again moved her head off the wall to look at him, quirking a brow.

“Oh? Is that an invitation your extending Mr Gorgon?” She asked smirking.

“And so, what if it is Ms L/n?” He asked, smirking himself.

“I suppose I’d agree, although it depends.”

“On what?” Deuce asked raising a brow.

“On how much I like you at the end of the year.” She shrugged causing Deuce to playfully scoff and roll his eyes.

Y/n laughed at his behaviour for a moment before turning serious.

“Do- do you think our friends see something we don’t?” She asked looking at him.

“How do you mean?”

“I mean all of our friends think we’re a couple, they constantly ask us if we’re together and I kind of understand why.” Y/n mused.

“I don’t understand…”

“I- Deuce…” She sighed before speaking “Do- do you like me? Because and- I hate to admit this because you are my very best friend and I fear what may happen to our friendship if I do admit this but- I really, really like you Deuce Phorcys Gorgon- like a lot, so much so it hurts.”

Deuce paused, looking at the girl of whom’s cheeks- just like she’d said- had gained a greenish tint.

“Y/n… I do like you, more than you know- when you’re not around, I can barely breathe, I can’t stop thinking about you Y/n, you and you alone are the keeper of the key to my heart- Y/n my heart is yours. If you asked me to, I would die for you. Y/n I- I love you.” Deuce spoke.

Y/n gazed into his green eyes, her own eyes welling up with orange tears.

“Can- Can I kiss you?” He asked tentatively.

Y/n nodded, the flashlights flickering as the batteries grew low.

“Are you sure because I really want to-”

“Just kiss me you idiot.” She breathed stepping closer to him.

He dropped his flashlight and closed the gap between them, pulling her into a deep and passionate kiss as the flashlights died, leaving them in total darkness, their eyes closed as they kissed- only pulling away to breathe.

“Might be a good idea to… not tell our friends about this.” Y/n breathed, her arms wrapped around Deuces neck and her forehead leaned against his “They’ll be relentless.”

“Yeah, probably.” Deuce breathed, looking into the girl’s eyes.

[starillusion13]

My Muse

Pairing: Hongjoong x f!reader

Genre: Friends to lovers, fluff, College Au

Warnings: orphan (nothing else).

W.C: 3k

Note: Thanks to the people loving my works and supporting them. I love to read your reviews in my dms so feel free to dm me. Thanks for joining the event.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Request from @lunehong

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere

💟

*under the cut*

The university classes are meant to be fun and boring consecutively.  Well, how you are experiencing them is depending on the memories you are building for you to remember. The morning classes are always being cursed by you and your friends because of your lazy asses not wanting to leave the bed. The afternoon classes are always tiring to you as you keep telling your friends every five seconds that how hungry you are and might die of this pathetic hunger. The over-dramatic self of yours.

Aside from all these usual aspects of life. There is something else tingling in your life or maybe a someone. University campus is really a vast area with different faces, some you remember and some you don’t. There is one face which always catch your eye is the campus heartthrob, KIM HONGJOONG.

He is the topper of your university and also well known for his charming and intelligence in many other fields like his designs are showcased in fashion department, he has his own composing team for the art and music department and so on. He is the icon for an all-rounder student of this national university. Apparently for being so talented, he is known as the perfect walking man who has come out of every girl’s dream. A perfect man with a pointy nose, flawless attractive features with black brown mullets walks around the campus just like every girl’s dream man has come to reality. Well, you also belong to these girls but maybe a bit more than them.

He is your best-friend.

“Hey! Y/N.” Your cause of suffering has finally arrived while you were just trying to pass through the crowds for next class and avoiding every chance to meet him.

You halted in your path to turn around and face him. You give your brightest smile to him just to get an excited and bright look from him. Those smiling eyes and that smile is the reason for your suffering. He is your best friend since high school and you both were inseparable since then even some people have claimed sometimes you to be a couple which you both waved off by laughing loudly at them or showing them your true friendship and annoying friends both of you can be when together.

This was all fine until the incident happened in the mall last year. You were supposed to go on a date with your boyfriend that day but later that evening you found out the ugliest truth about him cheating on you so you called your first go-to escape, your best-friend Hongjoong to cry your heart out. He without wasting any second time, arrived to your house when he stayed with you whole night just to comfort you and hear about your rantings on everything possible. Next day, he insulted your ex and exposed him in front of the whole campus and that’s when your perspective towards him changed. The friendship between you both started to have some tension of falling it apart. Well, this is only from your side because he still sees you as his best partner for every situation to go through and a perfect best friend.

“Hi, Joong. What are you doing here in this sector of the building now? You probably have the music production meeting with the professors.”

“Ah yes, I still have and will go after meeting you. I came here to ask you whether you are free today after classes or not.”

Hongjoong asking you whether you are free after classes? Oh! He is your best friend so you should not think so afar. It’s just regarding your upcoming exams. Right? He just wants to take all the due notes on the classes he had missed.

“I don’t think anything important is there rather than going home to eat and take a nap.” You both laughed at your reply.

Hongjoong seems to scan his surrounding as if to catch any intruder who is trying to interfere in your little moments. He turned his attention back to you.

“So do you want to hang out with me later in the nearby market or to any place you like. We don’t get much time for us and it’s been so long we have shared our life updates with each other. I miss you.” He tried to give you his puppy eyes and pouty look which you found so cringey that you hit his arm laughing. Other girls would have got heart attacks if he ever done this to them.

“Stop it joong. This does not suite you. You are the dreamy boy of every girl in this campus so you need to maintain your high profile and an attractive image.”

No Joong, please don’t change. I always want you the way you have ever treated me, the way you have only showed me your particular phases that no one has ever seen and will get to see. You can call me selfish but I want all these just for myself and to let you know that Joong I am different from every girl. I am your girl. Maybe just as a best friend at least.

Hongjoong stared at you with an amused glint in his eyes as if he is seeing a comedic scene unfolding in front of him. He always finds your ramblings cute and especially when you are a bit annoyed with something and complaining.

“So, are you not one of those girls as well?” His question caught you off guard for a second but then you played it cool. He is smirking in the wait of your reply.

“Of course not.”

“Why? Don’t you find me cool like they see me?”

“No. You are just my annoying friend who always teases me whenever a boy tries to approach me and then you scare the shit out of that boy.” You looked up a little because of the height proximity to show your glare at him.

He again laughed on your act. “They are not good for you.” His expression suddenly shifted from goofy to dark. His jaw look so tensed and bright eyes are now dark.

“Yeah sure as if you are good for me.” You whispered it so that he cant hear you. You just smiled tightly at him “Thanks for caring but I have to go now and I will then see you in the evening.” You waved at him and with quick steps you went to your class.

“You really can’t see it Y/N right?” Hongjoong chuckled sadly and looked up at the sky.

A blue bird was searching for a shelter moreover a home to protect herself from the upcoming storm.

“Everyone has a home to shelter themselves but I have a shelter but not a home.” He left the scene with a single tear rolling down his eyes.

“Hey Joong, so are we going now?” You are so excited to finally spend some time with your best friend after so long.

“Yes, we are going to your favourite park. Remember the one where we first met? I have got some snacks with me so that we won’t be feeling hungry.”

 “Omo how thoughtful you are.” You faked gasped and put your hands on your chest just above your heart. You can feel how fast your heartbeat is even when you are trying to act normal as best friends in front of him.

“So, lets sit by the side of fence, the view will be nice during the sunset and you can click pictures of it to save it for later.” Spring sunsets are always so beautiful and you both like it so much that no matter wherever you are, both of you take your time to cherish it.

Settling down by the side of the fence, both of you are sitting on a outdoor mat with your belongings kept aside and you facing towards the river to take in the beautiful view of the park as its your favorite meanwhile Hongjoong had a quick call with a professor.

“I miss spending time with you here. I still remember how we both met here when one evening your mother was late to pick you up and you were sitting on the bench with a scared face.” You averted your gaze towards the more beautiful view, towards Hongjoong. The boy is smiling at you with his sparky eyes and how bad you want to hug him right now. He is looking perfect under the warm essence of dusk and in the surrounding of spring season.

“Me too….” You replied still mesmerized by his presence beautifully so close to you.

“What happened? Are you thinking something? Are you hungry?” Hongjoong asked you in a very concerned way in which you simply smiled his way.

“It’s okay Joong, I’m okay.”

“Y/N?” his professional deep voice which he only uses when to confront with your exes or meeting anytime for the first time. He never uses that voice to you but maybe you were wrong.

“Hm?”

“You are bothered by something and I can clearly see the effect on your face.” On his remark , you cupped your face with both of your hands and close your eyes tightly to face him with an excuse other than explaining how you feel different meeting him alone now when you see him more than just best friends.

“No Joong, you are just overthinking. It’s nothing like that.”

“Come here.” He is now sitting facing the river with legs resting straight and leaning his upper body on his two arms on both the sides. His face with no expression asking to move towards him. You are sitting with your legs crossed with a towel spread on your legs and eating your favorite snack.

You didn’t understand why is he calling you towards him so you waited for him to say anything further. He extended one of his arms towards you which you gladly accepted with your own. Suddenly he pulled you towards him and make you sit on his thighs. You attempted to complain for his actions because he always does something like this out of his childish acts with you but you find it difficult for you to control your feelings for him in this situation.

You mentally scolded yourself to feel his actions like differently but this was all normal for both of you since childhood. Your questioning look asking him to speak why is he pulling you like this and waiting for him to clarify your thoughts.

“Now tell me Y/N, what is bothering you?”

‘You Hongjoong! What do you think? You are thinking you are helping me in this situation? You are making it more difficult for me.’

You pushed him and run towards the fence and hold them tightly to calm your heart with your eyes closed. It was always so nice meeting him before and spending time with him and ranting about each other’s life but the conditions are no more similar.

You felt someone hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your right shoulder when suddenly he spoke breathily.

“Why are you so easy to read Y/N?” His smiling lips hovering near your neck, this feels make you feel so safe in his embrace.

“What are you saying?” you nearly whispered but still audible for him to hear clearly for so close proximity.

He made you face him by turning your body. Your body resting on the waist level fences and his leaning forward when he put his arms on top of your hands on both of your sides holding the fence.

You looked up into his eyes to understand what does he mean by reading you easily.

“Why don’t you say it directly to me? How long do I need to wait for it?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you pretending not to understand?”

“I- “

“Do you like me?” His expression explains everything that he is not joking at all even he wants a valid reply from you that moment.

“I don’t know…….” You are avoiding his gaze when deep down you know how much you are lying in the moment when you want to hug him tightly and scream how you don’t want to lose him to someone else and make him yours.

“If you can’t say it then let me tell you Y/N, I like you. No wait I love you.” His right hand lifted up to your face to cup the side of your face.

He continues, “You are the reason for my life. I asked you out today not just because I haven’t met you for so long but to finally let out my feelings to you. I don’t know when I started having these feelings for you but I am happy that they are not atleast late.”

“Hongjoong, I have to-“

“Let me say mine first then I will let you to say all your parts.” Maybe he is your bestfriend but he always has this demanding aura whenever he is serious.

“I don’t like when you tell me that boys are trying to hit on you and whenever anyone approaches you with a proposal. I don’t want you to be someone else’s girl. You are my girl. You are my muse. All these designs and songs you see around and the recognition I got from them are inspired from you. It’s all because of you. I never had anyone to call mine as I have been raised in an orphanage till middle school and the family adopted was always too busy to spend time with me and that’s why I always play alone in that park when one day I met you.”

“Don’t you feel afraid of heartbreak if I reject your feelings for me?” You confidently ask him.

“No.”

“No?”

“I know your reply and I wanted you to feel the same for me and that’s why I waited so long just to realize that our feelings are mutual.” He is smiling at you happily which is hurting you more as you still haven’t said about your feelings for him.

“How?”

“Your act of ignoring me when am around. You avoiding eye contact whenever you are telling something private convos. Your jealousy visible on your face and in your actions when girls literally drool over me. Its so simple to read you and trust me I loved it. I enjoyed your possessiveness over me and I want that to feel when we are together not as bestfriends but as lovers.”

“I know….. I have to say you that I like you more you know. You don’t know how much it hurt to see with your classmate roaming around the building and people gossiping you both as a perfect couple when here am left back with feelings for you which I cant even tell you.”

“We are just working on same project you know nothing more.”

“Yes I know but people make up so much stories at some point they hurt you know. I tried to convince myself that I should not feel like that for my bestfriend but I failed miserably each time and fell for you harder.”

Hongjoong hugged you and caressed your back of the head. “Thanks for not giving up on your feelings and that’s why I got the chance to express myself to you.”

“I like you Hongjoong.”

“Oh that’s it?”

“Huh?”

“I love you because you are the poetry to my arts, you are the muse of my life to inspire me to proceed with life in a right way and always being my home but….”

“But?”

“You just like me?.....” He mimicked a sad hurtful expression and you realized what he is referring to.

“Joong! You are playing with me again. Okay listen I love you. Happy?”

“No.”

“Now what?”

“Kiss me.”

“…..Joong”

He gives you a small peck on the lips. “I have to seal the bond when I got the opportunity.”

You hit him on the chest and went towards your belongings on the ground to pack them for you and him. He watches you intently standing there.

“Wont you help me?” you asked him.

“With what?” An amused glint in his eyes and a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

“Hongjoong!”

"Y/N!"

He laughed and proceeded to wrap up everything.

“Y/N? What are we now?” You both have your backpacks on and standing facing each other.

“Bestfriends?”

“But bestfriends don’t kiss.” You become shy when you realised few minutes back Hongjoong kissed you. He comes closer to you and pecks your lips again and then kissing your forehead, he holds you gaze when his hands cupped your face.

“um I am your muse so you are my artist then are we contracted partners?” You joked a bit to calm down your heartbeat. He laughed along with you because the way you were embarrassed with your own joke.

“You are my girl and I’m yours.”

“Mine.” You smiled at him heartily because finally you know you don’t have to lose him to someone else and now, he is completely yours.

Your bestfriend and also your man. Oh maybe your artist, come on you are his muse.

You hugged him tightly which he happily returned you with keeping you in his embrace. Under the thousands of blinking stars in the night sky, there is a beginning of a new love story.

[olderthannetfic]

Just wanted to share an interesting musing: a friend and I at one point bemoaned how hard it is to find niche unhinged flavors of fanfic in newer fandoms (like "I spawned a crack treated seriously/horny af/goblin idea and I made it your problem" kind of writing) because it always feels like a lot of fanfic feel weirdly hallmark movie-esque (repressed? sanitized? family friendly?). And they wondered if its because of the rise of puritan/morality/censorship ideas in fandom. I had a lightbulb moment and said maybe it's also because fanfic tend to be posted in Big Main Sites (ao3, ffnet, wattpad?) instead of scattered into archives (or even personal blogs) that once existed. Could go on with the possible effect of having social media as your first internet thing and not grasping the concept of archiving and your own personal internet space (as social media doesn't reward you for that). But yeah, do kind of wonder if the weird hallmark vibe we get is both because of a fear of being accused of evil and the urge to be seen and praised in a one-sided competition against an ocean of writers.

--

Musing on fanfic anon pt 2: Also just generally that having nearly everyone yeet their fic in Main Fanfic Sites (in which! I am not complaining, as someone who has seen LJ and fics getting deleted but-) makes it just hard to sift through what you really want, even if you're using search functions in overdrive. Anyways musing over.

I think you'd have to define what goblin ideas you used to see more clearly because I can't tell what you're actually describing here.

I haven't noticed any particular change in the kinds of fic that astolat's buddies write. A lot of oldschool types, me included, always aspired to write basically sff novels but with more gay or romance novels about our blorbos. You know: professional-ish prose, coherent plots, etc. They might also be horny af and if our kinks are "weird", then the fics will be weird, I suppose, but only someone who's having trouble believing that anybody could really like that kink is going to see them as crack.

I used to see more "LOL, I wrote this on a sugar high!" type author's notes, but they were never big in the part of LJ that built AO3 and so they're not big on AO3 either.

The "I like hobbitses, especially when they touchessss each other" type fic is still mixed into the oldschool LJ stuff, just in the small proportion it always had. (Yes, I saw you all clicking on that in 2005 and pretending you didn't find it hot.)

I guess it really depends on what kind of unhinged you're looking for.

[stylessatellite]

Style’s Stylist

a stylist!y/n blurb

Warnings: fem reader, implied harry x reader (mentions it like twice)

Face claim: Jihoon Kim

A/N: k, so I lied and I’m posting my stylist!y/n blurb early. I got bored with dealing with my extended family so I finished up the piece instead. also for the authors name, I used a name generator, so if it’s your name i’m sorry.

- Feel free to like and reblog <3 | masterlist

Liked by river_johnson and 70,424 others

harryflorals: FIRST LOOK AT HARRY FOR COVENTRY NIGHT 2! via: user 1

view all 423 comments

user2: omg, praying he unzips the jacket

↳ tpwksunflower: me to 🕯️

Liked by river_johnson and 98,765 others

voguemagazine: @/river_johnson sat down with @/yourusername to discuss styling for @/harrystyles for his final leg of Love On Tour. Check it out with the link in our bio. 

view all 1,247 comments

ynfan1: so glad to know it technically wasn’t y/n responsible for some of the horrendous looks lately

Liked by river_johnson, harrystyles and 798,764 others

yourusername: sat down with @/river_johnson from @/voguemagazine to talk about styling our fav @/harrystyles. check it out here.

view all 638 comments

harry_lambert: lovely dear ❤️ see you soon

maneskinoffical: that’s our stylist! ti vogliamo bene 🩷

↳ conangray: you mean our stylist?

↳ harry&ynfan: not maneskin and conan arguing abt y/n and harry’s here enjoying his trophy boyfriend status.

harrystyles: love being each others muses ❤️❤️

article below | word count: about 1k

Styles’s Stylist

River Johnson | VOGUE

Many of you know the singer/songwriter Harry Styles. Whether it be his music, looks or daring fashion sense. Not many know the person who makes him look that good. With the last leg of Love On Tour having kicked off a couple days ago, I sat down with Y/N L/N to discuss styling for the past couple years. As one of Style’s stylists, L/N shares this position with Harry Lambert. Her other clients include Conan Gray and Måneskin.

L/N herself is dressed in custom Bode with a mint plaid set with a pair of baby pink converse to match. It’s clear that she’s planning on looking up to par with the hoards of fans outside of the stadium waiting to be let in for the second show in Coventry. She’s making me feel underdressed in my beat up air forces and dungarees. She assures me that a boa and a matching cowboy hat would have me fitting right in.

“So how has styling him been different post COVID? Have any of your creative processes changed?”

“It hasn’t been all too different from before I suppose. His looks have definitely changed, but a part of that just came with the album. Really the only difference is there’s less interviewing looks to put together because it’s only waist up now. I just have to make sure his shirt doesn't have wrinkles or a stain on it. Which is pretty easy considering we share the same wardrobe.”

“How do you come up with the different looks for each album and show? And does this differ from awards or appearances? Are there different processes? Acceptable designs?”

“I mean the process definitely depends on the event. His looks for the album are based on what he feels the mood of the album is and wardrobe is based on that. For the album he said he wanted to be more colorful and fun, so that's how we got the varying patterns. So don’t blame us for the mis matching looks, blame him (Harry).

“So I'm assuming his tour outfits are the same?”

“Yes. At the start of each leg, we’ll go through possible designs and what we feel will work best from both our (stylist & artist) sides and his opinions. Gucci and I will sketch some ideas and it’ll get sent to the group chats on which pieces we like, then we'll play mix and match and the night of the show it’s pretty much chosen by the band and him.”

“Elaborate on the band. Because I've noticed that they always seem to coordinate.”

“Yes, certain looks from the band go with certain outfits of his or at his request. If he’s wearing all black then he likes the band to wear pink for some reason. Or if some of the band's looks aren’t ready, then we’ll move that look to a different day and pull a different one.”

“Speaking of different days. I imagine it was quite the switch between show looks and award looks.”

“Oh, it actually wasn’t too bad, it was more of the execution. We had had the outfits planned for months, it was just a matter of making sure the tassels didn't tangle and the (red) carpet look came in on time. Show looks require less coordination because normally it’s just the people here”

“He also had a few outfit changes between the two events, he had what six outfits? What was that like?”

“Yeah no, he had six official outfits plus if he chose to change for an after party, which is all on him to decide, and I don't remember if he did.”

“Do you have a favorite look of his?”

“Are we talking shows? Or award wise.”

“Either”

“I mean any of the ones with the decals. It was really fun coming up with all of the different designs. Tonight’s also might win for this leg so far.”

I then proceeded to ask for a sneak peak but she just laughed me off saying how it’ll ruin one of the best parts of the show, the reveal. Upon more pestering, she revealed that color wise they were matching, which if you follow L/N tour looks, you already know. “Back to the decals. You came up with these designs? I thought you were taking a break from that?”

“I was meant to but then the idea was brought up from all of my doodles during the meetings. Plus I was working on Conan’s and the band’s (Måneskin) looks for their tours, so I was ‘cutting back’ on some work.”

Just then the fans started getting let in and I noticed just how seriously some fans took their outfits with a perfect recreation of a previous outfit or on the other side of the spectrum, various fruits. “How do you feel about the fans' outfits?”

“Oh my gosh. We all love them. They make the whole thing better and sometimes we steal inspiration from them. I swear some of the fans could steal my job and I’d be happy to let them.” She then proceeds to show me the album that she has of the fans outfits ranging from recreations of the Coachella outfits or the custom shirts with funny pictures of the band on it.

Upon wrapping up, she asks if I’m doing anything between now and the show starting. I wasn't, so she took me backstage to get a sneak peak at some upcoming outfits and let me tell you something, L/N really went all out for this last leg. The sequins, tassels everything.

Upon seeing tonight's show, I definitely agree with L/N on tonight's look being a favourite and the decal on the back making the outfit. I can definitely say that his outfits make him shine brighter and you should go see if you can snag a ticket to one of his shows to just watch how L/N’s designs enhance his performance at the very least.

A/N: lemme know if you wish to be added to my tag list

[kunikukitty]

☆ Always An Artist, Never The Muse

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fem!reader

v. assitance

You paced through the hallway of the literature department, trying to catch a glimpse of a hair in the hue of cyan.

You feel impatient watching the students exit their classrooms, walking down the stairway, and talking to each other.

You feel someone accidentally bump in your shoulder but you pay no heed to their immediate apology since your focus is towards finding Faruzan.

You heaved an irritated sigh, it gets really crowded at the time of dismissal.

Well honestly, you wouldn't be in this spot if you were so patient to wait for her at the usual place where you two meet up after class ends. But almost half on an hour had passed and she still hasn't showed up, so you chose to look for her. You don't even know if you're in the right floor where classes under the same major as hers are located.

Another irritated sigh escaped your lips. Maybe she's on her way now to meet you on the usual spot or she's already there waiting for you— you opt to go back.

You took out your phone to check if she has any response to your messages, but there's nothing.

Is her phone out of battery or something?

You walked down the stairs and let out an exasperated sigh. You have a very, very poor sense of direction which is why you're depending on Faruzan to get to the dormitory building for the time being until you grow accustomed with the directions. Plus, you both shares the same room anyway.

As you descend downstairs, you see your phone lit up.

Oh well, what an inconvenience.

You're legs are now tired from the constant walking and use of stairs. The whole university is wide and your current location is far from the dormitory, and knowing you are likely to get lost on the way— you're aware that you would just get even more exhausted before you could even find it.

No matter, you need to get back on your independence anyway.

You finally exited the building and your focus is on Faruzan's guide. All you have to do is follow it, not hard, right?

Turn right... head straight then turn left...

At times like this, you overthink if right is indeed right and left is indeed left. You scratched your head when in Faruzan's message, you're supposed to be able to see the lawn from the distance after the third turn.

Well now, you're standing between two buildings.

No matter how you tried to keep your focus on directions, you find yourself zoning out. Have you pass through this building before? You're not sure.

You heaved an irritated sigh.

Okay, you're lost again and you don't know how to get back on the track Faruzan instructed. Time to use your intuition!

You turned left, more walking and then left again...

You checked your phone to type a message to Faruzan, but before you could hit the send button, you bumped into someone.

"Stupid."

It was a voice of a male that you recognized. It was said sardonically with an obvious hint of annoyance lacing his tone.

You looked up at him to give him a glare in which he responded with a snort.

"Do you have a habit on bumping into people?" He rolled his eyes in disdain. "As much as 'no phone while driving' is being advocate, you must know it should be also applied to walking."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." You said sarcastically, giving him a false apologetic look. "That was on purpose."

"Thanks, I greatly appreciate the gesture."

You sighed exasperatedly.

You have no energy to entertain another argument with him. It's obviously your fault, you're aware, since you were using your phone while walking. But that doesn't mean you'd apologize, not towards him as you held your pride high. He's also being rude about it anyway, you only say sorry to those deserving.

Well, since you're obviously tired, you decided to make use of him.

"Peasant," You called, and his brows immediately furrowed. He doesn't like the way you addressed him, but he didn't bother to react to it. "The dormitory."

"What?"

"Take me to the dormitory." You demanded, hiding the shame that surged within you.

You are naturally independent, yes. But when it comes to directions... you don't really know why your memory becomes similar to a gold fish when tracking down your destination.

You don't like asking for help especially by the likes of him; a man— but you desperately want to take a rest on your soft bed as soon as possible.

"Is that how you treat someone you bumped into? How amusing." He spoke in an unamused tone, eyeing you from head to toe as if disgusted.

"Yeah, yeah, it is how. Whatever." You rolled your eyes as you flipped your hair. "Just do as I say, will you?"

"Why, you want me to keep you company? What an obvious attempt."

You wanted to slap his face for his audacity, but you merely gave a huff. "I just need you to lead the way."

"Oh? Do you not know how to get there, even though it's been like what, two weeks?" His voice is filled with mockery that a chuckle even escaped his lips.

His eyes didn't fail to catch a glimpse of your reddening ears, the way a flicker of embarrassment passed through your eyes. He found it funny that you still remained with your act of indifference.

"Of course, I know! And it has been three weeks, I must correct you. I'm obviously just making you pay for the inconveniences you've caused me."

You reasoning made him let out another derisive chuckle, as if he find the situation entertaining in an insulting way.

It made you realize that him leading the way would be much more exhausting than you getting lost.

"Alright, sure. Since you so desperately need my assistance."

Oh, how you immensely regret your decision.

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taglist. @veekoko @aeongiies @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @magica-ren @feiherp @beriiov @hiraethhv @kleej

can't tag those in bold;(

[thatbanditqueen]

No One Walks Out Ch 5: Salty Lips

Warnings: Tarot misinformation, penetrative vaginal sex, manipulation, fluff, smut, then angsty tears. 18+ Minors DNI.

Apparently I don't know how to schedule things so I am posting earlier than expected. Please file your complaints accordingly.

Word Count: 9.4 K

Summary: Becky has settled into the rhythm of life at Graceland over the first few days there, though she still has not had a full tour. Luckily, her hosts finally get it together to show her around. She goes to visit her sister, but encounters an unexpected guest. At least for her.

I need to first thank my alpha, @whositmcwhatsit for reading the first draft and giving me feedback as she corrected my grammar. Which is generally bad. Thanks Jade, I some how fooled you into hanging out with me and I would feel guilty for asking you to read my stuff, because it takes you away from your own writing which is necessary and needed for the good of the fandom. But you always make my work better so I cannot feel guilty at all. No, I selfishly will take every glance and glint and comment you give me.

Also thanks to my fellow Elvis sister wives for all their morale support and brilliance. Just being in your orbit is a gift: @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love

If you need to catch up first:

Chapter 4: Kaleidoscope

or start from the beginning: No One Walks Out On Big Daddy Masterlist

Chapter 5: Salty Lips  

11:45 a.m. Thursday, June 19, 1975

Graceland Estate, Memphis, TN

A cardinal twittered loudly, joined by a chickadee, and Becky was so ensconced in the bubble of idyllic life at Graceland that she wondered if this musical rendition wasn’t just for her benefit. Lisa gave an excited hum where she sat next to Becky on top of the picnic table by the pool and slapped down another tarot card.

“Alright, Becky, ‘Page of Swords’, what does this one mean?”

Becky looked closely at the drawing, closing one eye and squinting nearer for effect.

“Well, babt,” Becky mused, trying to stifle a grin and pronounce the girl’s fortune with complete confidence. “They all go together.” She set it next to the other cards they had drawn: Strength, The Chariot and The Moon. Becky was not sure how many cards you were supposed to put down when reading tarot, but four seemed like a good number.

”So?” Lisa slapped her hand on the table.

“Well, so, Page of Swords, as we can see here now, obviously means you are gonna live on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and you’ll have yellow tights, and a pretty pink dress, and a big ol’ sword that you’ll be very good at using,”

“I’m already pretty good with my daddy’s samurai sword, wanna see?”

“Hmmm, maybe later.”

Becky thought of her shooting lesson the other day and decided against more deadly weapons. Getting through the day without letting Lisa kill or be killed would count as a win for bonding with the kid of her new  - lover? fling? friend? - whatever Elvis was to her. She decided to go with fling. A short fling. They were two grown adults having a casual, fun, very short fling. Well, one rock star and one adult. 

Was she even an adult? She had spent most of the last three days playing with a seven year old until the late afternoon, and then playing with Elvis into the night. She felt like she had wandered into a strange, enchanted land where all the adults acted like children and all the children acted like adults. Water fights, target practice, ice cream for breakfast, and impulsive shopping sprees. 

Not having a schedule or others depending on her had been freeing at first, but now, on day four of life at Graceland, Becky had started to feel somewhat unmoored from reality away from the structure of her daily life back home.

She looked down at the table, where Lisa was tapping on the next card, and continued her tarot reading. 

“Ok, see here, Strength, that’s an angel with a lion. Of course, now, that is just symbolic. The angel is your conscience telling you the right thing to do, but you won’t have this moral confidence until you own a lion. They can be very difficult pets, I hear, I recommend getting an ice locker for all the gazelle meat you are going to need to feed it.”

“You’re silly, Becky, no one owns lions as pets.”

“No one yet, but hey baby, according to your fortune, you are gonna change all that. There’s nothing you can do. It’s in the cards. That means it has to happen.”

Lisa rolled her eyes, her lips betraying a smile. “Ok, what else?”

“Well, here, The Chariot, clearly one day you will go to Egypt and meet a prince -”

“And marry him?”

“Well, that depends. On whether you like him or wanna feed him to your lion?” Becky growled and gashed her teeth playfully as if she was going to eat Lisa’s shoulder. Just as Lisa shrieked and hit Becky, the back door slammed and they glanced over to see Elvis’ aunt Delta stagger out.

“Alright, Lisa Marie now, s’getting to be round lunch time. I just got Ma settled out in the rockin’ chair, so it’s time for you to come eat.” Delta looked Becky up and down as she spoke. 

“Whatcha y’all got goin on?” she said, and Becky noticed Lisa stiffen and gather up the cards.

“We’re just playing Old Maid, Aunt Delta.”

Becky raised her eyebrow at Lisa, who just shook her head with a crafty smile. Becky turned to the older woman. Hmmm, I guess these older ladies don’t approve of mystical practices. Or maybe they only let one resident here get away doing whatever he wanted. 

She thought of Elvis’ grandmother, who had turned to her after he had left the dinner table the night before, taken her arm and whispered low:

“I hope ya don’t break his heart, like all the rest. That young boy ova there has been through so much. Don’t know why he canna find a good woman. Guess they just don’t make us like they used ta.” Minnie Mae had then released Becky’s hand and spit part of her chew into the tea cup next to her dinner plate. 

Becky only had a moment to feel uneasy before Elvis swooped back in and pulled her into the den and onto his lap, where he cajoled Lisa to perform “Crocodile Rock” for the group on top of the coffee table. 

No, I reckon these good ole girls who sit around bemoaning the lack of any good women left would probably not go in for tarot cards, Becky thought, as she looked at Elvis’ aunt.

“How are you doing today, Ms. Presley?”

“Hmmm, it’s Biggs. And it’s Mrs. And never you mind, you can save it, I don’t care for you kissing up ta me. I know your kind.” 

Becky tightened her smile at Delta’s grimace, wondering if that was the faint odor of vodka wafting off the older woman. Just then, Delta weaved towards her and gripped a nearby chair to steady herself. Her eyes narrowed at Becky in judgment. 

“You are like all the others, waiting around for your payday. Out for all you can get. Bout as useful as gum on a boot heel. Humph.”

“Oh brother, here we go!” Lisa jumped up and walked past Delta. “C’mon, Becky Butt, let’s go get some chocolate cake.”

Becky smiled even wider at Delta as she followed Lisa, and watched the older woman scan the pool area, before tottering back to the house behind them.

“Chocolate cake? That doesn’t sound like a good lunch.”

“Oh, it’s the best lunch, don’t worry, I told Nancy before she left this morning, so it’s all ready.”

“They - they  let you have that for lunch”

“Let me?” Lisa grinned a devious grin and her eyes sparkled. “I’m the boss round here when Daddy’s asleep. If they ever give me any guff, I just lay down tha law an let ‘em know how it is, jack.”

“Oh? And how is it?”

“Get with the program or git!” Lisa held the door to the kitchen open for Becky, and grabbed the milk out of the fridge.

Sure enough, there in the middle of the counter was a tall, chocolate cake adorned with a circle of pink frosting rosettes. Lisa poured two tall glasses of milk  and carefully set out china plates with all the hospitality of a true, Southern hostess.

“Don’t worry, Becky, it’s vegetarian!” Lisa announced, grabbing the biggest knife Becky had ever seen, almost the length of the short, seven year old’s arm, as she proceeded to carve two large, unwieldy pieces from the beautiful dessert.

*********************************************************************

Becky was certain that her chocolate cake was about to make an encore appearance as the golf cart whipped around the bend. Grabbing the top of the seat, she looked over at Lisa as the little girl pushed her foot harder on the pedal and yelped with glee while she steered them down the grass behind the carport.

“I didn’t realize golf carts could go this fast.” Becky gripped her seat tighter, her knees jostling up and down against the metal bar at the front.

“Oh yeah, these are top o’ the line, Becky. Watch, I can get it to go even fast—” Becky put her hand up in protest.

“Nope, not necessary, this - this is great. Very refreshing in the heat.”

Lisa pushed her feet down a little further and Becky held on for dear life as the air whipped through her dark curls and reminded her very much that she was alive and wanted to keep it that way.

“Ok, so this is the stable,” Lisa pointed to a large white building coming up on their left side. “It’s called House of the Rising Sun, and most people think it's after a song, but actually, it's named after Daddy’s horse, Rising Sun. Though I always say he should be named Setting Sun, on account of the fact that the sun is usually setting before Papa gets up and goes riding.” Lisa slapped her thigh, as if making a rimshot on a drum set, and Becky realized this was her cue to laugh, so she let out a chuckle and rubbed Lisa’s hair.

“Yeah, that is a much better name. Or Sleeping Bear, hmmm?” Lisa giggled. 

“Or Grumpy Sleepy Bear.”

“That one sounds perfect, what do you think? We have time to paint a new sign?”

Lisa laughed as she drove them on, showing Becky the trailer where her daddy’s nurse, Tish lived, and the other where Billy, Jo and their kids lived, and they wound their way around the back of the paddock.

“That’s where Daddy likes to race his horses with the guys.”

“For special occasions? Or just for fun?”

“Oh, he does it to show off for the fans.” 

Becky snorted down a laugh and and attempted to catch her hair and pulled it back up as it escaped into the wind. 

“Um, ha - how do you know he does it for the fans? He tell you that?”

“No, my mama told me; he likes to race the horses round for no good reason, just to show off for the fans cuz he’s a big show off and he’ll never really be a true questrion.”

“Well, I don’t know, I mean your mom may not know —”

“Oh, she does, she knows everything. Daddy’s always saying my mama’s the biggest know-it-all you’ll ever meet. And hippo cat. Why would he call a woman a hippo and a cat?”

“Hmm.” Becky grabbed the side rail as the golf cart swerved back around towards the mansion, trying not to laugh at Lisa’s casual description of her parents. “I bet he meant something else and said it wrong, cuz you’re right, doesn’t make any sense.”

Lisa seemed to agree, nodding her head. And on to the next point of interest, her proud, confident tour guide voice explained that the house butted up to fence over there used to be her granddaddy’s. 

They drove past the throng of fans at the front gate near the bottom of the hill they were coming up and Lisa asked Becky if she needed any money or a new camera. Becky wasn’t sure exactly how this related to the crowd, but she had some suspicions as she looked over her shoulder at the people mulling aroun down at the gate. So, instead, she rubbed the sweat off her forehead and complained about the heat. 

Parking the golf cart back at the side of the house, Lisa led the way back inside, suggesting they cool down in the pool. Becky didn’t have a bathing suit, but jumped in wearing her tee shirt over underwear, letting her feet push off the rough, concrete bottom of the pool. She felt an almost instant sense of relief and rejuvenation as she sprung up weightlessly through the cool water and floated to the top, rubbing the chlorine out of her eyes. This was, of course, a futile exercise, as more chlorine water was in her face almost immediately, followed by the sounds of Lisa laughing from where she was splashing Becky a few feet away.

“Oh, you are gonna get it!”

Lisa’s screams ricocheted through the patio as Becky swam over, grabbed her and threw her playfully back into the water.

They raced each other like this for a bit, and then played catch in the water. Lisa particularly liked trying to aim directly in front of Becky, and shrieked with delight when Becky let the ball hit the water and then dramatically flustered about in the wake of the splash, uttering out a loud, affected:

“Now heyyyyy! That’s not fair!”

After a while, Mary brought them out some lemonade, and ham and cheese sandwiches, and they dangled their feet in the side of the pool, eating. Becky pulled the ham out of her sandwich, and Lisa opened her mouth, motioning for Becky to drop the cold cut in, chuckling.

“Hmmm, we make a good pair, huh?” 

Lisa nodded, speaking with a full mouth:

“Mmmm choww nuhff.” She swallowed, and took a sip of lemonade. “How’d you get to be such a good swimmer? You don’ all kinds of fancy moves out there, I never seen anyone swim sideways like that or stay underwater so long.”

“I was on my high school swim team. Then I used to lead canoe trips down the Cahaba, that’s the big river where I’m from, over in Birmingham.” She ruffled Lisa’s hair. “And I was a camp counselor for a while in Mississippi, we spent most of our summer in the pool. I reckon I was a fish in my past life, that’s what Helga used to say.

“Your nanny?”

“MMhmm. You have a good memory, kid, I can tell. You’re whip smart.”

Lisa giggled and splashed Becky with her foot. Water was violently flying up in the air as they commenced in an epic foot splash fight when a loud, deep ‘Ahem’ made their feet still. Lisa’s lips were pursed, emitting a nervous laugh and Becky met her eyes with frightened giddy trepidation as they turned in unison to see the tall, broad silhouette of Elvis behind them. Becky coughed nervously.

His thumbs hung down from the belt at his white trousers and he tilted his sunglasses down to look over them, adjusting his stance.

“MMMM what's - a -a - ahappenin’ ova round these parts, mhmmm?” Elvis tried unsuccessfully to keep his lip from quirking into a smile as his voice boomed out comically deep.

Lisa giggled, and pointed. “Becky started it!”

Gaping, Becky pushed her into the pool with a whispered, “Thanks a lot, Lisa Marie Benedict Arnold Presley!” Then jumped up to say hi to Elvis.

His face beamed with a grin but then, as she got closer, his lip tightened and his chin tilted out as he took in her swimsuit.

“Becky, what the hell are ya wearin’, girl?”

Becky pulled her shirt down, and Elvis went to grab her hands to stop her, as it just made her nipples more pronounced through the thin, wet fabric.

“Elvis, I don’t have a bathing suit, I didn’t think it was that big of a differe—”

“Honey, I can see your hair through your panties,” he whispered gruffly, wrapping Becky in the thick, white, suede jacket he’d been wearing. As part of his outfit. Outside. In June. In Memphis. Becky rolled her shoulders, trying to shirk it off, looking into his eyes imploringly.

“Elvis, I’m all wet, it will ruin this suede and get it all dirty. It’s so humid, too, I just th—”

“Becky, don’t worry about the jacket.” He pulled her in, unable to resist flicking her over her nipple imself as he scolded her to cover up. “Anyone could see you out here.”

“Baby, no one is out here.”

“But they could be, boy, they could be.. ‘Sides, think now what if a band of drugged-out commie burglars jumped the back fence, and I, I had to send you running to safety at that motel across the street? You don’t wanna be waiting for me and the boys and the police in public like this.” He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek.

“Elvis, that’s ridiculous - what is the likelihood tha—”

“Now, c’mon on, you never know, it’s getting rougher every day out there. These are the things ya gotta consider.”

Becky was about to argue with him further, that he was being paranoid, and where did he even come up with this stuff, commie drug dealer burglars? She thought of Elvis doing some of the karate moves he had taught her as a band of crazy-eyed youths scaled the back wall, and almost giggled. However, she was suddenly distracted by the fingers tracing over her hips, underneath the suede jacket, and she shivered as she felt goosebumps rise up on the back of her neck, still chilled from the water. Elvis leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes with a low gasp, feeling his belly press into hers.

“Good thing you got me around to think of every angle.” Elvis clicked his tongue and point to his head. ”Go on upstairs and get cleaned up, wanna give you a tour of Graceland.” He patted Becky on the butt as he turned her to the house.

Shuffling forward in the comfort of her new mobile suede sauna, Becky heard Lisa pull out of the water and ask her dad if they could have a bonfire tonight with hot dogs and baked potatoes and corn and s’mores and coconut cake and ice cream.

“Course, baby, jus let Mary and Charlie know how you want it.” 

Becky opened the door at the side of the house, she looked back to see Elvis kneeling and smiling as he wrapped Lisa in a towel. 

“You’re the boss, booger, I jus’ work here.”

Becky could feel the brightness radiating from Lisa’s broad smile as she went inside, and she shook her head as she mused to herself how sweet they were together. The way Elvis spoiled his daughter was charming when Becky pushed aside her own parenting philosophy, which she had always considered to be overly permissive until spending this last week at Graceland. 

She frowned at the prospect of having to parent with someone like him, and felt a sharp pang of sympathy for Priscilla, a woman whom Becky had always regarded as a bit of a cold Yankee. As if you could ever know what someone is like from reading gossip magazines, silly girl. 

Getting dressed, Becky chided herself for not telling Elvis about her earlier tour of the estate. It was just that he had looked so intent as he told her what they were doing, and the sound of his voice gently commanding her made her agree with whatever he said, take whatever he offered, do whatever he wanted to do. 

Yeah, a long term relationship with this man is trouble. Becky reflected on how relieved she had been when Lisa didn’t wake up and come get her until 10:30 that morning, instead of 8 a.m., like she had the first day, and felt a bit disgusted with herself. Ugh, Elvis’  lifestyle is warping your judgment. Sleep all day, play all night, and now I have to go pretend that I haven’t already seen the grounds of Graceland.

*********************************************************************

The dirt shifted under Becky’s Keds as she walked beside Elvis towards the stables, holding his hand as he squeezed it tightly and turned to look at her, eyes soft and bright as he spoke. Becky summoned a look of awe as if seeing the building for the first time.

“Right, now this is the House of the Rising Sun, on account of my horse, Rising Sun. Though I reckon I shoulda named him Setting Sun, because, ya know, that’s usually when I’m getting up.” Elvis looked at Becky expectantly, and she forced a giggle, leaning into him as they walked into the building.

The sound of horses’ snorting and whinnying greeted them, and Becky followed Elvis as he grabbed a handful of sugar cubes from the front counter and leaned against the white gate of the first stall, waggling his eyebrows at Becky as she cautiously stepped forward. He took her hand, unrolling her fingers and putting a piece of sugar in the middle, then clicking his tongue as the large palomino nuzzled into him, nickering and searching for treats.

“Now, go on, he won’t bite ya - much.” Elvis smirked, watching as Becky rolled her lips in and put out her hand, shrieking at the tickle of the horse’s chin hairs on her hand.

“Is this one yours?”

“MMhmmm, this is Rising Sun,” Elvis told her, turning to ruffle the blonde tuft of hair between the golden horse’s ears.

Becky cautiously stroked the white blaze down the middle of his face, stopping to rub his muzzle as he sniffed her hand for more sugar. She looked into Rising Sun’s large brown eyes, wondering how such a majestic creature could be tamed, and how quickly he would trample over her for more sugar.

“He’s beautiful. And terrifying.” She said, then looked up at Elvis. “Just like you, I suppose.”

Elvis’ fingers caressed over Becky’s dress, stopping at the small of her back to rub into her tenderly. 

“Oh now, don’t tell me ya afraid of me, now honey. Or these horsies, are ya Becky Butt?” He moved behind her, his hand trailing slowly over her arm, down from her shoulder, until it was over the back of her palm. He slowly guided her palm up to smooth over the side of Rising Sun’s face and cheek, leaning into whisper into her neck. “See, now, now, see? He’s a good boy, gentle and well trained as can be. Ain’t got nothin ta fear from hims.” 

Elvis kisses warmed her skin, and Becky shuddered as his lips crushed into her. Moaning, she dropped her hand and turned into him, biting her lip in anticipation as Elvis rolled back on his feet and then forward, pressing her into the white pole that separated the stalls. Rising Sun grunted at them and blew his nose, and Becky squealed at the feeling of his large, gummy mouth chewing at her hair. Elvis' mouth quirked into a smile, but his hand rubbed her side more intently, and a fierce, starved look animated his eyes.  

“Get now, silly horse, that ain’t hay.” He gently pushed Rising Sun away, and pulled Becky into him, gripping her tightly.

A tingle burned in Becky’s belly and she breathed out in hushed desire.

“Huh. How - how does my hair look?”

“Looks a a a, a whole lot better than it's gonna once I’m through wit ya.” Elvis said softly, through a high breathy giggle. Then he looked down, bashfully, his hand rubbing Becky’s waist up and down then pinching her on both sides. Becky giggled, pulling herself into his frame, her hand working up over his chest as she kissed his jaw. 

“Why, Elvis Presley, I declare, are you - are you trying to seduce me? In the barn?”

He shook his head, a goofy expression pushed his lips into a pout.

“Depends.”

Becky arched her eyebrow, her fingers toyed with the high blue collar of Elvis’ shirt. “Mmmmmm? Depends on what?”

Elvis withdrew, blushing, his jaw tightening, suddenly changing his mind from whatever he had been thinking about doing,  “Neva mind, baby. Here, let me introduce ya to the other horses.”

Becky followed him, brushing her hand over the top of his belt and sweeping along his back. 

“Ok darlin’, you’re the boss.” Pushing her hand around him, Becky leaned into Elvis, and he drew her tighter into his side, looking ahead to give a large, black horse a sugar cube.

“This here, now, this boy is special, this is Ebony’s Double, come from a real champion stud, Ebony Masterpiece.”

Becky put her hand up to the horse’s neck, feeling his muscles ripple under his silky black coat as she rolled her hand over him. Breathing in, her eyes locked with Elvis as she caught him looking down at her, and she thought about reaching up on her tiptoes to try and kiss him, but instead kissed his shoulder. It was easier, and she relished the way he squeezed her into him in response. His bottom lip dropped down with his chin, and his voice came out in a raspy croak.

“Hey there, lil’ girl.”

Becky nuzzled in, and shifted the rubber soles of her shoes to pivot and bring her closer into Elvis' chest.

“Hey,” she whispered into his armpit.

Elvis brought her chin up and leaned down, his hand moving to cradle her neck as she curled her fingers into his shirt. Gentle kisses became more fervent as his hands crept lower until they cupped her bottom and Elvis was holding Becky up. Notched above his tummy, Becky’s knees bumped up awkwardly against his elbows, and Elvis chuckled as he carried her towards the back of the barn, almost dropping her with a mild stumble. That would have been the end of the white suede suit. But he quickly recovered, grunting as he jostled Becky up and smiling at the sound of her breathy chuckles as she held onto his shoulders while they staggered to the back of the barn. Becky could hear the sound of horse’s hooves, grunts and neighs, but they were peripheral to the sound of the heartbeat pulsing through her ears.

Becky felt the edge of the workbench where Elvis placed her atop. They were at the back of the stables, next to a saddle presumably left for repair. Beckys legs hitched on either side of Elvis' body, and she dragged her thumb over his cheek, moaning out as his lips found that spot on her neck once more and his hands moved under her skirt, slowly, carefully, tugging on her underwear.

“Hey,” she murmured. Elvis cheeks reddened above a smirk as his dark blue eyes looked down at the ground.

“Hey,” he breathed out in a deep voice.

Becky fell back on the table, resting on her wrists.

“Hey.” she waggled her eyebrows and dangled her legs, then tightened them at his side.

He shook his head, unbuttoning his trousers and moving over her, his lips feathering above her as he whispered: “Heyyyyyyy.”

Becky gasped as she felt him thrust slowly upwards into her, moaning out into his mouth. 

“Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.”

She wrapped her legs around him, rocking her hips to meet him in the slow, gentle cadence of their love making. His eyes narrowed on hers as his movements became more deliberate, and his thumb found the slick over her clitoris, swirling in time to their needy rolls back and forth over the workbench. Heat coiled in her belly, and Becky leaned back as a guttural cry escaped her mouth.“Heeyyyyyy fucking ohmygod heyyyyyyYYYYYY GODDAMMMIT” as her climax overtook her.  

Elvis leaned forward, peppering kisses over her collarbone and burying his head in her bosom where he continued to slow move in and out of her until he came with a vehement grunt and remained there, head in her chest, panting through the final thrusts before stilling completely. 

Becky relished the weight of his body pressing down on her, insistent, immediate, she wanted it to crush her forever. His shaggy swath of black hair moved as Elvis’ chin protruded forward, and she met his blue eyes, looking up at her from his smug, boyish expression. She melted in the radiance of his smile. “Hey.” Elvis blushed, again, then grunted as he pulled himself up and grinned at Becky’s playfully shove.

“Hey is for horses, Presley,” she gasped, and he laughed as he zipped up, bending down to restore her panties to their rightful place.

She wondered if she had made the wrong first impression on the horses, as they ambled out of the stable and back toward the house.

“Hmmm, so that was the tour huh?”

“I think that’s all the tour I can manage right now, lil girl.”

“OK, well, Lisa already showed me the smokehouse, and I’m definitely not having sex in there.”

“Hmmm, well, figured you should know by now, telling me something isn’t gonna happen just about guarantees I havta try.” He slapped her bottom  and she shoved him away, only to have his arm instantly around her, drawing her into the warmth of his body as he kissed her head.

“Just so you know, Becky, I did not intend to get busy back there.”

Becky nestled into his shoulder as they walked. She could still hear the sounds of twenty horses behind them if she focused, joined by the sound of crickets and cars on the far off roads buzzing into the twilight of early evening. Above it all, she could feel the grain of Elvis' voice as it rumbling into her ear, heating the side of her neck with each word.

“I, I  - I just, well, suddenly couldn’t help myself. Don’t feel that way very often, honey, I think - ” He stopped talking abruptly and turned Becky in to face him.

“Honey, now stop walking already, I’m tryin’ to tell ya something.”

As he looked at her, he noticed that her hair really had come half out of the up twist she had styled it in that evening, and he paused to take out her hair pins, freeing her curls and arranging them over her shoulders.

“There, better.” He nodded with satisfaction. “What was I sayin’? Oh yeah. OK. Here it is. I think I’m starting to really fall for ya, baby. I think, well, I think you should move up here. Can’t bear ta think about taking you back to Jackson next week.”

“This week,” Becky muttered, crossing her arms. “Sunday.”

Suddenly the buzzing, post-coital glow disintegrated and she stood still trying to process what he had said.

He took her shoulders in his hands. “Think about it. Didn’t you say you have a sister here in Memphis?”

Becky nodded, her mind still swimming, wondering if there was any way in hell she could, would, should pursue this. Looking up into Elvis’ eyes was like diving into a sea of endless optimism where everything was possible.

“Hey, I got a business meeting I gotta handle tomorrow night, maybe you could go visit your sister? I was thinking you probably would want to while you're up here anyway. And you can think things over. How it would be, if I got you a place up here, come live with your lil girl in Memphis?”

Becky stood there, nodding again, looking back down at the house. Elvis started to walk.

“Don’t just stand there woman, get in here. The most handsome man in the world just asked if you’d be his baby, least you can do is give him some sugar and say thank you.”

Becky leaned back into Elvis' open arm and kissed his chest. “Hmmm, just took me by surprise is all. I, um, I need to think about it, that’s a big deal, Elvis, I , well, I feel strongly about you too.”

She tickled his side as they walked, and he jerked back with a, *Hey, now.*

“You’re right, though, I should try and see my sister. Tomorrow night, I guess.”

*********************************************************************

6:15 p.m. Friday, June 20th 1975

Still at Graceland, for now…

It was one of the new dresses Elvis had bought her that week, a purple, jersey halter dress, that Becky pulled over her head, before asking Lisa to help clasp the simple, diamond drop necklace around the back of her neck. Lisa jumped back, and put out her wrists for a spray of perfume as Becky doused herself and twirled around.

“How do I look?” Lisa put her hand to her chin, thinking carefully. 

“I think you need more eye make-up.”

“Ha, maybe, but trust me, my sister is the opposite of glamorous. She’s a judge. And I’m crashing a dinner party, so I think modest, simple, less-is-more sort of look is what I want.”

“Well,” Lisa sighed, ”you definitely nailed the less part. You’re hardly wearing any diamonds. Sure you don’t wanna borrow some of mine?”

Becky fidgeted with the ring she was wearing, the gift Elvis had given her that first night at Graceland. It was almost too large and gaudy for her style, let alone her sister Deborah’s taste. But it had come to be a comforting talisman, something she felt and twisted when she felt nervous or out of her element here with Elvis, doing whatever she thought she was doing. *Acting like an immature teenager who just discovered what sex is*, she thought to herself. 

Becky also sensed Elvis would be hurt if he saw her without the ring, because he’d mentioned how nice it looked on her several times, usually taking her hand and kissing the ring there before turning her palm and kissing the center of her hand. And pulling her in for a kiss. *Ughhh, these kisses*. Even the way his dry lips bumped over hers at first touch caused a burning electricity to electrify her face and she became instantly incapable of reason. 

Becky sighed, she had this impending sense of doom, her inner Cassandra, as Ida would say, always on high alert to call out trouble at the slightest provocation. Just trust him. This is fun. This feels right. Everything is ok. Wear the damn ring to Debbie’s dinner party.

Becky’s dress swished around her legs as she carefully walked down the staircase, trying not to trip in the orange platform heels Elvis had picked out at the boutique during a late night shopping spree on Wednesday. As she descended, she saw him whispering with Charlie, then the two men heard her and turned around, smiling in an eerie unison. Elvis was somewhat dressed up for his business meeting, in a dark red suit with a light blue dress shirt with a high, starched collar framing his face.

“There she is, Charlie. There’s the most beautiful gal in the world. And the smartest. And the funniest.”

Becky teetered on her platforms as she put her foot down another step.

“And the most graceful woman in the world.” He let out a low guffaw with out, and Becky narrowed her eyes at him

“Oh, keep laughing, Elvis Aaron Presley, I’mma get you for that. Buying me mile-high shoes an then laughing at how I walk in theses unnatural torture devices!”

Becky ran down the rest of the stairs and leapt onto his waist, ruffling his hair as Elvis chuckled.

“God, crazy woman, tryin’ ta kill me?” Becky kissed his forehead as he jostled her up and down, then placing her safely on the ground.

“Mhmmm. Just wanted to give you a kiss for good luck with your business dinner.”

Elvis kissed her back on the cheek as he ushered her and Charlie out of the door with a swat to the butt and a “See ya later, sweetheart.”

Charlie’s white Pontiac was waiting in front for them and they walked around, Charlie leading to open her door. Just as Becky was about to duck into the passenger seat, she saw the long, black snout of Elvis’ Stutz Blackhawk rolling up the driveway, Jerry at the steering wheel. Next to him sat the thin, blonde frame of Linda Thompson outlined against the dark, red leather interior. Jerry was a statue, stoic and serious as he pulled up and Linda burst out of the car to stride over.

“Charlie Hodge, you handsome man, where you runnin’ off to this evening? And who’s your friend?”

Charlie let out a shrill, high-pitched laugh, wondering to himself how Jerry had managed to arrive twenty minutes earlier than he had been told. Becky smiled awkwardly as she watched Linda give Charlie an air kiss on each side of his face, and then turned to Becky and her tight, wide forced cheerful smile.

Charlie stammered quickly, “Ugh, Linda, this is my cousin Becky, from Birmingham, come up to visit while her kid is at summer camp. I, ugh, well I -”

“He promised me I’d get to meet Elvis while I was here,” Becky gushed, summoning all of her energy to force her tongue to sound excited. She watched Jerry get out of the car and walk to join them. His lips were pursed, and his shoulders were stiff.

“Oh, well, it just dills my pickle to meet Charlie’s family, I feel like we’re practically family ourselves, seein’ how much time I spend with this good ole boy.”

Becky tried very hard not to tense up as Linda threw her arms around her to squeeze her tight. Linda wore a red, satin evening gown with cutouts along the side that emphasized her the curves of her sveltetorso and the wide hips below. Becky felt as though her tall, awkward fleshy figure and bust overwhelmed Linda’s body completely.

“Gosh, I just love that dress,” Linda exclaimed, adjusting the layers of Becky’s hair off her shoulder. “Though I don’t know if I could pull that color off, mhmmm, don’t know if that would be my choice, but it's so you, isn’t it?”

Becky smiled. “That’s so sweet of you to say.”

“So, Charlie, the old boy been behaving?” Linda winked at Becky, then whispered conspiratorially. “You know, Elvis is a good, Christian man, s’just that the devil is mighty powerful, hmmm, know what I mean?”

“MMMhmmmm.”

Becky nodded. It was like she was back in high school and one of the popular girls had waltzed up to her desk at the school newspaper, indirectly ordering her to do a story about the committee decorating the homecoming game bleachers. Ughhh.  Becky steeled herself, falling back on the niceties that she was well versed in.

“I can’t even imagine! Gosh, it’s so exciting to meet you, I’ve seen your pictures in the paper and, of course, Charlie has told us about you. But you are just more precious in person, you really are.”

Linda gave Becky another hug. “Well bless your heart, Becky. Aren’t *you* the sweetest.”

Jerry coughed. “Hm, yeah, we better get going.”

Linda shrugged her shoulders. “Ugh, I know, we got this Police Charity Dinner to go to, I flew in from LA just for this. I guess the Lord saw fit for me to make it. And meet you! I hope I get to see you again while you are visiting, are you staying here? With Charlie?”

“Oh God no.”—“No she aint!”

Charlie and Becky both answered together. Becky smiled big again, hugging Linda one more time. From the big, wide-eyed puppy dog look on her face, Becky felt she seemed to expect it. “No, no, I’m staying with my sis - sorority sister from college, who lives here, we’re actually just heading there now, for dinner. In fact, we better scoot, eh cuz?” Becky looked at Charlie, and sat into the car.

Charlie closed the door, a big  smile at Linda as Jerry led her up the steps into the house, and Linda waved goodbye. “I hope y’all have a the best night, see you again real soon!”

A tense feeling pushed up from Becky’s tummy and seized her shoulders in a tight anxious grip. It was one thing to know you were spending the week with a man who was seeing several women at once. It was another thing to come face to face with one and have to lie about who you were and what you were doing. Becky felt dirty, dirty and sick. She didn’t know how she could possibly face her perfect fucking sister, Deborah, and Debbie’s husband Steve, another lawyer, and the various lawyer professional type guests she expected to be at this dinner party. Charlie patted her thigh, seeming to intuit her thoughts, at least in part.

“Ya know, he’s not a bad guy, the boss man. He carries a heavy burden. And Linda’s moved out to LA to try and break into the movie biz. She had him buy her a home here in Memphis. It’s like they both know it’s over but neither one can bear to pull the trigger. And she knew how it was to date someone like him.”

Becky nodded, telling herself not to cry, and leaned against the window, hitting her head on the cool glass a few times as she swore under her breath at how stupid she was to be here. She muttered to herself in yiddish: 

“Ugh, whenever you have choices, oy vey, my sheyna maidel, boy oh boy do you somehow always manage to pick the worst. Your picker is broken, that’s what it is. When you go home, you are turning your love life over to Ida and her yenta brigade. There is a reason they used matchmakers in the old country. People are incapable of making good choices in men when left to their own devices. Stupid, foolish, idiot girl!” She hit her head on the window one last time, and then realized they had pulled up in front of Debbie’s house.

Charlie rubbed her shoulder. “I’ll be out here waiting when you’re ready. I - he - I - he’s gonna be dropping Linda off at the other house. It was, it is, all part of the plan. You see, her brother’s in the police force here. It, ugh, it just made sense that she would be his date for this big charity ball fundraiser for the cops.”

Becky nodded, half in a daze, trying to mentally prepare for her sister, for the dinner party, and for Elvis later.

“Hmmm, yeah, no, totally makes sense, absolutely.” She breathed in, then looked over at Charlie’s apologetic face. “Wait, you’re just gonna wait here?”

“Yeah, the boss, he, well, he wanted me to look after you. On account of all the druggies running wild these days.” Becky nodded. 

“Right. The drugged out commie burglars, those are clearly the biggest threat to my livelihood right now. Not Elvis Presley and his selfish manipulative ways. Not his powerful girlfriend, or her cop brother. Not my family and their judgment. No, no no, it’s the invisible commie drug criminals supposedly lurking everywhere. Well, thank god you’re here Charlie, I feel so much safer.” 

She slammed the car door, knowing it was unfair to take it out on Charlie, but the look on his face when she bent to the window made her heart sink even further before she uttered one word of apology. Because his goofy, winsome smile told her she was not the first woman to yell at him like this. Not only did he seem to expect it, he had mentally braced himself for it. Becky’s face softened apologetically. 

“I’m sorry, for that. I’ll try not to be more than an hour.”

“S’ok, we’re family now, cuz.” 

Becky knew that Charlie’s smile was meant to be reassuring, but it made her stomach drop even more as she turned and braced herself for a night at the Hoffman - Blumfeld’s (very intentionally hyphenated modern family of the 1970s) Dinner Party.

*********************************************************************

To say the night was uncomfortable and embarrassing would have been generous. Everyone else at the dinner party was dressed in jeans, khakis or linen pants and some sort of comfortable blouse or semi-casual shirt, and Becky felt she stood out like a Vegas showgirl at a library full of nerds. Which was probably the best way to describe Debbie, her husband Steve and their social circle. She was grateful it had been Debbie who opened the front door, so she could walk Becky into the side room and they could make their flustered hellos alone. 

Debbie wore a pair of sensible khakis and a tasteful floral button up top tucked in. As predicted, Debbie wore no make-up. And all judgment, though she tried to repress and be loose and fun.

Six years older than Becky, Debbie had always been half friend/half-parent to her, and this was a characteristic she inhabited calling out “Rebecca, please come in!” when she greeted Becky at the door.

Thank god for wine, the Hoffman-Blumfeld intentionally hyphenated household had some very good bottles of wine on offer and, after sipping one glass gracefully, and the another quickly in the kitchen, Becky was able to exhale and confront the evening with a blundering fort of confidence. She decided to pretend the meeting with Linda never happened, and stumbled confidently through her description of her relationship. She was dating a man who worked in the music business, after meeting him with Danny at a radio event fundraiser for the tornado in Mississippi. Was it serious? Well, sort of, he had invited her to Memphis for the week to meet his daughter, and he was trying to persuade her to move there. But her very successful life managing Saul and Ida’s store, and all her f.’

riends, made her reluctant to leave Jackson.

“I’m just taking a day at a time.” Becky winked and sipped her wine, before taking another mouthful of salmon.

After dessert, Debbie cornered her in the kitchen and asked if they could talk somewhere. Putting up her finger while she poured another glass of wine, Becky nodded and followed Deb to a bedroom, where she sat on a tasteful quilt blanket and had a tasteful restrained conversation about the impossibility of letting her father see Ruth secretly the next time she was in Birmingham.

“She is his only grandchild, Becks.”

“Well, they should have thought about that possibility when they kicked me out. Three months pregnant. Pronounced me a shonda, and disowned me.”

“Do you really want to have Ruth grow up without her grandparents?”

“I didn’t make that decision, Debbie, they did. Maybe, maybe, maybe if Papa was willing to admit how wrong they were, and stand up to Mama, and if he had any backbone at all and publicly welcomed me home for everyone to see, for Ruth to experience a true family, maybe.”

Debbie responded with a knowing look. “Well, I told Papa I was gonna see you when he called earlier, and I promised to ask, but I don’t blame you. I wish Ruth was here now, it’s been too long. And this guy, hmmm? Sounds promising. He wants you to move here?” Becky gulped her wine down first, rubbing her sister's arm. 

“Yup, yes, mhmmm. Oh yeah, finally, right? Everything’s coming up Becky. I can’t wait for you to meet him, because I’ll definitely be back up here with Ruth after she finishes camp. Ah, yes, mmhmmm.” She downed the last sip of wine, smiling so enthusiastically she almost laughed at how absurd the charade was. “I feel like, ugh, finally, right? I’m finally getting that happiness I searched for, for so long. ”

*********************************************************************

“You are never going to find happiness.” Becky said to the fork of coconut cake as she brought it to her mouth, letting the sweet, sticky crunchy sugar do its work comforting her momentarily as she chewed it and swallowed it down with some chocolate milk. The door to the kitchen opened, and she jerked her head up to see little Lisa Marie poke her head around.

“What are you doing?”

“Umm, late night cake?” Becky answered.

“Have you been crying?” Lisa asked as she stepped closer, getting herself a plate and a piece of cake.

“No, honey, no, it’s just been a long day.”

“Is it cuz of my daddy?”

Becky shook her head, too vigorously perhaps. “Npoooo no nononoo. No. It’s just been a long day.”

“You’re a bad liar, Becky Butt,” Lisa said, taking a big bite of cake, and then rubbing Becky’s shoulder. It broke her heart to see Lisa’s genuine look of pity staring up at her as she tried to comfort Becky. “Why is he like this? Mommy says he ruins every relationship and he’ll never truly be happy.”

Becky laughed at Lisa’s matter-of-fact statement. “Oh, my dear, I think your mama is very wise, but who knows what the future will bring. I do know your daddy loves you, that’s a relationship that makes him happy. Trust me, my parents never openly showed me love the way I see him show you. He’s a good man. There are just some things I might do differently if I were him.”

Lisa looked up at her. “Like what?”

“Well, for starters, I’d carry around less guns, I guess, that's dangerous. And maybe wear less jewelry, probably out there blinding people with all those dazzling gems and diamonds all over his person.”

Lisa laughed out loud as she finished her cake, and let Becky walk her up the stairs where she tucked Lisa back into bed and then returned to the kitchen.

Becky was down on her knees, looking through the drawers under the phone when she heard the door behind her slam shut. Glancing up, she saw Elvis’ broad figure swagger slowly toward her in the dimness of the kitchen lit only by one of the lights under a cabinet. He sighed and stopped, hands bracing the front of his hips, spread out fully extending his fingers as they tapped a little ditty over the sides of his belly. 

With his jacket pushed back at the hips, he looked even wider and more intimidating than usual. His lips were pursed in a frown at the sight of Becky in the jeans, converse and Destin tee shirt she had been wearing when she left Jackson the previous Sunday.

“Huh, hey.”

Becky turned back to look up at him. “Oh, hey!”

He adjusted his stance, pivoting his feet and twitching his left knee, his thumbs tapping over his belt.

“Watcha doin’?”

“You don’t know where the yellow pages are, do you? I’ve been looking for a phone book for the last fifteen minutes.”

Elvis sucked in a deep breath and adjusted his glasses. “Why, uh, why ya looking for the phone book?”

“Well, maybe you can help me.”

Becky returned her attention to the kitchen drawers in front of her, trying not to flinch as she heard the thud of Elvis boots walk closer and stop directly behind her. She chose not to twist back around and look at him, afraid she might cry or be dramatic, so she decided to speak directly into the drawers as she continued to look through them.

“You see, I’m trying to find a number for a local cab company, so I can get to the Greyhound station.”

“Mhmmm. I noticed your bag in the foyer.”

“Oh yeah, that,” Becky sighed, shutting one drawer and then opening another. “Well, you see, it just dills my pickle to be all prepared and ready to go when I call up a car to come get me. Although I had rather hoped I would have been gone before you got back, I didn’t want to bother you. But, since you’re here, maybe you can make yourself useful and help find the phone book?”

Elvis bent and leaned over the island that jutted out of the counter at the front of the kitchen.

“Honey, I have absolutely no intention a helpin’ you find a phone book.”

Becky stopped and fell back against the cupboard next to the set of drawers, her legs stretching out over the dark, burgundy carpet that covered the kitchen.She banged her hand back and closed her eyes.

“Why? Why can’t you just give me the phonebook?”

Elvis walked over and stood above Becky, his hand reaching down. “Cuz I don’t want you ta leave, honey. Not like this. C’mon, let’s talk. If you still wanna go home, why, I’ll drive you back to Jackson myself, like I promised.”

Becky glared up at his hand. “No.”

“What, you just gonna stay there on the ground?”

“Mhmmm.” She crossed her legs and her arms and tilted back into the cabinet. “Yup, yessiree. This is my home now, til I get a cab, I reckon.”

Elvis meandered over slowly and groaned as he lowered himself next to her on the floor. He moved his hand out to touch hers, only to be rebuked by their swift retreat back under her breasts in a huff of crossed arms and limbs. He rolled his neck to meet her gaze against the wooden cabinet.

“Honey, you are actin’ like a child. This is all one big misunderstanding. Now, c’mon.”

Elvis put his hand over her thigh, but Becky swatted it away, so he grabbed the foot she had criss crossed over her knee, and rolled into her shoulder as he scooted closer, squeezing her foot.

“Becky, look, you know I have other friends —”

“Girl friends, yes, I know about them, but apparently they don’t know about me. Do you have any idea how horrible that felt? Lying, looking at your beautiful beauty queen girlfriend, pretending to be Charlie’s cousin?” She pressed her face against the cupboard and let the tears come pouring out. “Ugh, I am so stupid, I know this isn’t me. I am not cut out to be the other woman.”

“Sssshhh.” Elvis put his arm around Becky’s shoulder, massaging her as he drew her body into his, bringing her head to nuzzle in his chest, where she gave up and grasped his shirt, letting the sobs come out as she cried into him. “Sshhhh. S’ok, s’ok.”

“No, s’not ok, ugh, I’m a horrible person, a traitor to my sex.” Her fist bumped tepidly into Elvis’ chest. She looked up at his chuckles. “What, why are you laughing at me?”

“Baby, you are too pretty to cry. Now, come on. Linda is not my wife, she knows it, I know it, things haven’t been going well and our relationship has been sorta peeterin’ out. But I have to do things my own way, ok? Her brother is on the police force, it made sense, right now, for me to take her as my date. But I swear, nothing happened. I’m here with you. At my house. Would I have a mistress at my house, where I lived, if I was keeping her a secret?”

Becky wiped her eyes. “You think she knows about me? She knew when she met me?”

Elvis sucked in his breath. “Honey, I don’t know, and frankly, right now I don’t care who knows. I-I, I didn’t wanna get into it tonight. But Linda knows well enough how it is with me. Look, I want to be with you, here, now. So let’s be together, and let’s go to bed.”

He said this with finality, and stood up, groaning slightly and steadying himself against the sink,  and Becky followed, exhaling loudly as she pulled herself up on his outstretched hand and walked with him out of the kitchen, still sniffling and wiping her eyes into his silk dress shirt.

“Ok, but only because the floor was starting to feel uncomfortable. And I couldn’t find the phone book.”

Elvis smiled and Becky watched his cheeks twitch above the pout of his mouth, and she couldn’t help it, she led herself into his embrace.

“There now, lil girl, why you go get yourself all worked up like that?”

Becky looked down, blushing trying to just calm herself and feel good about making peace, or whatever it was she was doing. Giving in. No, you are having fun, she told herself. It’s silly to be upset over Linda, and was the use of fighting? This is a short, fun, little fling. Somehow his logic made sense at the same time that it made no sense at all. Becky’s head ached trying to sort it out, she decided that she was tired and exhausted and still a little tipsy, and needed to stop fighting and let herself fall forward into Elvis’ pliant, warm belly. He took a silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit and wiped her eyes, then softly pressed his lips to Becky’s mouth.

 “Mmmm, baby, those are some salty lips.” 

Elvis lifted his hand, thumbing over her lower lip slowly, it made Becky gasp and she watched him respond with a smirk. He leaned in slowly, and Becky shivered when he breathed on her, watching with anticipation as he  licked his own lip and hesitated with a wider smirk before pressing his mouth into hers. More forcefully this time, his hands soothing up her sides. 

“S’alright now, s’alright, no more cryin, ok, lil girl? Too pretty ta cry like this. Goin’ on and making my favorite lips all salty. "

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