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#;No Heaven He Can Show You (Jerry)
wannaeatramyeon · 1 year
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Yo! I'm in love with your writing 😍 I hope you have a nice day
Btw can we get how all of the lookism men (and htf if it okay) would react dating/crushing on reader with big 3? (Huge tits, thick thighs and big ass). Please I'm begging you 😭🙏
lmao. semi-related: lookism hc - boobs, ass, thighs or...? Sorry anon, this is probably a lot less spicy than you were hoping, or maybe I'm too delulu with how gentlemanly some of these idiots are.
Lookism/HTF crushing on 'Big 3'
DGAF
Beauty is fine. But beauty fades and there needs to be something else there. You're never gonna turn their head with just a tight bod. They would notice something like your smile first, your wit and intelligence, your fighting prowess rather than your figure.
Zack Lee: Ride or die, loyal to a tee. Your body is just a tiny part of your overall package. In fact, feel free to lose your corporeal form. It doesn't make a difference to Zack, he will love you all the same.
DG/James Lee: He's one of the hottest, most sought after idols in South Korea. He has seen a lot of bodies. There needs to be something below the surface for his interest and attention to truly take hold.
Gun Park: Ok fine, but what can you actually do with that body? (Heh. Intepret that how you will...) If the body is just for show, then Gun is not going to be impressed. Follow it up with fighting skills and talent then this man is swooning. And also moves into the pure pest category.
Seong Taehoon: Classic friends to lover. As a friend he barely takes note of your figure. He's not blind. He knows you have a great body but this guy is a bit of a romantic, no matter how cringe he thinks that is. He'll be attracted to your personality traits, your loyalty, your kindness. Your body can be whatever. If he's fallen for you, then it's not going to make a huge difference to him.
+ Daniel Park, Jay Hong, Eli Jang, Warren Chae, Sinu Han, Xiaolong, Hudson Ahn, Kwak bros, Jason Yoon, Jerry Kwon, Baek Seongjun, Ji Yeonwoo, Seo Haesu
Doesn't even notice... at first.
"What do you mean 'huge tits, thicc thighs, big ass' on Y/N? Huh?" Once they notice, they cannot stop looking. Tries to go for a sneaky glance all the time. Puts up some pretence of being a gentleman but bro is too weak for the curves.
Jake Kim: Will absolutely notice the way your eyes light up first, how your smile warms his heart. Sure, sure. This man may play it cool(ish), but once he notices your body - it drives him wild. Finds it hard to concentrate with you around. Finds it even harder to concentrate without you around as his imagination runs wild. "Sorry Jerry, can you repeat that?"
Vasco Tabasco/Johan Seong: Thinks they are being subtle with their glances. They are not. Especially if you consider the way their face lights up bright red anytime they check you out. And if you catch them, then you can literally see them shrivel up and die before your eyes in real time.
+Jace Park, Lineman, Brad Lee, Han Wangguk, Kim Munseong
Pure pest
These guys will not keep their hands off you. Public decency be damned. The kind of bastard that will tell others to "GET A ROOM" even if they're the ones being completely inappropriate. Better keep a leash on them if you're not into being an exhibitionist.
Goo Kim: The body is a bonus. Nevertheless, it's a pretty big bonus. You will be spoiled to high heavens with clothing that this pervert likes to see you in. Figure skimming, curve hugging. Assuming you're comfortable with it. Don't be mistaken though, Goo likes seeing you in these clothes but he believes in dressing for yourself as much as for anyone else.
Samuel Seo: the most reserved out of these terrible four. He has appearances to keep up, and cares about propriety... to an extent. But will always keep a hand on your thigh or your ass. A way to claim what is his, if you will. Once he gets you on his own, his hands are roaming.
+Vin Jin, Ryuhei Kuroda
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jhoneybees · 1 month
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70s smut 🙏🏼
Ooo 70s smut! Now I got two requests for this so hopefully this will be alright for both of them, thank you for requesting :)
Honestly, might be my new favourite fic that I have written🥺
Soulmates.
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Characters: Late 70s!Elvis X Reader
Warnings/triggers: Third person pov, use of Y/n, Smut hehehe, fingering, p in v, size kink, swearing(one word), mentions of God and heaven, sweet love making *sniff*🥺, fairy tale beliefs(No one can change my mind, I believe in them☝️)
Tags: @elvisalltheway101 @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a (if you want to be added to my taglist for my fics, feel free to comment!)
Enjoy my lovelies!
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Elvis just feels so lonely.
Lonely and tired of doing two shows every damn day of the week, lonely and sad from the aches and pains he has all over his body and lonely of not having someone that has a similar heart like his.
He wishes that he could have someone to hold him and love him for who he is.
He wishes to maybe meet his soulmate…if they are real, he thinks to himself.
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Knock. Knock. Knock.
Glancing up from the bible in his hand, Elvis stares at the front door of his hotel suite.
Closing his eyes as he sighs, he tosses the bed covers aside. Grunting as he stands himself up by using the nightstand for balance he makes his way to the door. Swinging it open with a bit of force, he groans seeing Jerry and Charlie. “What do ya want?” he asks rudely whilst bringing a hand up to rub his face.
“We brought someone, Boss.” Jerry answers with a nervous look on his face.
Elvis groans again and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why?” his tone, low.
Charlie opens his mouth. “Well we’ve noticed you’ve been-”
“Get to the point.”
“Because we’re worried, Boss.” Jerry cuts in.
The thing is about Jerry and Charlie bringing someone to Elvis, they are both genuinely worried about him, he isn’t just their boss but their friend and not only did they find a random person but a young woman who’s been a fan of his ever since his ‘GI Blues’ days. They know that he feels the most comfortable around women because of their soothing nature but something about this girl they’ve met, they think she’s the perfect match for someone like Elvis.
Elvis lifts his head and looks between the two men, staying quiet with only a slight huff.
“You’re not yourself.” Jerry finishes making Elvis keep his stare on him.
“Where are they?” he asks with a sigh, rubbing his forehead.
Watching as both Jerry and Charlie step to one side, Elvis blinks surprised seeing a pretty girl step forward giving him a shy smile.
“Boss, this is Y/n, Y/n this is Elvis.” Jerry smiles.
“Hi…”
“...Hi” he shakes her hand, hearing the slightest gasp leave her lips and his heart skipping a beat.
“You two have fun.” Charlie says before following Jerry down the hallway, leaving the two alone.
His eyes scan her up and down, slowly. Watching her as she turns her head back to look at him.
Elvis doesn’t know what it is about her but she’s fascinating him.
“...Wanna come in?”
_____________________________________________
Courteously, Y/n sits herself down on his couch. She quietly looks up at him as he switches the room’s light on and walks out for a while before coming back with sunglasses on, giving her a small smile.
Making his way over to sit down near her with a soft grunt.
“They’re worried ‘bout me, huh?” He jokes and chuckles about the men who brought her up to his suite, earning a sweet laugh.
“So uh…yer from Vegas?” he asks after a bit of silence fills the room, absentmindedly wiping his finger under his nose and looking over at the woman. Getting a glimpse of her cheeks growing pink.
“No…” She breathes out with a quiet laugh and fidgets with the hem of her skirt.
“I-I’m from Memphis, just…um… staying here to see some of your shows…” Her words trailing off to almost a whisper.
“You’re a fan?” his voice, surprisingly soft.
She lifts her gaze and nods shyly. “U-Uh big fan.”
Her heart skips a beat at his soft laugh. “Well ‘s nice ta finally meet ya.”
He smiles and she smiles back.
“How long have ya been a fan for?” he asks, to which she shakes her head.
“Oh, ever since GI blues came out…” looking back down at her lap with a shy grin, oblivious to Elvis’ eyes trailing up her legs.
“Do ya…have a favourite song?”
“Don’t really have a favourite…I-I like them all…I enjoy the country, bluesy sort of songs the most...”
Y/n purses her lips and she looks over at Elvis, seeing him nod. “I like ‘em too, my favourite kind of songs.”
The more they talk, the more deep the conversation gets. The two of them don’t know how but they just click straight away and it seems like cupid has shot two arrows into both of their hearts.
The way her eyes soften at Elvis’ smile and the way Elvis’ mouth grows dry from her angelic laugh would show everyone in the whole of Las Vegas that they’ve already fallen deeply in love. It couldn’t possibly be attraction at this point because they have shared their life stories and struggles with each other.
The woman had only met Elvis 4 hours ago.
“C’mere baby, want ya near.” Elvis says and the girl happily obliges.
Quietly shuffling to where he sits, she slides right in next to him as he holds his arm over the back of the couch. She lifts her eyes to look at him, seeing how gorgeous he is up close, with the way his pores decorate his face so beautifully and his cute nose being the perfect shape to bring all his facial features together, her heart beats wickedly at the thought of how soft his lips would feel against hers.
“Somethin’ on my face?” he asks with a chuckle.
Y/n looks into his blue eyes through his sunglasses, her cheeks growing pinker as she nervously laughs. “N-not at all, jus’...”
He removes his shades.
She doesn't know what to say when he’s admiring her like that, with his lashes framing his sultry eyes as they admire her face lovingly and the corner of his mouth curls up.
It’s as if he’s an archaeologist who’s discovered the most dazzling thing he has ever seen in his life.
“...E-Elvis” her voice, soft.
He lifts his gaze and when he locks eyes with her, they both feel their souls are drifting out from one’s parted lips into the other.
They’re so close, combined scents of floral and luxury fill their nostrils. The both of them watch each other’s eyes carefully.
“Y/n…can I…kiss you?”
Just then as the woman gives her consent, they melt at the slightest touch, lips pressing so gently against each other like they’re afraid to hurt the other person. They both close their eyes and Elvis leans himself forward with his other hand moving to rest on the side of her waist with Y/n automatically climbing to straddle his lap.
Cupping his face with her delicate hands, warm tingles shiver up her spine and as Elvis pushes his tongue inside of her mouth, she pushes herself more onto him, wanting to feel every single little touch and she melts even more from his large, firm hands grazing up her thighs going under her minidress. Her breath grows shaky and shallow as he squeezes her ass through her panties.
“Elvis…” She whispers as he pulls away, moving her hands down to rub his chest, the nice silk material under her palms.
“Let’s…Let’s go ta m-my bedroom.” he breathes and she nods willingly.
Pulling on his hand to help him stand up, Y/n’s quick to grab his sunglasses he left discarded on the couch next to him, earning a gentle smile from him. “Thank you, baby.” She smiles back, walking with him through the archway to go into his bedroom, She watches as he switches the light on on the wall.
Her heart pounds in her chest as he pulls her in by the waist and crashes his lips onto hers again with more passion. Sighing contentedly as her arms go to wrap around his neck, following his steps until the back of her calves hit the foot of the bed and she falls backwards, taking Elvis with her making him grunt loudly at the impact and the girl winces at his sunglasses hitting her nose.
“Oh I-I’m sorry, honey.” Elvis worryingly cups her cheek.
Y/n shakes her head and her chest vibrates against his as she laughs. “It’s okay.”
Her hand moves to slide his sunglasses off. “Better if we get these out of the way.” she giggles and pecks his lips. Her smile falters a little when he grimaces and the realisation hits. “O-Oh you want the light turned off, don’t you?”
“No-no ‘s a’right, hon-”
“It’s okay, we can turn it off, I don’t mind.” She reassures quietly and smiles again as his eyes soften and he rolls off from on top of her body.
Y/n pads back to the bed after turning the lights off and steps out of her heels as she looks over the man’s figure, he’s moved to rest his back against the headboard with only the nightlife of Las Vegas shining through the window showing his face. A face that has guilt written all over.
She waltzes over to crawl onto the mattress and sit on his lap again. She doesn't know how she knows what he’s thinking but she just does. “Wouldn’t want ya getting sore eyes…” observing his facial expression carefully.
“Thank you…” he mumbles gently, she can’t help but beam at his sudden gentle demeanour.
“You’re welcome… " Her fingers going up to caress his cheek, a strange urge overcomes her as both of their lips are a few millimetres away. Something she feels like she needs to say. “...It’s the least I can do to…ease the pain.” before she envelops Elvis’ lips in a delicate kiss.
This time it’s his turn to melt.
Elvis moans into her mouth, she starts to roll her hips over his strained pyjama pants and his eyebrows furrow at the mind spinning feeling of her clothed sex rubbing against his and she grazes her fingers up to unbutton his shirt.
He pulls away and breathes hard, careful to stop her hands. “H-Honey…” A wave of insecurity flowing through his brain.
The woman observes his eyes and leans in to kiss him and brush the tips of her fingers over his chest hair. “I know…” She continues to finish undoing his shirt.
Kissing his ear and cheek. “You’re gorgeous.”
Her heart feels like it’s as light as a feather as her hand runs through his soft hair, she sighs through her nose as her lips press onto his once again, body moving from instinct when his palms glide back to her ass. Squeezing it so gently that it sends chills to her pussy, making it throb.
Elvis’ groan rumbles in his throat, sliding his large hand down as she lifts her hips to press her mouth more onto his, his head tips back at the position and he can feel the warmth coming from the place in between her legs.
Hooking his index into her panties and pulling it to the side, he uses his middle finger to drag up her wet slit, smirking against her hearing a soft moan.
His cock twitches at how she mewls from him touching her sensitive clit. He’s massaging it and taking control of her body, her hips rock against his palm.
“God, Elvis…” She lets out, gasping at how his skilled hand slides down to her dripping heat. Her eyes fluttering at his finger swirls around the entrance like a predator circles their prey.
She breathes out a brief smile at his words. “Seems like I know all the tricks, hm?”
A breathy moan rolls off her tongue as he pushes his middle finger inside, pumping it in and out at a steady slow pace. “Ta make ya come undone, so easily.” his voice, deep and raspy. She doesn’t know how he does it so effortlessly. Bringing all these noises she didn’t know she could make out of her from just using one finger.
“Please…” Y/n whispers. She's got no idea why She’s saying please, her mind is so overwhelmed by how he curls his finger, rubbing it against the ridges of her walls.
It’s making her have such an awakening experience and it’s not her first but her gut is telling her this time is different. Very different.
“So wet…” he growls, placing a kiss on her throat as she throws her head back.
“So tight.” dragging his finger out and along her bundle of nerves, he rubs big and slow circles on her hot button.
Lulling her head to look down at Elvis, seeing his eyes shine with passion. “Panties off f’me?”
She whimpers and nods obediently. Moving off of his lap to slip her panties off and toss them off the bed as she lays flat on her back with her legs spread, waiting as Elvis slides his pants off to reveal his hard, bouncing, weeping, red at the tip cock.
Her mouth waters at the thought of how good he would feel so deep inside of her.
“C-Can yer ‘elp, baby?” Elvis shyly asks, snapping her out of her thoughts. She helps him move to kneel between her legs.
“You’re so big…” she utters. Craning her neck up to look down in the middle of both of their bodies to see his dick swinging towards her pussy.
Elvis grins widely, trailing his eyes down her goddess looking figure. “And you’re so beautiful.” guiding the head of his cock to her hole, he inches himself in and the tightness already makes his eyes roll back.
“F*ck…” Y/n sighs.
He gets down onto his forearms, caging her frame underneath him protectively. Shivers slithering up his spine at the feeling of his belly pressing heavily on her stomach. Pushing more of himself inside little by little, groaning out loudly as her walls clench around him and her pornagraphic moans fill his ears.
Keeping his stare fixed onto Y/n’s pretty angelic face and a long breath squeezes out of his throat when he finally fits the rest of his cock in.
Suddenly something clicks.
“Elvis…I…”
“Y-You’re my soulmate.”
They stare into each other’s eyes, flicking from one to the other.
She cups Elvis’ cheeks gently, panting quietly as she thinks and admires his handsome face.
Ever since they were little, they didn’t think those fairy tales were real talking about how they would meet their soulmate one day and right at this moment, they have been proved wrong. So wrong.
“...H-hold on tight.”
Elvis starts to thrust into her slowly. Picking up pace as time goes by and every single second it feels like home, feels like they’re meant for each other.
They’ve found their true love, their love at first sight, their ride and die, their partner in crime, their goddamn soulmate and they have the strongest urge to say those three words that every couple says but something is telling them to keep going before they say it.
They grab onto one another, wanting to feel the closest they could possibly be and take in the sensations, the magic, the love, the truth as they fly up into the clouds. Sucking in an unknown magical essense that falls into the atmosphere and Elvis works the both of them closer and closer and closer and closer to heaven.
Crying out in unison. “I love you.”
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darkbluekies · 2 years
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How would the yanderes react to a accidental kiss, lets say the darling goes to kiss the yanderes cheek only for the yandere to turn their head thinking the darling is gonna tell them something and then it happens accidental kiss.
The poor darling is covering their mouth all flushed and shocked and just says "That was my first kiss." While making direct eye contact with the yandere
Warnings: slight nsfw indication
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Silas:
You’re leaning over while he’s working by his desk. Thinking that you want his attention, he turns his head to you, only to be met by your soft lips bumping into his. His entire body freezes as he tries to process what’s happening. He can feel his brain melting. You quickly tell him in embarrassment that it was your first kiss. Silas breaks out into a smile, how can he be so lucky?
“Oh, it was? I’m honored, but pretty thing, you shouldn’t tempt me. I want to do a whole lot more than just kiss you … be careful from now on before you regret it.”
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Dr Kry:
You often lean over to look at what he’s doing on his desk when he’s not talking to you and this time, you want to give him a kiss on the cheek, but he turns his head to look at you. Feeling your lips against his makes his entire spine shiver and turn to jelly. His head starts to spin and for a second he wonders if he’s made any sounds. He hopes he hasn’t. You tell him that it was your first kiss with wide eyes. Dr Kry would smile with red cheeks. 
“You’re very cute, Y/N. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t take offense to it. Can … can you do it again?”
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King Edmund:
The two of you are sitting in the balcony at the royal theater, in your special assigned seats to get the best view. You’ve been leaning over to whisper to Edmund multiple times throughout the show and decide to kiss his cheek once, as a silent ‘thank you’ for bringing you here. He thinks you’re going to ask who the main character is again, so he turns his head. His brain breaks once he feels your soft lips against his. You shriek and pull back with your hand over your mouth, explaining that you didn’t mean to do that and that it was your first kiss. Edmund smiles cockily and takes your hand. 
“I wouldn’t expect any less, my dear. After all … you’re my sweet little queen. Now kiss me again, show everyone in this theater that you’re mine.”
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Jerry:
She doesn’t know why she turns her head to you when you lean in, but she doesn’t regret it at all. Your lips against hers feel like heaven — something she doesn’t deserve … and that’s why she loves it. You’re forbidden for her. You quickly stutter that it was your first kiss and Jerry smiles, thinking of all the ways she can corrupt you in and bring you down into her harsh and cold world. 
“Oh, don’t worry about it, baby, it won’t be your last one. I’ll have you begging for me sooner or later.”
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Hedwig:
You lean over to give her soft cheek a kiss in the back of the classroom. She thinks that you’re going to ask her for help again and finds herself kissing you. She blinks in disbelief and you apologize in embarrassment, explaining that it was your first kiss and that you didn’t mean for that to happen. A deep shade of red takes over Hedwig’s face and she covers her wide smile with her hand. Her heart is hammering in her chest. 
“D-Don’t worry about it! I-I liked it! Please do it again, I-I need it. Please. I’ll die otherwise.”
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Tags/Warnings: fem!tutor!yn, football player!Bakugou, werewolf!Bakugou, college au, werewolf mates, yn is hit on my a douchebag and bkg punches him <3
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Werewolf!Bakugou who decides he wants to go to college after high school in order to use the football scholarship he earned as the star quarterback.
Werewolf!Bakugou who can’t imagine a life not spent chasing the ball in front of him and mowing down the opposition.
Werewolf!Bakugou who figures out the hard way that chasing the ball requires good grades, actually, and that college is nothing like high school. 
Werewolf!Bakugou who walks into his first tutoring session with you gross, sweaty from practice, and about fifteen minutes late, and you clock three things immediately. 
One, Bakugou Katsuki is in fact a werewolf; you have The Gift just as you mother had, and you can see it, smell it instantly as he walks through the door. In your mind's eye, you see the beast you know he is in an awkward overlay over his human form, and you don't catch whatever excuse he offers for his tardiness because you're distracted by gleaming crimson eyes and the black ring around them that you know not to be eyeliner, but instead simply his natural coloration. 
Two, he's sexy as hell, and that makes you wanna rage-quit your job then and there. You work so hard, and yet the higher-ups always plague you with the hottest students to tutor— you swear they do it on purpose just to dangle what you can never have in front of you like some cruel joke. 
Three— he's looking at you. Not just looking, but looking. You can't meet his eyes any longer, so you roll them to heaven in a silent plea for help. 
"Just sit down and let's get started now," you tell him, willing your hands to steady as you gesture to the computer monitor next to you. "I only have forty-five minutes left in my shift, and judging by your sheet of objectives, we've got a lot of work to do."
He sits next to you, sweaty, earthy, and a bit smelly, and instead of logging in, he stares at you a bit more, heavily sniffs the air, then sneezes, and sniffs again. You squirm, uncomfortable, and he seems to sense this, because he reluctantly turns to the monitor and puts his too-big hands over the keyboard. 
You sigh, and think that this will be a long semester. 
***
The first tutoring session does not go as poorly as Bakugou anticipates— but it does not go as well as it might have, either. He spends most of his time there being redirected by the sweet, funny-smelling little thing they assigned to work with him. He doesn't think you realize that you're what's distracting him, or else you'd stop leaning in so close to show him things he couldn't care less about on this google docs thing or whatever— but he's certainly not going to complain, even if it is a pain to keep his teeth to himself the whole time. You just— you smell like a chew-toy made specifically for him, but he can't figure out why. 
It's maddening. 
Even so, to the relief of his coaches, Bakugou decides to keep showing up, and things get better from there. He gets used to your scent— something earthy, something natural beneath the smell of pencil lead, pen ink, and paper-smell— and he tries not to stare quite so often. Meanwhile, you're ever patient, ever gentle, even when he snaps and growls a bit when you apply more pressure than he'd like while working on assignments he doesn't want to do. You make it easy for him to know things about you; you easily volunteer personal information as a way to build rapport, he thinks. It's… it's nice to get to know you in this way. 
There's just one thing that keeps bothering him. 
"Why don't you ever come to any of my games?" he sulks one day as you comment on your weekend plans— Netflix with Ben and Jerry, whoever the fuck they were. Fuck Ben and Jerry. 
You give him a funny look. 
"And how do you know I don't go?" You ask him, quirking a brow in a way that makes him feel like he's missing something. "There's thousands of people in the stadium when you play— you wouldn't know if I was there or not, now would you?"
"Yes I would," he shoots back immediately, forgetting himself, and then to his chagrin, you challenge him. 
"Oh yeah? How?" you demand, arms crossed with a smirk, and he knows he's been had. 
He couldn't very well say "I could smell you if you were there," now could he? 
"I just would," he grumbled, crossing his arms and sinking lower into his chair. "Still didn't answer my question.'
You look at him with an unreadable expression for a moment, and then you admit,
"You guys get hurt a lot," you said, eyes cast down on your lap. "I used to go, but my heart leaps into my throat every time I see one of you go down— which is all the time, really."
Bakugou immediately regrets his attitude when he remembers his teammate, whose knee was in a couple different pieces currently. Of course you had such a sweet and noble reason for not going. Of course he'd made an ass out of himself about it. 
"Oh," he says, awkward in the face of your revelation, but you reach out and take his hand with a soft smile. 
"It's alright," you say, your skin warm against his. "In fact— if you really want me to go, I'll come out this Saturday and watch you guys play."
Bakugou immediately perks up at that. Some part of him preens at the thought of you in the stands, watching him being better and faster and stronger than every other man under the lights— an irresistible part that makes his teeth itch. 
"You will?" he asks, uncaring of how eager he must appear to you. 
"I will," you smile, and he grins back a little too widely. 
It's not until he leaves the session with you that he realizes that this Saturday is the full moon. 
***
That next Saturday, you don't tailgate or otherwise celebrate. You're a bit nervous, on edge, but also excited— you had forgotten what the collective energy of a fall football crowd had felt like, and now that you're sitting in the stands, watching the game, you remember why you ever even bothered to go. 
Bakugou is stunning; as you watch him, he's fast and strong and clever as he twists in and out and around the other team's defense, unstoppable, a true alpha. Your heart skips a beat as a huge, hulking player almost Bakugou's size moves to tackle him— but Bakugou dances just out of reach and all the other player catches is air, warmed slightly by Bakugou's former presence. You've never seen anything like this. He's incredible, and you curse yourself for not coming to watch him sooner. 
By the end of the game, there's a nervous energy in your chest, a restlessness in your mind; as you wait in line to get down to the field to see Bakugou, part of you wants to shove through the crowd, using your shoulder and sharp elbow to make a way for yourself. Something inside you needs to see him, a deep and desperate urge that you don't quite understand… but once your feet finally touch astroturf, you don't see him, and the world suddenly feels too big, too vast— dizzying. 
You feel a presence at your side, and a shadow falls over you. You look over, and although the player who has approached you isn't quite Bakugou's size, he's still huge, hulking, and you suddenly feel small. 
"Hey pretty thing," the man says, smiling widely in a way that makes guttural fear pulsing sickeningly through you. "You looking for somebody?"
You shake your head, finding yourself both literally and figuratively on the back foot as you back away, but the man closes the distance easily, with a single step forward that equals two and a half of your strides. 
"I think you want to get into the after-party with me," he said, still grinning. "Don't you think you'd look good on my arm?"
The and in my bed goes unspoken, but you hear it anyway, and something wild rises in you— but then something happens faster than you can blink, and the man is suddenly gone. Instead, you see Bakugou's back, his jersey number printed in large font and your school's colors, and his shoulders are heaving with labored breaths.
He'd punched his teammate straight in the mouth. 
You watch on, frozen for a moment as Bakugou tears into the bastard, and then suddenly you find your voice and your feet, and as the full moon peaks out from behind the clouds, you call his name:
"Katsuki!" you scream, and when he turns to you, you see that his eyes are no longer human, but flashing fully wolf in the cold, bright light of the stadium. His teeth, you notice, are unnaturally sharp and white, and he looks now somehow more like beast than man. 
As the other player scrambles to his feet, you lose Bakugou’s attention, and he lunges at his teammate, tackling him to the ground.
I'm that moment, something surges within you; somehow, you feel sure that Bakugou won't stop until his teammate properly submits to him, and you know that no one knows how to actually do that—
Except you. 
Heedless of danger, you step in front of Bakugou, wedge yourself between him and his teammate; you lock eyes with him briefly, enough to catch the attention of brilliant vermillion, then expose your neck, tilting your head to one side as you close your eyes. Immediately, you feel a whiskered cheek rub against yours, accepting the submission with a pleased rumble, and the tension leaves your body entirely. 
"We need to get out of here," you tell him as you look up and catch a glance at the moon. "People probably saw what just happened, and you don't need to be around humans when you—"
At that, Bakugou flinches away. He's suddenly, jarringly apart from you, eyes wide and mouth agape, putting pencil-sharp fangs on display.
"How— how did you—"
His eyebrows scrunch in a heart-wrenching mix of confusion and betrayal, but there is no time to deal with that here and now. 
"Later," you assure him, grabbing one of his hands and pressing it against your neck, once again submitting to his wolf. "Come on, let's go."
Together, you make your way out of the stadium, your hand in his, until you're in a park, surrounded by trees, and far enough away that you're sure not to be bothered by any untimely interruptions. Blessedly, the moon is covered by the foliage of the trees you stand beneath, and you feel certain that Bakugou is relaxed a bit by its absence. 
"Are you alright?" you ask him, and he looks at you like you've grown another head. 
"Am I— you mean to say— uhh—"
He blinks, shakes his head, then tries again. 
"What the fuck just happened?" he asks, this time fully articulate, and you giggle.
"I don't see what's so fucking funny," he huffed, crossing his arms. "Are you insane?"
"No more than you are," you grin, and he frowns at you. 
"How— uh, I mean— why did you—"
You've had enough of watching Bakugou flounder. Slowly, you step forward, exposing your neck once more, and you say,
"It's alright, Katsuki. I have The Gift. I've known what you are since the day I met you."
You look up to meet his eyes, and Bakugou is… less himself. The awkward overlay of his beastly form is back in your vision, and even when you blink a few times, it doesn't go away. The only thing that remains consistent are his eyes— vibrant, blood-red, and alluring. 
"Did you take your wolfsbane?" you ask him, and he grunts in what you assume is the affirmative. It would only make sense that he would because of the game, but with the way he's acting—
"I think the wolf wants to shift anyway," he says, visibly struggling with the words. "I want— I mean, it's— Jesus fuck, woman, stop with the neck thing before I start gnawing on you!"
You stiffen a bit at that, and Bakugou looks like he could shove his foot in his mouth— but then the implication of what he said begins to dawn on you, and you smile. 
"You think of me as pack," you say with a grin. "How cute!"
"N-not pack." He looks at you meaningfully, then. "Not… quite."
You blink. You swallow. 
"Not… pack?"
Bakugou looks miserable.
"No," he affirms. "Not pack."
It was always a possibility, you knew. Your mother had warned you long ago. Your own father had been human, of course, but where The Gift was concerned, one could never be sure. 
"So… like mate?"
Bakugou hunches his shoulders with shame, but nods tentatively. 
"Before, I wasn't sure," he admits, "but now, under the moon…"
He grimaces, and your heart breaks for him. Slowly, you step forward and reclaim his hand with a smile, and he lets you. 
"How close are you to your shift?" you ask gently, rubbing your thumb over the skin of his knuckles. 
"Close," he huffs. "You— you gotta get outta here, you can't be here for when I—"
"I know," you tell him, understanding. 
"Don't— don't run, though." He eyes you up and down, and you swear you can see a wolf-tail swish despite his rueful expression. "I'll want to chase if you run."
An interesting detail— you file it away for later. 
"I won't," you promise, still holding his hand in yours, "but in return, I need you to make a promise to me."
Bakugou growls lightly at that, frustrated, but you lift his hand to your neck, place it there, and it soothes him. 
"Promise me that when you're recovered from your shift, you'll find me," you say. "We need to talk about this properly— and from here on out, I'll need to tell my supervisors that I can't tutor you anymore."
Hurt flashes in Bakugou's eyes, and you can see that he's wounded, but you press his hand more firmly against your neck as you add,
"After all, tutors aren't allowed to date their students— can't give HR a reason to fire me."
A million different emotions flicker in Bakugou's eyes, and the vision of his wolf gets a little stronger— but he takes his hand away, shuddering. 
"Get the hell outta here," he says, looking at you now with eyes that are peeling off your clothes layer by layer, "or else I don't think I'll give you a choice in the matter."
At that, you grin. 
"Is it a deal, then?"
Bakugou grunts. 
"You bet your sweet ass it is. Now fuck off— I'll find you when I'm me again."
It is with a certain thrill of satisfaction that you turn on your heel, leaving Bakugou there in the copse of trees in the center of the park. You know he will do just as he said; you know that he is made for you, and you for him. 
You know you've found your mate. 
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the-monkey-ruler · 1 year
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Just a random ask, what are some weird JTTW adaptations you’ve seen or heard about?
I can’t even begin to call them all but… if you bear with me, I shall try.
Here are a few games that I always found funny additions!
Starting off strong we have Journey to the West: Undersea Adventure (2021)! I have never seen it but LOOK AT IT.... THEY FISH
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Six-eared Monkey (2021) where Six Ears goes back in time, accidentally adopts Wukong not knowing he is his future enemy and gives his life to save Child-Wukong despite knowing who he grows up to be.
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Wukong's Christmas Adventure (2019) is like... saving Ruphdolh or something and Wukong is going through a mid-life crisis and also kinda depressed but CHRISTMAS. Also the Erlang and Nezha models in this movies are TERRIFYING... and also they have Wukong rap so take a look.
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Journey to the West: Conquering the Demons (2013) is weird but like in a GREAT way like... I love the monster designs they give Wukong, Bajie, and Wujing, it is such a different vibe then any other movie I have seen and Honestly LOVE It for that. Really sells just how HUMAN Sanzang is dealing with POWERFUL YAO that could kill him in a second.
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Bling (2016) is strong that it didn't hAVE to be Xiyouji coded characters like the Monkey, Pig, and Frog are robot storage performers, wannabe heroes and they follow their creator who is trying to propose to his girlfriend but there really is not journey or ANY need to have the robot being Wukong, Bajie, and Wujing.
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Spark: A Space Tail (2016) is also BARELY a Xiyouji film but like it does have a monkey with a staff and turns out he is the son of a king and a queen of monkey planet. Really more like Lion King with the evil uncle trying to take over but with space monkeys.... and also Bajie is there.
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Mo mo King (2011) is something I'm not completely sure what's it about but just that it is like a whole monkey island that Wukong-like protag works at... and also Bajie is there.
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Devil's Chip (2002) again NO idea what it is really about but there is space and time travel and for some ungodly reason no wukong from what I have seen but Sanzang and Bajie company the space/time travler
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Flying Monkid (1996) I have no idea why this was ever MADE like there is barely a connection to Wukong and every other demon is new or some kind of version that is barely recognizable, not to mention the animation is barely any better than Pixal art.
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Flying Superboard (1990) I always just found this one strange from the animation to the art style to the design choices. Like making Wukong some kind of skateboard, nunchuck, mouse-looking creature and giving Bajie a machine gun is.... something. I have no idea what they did to Wujing, made him like a bat, goblin thing.
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Midnight Goku (1989) is like a sci-fi detective story where the protag has like computer eyes that can see through people and a bo-staff and honestly, I haven't seen but just the STRETCH they use to make this Wukong-related is so insane like would have never thought of it.
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Little Wukong (1987) honestly not SURE what this story is even about but like... it is nearly lost media, this is so obscure and out of the way I have a feeling it was probs a children's education show or something but idk.
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The Legend of Red Boy (1989) is something that looks like candy land spat out and while I have not seen it I am so sure that it is filled with nonsensical elements I cannot begin to describe.
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King Kong's Adventures in the Heavenly Palace (1959) is... more of a crossover than anything else. Just imagine a movie where instead of Wukong destroys heaven... it is Kind Kong. Legit THE king Kong from the OTHER MOVIES YES.
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Pink Journey to the West (2015) is honestly not that strong I would say besides that it is just Journey to the West but they are all girls... haven't seen it but who knows maybe it is good!
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Tom and Jerry Chase with Tom as Erlang Sheng and Jerry as Wukong
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Fortnite Wukong... that is it
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Overwatch with Xiyouji skins just think it is adorable honestly. Love the Winston as Wukong
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Plants versus Zombie: Journey to the West addition
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Rabbits: Party of Legends
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And while this isn't EVERY weird (there is a lot) one these are that I thought were at least interesting enough. Like a lot of Xiyouji movies have strange plotpoint but honestly, they are more boring and confusing than anything memorable. At least these were the ones I always thought were fun!
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slashingdisneypasta · 2 years
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Horror Villains and: What They Would Put in the Hat
(The 7 Minutes in Heaven hat)
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This was pretty much inspired by This post by @your-mxnd-is-mxne ! ^^
Warnings: Cursing and gore (As in limbs being put in the hat)
Animal the Cannibal: A potato peeler. BE CAREFUL.
Baby Firefly: A cute scrunchie. Put it in your hair!! She thinks you'll look so cute ^^ If you don't have hair/its too short, you can put it in hers! ^^ (So basically you win everything)
Billy Loomis: A folded up poster for the local cinema's horror night. They're playing Psycho, The Birds and then Psycho 2 Back-To-Back.
Bo Sinclair: Little plyers. he never leaves home without them, so you better give them back! Play nice and he may use them on you *cough*
Bubba Sawyer: A pig femur... its not clean...
Candyman: A little leather bound journal with his poetry in it. If he likes you, maybe he'll read you some!!
Captain Spaulding: A pamphlet for his shop! He'd just fucken love to show you around.
Carrie White: A pencil. She wasn't sure and she didn't have a whole lot on her! she hopes that's okay ^^
Chop Top Sawyer: His sunnies! Not his wig, that's special. But you got his glasses! He even wants to see you put them on.
Chucky Lee Ray: He put his whole damn shoe in there. I mean, he's a doll. Why not? // If he's in his human form, though, maybe... a... condom...
BONUS for @your-mxnd-is-mxne because its their idea in the first place ^^ Daddy Hall- *cough* I mean Doc Halloran!: Bullet casing. Its, oddly enough, the only thing that was in his pockets?? 😅 After all he is only here to hunt Leslie- see if you can distract him, though.
Dr Suave: A pack of tooth floss from his pocket. He's a dentist, what do you expect from him?
Drayton Sawyer: The keys to the chilly van (Its all he had on him). He's gonna want them back.
Freddy Krueger: A scrap oh his sweater and it turns to dirty brown dust as soon as you see what it is.
Granny Boone: Buckman's initialed handkerchief.
Harper Alexander: A twig that's been widdled a whole bunch. It may snap in your hand- don't you worry, he don't mind ^^
Inkubus: Ripped piece of paper with a backwards K scribbled into it. You get ink stains on your fingers.
Jack Dante: An action figure! Probably He-Man or something. You can play with it for now but you're gonna give it back when he goes home.
Jason Voorhees: A chunk of moss. Its squishy and fresh.
Jedidiah Sawyer: A tie! He's a well dressed man and always brings an extra XD
Jennifer Check: Cherry Coke Chapstick! You know she's that super cool person who had all the branded soda flavours. And she may even apply some to you~
Jerry Dandridge: His scarf. And its cold- why don't you wear it for a while?~ He's very charming. And this is the man you're gonna get stuck in a closet alone with for nearly 10 minutes! Goodluck-
Leslie Vernon: His mask. He's gotta spread the word!! Make sure people know who he is! This felt like a marketing opportunity.
Lester Sinclair: That grizzly lookin' knife of his. Listen to him chat about it and he'll love you forever.
Luda Mae Hewitt: Wooden spoon. Her logic? If she goes in there with someone iffy she can beat them with it.
Max Grief: Cassette tape out of his car. He wasnt sure what to really put in, so, *shrug*
Mayor Buckman: Boone's initialed handkerchief (Yeahhhh, they're cute like that XD).
Mental Manny: Straw twisted and bent into the shape of some satanic symbol. You feel uncomfortable holding it. But oh, he wants you to have it now~~ A gift.
Michael Myers: Someone's ear.
Mickey Altieri: A snack. Like a cookie from a vending machine or a pack of 2 minute noodles. You can have it, no worries.
Midnight Man: The page with the names on it. ... wanna play a game?
Miss Quinn: Her hand mirror. Come on now, sweetheart!!~ We'll make you look pretty.
Monty Hewitt: A screwdriver. You got anything he can fix up rela quick? He doesn't mind, if it means he can get away from Hoyt for a bit.
Otis B. Driftwood: You don't wanna know. I'm not telling you. Put it down.
Pamela Voorhees: Her drivers licence. She was looking in her wallet and thought it was logical- plus she sure as hell wasn't putting in her polaroid of Jason.
Patrick Bateman: His card, of course. Its so damn crisp- you get a paper cut.
Pennywise: A horn! Honk honk!
Rocco the Clown: Some poor bastard's kneecap. Yes. A kneecap. And I still won't tell you what Otis put in the hat.
Roman Bridger: A very fancy pen. The kind thats like 50 dollars for one. It's for signing contracts but he likes to show off that he has it.
Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt Jr: 'His' sheriff's badge! He wants you to comment on it, too- call him Sheriff Hoyt- stroke his ego. That's all he wants.
Stu Macher: A lollipop! You can have it, he's already sucking one. You two can have matching blue tongues!
Stuart Lloyd: Someone forced him to chuck in the USB that his little movie is on- he's terribly anxious about it and hope that you'll just give it right back and don't play it. Its not done...
DBD! The Clown: A little travel bottle with a suspicious liquid inside. He suggests that you drink it... I suggest you do not. Unless, you know, you're into it-
DBD! The Deathslinger: A wrench. He's a handy man and never leaves the house without his handy wrench!
The Djinn: ... the jewel...
DBD! The Huntress: A bunny ear from a bunny doll. She can do it herself but if you sew it back onto her dolly then you have a friend for life.
The Man (Hush): A switchblade. He's gonna want it back but (; you can keep it while you're in the closet with him if it makes you feel safer.
Taxidermist: Some kind taxidermists tool. Maybe a fleshing cone or a necker knife.
Thomas Hewitt: A pretty rock. 🪨
Vincent Sinclair: A notepad so he can talk to you if you don't know sign language ^^
Winslow Foxworth Coltrane: A crushed can of coke. He doesn't carry shit around with him and he sure as fuck is not handing over his knife.
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Rick and Morty S7 Ep. 9: Mort: Ragnarick
(God is dead and we killed him…and killed him…and killed him)
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Turn away now to avoid the Viking hordes of spoilers ahead
My Favs
Delightfully unhinged…
This is a perfect description of the episode (and this season as a whole)
Somehow this episode combines the afterlife of Norse mythology, Pokémon, Bigfoot becoming an enemy-turned-ally and a showdown with the leader of the Roman Catholic Church into a story that is cohesive and wildly entertaining. Every single screen grab of this episode is one WTF moment after another, probably more so than any other episode to date.
…and sacrilegious
Did I mention that the villain of the episode is the Pope himself? Well it is.
“Fuck you, I’ve been tired”
Gotta love a sassy Morty moment.
Feral Clone Rick
I can imagine the conversation the director had in the recording booth,
“ Hey Ian, we’re going to need you to sound like a rabid squirrel at this moment. No, more rabid. More rabid.”
Plus, I don’t know what comment the writers are saying by implying a feral, animalistic version of Rick can make his way up the hierarchy of the Catholic Church….
Heavy Metal song during the tower defense sequence
Bigfoot being transported into Summer’s clone
Honest moment, I didn’t get why Summer/Bigfoot commented on how small her feet was the first time I watched this episode. I am slow on the uptake.
Poooooooope!
Popey Ball
I love me a corny pun and the fact that Rick had to point out this very corny, very obvious pun was icing on the cake.
Saying goodbye to Bigfoot
It absolutely killed me that they forced Bigfoot, who is just some guy at this point, back into the woods like he some stray animal. So mean!
Not My Fav
I wish we could have explored other afterlives.
When I saw the cold open for this episode I got really excited because I’m a bit of a mythology and religion nerd and I was expecting that this episode was going to be more of a deeper dive into different kinds of afterlives. It was a little bit disappointing that we only visited Valhalla and, very briefly, Jerry’s concrete and fog machine heaven. If I had written or pitched this episode I would have loved to see Rick and Morty hop around to different religions’ afterlives (Greek, Egyptian, Christian, Buddhist,etc.) and use different elements of those afterlives to harness infinite energy and defeat the Pope. Maybe in an early draft they went in that direction and it just got too bogged down and they had to cut back. Or maybe Valhalla is the only afterlife that Rick had a chance of getting into. He sure isn’t getting into Christian heaven after this episode.
My Thoughts
The concept of an afterlife is a bit tricky to develop in a show where one of your main characters is a staunch atheist and there is a scientific and naturalistic explanation for everything, including things that are traditionally associated with the supernatural, i.e. the afterlife. Of course, the explanation is nothing but science fiction mumbo-jumbo, that is said rapidly and moved on quickly, less we dwell on the nonsense too long. Nevertheless, I prefer the attempt to create consistency in the show's philosophy rather than have the writers throwing their hands in the air and conceding to the existence of the supernatural. Curious observation, we never see any deities in Valhalla and the Valhallans haven’t either since Rick is able to convince them that he’s Odin. Feral Rick being hung on a crucifix didn’t escape my attention either. It’s a running joke that Rick’s a god but maybe it’s not a joke after all…
This seems like a standalone episode but there has been a trend since season 4 or season 5 to have the penultimate episode connect with the finale, so I’m interested to see if this trend will continue. I don’t buy that Rick wants to tap into the afterlife just for the wealthy of infinite energy. Do you?
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linklewinklewoman · 10 months
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List of characters
Linkle: The main girl, lesbian coded, and a sincere gal who wants to help people above all. A cucco farmer who likes to go exploring.
Rogard: Linkle's favorite cucco and best friend. Described as "Ornery". Might be all powerful or just weird.
Elmyra: Linkle's formerly dead granny. The poros at @snugglyporos "found" her. We don't question it. Has been basically everywhere in Hyrule. Very well travelled. Intimidating to most.
Mina: Rogard's grandmother who didn't exist til the poros "found" her. Don't ask questions. Is very forgetful, but a sweet granny personality. For a cucco.
Dark Linkle: A demon creation originally made to torment and kill Linkle. Gave the middle finger to her purpose, killed her creator, and breeds chaos wherever she goes for fun.
Terrence: A tonberry that really likes Linkle. He behaves for her. For now.
Archeops: Linkle's first pokemon and a partner in her adventures. Not great at flying, but has shown great problem solving skills and bravery.
Mudsdale: Linkle's second pokemon, a perfect strong horse. Wants to make Linkle proud and likes showing off to others. Can shatter boulders to small pieces.
Onix: A gentle giant who found Linkle in caves and adopted her. Is very nice and protects others. He does his best.
Combee: @snugglyporos made me do it. A pokemon who speaks in bee puns. Damn it Jerry. He sees Linkle as a weird Vespiqueen.
Male Linkle: The true evil version of Linkle made on April Fools' day. Do you think God stays in heaven because he too fears his creations?
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What a Man - A Manny/Reader One Shot Story.
You meet Manny in a bar... and promptly take him home for some filthy fun! Focuses on the dynamic of a younger man/older woman age gap, as there are so many younger woman/older man fics out there, I thought I would mix it up a little. Can be enjoyed by whatever age, though (18+ of course!) because it’s smut, and we all love that, but yeah, I wanted any 40+ readers to feel specifically catered to, for once! 
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Words - 4,571
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
“Triple Jack, no ice.”
Christ. It sounds like the guy who just took a seat beside you at the bar has had a similarly bad day to you.  
You see his ring adorned hand from the corner of your eye, long, tapered fingers clutching the glass, sinking it back. “Another.”
The bartender dutifully fulfils the request. “Another.”
“Might as well put a straw in the damned bottle,” you mutter, but not quite under your breath as much as you might’ve hoped.
“I would, but Logan here frowns upon that.” Turning your head to the side, you do a rapid double take. Good grief. That is one hell of a tall drink of water. “Evening, mamacita.” His eyes give you a quick up and down, smiling widely, turning back to his drink. He then looks at you again, his face a picture of curiosity. “What the fuck is a fine assed lady like you doing sitting in this dank shit hole alone? Or am I about to get my shit rocked for taking an interest in some dude’s ole’ lady?”
He makes reference to receiving trouble, but turning to look at him, you aren’t left in any doubt that he could more than handle himself in a fight. Bikers know how to ruck. Outlaws – of which he is from the kutte – even more so.  
You take a breath through your nose, sinking the rest of your drink. “You seem like a real charmer, but I’m not in the mood for it.”  
His reply is quick. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Being left alone while I make my way through that bottle of Sailor Jerry.”
His eyebrow arches, a wide smile showing a mouth of perfect, white teeth. “Well, alright, baby. You don’t gotta be all mad about it.” he pauses then, sipping his drink. “Just know I’ll be sitting here, not able to get those thighs out of my damned mind. Ignore me, it’s cool.”
‘You’ve put on weight; I don’t like it. Go on a diet, for heaven’s sake.’
There they are, his words, echoing through your head again, the words of the man that up until that afternoon, you’d been married to for twelve years. Until he left you for a younger woman. A younger, slenderer woman. You are by no means fat, your stomach has remained flat, your arms are toned, but you definitely carry a little more weight upon your thighs, some more junk in your trunk, too.  
Curvy is en vogue right now, but your ex? He wanted a toothpick with breast implants. Bad ones. And usually, you would never shame a woman for the kind of figure she has, or how she chooses to enhance it, but, well, you’re forty-five and feeling a tad bitter. She’s twenty-one, and living in your old house with the man who promised to love and remain faithful to you forever.  
And now here you are, alone, in a dive bar, ‘celebrating’ your divorce being finalised as of five hours ago. It’s more drowning your sorrows; the simple truth of the situation is not lost on you. You did not intend to become a divorcee. What is lost on you, however, what you cannot even see, is just how attractive you still are, or how much the outlaw - who you might notice is at least ten years younger than you, if you were paying attention - cannot keep his eyes off of you.  
“Thick thighs save lives.”  
You can’t fight the upturn at the corners of your mouth. He’s persistent, you’ll give him that.
“Is yours in need of saving, especially?”
He snorts softly, cocking his head a little. “Depends on who I piss off.”  
You can imagine, in his chosen career field. “I envisage it takes more than thick thighs.”
“Likely,” he confesses, “but after a long, hard day, they sure are nice to have wrapped around me.”
Oh yeah. He’s smooth as hell. And he knows it.  
“Mine aren’t on offer for said wrapping.”
He hisses a breath, turning to you more fully. “That’s a damned shame, querida. Because I assure you, you’d very much enjoy me being between ‘em.”
You glance around the bar, seeing two groups of women who you have at least fifteen years in age on, if not more, looking back at the outlaw with the deep, chocolate brown eyes. “Why don’t you try your luck with a girl a little closer to your age?”
“Because I don’t want to.” Simple, concise. You can’t fault that. “I tire of girls. I want me a woman. There’s only one in here who I find attractive, so I sat myself down next to her. She ain’t biting at my bait, though. Damn you, making a fella doubt his game.” He shakes his head, sinking the bourbon, placing the glass down. “You want another in there?”
You have to mentally stop here, and promptly slap yourself. The most gorgeous man in here is working his damned ass off in order to flirt with you... and you keep knocking him back. Are you really so turned into such a hardened man hater, that you can’t even accept that one might, just might, find you attractive?  
“That’d be great, thank you...” you trail off.  
“Manny.” He offers his hand forward. You reveal your name, shaking it, a little ripple turning your tummy over pleasantly when he winks at you, so rapidly that you’re unsure if he actually did. He then calls Logan back over, the bartender dutifully refilling both glasses with your chosen poison.
“Thank you, Manny. Cheers.” You touch your glass against his, smiling as you sip your rum, turning and taking him in properly. Yes, he most definitely is the most handsome man in the bar. You truly should let it be the little shot in your arm you likely need to just unquestionably enjoy.  
“So, why are you attempting to see yourself to the bottom of the rum bottle, then? You having a time of it, or aspiring to follow in the footsteps of Jack Sparrow?” Charming, gorgeous, flirty, and he’s funny too. You could do a hell of a lot worse. You could still be stuck with your philandering husband, as well as his bald spot/beer gut combo. Yikes. And he told you to go on a diet. The audacity.
“Both?” He laughs, shaking his head. “My divorce was finalised this afternoon, so I decided to take myself out to celebrate. Except it turned into a lament that I’m forty-five with a failed marriage behind me.”
He raises his eyebrows, glass paused on its way to his mouth. “You’re forty-five?”  
“I suppose you find that a turn off,” you scoff lightly.  
“Nope, I just put you at around thirty is all. I ain’t flattering either, for real, girl. Damn, you look good. I’m thirty-five and I have more smile lines than you do. As for the failed marriage, better off if he didn’t make you happy.”
“Nah,” you shrug, taking a swig of your drink. “He’s reserving that for the twenty-one year old with the square, plastic tits he cheated on me with.”  
“Oh, man. Ain’t nothing worse than a bad boob job,” he grimaces, shaking his head. “My ex had hers done and they never looked or felt right. Made her sick too, so she took ‘em out in the end. I never wanted her to get ‘em done in the first place, but eh, it made her happy. Until it didn’t. Jokes on your ex, though. Because at the risk of getting slapped, I gotta say, yours are gorgeous. In fact, all of you is damned gorgeous. He’s out of his fucking mind, playing away from all of that.”  
“Yeah,” you accede, feeling confident. “He fucking is. He wanted skinny, though, and that’s not me.”  
“Skinny chicks, eh,” he pauses, sucking his teeth. “While I ain’t got nothing against ‘em, they’re a dime a dozen. Seeing a woman built like you, that’s what excites the shit out of me. I like what you have going on very much, mamas.” His eyes tour you again, a faint ‘Mmm’ noise echoing his throat as he licks his lips, his right eyebrow fluttering.
“That’s nice to hear, I guess.” You have to give him a little more, he’s working his butt off, and you see that clearly.  
“It sounds like it’s about time you had someone tell you.” He pauses, biting his bottom lip, letting it slide out from his teeth. What it is about that action, you aren’t sure, but it made your insides throb. “If you were mine, I’d never let you out of bed. My free time hobbies would solely focus on making you damned happy with my tongue.” Such a statement makes you blow your drink back into the glass, Manny laughing into his, knocking back the rest. “Logan!”  
The bartender ambles over, pouring him another measure. “Sorry if that was too much, by the way. I kinda lose my filter, the more of this stuff I drink. Also, after a little initial frostiness, I sense I’m getting you to thaw.”  
You lean forward a little, catching his scent. Oh, boy. That’s one very nicely scented man, spicy and woody, with a hint of leather. “So... just your tongue?”
His smile widens, turning into a full-blown grin. “Take me home, and you get to find out.”  
You drop your head for a moment, considering your options. Two fingers then lift your chin, Manny staring at you intently.  
“You won’t regret it. And if you do, I won’t leave your bed until you don’t.”  
That’s the best offer you’ve gotten since your divorce lawyer gave you five free billable hours.  
“Drink up.” You both slam back the contents of your glasses, heading outside, taking your phone out and calling an Uber.  
“How long?” he asks, nodding at your phone upon noticing the app.  
“Four minutes.”
“Ahh,” he takes your face in your hands, leaning closer to you. “Enough time to enjoy this, then.” His mouth descends, lips capturing yours in a kiss, both of sugar and embers. It deepens in a nanosecond, his arms wrapping around you, yours draping around his neck. Oh, god. Ohhhh... can the man kiss. Slow, sensual, passionate. Fuck. It makes a warm, rich wave of longing wash right through you, so much so that you don’t even notice the Uber pulling up until the driver opens the window and calls your name.  
The ride back is spent in much the same way, fused at the mouth, keening gently for one another. Once you arrive at your home, though, it isn’t quite as PG.  
“Fuck, you are so goddamned beautiful.” he moans, pressing you against the hallway wall, his hands pulling at your top, tugging it over your head, fingers trailing down your neck to grasp at your tits. He then ducks, lifting you over his shoulder with ease, his hand pounding off your butt, making you scream with laughter. “God, I’m gonna fucking wreck you. Which way to the bedroom?”  
“Down the hall, second on the right.” You’re carried there quickly, thrown down on your bed, reaching to turn the lamp on... and then swiftly regretting it when you see him shake off his kutte and undo his shirt, revealing the lithe, athletic body beneath, all tattoos, smooth chest and lean muscles. And he’s ten years younger than you. That’s when the gravitas of it hits you.  
“You looked spooked. I’m not that bad, am I?” he smirks, moving to pull your legs straight again from where you’ve drawn them up a little, feeling self-conscious, trying to hide a bit.
“No, no it isn’t you,” you begin, sighing. Oh yeah, this is so sexy, having a panic with a one-night stand, one who looks as utterly magnificent as him.  
He reads it well, shaking his head, getting back up off the bed. “Baby, we don’t have a problem here.” He keeps eye contact with you firmly, stripping off his jeans, kicking his boots and socks off, his tight, grey boxers the last item to be shed, standing there and gesturing to what can only be described as a very hard, very beautiful cock. “This should tell you how lacking in a problem we are right now.”
He crawls back onto the bed, hands parting your knees, kissing you heatedly as he begins to unfasten your jeans. “Let me see this sexy body.” By the time his kisses have reached the side of your neck, your legs feel like jelly, your body malleable to him entirely. Just from neck kisses. You’ve never had a man arouse quite so thoroughly, but with such little effort, yet you know from the way his mouth tours your skin, effort is exactly what you’re going to get with him.  
Tugging your jeans down, he pauses at your underwear, leaving them on as his body settles against you, and that right there is a gesture that hasn’t gone unnoticed. He wants to see you nude, but he also knows that you’re a tad uncomfortable. He knows there’s still a little thaw left, a little winter remaining within you that the flush of spring he rains upon you with careful caresses, kisses and tongue swirls will eventually melt away.  
Pleasant mists of heat trickle down your spine as his hands bracket your waist, his tongue fluttering over your collarbones, hands moving to begin stroking your breasts. Your nipples rise to his fingertips, your own hands smoothing up his arms and down his back, feeling the lithe muscles cording beneath your touch. His skin is utterly beautiful, a soft blanket of caramel brown covering you, juddering when your nails trail up his spine, his hips shunting against you. Hmm, he liked that.
“Did that feel good?” you whisper, stroking his short beard, steering his mouth back to yours, receiving decadent kisses full of need.
“Yeah. Pretty much my entire back is a hot spot.” Right on cue, he judders again, a soft moan pooling in his throat as your nails drag his shoulder blades. “Damn.”
“Mmm, noted.” He kisses you again, tongue circling in a slow swirl with yours, that coupled with him shifting, his cock brushing your hip has you keening against him, body arching to his, Manny reading your responses perfectly as his hand creeps beneath your back, flicking your bra undone with the kind of finesse you do not doubt for a second he possesses. Pulling it from you, he makes a low, quiet rumble of appreciation, mouth closing over your nipple and sucking, the action causing heat begin winding through your core.  
“God damn, these are some quality tits, mamas.” His compliment makes you snicker a little bit, Manny glad to see you more relaxed. “What?” he chuckles, turning his focus to the other, tongue circling the stiffened peak.
You shake your head softly, still rippled by amusement. “I’ve never heard them referred to as quality tits before.”
“Ain’t you? Well, get used to it.” After he’s given thorough attention to your chest, he begins to shift, a little pool of excitement overflowing within you, because if he kisses and licks the rest of you like that, just what on earth is it going to feel like when his mouth is... oh, just where his fingers brushed against. He grunts lustfully at feeling the dampness of your underwear, a little bite placed upon your hip, hands tugging at the satin covering where his mouth begs to lead him to, pulling your undies off, parting your thighs and wasting no time in tease, his lips lowering to your centre and kissing your folds before his tongue laves through them.  
“Mmmmm, oh my fucking god,” he moans, laying another few licks against you, mouth moving to sprinkle kisses over your pubic mound. “Y’all need to expect me to be down here for so long, you forget what I look like. Damn, that’s one sweet little pussy.”  
Just twenty minutes or so in a bed with Manny, and you feel more attended to than you ever did in the entirety of your marriage. That truly does speak volumes. There he is, a man ten years your junior, with all the skill and care for a woman’s body that dictates he’s a giver, someone who pays attention, who thrives on showing a woman exactly what he’s capable of, painting a picture of passion across the canvas of her body, and doing so in a way so masterful, you can barely form thought.  
He kisses your inner thigh a few times, thumb gilding your clit with strokes that evoke pure sunshine, pushing the hood back and making it stand out before his tongue takes over, soft flickers back and forth having you reeling, the pressure gentle, his eyes watching you as he smiles. “That feel good, mamas?”
“Ohhhhh!”  
He chuckles, kissing your bud softly, the heat of his lips searing. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He’s right to, as well, for the pleasure conjured by the simple, soft beating of his tongue has light beaming through you, your walls fluttering, each lick sending tingles skittering down your spine. When he presses his tongue flat against you and drags right through your folds, your back arches, body bent like a bridge over a torridly flowing stream, Manny the water that rushes beneath you. “So fucking wet.” he mumbles, taking another greedy lick at you, mouth closing in a suck as his cheeks hollow, his mouth full of the softest, wet velvet.  
His eyes close, his stupidly long, beautiful lashes casting shadows beneath his eyes, like the feathers of a crow wing, a few more long licks given before once again, the tip of his tongue focuses in on your clit, licking the tiniest of circles all around it. He moves it around, little by little, your body suddenly shuddering violently.  
“Hmm, right there is pretty good, huh?”  
“Yeah, yeah that’s amazing!”
“That’s where I’m staying, then.” This man. He’s so good that not only does he know how a clit works, and how to touch it, but he finds out exactly where he should focus upon it, wants to know where the biggest concentration of nerve endings is upon the little bud, and then targets them. That’s dedication you can get behind, and find utterly mind blowing. He has you out of your head with ecstasy, his tongue beating back and forth, circling, then back and forth once more, lips sucking, and then repeating it all over again, and again... and, oh... again.  
“Come on, baby. Damn, I really want you to cum for me, get my tongue even wetter, fuck.” he encourages you with, voice deepened with lust, each lick now placed firmer, driving your release, like a spirit being exorcised as you pant and tremble, crying out helplessly, your hands clutching his head as he brings you to you peak, crumbling for him like an ancient tower as your release fizzes through you, leaving you breathless. “How was that, gorgeous?”
“Can’t talk... ruined...” He bursts out laughing, a deep, rumbling laugh full of mirth.  
“Not yet, you ain’t.” He emerges to kiss you, and you taste sweet on his lips, shifting back down again and gripping your thighs. “Hold these sexy assed legs up for me.” You hook your arms beneath your knees, pulling them back to your chest, Manny groaning at the view presented to him. “God fucking damn, that’s a beautiful sight.”  
He takes a long lick at you, your clit still sensitive, making you quake when his tongue skims it, Manny realising this and gentling a little, moving his focus to gently push inside of you, tasting your pussy on the inside, moaning as his tongue bobs in and out, moving it down, circling your puckered star, your legs trembling in response. No one has ever done that before, and after a few moments, it seems he cottons on to that fact, too.  
“What’s the matter, querida? Never had a horny Latino dude lick your asshole before?” He grins up at you, laying a soft bite to your butt cheek, chuckling with amusement.  
“Nope!”  
“Alright, I won’t stop, then.” he doesn’t, circling you, pushing within, thumb moving to stroke at your clit, your body feeling like you have entire galaxies burning and collapsing in on themselves within you, your entire sex burning with the continued divinity of what his mouth lavishes upon it. Moving his focus back to your clit, he sucks on it gently, moving his hand to push one, and then two fingers into your soaking heat.”Fuck, that’s so damned hot.” he exclaims quietly, moaning around you, eyes finding yours again, watching as he begins to trawl you, dragging your plush, fingers curling, pushing right against your g spot. “There?”
“Yes, right fucking there!” you wail, the circle he draws inside you burning you right to your bones. That, coupled with the licks he lays over your clit have you gleaming once more, body undulating, your hips purling against his face, Manny groaning as he feels you clench around his fingers, giving you more, sliding a third in and raking your walls, fucking you with them until the lewd sound of him cutting through your slick fills the room, along with your cries as he sends a sweltering flush of pleasure coiling through you, that coil snapping as you cum for him again, breathless and lost in the haze of your orgasm. “Fuck, I want your cock so badly!”  
He grins, fingers gentling, kneeling before you, grasping his hardness and rubbing it through your folds. “Yeah, this big dick what you want, baby? Want me to fill you up and stretch you out?”  
“Yes, oh god, so much!” you grit, the feel of him, the rigidity of him sliding over your folds and nudging your clit making your cunt throb.  
“Can I bareback you? I fucking swear, I don’t got nothing funky you can catch, carina,” he states, lust blown eyes fixing on you, giving you a look that despite your usually better judgement, tells you loud and clear he isn’t lying. You nod, and in one fluid push, he fills you up, the heat of his bare cock within you scintillating, sending a storm of hail through your core. His mouth falls open, an almost helpless moan echoing from his throat, and you can feel the rigidity of him twitching within the snug clutch he’s buried in, parting your knees and leaning down to kiss you, hands sliding through your hair as his cock begins to pump into the silky slick of you.  
You wrap your legs around him, squeezing your thighs at his waist, groans tumbling from him as he arrows you a little deeper, tilting his hips in a way that has him filling you, but not hitting your cervix. God, the man knows how to lay pipe, leaving a trail of lusty kisses across your throat, sitting back on his heels and spreading your thighs, watching his cock entering and retreating from you.  
“Shit, mamas. You take me so damned well. Ahhh, fuck!” he grits, groaning deep, adding more speed, losing himself to it and beginning to pound into you, evoking your wails, hands clutching at your thighs as he fucks you deep and rough, slowing again, grasping that tentative composure, giving you slower strokes, pulling out, rubbing the head of his cock all over your hard little clit until it throbs against the weeping slit of his hardness, plunging back into you again with a barbarous grunt.  
He alternates between unfettered vigour and slow, sensual trawling, pausing every so often to lean in and kiss you, his whispered words making butterflies erupt through you. “Do you feel beautiful yet, baby? Because you should.”  
Because of him, you do. Anything your ex told you, about how you weren’t good enough for him, it’s being washed away on the current that is the man inside of you, Manny grasping your waist and hauling you up to begin bouncing you on his cock, mouth stealing hungry kisses full of need from you, strong arms holding you steady as you begin to ride him in a rhythm that has lightning darting up his spine. When you begin trawling your nails over his back, you increase that for him tenfold.  
His skin erupts into goosepimples, his mouth kissing constellations across your neck as you grind down on his cock, the pressure perfect, but every bit of this tryst having you greedy for more, for as much as he can give. And give to you he does. Grasping your waist, he levers his hips beneath you, driving up into the sodden mess of your cunt with aggressive thrusts, meeting you in perfect sync, your mutual moans filling the room as your flesh smacks together.  
“Oh god, fuck me!” you holler, Manny taking his instruction and giving you every last inch in rapid thrusts, slowing suddenly, levering you off of him.  
“On your hands and knees, carina. I wanna watch this gorgeous, round ass bounce while I pound that sweet pussy.” His words set a further blaze through you as you move into the position he requested, feeling him behind you, cock stroking your folds before he daggers into you again, doing exactly as he said he would and pounding the life out of you.
It’s gut rearranging, skin smacking, nerve tingling, all out carnal brutality, your cries rasping your throat as you grip the covers, his hands fixed in a hard clutch on your butt, kneading the cheeks as he pistons into you furiously. You can feel it again, the light from the edges of heaven warming you as he sends you closer and closer, your walls tightening on him as the swell of nirvana throbs through you, each clench milking him of his release as he grunts furiously, thick ropes of cum shot deep into your fluttering heat.  
He continues to move slowly within you, breath hot at your back, lips leaving a trail of kisses down your spine. Your divorce left you feeling pretty much dead, but the handsome, relative stranger you picked up in that bar, well, he truly did make you feel alive again. He makes you feel alive another five times that night, too, and at your door the following morning, makes it very clear he keeps on intending to as well.  
“I’ll call you later, when I’ve slept longer than two hours. Damned insatiable woman,” he chuckles, kissing you softly.  
“Alright, and thanks for last night.” He knows from your tone that you don’t believe him, but later that evening, when you’re out with your friends, not waiting around for a call you don’t expect to come, your phone rings.  
“Hey, so I’m looking for this gorgeous woman, yeah, I think she can help me with something.” Your smile widens in an instant.
“Oh yeah? Word is, she helped you with enough last night,” you reply playfully, waving your hand when your girlfriends begin squeaking. Of course, they received the 411 on it all. It made for some juicy pre-dinner drinks fodder.
“Well, yeah, this much is true,” he begins, grinning at the memory. “But I still didn’t get between her sexy, thick assed thighs quite as much as I wanted to.”
Four hours later, after a cab has dropped you to his place, that’s exactly where he returns.  
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enchantinglyjade · 2 years
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Milk & Honey - Ch. 23
Austin!Elvis x Black!OC
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Summary: Elvis is trying to come to terms with Honey dating again. Honey isn't too fond of it herself
Warning: NSFW 18+ mild sexual activity, dirty talk, swearing, flirting
Song: Do You Love Me - The Contours
Playlist
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-Elvis POV-
God damn, this woman is driving me crazy. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I see her everywhere, in everything. I can’t go one minute without thinkin of her and that blonde curly hair. Being near her felt like a little glimpse of heaven, even when she’s mad at me. I’d do sinful things to get a taste of that sweetness, especially if it meant escaping this hell for even a second.
I shake her from my thoughts. Gotta knock this shit off, I got a show comin up soon. Can’t be caught distracted now
I stand in front of the mirror while brushing my teeth. As I bend down to spit, I feel a small arm snake around my waist. Marcella reaches her head around my arm to peek at me through the mirror. “My mom’s wondering when we’re gonna be bringing some grandbabies over to visit her.” She whispers, as she begins to untie my robe.
I rinse the toothbrush off, throwing it over onto a nearby towel. “‘Cella, I just got Charles, can we slow down a sec.” I reply calmly, but feel irritated just looking at her.
She huffs, pulling away to put her hands on her hips. “We’ve been married for how long now, Elvis? You have barely made love to me since the day you put this ring on my finger.” She holds up her hand as if I’d need help realizing which ring she was talkin bout.
I clench my jaw, storming out the bathroom. “I told you, I just ain’t really that type.”
She scoffs, following close behind me. “‘Ain’t that type’? Ain’t that something. It’s cause of her! I’m not as stupid as you think I am.” I sit down on the edge of the bed, rubbing my temple with my hand. Everytime this woman speaks I get a headache. “My father already hasn’t taken the news lightly, so I suggest you finally move on from her to not further upset him.” She crosses her arms, stomping towards the door. I raise my head, just as she opens it. She looks back at me over her shoulder, taking a deep exhale before she speaks. “Look, I’m willing to forget about all this, but I did see a little blue shirt in the window of the boutique downstairs, if you wanna make it up to me. It’s the least you can do after everything.” And with that, she slams the door shut.
Lord, how’d I get myself into this mess.
Later in the day, I get the boys over to talk production, Charles in my bedroom watching TV since I apparently had to watch him for Honey’s…evening talk with an old friend. Things go fine, until I leave the room to grab a cola. On my way back from the fridge, I overhear their conversation.
“Damn she sure is a fine woman though.”
“She’s E.P.’s baby mama if you wanna get in between that.”
“You bet I don’t.”
“The hell you two talkin bout?” The boys go quiet, turning around to look at me, watching as I sit down at the desk in the living room scattered with papers and letters. I scoff at their hesitant faces. “She’s more than just a baby mama.”
“Really? And what would that be?”
I gulp down some of my drink, setting it down frustratedly with a loud clunk. “A good friend.”
“You hear that? She’s a ‘good friend’.”
“Oh, I ain’t got no doubts.”
The boys go back and forth, laughing and clearly having no fear of testing my patience today. “Alright, now all’a’ya put a sock in it, and keep her outta your thoughts ‘fore I have to leave a handprint across your faces.” I glare at each of them in the room, but they only snicker at my attempt to warn them.
Jerry dares to speak up. “Elvis, I’ve known you for years and you never mentioned a- what do you call her? Bumble?” He asks over the edge of his glasses.
“Cause I don’t want to. Now, I need you to go to those shops downstairs and buy a blue shirt in the window.” I say, steering the conversation away from her.
He raises an eyebrow. “Just…a blue shirt? What shirt?”
I rest my elbows on the desk, rubbing my temples roughly. “I don’t know, man. Any fuckin blue shirt you see down there.”
He thinks for a moment, before reluctantly standing from his chair and sliding out the door, following the orders I gave him. Now that that conversation is over, let’s move on to some real business-
“Billy, you said you knew her before right? You got any beans to spill on the whole situation?” Red questions.
I clench my jaw, throwing my head over the back of my chair in annoyance.
“Yeah, he was crazy bout her back in the day. Them two was always sneakin ‘round the cops. He’d even go dancing with her.” He snorts out a laugh until he makes eye contact with me, then his face drops. “Sorry, cous’.”
“See, how come we never heard this?” Joe asks.
“Ain’t easy to talk about.” I respond quietly. “Now can we move on from this topic?”
There’s a knock on the door.
George stands since he’s the closest to the entrance. “Yeah, come on guys. Gotta keep quiet before one of Elvis’ girls shows up.” He taunts with a laugh.
My knuckles turn white, gripping the bottle in my hand. “Girl. I have one.” I demand.
He only chuckles, opening the door to reveal Thomas standing behind it. “Hey, E.P.!” He greets, casually stepping in. He’d been stopping by for the past few days. Ran into him while I was out bringing Marcella shopping down the strip. We had already gotten pretty familiar with each other again before Honey reunited with him. Now I don’t even wanna look at him, just Michael all over again. “I was just wondering if you knew where Honey’s suite was. Supposed to be takin her out, you know.”
The boys amusedly turn to watch my reaction to this. I ain’t gonna give them the satisfaction of blowin up, or actin jealous, or anything childish like that. I have Marcella, and they know that. Ain’t nothin going on between Honey and I. If she wants to date, then-
I guess-
Damnit, it ain’t important right now!
“You know Honey too?” Billy buds in.
Please, Billy. Now ain’t the damn time.
But Thomas smiles at his question. “Yeah! We grew up together, Me, E.P., Honey, and Michael. We all lived in the same town, doin our best to impress her. E.P. and Michael was always fightin over her every time they got the chance. We all had a little crush on her, but I wasn’t bout to get in between them two. Whoo! They was bad.” He chuckles, pointing over towards me. “Glad that’s over.”
I scoff with a smile. “Easy to like the only girl in the whole town.” I add, downplaying incredibly.
Just then, the door knob spins, metal creaking as it opens. Little blonde curls peak through. Honey apologetically smiles as she opens the door further to reveal the rest of her. She has on a red dress, fitting tightly over her body, just like the ones I used to buy for her. Her hair is up, some curls falling over her exposed collarbone and breasts.
The boys laugh at my joke from before, but everyone’s smile disappears upon seeing her. My God, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“You sure that was the only reason?” My head snaps back over to Thomas, who’s biting his lip  looking at the exact areas of her body I was. 
“What they got growin in Tupelo?” Sonny whispers with his jaw on the floor.
I could slap each one of ‘em silly right about now.
Her heels clank on the marble floors as she walks over to Thomas. “Sorry if I’m interrupting anything.” She says sweetly.
Thomas stands pathetically quickly. “No, not at all. I was just looking for you actually.”
I can’t watch this no more.
-Honey’s POV-
“So, what are you doin out here with E.P. then? You his stage manager or somethin?”
I chuckle, following beside Thomas as we walk down the strip. “No, no. Just visiting. I used to be a singer too actually.”
His eyes widen. “Really?” He says with a big smile. “I’d love to hear you sing sometime.”
I force out a nervous laugh. “Oh, no. I don’t do that no more. Haven’t in a long time.”
He smacks his lips. “Tsk, don’t be that way. Once a singer, always a singer. You know what,” He stops in his place to face me. “I saw the perfect place the other day for you to sing for me.”
I cross my arms with a grin, anxiously excited by his offer. “Oh, I’m singin for you now?” I raise a brow.
He smirks at me. “Yeah, I wanna see what you got.” He tilts his head to the side. “Come on. Let’s go.” He offers his arm out to me and I gladly take it, following in the direction of whatever place he has on his mind.
We arrive at a club filled with song, drink clanking, and chattering. It’s very casual in its looks, yet somehow still refined and skilled, like its inhabitants are laid back with their excellence. I recognize tunes like these, the clothes they wear, the gently calloused fingers. These are actual musicians. 
A few customers turn to watch us enter, eyeing my dress as we walk by. I cross my arms around my body, feeling inexperienced and overdressed, as though I was trying to excel in looks where I likely lacked in talent. Great, another place to feel like I don’t belong.
I follow Thomas to two seats in front of the bar, where he orders drinks for us.
“So, you come by Michael at all?” He asks as the bartender sets our drinks down in front of us.
I raise my eyebrows, taking a sip. “Oh lord, he’s crazy.”
He laughs, slapping a hand down on his thigh and stirring his drink in the other. “Well, sounds like you have a crazy story to tell. What happened?” He stares at me with a soft, flirtatious squint that almost leaves me flustered, but not quite.
“Tried to make me a real singer and take me to Chicago with him cuse he thought I’d make him big money, but when I told him I didn’t wanna leave Memphis he got real mad. He started throwin a hissy fit and everythin. Real jealous type.” I scoff, taking another sip. 
Thomas wide eyes me. “Damn.” Is all he manages to say, causing both of us to laugh. Saying it out loud for the first time made me realize just how ridiculous that time of my life really was. Kinda miss it though, in a weird way.
I sigh, turning in my chair towards him. “Yeah, turns out he had a lot more on his mind when we were kids than he let on. Elvis was there to see it all, even fought him too. Shit, you shoulda seen his face when Michael and I-”
I pause.
In the corner of my view lies the door. In from the door walks a man in an obnoxiously bright suit with his infamous crew of men behind him.
Speak of the fucking devil.
I should have known this asshole would pull anything and everything to stop this date from happening, yet here I am, shocked and unprepared.
He yanks off his sunglasses, grazing the room, landing on me with an annoyingly knowing grin. I glare deeply into his face, hoping it would be enough to steer him away and back out the door, but he just keeps treading forward.
He opens his arms, reaching out to place them on the backs of our stools. “Hey! What’re you doin here? Heard this joint was busy, but had I known you two would be here, I’d gone another night.”
Oh, I’m sure he would have. I’d hiss at him if I could!
Thomas smiles, reaching for a handshake. “Hey. No problem E.P. Think you’ll like some of the cats in here anyway.”
No problem? This is a big problem!
I have no doubt that Elvis will stop at nothing to embarrass me in front of Thomas. It’s all he’d do as kids and he’s only become more of a menace with age.
“Hey.” I whisper through my teeth to him. “Who’s watching-”
“Marcella.” He answers, already knowing.
Oh, I don’t like that woman being near my baby so much. For all I know, she could be filling his head with lies.
A loud howl of a voice echoes through the microphone causing all of us to turn to the stage.
“Woo! That man ain’t singin, he’s sangin!” Thomas exclaims.
Elvis matches in enthusiasm. “You think that’s impressive, you should see Beale after the sun go down. Woowee, now that’s somethin. He got himself a nice 4 piece up there though.” The bartender hands him over a drink and he sips from it with a concentrated smile.
Jerry and the others sit at a table behind us, watchin the stage as Elvis works his torturous ways.
The song comes to a close. As the band exits backstage, a man walks on, dressed nicely in a suit, smiling wide for the crowd. ‘Alright, I’m back, remindin’ you once again that it is amatuer night, so any one of you is welcome to take the stage, whether you’re Aretha Frankin or just wish you were. Nah, I’m just playin. But if you got vocals, come up and show the locals! Ha ha!”
Elvis lets out a devious hum and I instantly know what I’m about to have to do.
“Honey ever tell you she used to sing?”
Lord.
My heart immediately starts beating faster. I better start picking out a song now while I have the time.
“Yeah, she did. That’s why we came here. Said she’d sing for me.” Thomas looks me up and down in a very flirtatious way.
“Did she now?” Elvis says deeply, looking down at me in my spot. I could have laughed at how upset this whole situation clearly made him, but I’d have to hold it in for now, I have to think quick. He forces a smile on his face. “Well, I think that settles it. Show em what you got, Bumble.” 
I shake my head. “Oh no, I don’t think so.” Oh, I will, but I need to buy more time to think of a perfect song.
Elvis comes close, resting his arm on the bar right in front of my stool. “Go on stage.” He softly commands. “Wanna hear you sing again.” My chest fills with butterflies. Song. What song! I shake my head anxiously, as he grins, waving his arms in the air to get the attention of the man on stage. “Hey! She’ll sing! Right here!” He yells, so the entire audience can turn to look at me.
The man on stage shouts out a ‘woo!’ as he calls me up. I’m gonna be sick. I slide off my chair, but before I can walk towards the front, Elvis grabs my arm. “You’ll be great. You always are.” He whispers. A small chill runs against the sensitive part of my arm. I look down seeing the small silver band wrapped around his finger, cooling my skin. When I look up, I’m met with my two childhood friends, both of which smirking quite lustfully at me. They both think I’m beautiful, and they both know I’m talented. I know a lot more about music than either of them remembered. This fills me with a sense of confidence, all previous thoughts vanishing from my mind. I know a song.
Elvis takes back his hand, leaning against the bar and nodding me towards the stage.
I’ll show him what he walked away from.
The crowd cheers as I walk towards the stage with my head high. I fling my hair over my shoulder, which is contrasting so nicely against the red dress I chose out today. In this moment, I feel more beautiful than I ever did in my 20’s. Maybe it was maturity, maybe it’s because I know Elvis is looking, whatever it is, it has me feeling ready to take on the world. 
The man hands me the mic, but I lower it to speak to the band. I ask them if they knew the song I had in mind. They smile upon hearing the name, causing me to mirror their smile. “Alright, lay me down somethin.” I say into the mic now, facing the crowd. Elvis tips his head to the side in amusement, not expecting me to react this way.
The guitarist begins the first notes of the song. I speak the beginning lyrics, just like the real singer does.
‘You broke my heart
'Cause I couldn't dance
You didn't even want me around’
For a moment, my heart bubbles up with fear seeing how everyone’s eyes are on me, but I easily push it away, knowing that I had what it takes to wow them in the way I always dreamed of doing since I was a little girl.
‘And now I'm back
To let you know
I can really shake 'em down’
There was no time to lose now.
I conjure up all those years of practicing, shouting out the next part just like Michael, the church, and Elvis have tried teaching me to do for years, only just now finally succeeding in doing it right and singing with that power I always strived for.
‘Do you love me?
Now do you love me?
Now that I can dance.’
I parade across the stage doing little dances for the audience members in the front row to enjoy, getting a slight high for their positive reactions, which only helps me continue on.
‘Now tell me baby
Do you like it like this
Tell me
Tell me!
Watch me now, hey!’
I grab the mic stand, twirling my hips in big circles in time with the music, watching carefully over my shoulder at my men of interest. I smile when I see I’ve succeeded in entrancing both of them, and then some. There are a lot more things I can get away with doing now than I could in the 50’s and it’s clearly leaving them speechless.
‘(Work, work)
Ah, shake it up, shake it
(Work, work)
Ah, shake 'em, shake 'em down’
I giggle seductively into the microphone, taking a look in the back to make eye contact with Elvis. His face is in a war, deciding whether to smile in amazement or stare me down for dancing in such a provocative way in front of everyone, which only makes my smile widen further.
I'm working hard baby
Well, you're driving me crazy
And don't you get lazy’
I don’t look back at them for the remaining portion of the song, but when I do, I’m met with the most thrilled pair of eyes. The crowd cheers while I catch my breath, but I can barely hear them over the sound of my beating heart that longed to hear every thought that raced through the mind of one man in particular.
Under the shadows of the club, I catch Thomas mouth an ‘ooo’ with an impressed smile, watching as I walk to them.
“God damn, lil mama. Where the hell’d’you learn all’at?” Elvis asks quietly when I sit back down in front of them.
I shrug. “Just kinda felt it in the moment, I guess.” I giggle, but it fades when I make eye contact with him. The way he was looking at me, Lord, I could pounce on him.
“That was real good, Bumble.” He admits earnestly.
I mutter a quiet thank you, as he sits down at the table next to Billy and Jerry.
“Man, that kid of yours gonna be one hell of a musical genius with a mama like her.” Billy says, patting him on the shoulder.
Thomas eyes Billy with scrunched brows. Suddenly, I feel the need to hold my breath, as if that would stop anything bad from happening. He slowly turns back towards me, still in heavy thought. “Charles…is your baby?” Now he looks at me.
My body stills. “I-uh, I figured you seen the news, was alright with everything.” I’m surprised Elvis didn’t tell him the second he got the chance, he knows information like that could ruin my chances. In fact, why didn’t he tell him?
“You and E.P. had a baby together?” He asks again, just to clarify.
My heart drops. “Yeah. But we aren’t together anymore. Is that…okay…?” It obviously was not okay with him, but I didn’t know what else to say.
His eyes widen. He looks around the club, shaking his head, as if desperately searching for a way out. “Yeah, no- I- Listen, Honey. You’re beautiful and all, but I ain’t lookin to get involved with kids right now. And-”
“No! It’s fine. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I’m not mad.”
He makes a reluctant smile at me, but awkwardly stepping off his chair and leaving me there to walk out the front door.
I turn towards the bar, shielding myself away from the rest of the club. A lone tear rolls down my face, but I wipe it away angrily.
God, this is embarrassing. Why am I even crying? I didn’t even really like him, he was just to get back at Elvis. But-...is this how everyone will react? Am I too old to be dating? Will having a kid ruin my chances of finding love again? Will being involved with Elvis make everyone run in fear? Maybe I’m just destined to be alone now. I had one great love affair and that’s all I’ll ever get. I guess most people never even get to experience the love Elvis and I used to have, so I should just be grateful I had it at all.
“You okay, Bumble? Why’d he run off like that?” Elvis asks, taking Thomas’ old chair.
I let out a long, defeated breath. “What do you want?”
“I wanna know that you’re okay.”
I roll my eyes. “Aren’t you happy? Don’t gotta worry about me dating, and you were right, no man even dares to look in my direction, just like you wanted.”
I huff, about to put my old drink to my mouth, but Elvis pulls it from my lips. “Don’t go down that road. Please. I can’t lose you too.” I look into his soft eyes, letting him take the drink from my hand and set it back down on the bar. “But yes, I am very happy.” I scoff out a light chuckle. I hate that he can always make me smile, even when I’m mad at him. He reaches out for my hand. “Come on, let’s get to the car. I’ll bring you back to the hotel.”
I follow him out back, slouching into one of the cars with him.
He sighs. “I really don’t like the idea of raising my boy alongside another man, you know.” He spreads his legs out across the edge of the seat, not scandalously, but welcoming nonetheless.
I cross my arms. I’m not gonna give into my thoughts. “Is that the only reason I’m not allowed to date?”
He scoffs, shaking his head at me and looking out the window. “Ain’t never said you weren’t allowed.” His hand rests on his thigh, patting down on it. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was taunting me over, unless that was my own heat talking.
I lean up in my seat, eyes glossing over him. Thomas or not, it’s supposed to be me teasing him. He’s supposed to be under my spell tonight, not the other way around. I reach behind me to push up the car’s partition, which catches his immediate attention. “So tell me right now, Elvis.” I gently push myself towards him, shimmying up my dress enough that I’m able to straddle his legs. He instinctively grabs my hips to ground me against him as we drive over a bump, which only results in me bouncing in his lap in a tortuous way for the both of us. “Tell me, ‘Honey, I’m perfectly okay seein you with another man.’” I whisper into his ear.
And here I thought all the childish bullshit games stopped after Michael. Guess we still have a little zest left in us.
He lets out a guttural groan, throwing his head back against the seat. “Bumble, don’t start this with me.”
I ghost my lips over his neck, purposely making an effort not to directly touch him. My warm breath glides down his skin, causing his hairs to raise. His grip on me tightens, making my body shiver, wanting so desperately to give in.
Those feelings are never gonna go away no matter how hard I try, there was little to no point in running any longer. I’m sick of pretending like I’m some saint, I wanna know how he really feels.
“Is she as good as me, baby?” It's the first time I’ve reciprocated a nickname for him. He tilts his head back up, looking into my eyes with his dangerously hooded ones. I giggle at his expression, knowing I was teetering over the edge of our respectable boundary. “Do you think about me when you’re with her?” I wouldn’t have had the guts to ask something like this, but I know he does. I know he still thinks of me, because I can’t stop thinking about him. “Do you think about how I used to feel?”
He twitches beneath me, pulling me closer to him. “Shit,” He mutters under his breath. Yeah, he still thinks about me. It takes so much effort not to touch him that I feel on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. “You’re playin a dangerous game and you know it, baby.” He digs his fingers into my thighs, pushing me down into him, but nothing more.
I’m older now, wiser, bolder. If I would have had this same confidence 10 years ago. I would have left him weak to his knees. However, I’ve quickly made a new discovery being with him for just these few weeks. While I’ve grown more assertive, it seems so has he. We have both changed and grown over the past years, but my strength to resist him has not. Instead of surprising him and making him weak with the new me like I thought I’d be able to do, I’m matched with an even more powerful force of lust and seduction than I ever dreamed of him having. As if he wasn’t enough as is, he just keeps getting better.
The car drives over another bump, making my breasts bounce against his chest, while the rest of my body adds pressure to his lap. I crumble into him, allowing myself only to wrap my arms around his neck. He grinds his teeth, closing his eyes to concentrate. 
I shouldn’t give in so easily, but he’s all I have left from my old life, all I have left of my youth. Every time I see him is a reminder of home, a reminder of what should have been.
Just then the car comes to a stop. Before I can get off of him, the door is pried open, shining the blinding garage lights onto us in the otherwise dark car. I quickly push myself off Elvis, exiting the car and giving an apologetic look to Jerry, who thankfully is the one that opened the car door. 
Elvis steps out next to me, straightening himself out. “Jerry, could you see Bumble back to her room, please.” 
Jerry agrees awkwardly, escorting me to the doors. We stay quiet through the hotel lobby, until we get to the privacy of the elevator. “I couldn’t help but notice you still have something going on with E.P, if you don’t mind me asking, cause I don’t dare bother him about it.”
I scoff out a laugh. Was he actually that intimidating to them? I know he’s prone to having a temper, but he’s nothing but a baby around me most the time. Then I remember he’s waiting for an answer. What could I possibly say?
I sigh. “I’ve known him my whole life, Jerry. Shit, I’ve known him longer than his own mama.” Unfortunately, it was true now. “I love him, as a friend, as a lover. I tried to ignore it, but he really does mean the world to me. I only ever wanted him and it should have only been him, but we were too progressive for the times.” I stare blankly into the metal doors of the elevator. “Shoulda been my ring.” I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”
The door dings open. 
“Thanks for bringing me up. I got it from here.”
.
.
.
-Taglist-
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Anything for You, Darlin’
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Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader (can be Austin!Elvis if you prefer)
Word Count: 883 words
Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of the Colonel, Pregnancy, Language
Author’s Note: Chapter 7 will be a heavy so stay tuned!
Also special shoutout to @austinbutlersgirlfriend for requesting Chapter 6 today
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Chapter 6
July 31, 1969
For the first time in nearly a decade, Elvis was in front of a live audience at the International Hotel in Las Vegas. The tension was so tense, you could cut it with a knife. Elvis paced throughout the whole day, like a tiger in a cage.
When it come close to show time, Elvis needed you. “Satnin, baby come here I need my good luck charms,” he said and you and Mallory walked over to him.
You were dressed in the prettiest little black dress Elvis found for you and Mallory was in pink, one of his favorite colors. “Hiii,” Mallory said looking at her daddy. At this point, Mallory was saying “mama” and “hi” but still didn’t say “dada” just yet. “Hi there baby,” Elvis cooed to her, “I loves you baby girl. And don’t worry (Y/N) I love you too.” You kissed him and walked out with him to the backstage area. At this point, you and Mallory waved to Elvis and found your seats next to Vernon and Dee.
You were nervous for him. You had knots in your stomach hoping and praying that this risk would pay off. You were also nervous for another reason: you had a suspicion that you were pregnant. You didn’t know how you were gonna tell him since this timing wasn’t the best. But for the moment, you had to put that aside. When Elvis walked out there, it was like magic in a bottle. For the next hour and half, he performed and had the whole room in the palm of his hand. He had the women going crazy. During the performance, he would look for you and Mallory and mouth “I love you.”
Before it ended, the whole family as escorted to the backstage area. When the curtains went down, Elvis went off stage to greet everyone. The Memphis Mafia all congratulated him, his dad hugged him, and the Colonel was trying to think of a plan to make this work forever. Finally he got to you. Elvis picked you up and swung you around. “Elvis you did it baby. I’m so damn proud of you,” you said to him before planting a giant kiss on him.
“Baby i did it for you,” he replied back, “now where’s Mallory?” He asked and Jerry handed her to him. “There’s my girl!! Did you enjoy the show lil mama?” Elvis said her. Mallory looked at him square in the eye and said it: “Da…da.” His eyes welled up with tears as he walked back to the dressing room. He was pure heaven at this moment. In the back of your mind, you knew you had to tell him about the possibility of another baby on the way, but for a few moments you wanted to soak in this moment with him.
After three of you went back to your hotel room, you rocked Mallory to sleep and softly sang to her while Elvis was in the shower. After he was done, he got dressed in his pajamas and stopped in a doorway. He recognized the song you were singing to her: “Big Boots.” A tear ran down his cheek because he was seeing his wife sing one his songs to their daughter. After you kissed her little hand and put her to bed, Elvis came up behind you and just hugged you.
“Satnin, that was some pretty singing I heard from you,” Elvis said sweetly. You blushed because you didn’t know he could hear you. “Thank you, babe. You know you did amazing tonight,” you said back to him. The moment was perfect and you didn’t want to ruin it by what you needed to tel him, but you had to tell him sometime.
“Elvis, I need to tell you something,” you said to him while you turned around to him and walked to the master bedroom. He followed you concerned that something was wrong. “Darlin’ is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?,” he asked you with concern and worry. “No baby, you didn’t do anything. I..I..i I think I might be pregnant.” Elvis’ face looked at you puzzled.
“You think you might be,” he asked, “baby you need to take a test to see if you are. There’s a few of them in the bathroom, satnin.” You walked to bathroom and took two tests. You knew that Elvis wanted another baby, but you were worried about the timing. A million thoughts swirled around in your head while waiting for the results to pop up.
“Elvis, do you wanna come in here or do you want me to bring them out to you?”
“Just bring them out doll, I’m ready for whatever the result is.” You walked over to the bed where he was sitting and gave him the tests. “Babe, they’re both positive: I’m pregnant.”
Tears were filling up his eyes. He shot straight up and hugged you tight “Satnin, I love you much! My baby girl is gonna have us another baby!!” In that moment, you knew that the timing was right. For the rest of the night, you two laid in bed and Elvis laid his hands on your stomach as you both fell asleep. Baby Presley #2 was on their way.
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bunnysbrainrot · 1 year
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Supernatural Headcanons!
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SPN has been on my mind like crazy lately. I wrote tons for it when I was younger, but now the writing skills developed and I must dump these somewhere.
Sam: Sam loves quality time with the people he cares about. This can be anything from researching together, or simply buying groceries. He lets you get a few treats for yourself on grocery runs, and thanks you for giving him some company. Back at home, he prefers to relax and watch documentaries or action shows. Being with Sam feels productive and exciting, learning new facts and debunking cases together.
Dean: Even though Dean has a harder time to warm up than Sam, he still likes his downtime. Just like his brother, Dean enjoys a good TV show, but he likes the drama-filled ones. He likes the trashy ones that definitely seem scripted, even though it’s just for fun. Jerry Springer, Maury, Judge Judy, those are his guilty pleasures that he would only share with you. He likes to make a few snacks with you to munch on while you browse the channels.
Castiel: Castiel knows how little of the world you’ve truly seen, and wants nothing more than to show you the beauties of the world. He shows you his favorite historical sites, relaying the stories that stuck there. He tells you stories of Heaven, and if the beauty of the first days in creation. Cas is gentle and kind, but sometimes there’s a disconnection with what humans are like compared to angels. Though, you are giving him more insight to understanding them.
Crowley: The king himself, and as proud as he is, it translates into your time together. Crowley loves to show you exciting parts of the world, bringing little gifts home for you to enjoy. You insist that the gifts aren’t necessary, to which he insists that you deserve them and then some. He’s very doting, although he acts like he hasn’t a care in the world. He also enjoys soap operas and dramas. Luckily you his best buddy to do that with.
I plan to do another part for this, what characters would you like to see? Can be both SFW or NSFW
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katy-133 · 2 years
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Rick Prime's Leitmotif
[This post is copy/pasted from the Rick C-137 & Prime Masterpost I reblogged. I'm reposting my thoughts for organisational purposes.]
Imma bout to be destroyed by a literally 823 year old song.
Prime's Leitmotif (Music)
A favourite of mine to talk about: Leitmotifs.
A leitmotif is a piece of reoccurring music that is associated with a particular person, idea, or situation.
Because of how animated tv series are produced, giving each episode a new and unique soundtrack is hard because of the limitations of time and resources. So series will often reuse music and start to create patterns and associations (both on purpose and sometimes by accident) that the audience will start to pick up on. These patterns and associations become leitmotifs.
You can even use leitmotifs to do things like create foreshadowing, remind the audience about a previous idea, and to give a previous scene a new emotional perspective that changes its context. There's a great video on how motifs are used in the musical Hamilton by music theorist Make Stuff that includes examples you can listen to.
Rick and Morty uses various leitmotifs throughout the series.
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For example:
For the first episode Evil Morty is introduced in (season 1 episode 10), the ending song that plays is "For the Damaged Coda." It's a very recognisable song in the show because of its unusual use of the piano and vocals. It stands out. (YouTube clip)
It's never reused again... until The Ricklantis Mixup episode that reveals Evil Morty has taken over the Citadel (season 3 episode 7). This establishes the song as "Evil Morty's theme." (YT clip, at 1:25)
Then it is used a third time (this time it's remixed as an epic orchestral version with strings) when Evil Morty escapes the Central Finite Curve (season 5's season finale). (YT clip)
So, does Prime have a leitmotif? And if so, what does it say about him?
For the first question: The short answer is yes. It plays during the scene where Prime shoots Jerry. Right when he fires:
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This theme also plays:
During the beginning of the scene (more subtly).
When C-137 and Morty are in Prime's lair (remixed to sound more like an action sequence) in season 6 episode 1. (YouTube clip)
During the end of the season 6 season finale (during C-137's rant about hunting Prime down).
On the second question, the longer answer is:
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Dies Irae.
As in
THIS mf:
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So, this was something I didn't realise myself, but 4shame pointed out in this video (at the 15:04 mark) that Prime's theme uses a variation of Dies Irae (the go-to music to introduce a villain or kill off a character). Thank you to @fanbun for introducing me to this video in a post.
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You have likely heard this motif, even if you didn't realise it. Dies Irae is used in the darker moments of The Lion King, Home Alone, The Shining, Jurassic Park, Frozen 2, The Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Good Place, and Star Wars, just to name a few examples. (YouTube compilations: 1 , 2 , 3 )
Dies Irae was originally a 13th century (circa 1200) Gregorian chant created by Catholic monks. For more information on its history (and more examples of its use in media with on-screen note visuals), here is a video about it by Vox I watched 3 years ago:
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For the purposes of this discussion, I'll sum up the Dies Irae ("Day of Wrath") motif as a set of 4 deep notes that are about the Catholic church's belief in a day of judgement (where God judges the living and the dead and decides whether they go to heaven or hell).
Dies Irae was used specifically for funerals and has an association with death, facing a grim reckoning, and an overall sense of dread.
It's also worth noting that historically, some more stuff happened to this song prior to it being used in film:
French composer Louis-Hector Berlioz took Dies Irae and removed the words (the version we recognise, since the vocals are rarely used in film--The Hunchback of Notre Dame is the only example I recognise that included the monk chanting). This resulted in the movement (a self-contained part of a musical composition) "Dream of the Witches' Sabbath" located in "Symphonie Fantastique" (1830 symphony), which is about a man whose past lover comes back to torment him.
The music is associated with obsessive love.
4shame's video points out that Prime's theme ALSO uses a variation of the Rick and Morty opening theme song (aka C-137's theme), removing only one note and slowing it down to make it sound more sinister. You can actually hear this best/clearest when Prime's leitmotif is played during C-137's rant in the season 6 finale, near the end, because the scene has to transition to the ending credits music (C-137's theme), which is cut off in this clip, but you can still hear the beginning of it:
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The Rick and Morty opening theme is blended into Prime's theme.
So in conclusion, Prime's theme is an evil-ifed version of C-137's theme, making the two characters very very linked. More linked than any other alternate version of Rick. Using a very specific set of notes that represents death, obsessive love, and facing a day of judgement. Something C-137 will have to reckon with when he reunites with Prime.
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kp12-art · 1 year
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I just finished Disenchantment Part 5 for the fourth time & I just have to say. AHHHH. I know a lot of people aren’t super happy with it & that’s valid, I can tell they had another part planned. But for what they were able to do, I assume because of strikes & Netflix being.. Netflix, they did an amazing job. I feel like there weren’t THAT many things left unanswered. That said, there were still a few, like who exactly is Freckles because he clearly wasn’t born as a puppet? Why does Ms. Moonpence have human ears & arms? What was the Øg curse? What was Dagmar’s plan exactly?
However. I’m alright with that not all being answered. I feel like they left it open ENOUGH so that they could continue, but closed off most things & gave everyone a happy ending so that they wouldn’t need to. Goodbye Bean is my favourite episode in the show & I can say that confidently.
I said in a previous post but I’m genuinely very satisfied with Luci’s ending. Jerry’s too. I thought it was sweet. Luci, the guy trying to prove himself as evil the whole show while clearly being a good person finally accepting & being okay with the fact that he’s good after doing the thing that literally saved all of existence. Then becoming an angel. That’s beautiful. :(( (oh yeah plus Jerry being God’s favourite & ending up in heaven. Plus finally taking God down a notch, you could see in his eyes how tired he was all throughout his time in heaven & it took him killing God, then helping Luci save God to bring back hope).
Not a huge fan of “everyone gets paired off” as an aroace but I’m glad that of my six favourite characters (I can’t pick okay), only one (Miri) got paired off in Part 5. Luci, Jerry & Oona all stayed single, while Odval & Sorcerio were together since before the show & they got married waaa. One gay wedding cancelled? It’s okay here’s another one <33
I loved the Oona appreciation, & I loved how she treated Jasper, that was so sweet. Speaking of Jasper WHAT A MOOD, most of his lines were “ew” & like. Same I said ew every time he did.
Btw did anyone notice that Odval’s first & last lines are low-key relevant to each other? The juxtaposition is so funny when you put them together. “You’ve had your fun, now it’s time to get married. Would your highness care to get in?” *cut to his own wedding* “oh goddammit!”
Chazzzzz’s first & last lines are also kinda similar, he said he dreamt of being a king once, & his last line is “Royal Chazzzzz” (I know it’s a play on royal flush, but it’s just funny haha).
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beardedmrbean · 1 year
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“1916 showed us the way!” didn’t it lead to multiple Eastern Europeans leaving their home countries to escape communism? And iirc in the 80’s ussr had to ban a American movie because Russians were surprised that even the poorest Americans could have their own car.
Hmm what happened to the Romanovs? Oh yeah after their murders they are heavily romanticize (heh) and later became saints. That usually happens when the next leaders are worse than the last.
I can say more but Jesus Christ commies are dumb, can someone make Liberty Prime already?
Ya some of the most hokey jerry rigged contraptions in history were made by smart people who were trying to escape their communist utopia.
Also you're thinking of "The Grapes Of Wrath (1940)" staring Henry Fonda, only thing good that ever came from a John Steinbeck novel imho. The Grapes of Wrath (film) - Wikipedia
Although Steinbeck avoided a call from the House of Un-American Activities Committee, the film based on his book, which subtly (many would say openly) criticizes capitalism during the Great Depression by following a family of sharecroppers, received significant backlash from the public.
In the times of the so-called “Red Scare”, such criticism was perceived as “socialist”, “Marxist” and above all ― un-American.
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John Carradine and Henry Fonda In ‘The Grapes Of Wrath’
Therefore, when the film was given the “Red Label”, the USSR felt that it was time to step on the stage.
Stalin himself considered that if The Grapes of Wrath managed to annoy the U.S. government so much, perhaps it could be used as a propaganda tool in the country which he governed with an iron fist.
He approved the film to be released in the USSR in 1948, at the time when the Cold War was just “heating” up. This wasn’t a common sight at the time, as cinemas only promoted domestic productions.
Stalin, who had the final say on pretty much everything that was going on in the country, was highly suspicious of foreign movies, which he considered to be “subversive”.
However, in this case, Uncle Joe thought that a film which the Americans label as “socialist” must be heaven-sent in the largest and most influential socialist state of the time.
This was a sound conclusion given that the main subjects of the story ― the Joad family ― are suffering from poverty after losing their farm due to the recession which forces them to become migrant workers.
However, after the film was released, Stalin’s idea completely backfired. In the film, it appeared as though even the poorest owned an automobile ― a luxury that was off limits to an ordinary Soviet citizen at the time. Instead of evoking anti-capitalist sentiment among the common folk, it was as though the only thing the viewers could see was the difference between being poor in the USA, compared to their own experience in the USSR.
While the USSR boasted itself as the country that belongs to the peasants and the workers, Stalin had, in fact, canceled many of the privileges that were gained during the country’s first years. ___________________
Romanov's suffered from blue blood, but yes they were absolutely slaughtered, SOP for royalty generally speaking.
Last Czar of Bulgaria, Simeon Borisov von Saxe-Coburg-Gotha (you may recognize some of those names at the end, they're all related to each other) is still alive and served as Prime Minister there for 4 years so don't always get murdered.
Another fun bit with the commies is they blame capitalism for their own failures too, 'US didn't trade with them so they didn't have enough food' kind of thing.
hunger makes you dumb, we should have a give a snickers to a commie day, might help
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smww4ever · 9 months
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The Nephilim and Damsel in Distress Tropes
The Nephilim Trope and The Damsel in Distress Trope
This is the driving mechanism behind the Superman/Lois relationship and why it's been in the forefront and psyche of our comic pop culture for so long. You often hear of their 80-year romance and how that itself confirms it's virtue. Understand that yes his creation was based on Moses, a savior to the Hebrews and his creators were Jewish. The humble origins of this character gave hope to the creators, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster. It is my understanding that the Lois Lane character was inspired by a dominant female person in their lives. Think it was a spouse or a real-life feisty reporter. Either way, Superman has evolved over the decades in the Silver Age, Golden Age, Post-Crisis, Infinite Crisis, New 52, Rebirth comics even in the Snyder films, he mirrors a Christ-like figure in scene motifs of the church and space by sacrificing himself.
Yet his story plays out more as a Nephilim type. It is sold as that in the Rebirth and TV shows where he marries a human woman and has children with her.
As a god from heaven that fell for a human woman and saves her. For some this may sound romantic which is why these types of stories are repeated over and over again. People romanticize something greater than themselves. They are stories that rescue them out of futility. Unfortunately for the story of Nephilims was not a good one. It too originates from Old Testament times where angels who’s job was to be watchmen over humanity decide to leave their posts and have sexual relations with human women. This in turn produces giants or men of reknown like an alien-human hybrid. They weren’t good but evil.
Angelic Heroes and Wings
I explored this concept of angelic heroes in a previous series which is why I decided to put wings on Superman. And Wonder Woman as well. Her wings were different from the golden eagle armor costume. Even tho one rendering made them look like it. The intention was angelic wings. I extended the wings to bring in the Greek myth of Pegasus in a later series. (The AI struggles with it in some cases so I made edits as best as possible).
Let me be clear, I don’t see Superman or Wonder Woman as evil beings. The wings truly represented them as angels that save and help mankind. Which is why when I saw that concept being copied on IG by other AI peeps, they weren’t doing it because of this reason but because it looked cool and would garner them likes and clicks. I found it especially repulsive when they hashtagged their work with “SuperLucifer”. I hope you understand why I was pissed. But IG is rampant with intellectual theft. Heck Mark stole the idea for FB so this spirit carries on. Reddit has numerous horror stories. I've done makeup blogging and photography work, so I have horror stories of my own.
But back to why DC dropped SuperWonder. The Nephilim myth carries weight in popular culture. Kal and Diana almost mirror a “Zeus and Hera” dynamic. In one way, yes they are like gods but you don’t want them as that couple. Zeus was a philanderer.* Which is another aspect to this why you see people say they don't like it because they would be overpowered. Humanity at it's core is selfish and easily threatened. People who say stuff like this, whether consciously or subconsciously see these characters as "golem" meaning they are mythical beings that should serve humankind only. That they should be centered around a single human love interest or they will go off their leash, off the rails and destroy everybody. It's a strange fantasy. Almost like a psycotic desire to be saved and destroyed by the same superhero. We really have issues with ourselves. Frankly I can understand this, the world is so messed up. The Nephilim and Damsel-in-Distress is a bubble that people want to run to. They don't want mature stories. And DC isn't capable of that. They have a formula like a cookie or fried chicken recipe and they don't want to muck it up. In the case of Gunn, they want Marvel's recipe but I don't think the seasonings pair well with the offerings of DC. Time will tell but the whole thing stinks. Trust your nose guys. Some of you are hip to senses like smell. :D
* I also should say that being the SMWW pair are equals, they could be new Zeus and Hera creating their own new pantheon of gods. But there can be so much more to that. They really are made for each other.
Also wanted to add that again DC isn’t as creative as they think they are and are scared of this couple. Easily manipulated by rabid "Nephil-Damsel" fans on X. Every time I look at my feed, it's back and forth war between Snyder and Gunn fans. Knowing that they just do that to farm impressions to get paid makes it all the more vile when you look at it. It would take time to shift the general population over to seeing SuperWonder as a viable couple. It's so ingrained in the movie and comics world that when you see Superman, you automatically think of Lois Lane. Many consider it abhorrent to think of this character with anybody else. So much so that they've lifted Miss Lane up to a level of godhood. This Nephilim trope also applies to Wonderbat. Bruce is a mortal albeit heroic man. Diana is a demigod/goddess. That doesn't work either because I've explored explained that in another post.
Really the only way is Kingdom Come but with who we have at the helm of DC, I wouldn’t be holding my breathe.
I've worked at Cons. I've seen the people who create the comics and the general vibe. Our whole society is shifting into dark areas and comics reflects that. We've gotten The Boys, Brightburn and even the Snyderverse is considered "dark", so it's not surprising that the Gunnverse is promising to lift everyone out of that abymssal void to a form of inspirational, fun heroism. Snyder should have finished his verse, it's just going to. be another gaping hole like SuperWonder is. Marvel and many other cherished properties are experiencing an erosion in interest and fatigue from the general audience.
There would need to be a serious paradigm shift to get people to see SuperWonder. Part of the reason why I did an exploratory in the AI with Diana and Clark which we have never seen in any live-action. And I say see SuperWonder because I was a Superman-Lois fan, I consumed, watched repeatedly all the shows and movies. (Except for Smallville and new show Clois show, couldn’t get into that). I immersed myself into that but felt that something was amiss. I don't even remember when I saw Superman and Wonder Woman together but it clicked and made complete sense. Like scales coming off the eyes. Seriously. I respect differences. My daughter isn't a SuperWonder fan, but she supports me and will wear my art. It would be great to call a truce between the two ships but that might take a while. That takes maturity and right now there isn't much of that going around.
Until next time… ✌️
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