#Hawaiian Independence Day

[freehawaii]

WILL YOU BE LIKE THEM?

[roosterforme]

Red Flags, Green Flags | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Hangman complains about his date’s red flags, but Bradley thinks this girl sounds amazing. 

Warnings: Fluff!

Length: 1900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more.

Hangman tossed some darts listlessly at the dartboard and sighed.  "What's your problem, man?" Bradley asked. "You look miserable tonight." "Yeah, you usually get off on beating us at darts. What's wrong?" Phoenix asked.  "I have a girl meeting me here for a second date in a little while," Hangman drawled, sipping his whiskey. "I'm beginning to think I shouldn't have asked her out again." Payback snorted. "What's wrong with her? She not hot enough for you?"

Bradley rolled his eyes. That was probably the case as each girl Jake dated somehow looked more like a model than the previous one. "Nah, she's real cute," Hangman said, scratching his chin. "She's just giving off some red flags for me. I think I was momentarily blinded by her face when I asked her out again, because she's definitely not my type." "What red flags does she have?" Phoenix asked, taking her turn at darts.  Bradley settled into his seat to listen. This ought to be good. "Well, she's really close with her family. Likes spending time with them," Jake said with a frown. Bradley's brow scrunched up; he thought that sounded pretty nice, actually. "And she volunteers all the time. At the library and the animal shelter and the soup kitchen. She's always so busy, it took forever to even schedule the first date! So I don't see this lasting past tonight," Jake added, finishing his drink. "She sounds pretty good to me," Bradley said cautiously. Actually she sounded really great. "You could always volunteer with her one day, then you'd get to spend some time with her." Jake scoffed. "I'd rather just find a girl who wants to spend her time with me," he said, flashing his charming smile. "This one is finishing graduate school for social work and likes to take her grandma to bingo. Plus, she definitely seems like the kind of girl who would wanna hold hands all the time." He grimaced as he finished.  Bradley just gaped at the other aviator, rendered speechless, because Jake had just described his dream girl. Cute, smart, helpful, loving, independent, and kind. And if she agreed to a second date with Jake, then she was definitely interested in him. "What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?" "Oh shit, there she is," Jake grumbled, setting down his glass and heading toward the bar. Bradley stood up and stared as Jake approached a beautiful woman with a stunning smile.   "Is he for real?" Bradley asked Phoenix in a dreamy voice. "She's awesome." "He's an idiot, but we already knew that," Phoenix told him with a smirk. "Why don't you go talk to her, Rooster. She's adorable." Bradley shook his head. "I can't, Nat. She's on a date with him!" But the more Bradley watched you and Jake together, it seemed like you weren't really into him either. You were smiling, but it wasn't reaching your eyes, and you had your arms crossed as Jake chatted with you. "Hmmm, fuck it," Bradley muttered as he took a deep breath and headed for the bar.  ---------------------------------------- Jake was nice and attractive, but he wasn't really doing anything for you. And now you were starting to regret agreeing to meet him here. You'd been contemplating calling him all day and canceling for tonight and any future dates, but you ultimately decided to give it one more shot.  But now you weren't paying any attention to him at all, because your eyes just landed on the most handsome man you'd seen in a long time walking up to the bar near where you were standing. He was literally the definition of tall, dark and handsome, and wearing a fun Hawaiian shirt. And he was looking right at you.  You felt yourself smile at him like an idiot when he grinned at you from behind Jake. He had a mustache that somehow made him look cute and playful. You wished he would say something to you. Oh shit, you hadn't heard anything Jake was saying.  You tried to pry your attention away from the newcomer, but then he rested a hand on Jake's shoulder and said, "Hey, Hangman, you gonna introduce me to your new friend?"  His voice! You were biting the inside of your cheek to keep calm, because this man's voice was sexy. Like pillow talk sexy, and making out in a movie theater sexy.  "Uh, sure," Jake replied, looking mildly annoyed. "Y/N, this is Rooster. Rooster, this is Y/N." "That's a pretty name," Rooster told you with a crooked grin, and it took you a second to realize he was talking about you. "Thanks," you replied with a laugh. "Rooster must be your call sign? You're an aviator, too?" "Yeah, my name's Bradley." "Bradley, it's nice to meet you." You liked his name, and his silly call sign. You liked the way he was looking at you and his kind brown eyes.  "Jake didn't get you a drink? That's not very nice, Jake," Bradley said to your date who just shrugged. "I'll get you one. What do you want, Y/N?"  You had to bite your lip before you accidentally replied with 'you'.  "Gin and tonic," you told him, and you watched as he was instantly flagging down a bartender. His huge bicep was flexing below his sleeve as he leaned against the bar and turned toward you. "So, Jake was telling us all about you," he said, and you were surprised once again to find Jake was still in your proximity, because Bradley had your full attention now. "Really?" you asked, eyeing Jake, surprised he would have been telling anyone about you. There wasn't much to tell after the first date. He didn't seem that interested in you, and you hadn't even kissed him goodnight.  "Yeah, he said you're getting a master's degree, and that you like volunteering and hanging out with your grandma," Bradley said, handing your drink to you when it arrived.  "Um, yeah, I do," you said with a blush as Jake smirked at you.  But you turned your attention back to Bradley when he spoke again. "That's cool. I volunteer with Big Brothers and Big Sisters as a youth mentor. And I used to love knitting with my grandma when I was a kid. I'm still pretty good at it, actually." Your jaw was hanging open, and you were having a hard time speaking. Was he for real? You took a sip of your drink and tried to gather your thoughts. Was it okay to ditch Jake and hang out with Bradley instead?  "I volunteer a few times a week, but I always make sure I have time to take my Nana to bingo," you said with a laugh when Bradley smiled at you. "You're really a youth mentor?" "Yeah, last week I took some kids on a hike to the state park beach, and Wednesday evening I'm going to teach them how to bake a cake," he told you before finishing his beer and setting down the bottle. "That's sexy," you said, surprising yourself and Bradley. But you didn't regret saying it. Not one bit. Because Bradley's cheeks flushed pink, and your eyes were drawn to his scars that you were itching to touch.  A startled laugh escaped his lips. "You think so?" "Yeah," you said, nodding your head fervently. Bradley shifted closer to you, and you noticed that Jake was nowhere to be found.  ---------------------------------------

Bradley liked you. A lot. You were absolutely gorgeous to look at, but you were also smart and funny and interesting. The more he asked you about yourself, the more interested he was.  You told him about school and your family and how much you loved going to the beach. And now you were so close to him, you were tracing his watch band with your fingers while you talked.  "I think it's sweet that you used to knit with your grandma. Mine is practically a professional bingo player, she wins almost every week. And she's really cocky about it too," you said, and Bradley laughed. "She is! She likes to gloat about it when she plays shuffleboard." "She sounds fun," he told you. "And just so you know, I'm pretty good at bingo, and grandmas love me." "I'll bet they do." You actually giggled. He was making you giggle. God, he didn't want this night to end. He was trying to think of a way to ask you out, without making it awkward for you or Jake. "So what kind of cake are you baking on Wednesday?" you asked him playfully.  "Not sure yet, but I was thinking about chocolate. You wanna come over and help?" Bradley couldn't explain it, but the idea of you helping him with the baking project had him excited. "You could stay and hang out afterwards. Maybe we could watch a movie together and have some of the cake?" "Are you asking me on a date while I'm technically still on a date with Jake?" you asked him with a grin. "Oh, your date with Jake ended a good thirty minutes ago," he informed you with a very serious look. "Now you're on a first date with me. You having fun?" You started laughing and looked away as your cheeks flushed. "A lot of fun, actually. I like you. You had me at youth mentor and really sealed the deal when you offered to feed me chocolate cake." Bradley couldn't stop smiling. "Can I get your phone number?" "Yes," you replied, and Bradley noticed you and he were standing so close now, your bodies were practically touching.  He watched you type your name and number into his phone as he asked, "You'll come over on Wednesday then? For our second date?" "Yes," you replied, handing his phone back to him with a smirk, but your lips were twitching like you wanted to laugh.  "Since we're going out now, is it cool if I kiss you?" Bradley asked with a smirk of his own. Your lips looked so soft, and Bradley really wanted to touch you.  You smiled up at him and said, "That was pretty smooth," before running your fingers along his scarred neck and up into his hair, pulling him closer.  Bradley leaned down until his lips met yours, and it was the perfect kiss. You were perfect for him. He put his hands around your waist and pulled you a little closer, kissing you a little deeper.  When you pulled back, you pressed your lips together. "Text me your address and I'll be there on Wednesday. For cake baking assistance and our second date." "I will. I can't wait to see you again," Bradley replied, and it was the truth. Bradley walked you to your car, and with one more sweet kiss you were gone. When Bradley went back inside to settle his tab, Jake approached him. "You stole my date," Jake drawled, shaking his head but smiling. Bradley just grinned at Hangman. "It's pretty funny when you think about how she completely ditched you for me. Maybe I'll let you give a speech about it at the wedding."

--------------------------------------

SO FLUFFY! Thanks for reading!

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[genderkoolaid]

holy shit i just found out about the Otherness Archive. its a collection of films by/about transmascs/transmasculinity, with a lot of them free to stream on the site itself. a lot of the videos don't work or aren't available anymore, but some that I've watched:

A Place in Middle (2014): "Eleven-year-old Ho'onani dreams of leading the hula troupe at her inner-city Honolulu school. The only trouble is that the group is just for boys. She's fortunate that her teacher understands first-hand what it's like to be 'in the middle' - the ancient Hawaiian tradition of embracing both male and female spirit. Together they set out to prove that what matters most is to be true to yourself.. This 25 minute film is adapted from the PBS Independent lens feature documentary "Kumu Hina"." (25min, captioned)

Adam (1996): "In this tender clay animation, a little girl is mistaken for a boy and relishes the opportunity. Illuminating the innocence of first sexual experiences and the fluidity of gender identity, ADAM is a delightful reminiscence of childhood. (4min, auto-captioned)

The Misadventures of Pussy Boy Trilogy (2022): "[A] trilogy of short videos subtitled First Love, Sick and First Period, each video's running time is approximately 6 minutes, all videos are animated in a fashion that is very much "do-it-yourself" aesthetic, as told from the point of view of a transgender youth in rural Cape Breton." (5min / 6min (the second video is unavailable), auto-captioned)

Brace (2015): "After coming out and leaving his girlfriend, Adam dreams of finding acceptance within London's gay scene. His burgeoning freedom is soon challenged when he meets Rocky, a handsome stranger who is harboring a secret that he desperately wants to share with Adam. As their bond strengthens and Rocky prepares to reveal his secret to Adam, their fledgling romance is ruptured by a cataclysmic event that forces the truth to come out in the most explosive manner." (24min, no captions)

A Day In The Life of A Bull-Dyke (1995): "A Day In The Life of A Bull-Dyke follows a big boned butcher into skirmishes, drag, and the arms of a beautiful recruit. The public and private lives of this "strange animal" are explored with the reverence and glee found in the educational exposés like Reefer Madness and bad-boy films like Rebel without a Cause. However, because this fictionalized lesbian history is a first-person narrative, it is filled with all the joy, pain, and ambivalence each of us experiences while negotiating a marginalized identity." (10min, no captions although the audio is quite clear)

[queen-breha-organa]

Today is Hawai‘i Admission Day, also known as Statehood Day.

This “holiday” was created to commemorate the anniversary of Hawai‘i’s admission into the United States of America.

This holiday is a sham.

The Kingdom of Hawai‘i was illegally overthrown by American businessman who had the help of U.S Minister John Stevens and the threat of American troops. They forcefully overtook our nation, and declared themselves the new provisional government of Hawai‘i.

Later our nation was made a territory, and in 1959, under the Hawai‘i Admission Act, we were admitted as a state.

There is no treaty of annexation between the Kingdom of Hawai‘i and America. We have not given up our sovereignty. Our kingdom was forcefully overthrown and stolen from us.

Hawai‘i is an illegally occupied nation under the iron fist of the United States.

Statehood supports American greed.

Statehood supports the unsustainable tourism and development of our `āina.

Statehood supports the harmful commercialization of my people and our way of life.

Statehood has allowed the Navy to poison our water again and again.

Statehood has allowed my people to needlessly suffer and die.

Statehood has stripped us of our identities and our nation.

We have fought hard to endure under the occupation of America. We have pushed forward with a cultural rebirth, trying hard to keep our fading traditions alive, but we can only go so far without our sovereignty.

End the American Occupation. Restore Hawai‘i to Hawaiians.

To read more on Hawaiian sovereignty, history and the harmful impacts of American occupation, see the links below:

[powerofelvis]

Aloha To My Heart

Pairing: Elvis Presley x f!reader

Word Count: 10K

Summary: You’re known as the mystery woman that Elvis has hidden from the world. You’re oddly fine with it; the idea of keeping your identity safe from media scrutiny comes as no surprise to your fiancé but as the Aloha From Hawaii concert arrives, he asks you to attend.

Warnings: fluff, angst, the colonel and his manipulative ways, the aloha from hawaii concert, smut, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, multiple positions, dirty talk, sensual sex, talks of a wedding

A/N: It’s finally here, babies! I know it took me so long to finally get it done but motivation had left me for a while after the 1K celebration. In spite of the Oscars on Sunday, I wanted to come back and just post a light but angsty fic about a woman who will do anything to fight for her love that she has with Elvis. I hope this fic will bring light into your life just as it did with mine. I can’t even begin to express how much I adore Elvis especially during the Aloha From Hawaii concert because he truly gave his all then. Anywho, to keep from rambling on, here it is! I hope you all enjoy!

masterlist.

Hawaii is a beautiful and colorful place. The alluring flowers and the fragrant smell of Hawaiian food along the island was something that you were always excited to experience. It was one of the most prodigious places that you never thought you would have the privilege of visiting.

That was until Elvis came into your life.

You were not looking for anything serious in the beginning. In fact, you weren’t even sure you wanted to date him. You were always independent, not needing the help of anybody but certainly, a man. There was also the fact that you didn’t have the time to become another one of Elvis Presley’s women. You could care less about him being the most sought after man in all of the world, only caring about what made him human.

You had to admit though, he was very charming. Once he realized that you weren’t giving him the time of day because of who he was, he became more adamant about being in a relationship with you. He was still the conundrum who could have women falling at his feet, the temptation was too hard for him to resist. After all, he was a man and if there were enough attractive women who wanted to have a piece of him, he wouldn’t be able to fight off the urge.

But there was still you.

When he wasn’t traveling the country and enjoying the life that his fame gave him, he wouldn’t miss a beat calling you whenever he had the time. You were still hesitant, not letting him in but still enjoying his company. It wasn’t until he was completely through with his obligations in Las Vegas that you decided to give him a shot. However, you weren’t comfortable with letting the world know that you were in a serious relationship with their most beloved. Elvis wasn’t able to comprehend your wishes of remaining hidden at first, he would promise time and time again that he would protect you.

You stood your ground, not wanting to endure the scrutiny that came with being his woman. You knew that it would come with baggage, completely tainting your carefree personality. In the end, Elvis came around and honored your wishes by keeping your identity from the media and those surrounding it. The first few years were great; you would enjoy every moment in private with Elvis but you would also have moments in public, away from the prying eyes of the reporters who wanted to speak with Elvis at any moment.

Elvis was still riding the high of his engagement in Vegas, wanting nothing more than to bring his talents to the world. However, he couldn’t seem to get his manager, Col. Tom Parker to agree to his pleas of going overseas. Elvis was getting tired, often flying off of the handle if someone tried to bring up the international tour situation but with you, he would spend nights weeping in your arms and wallowing in his woes about how he wanted to travel the world with you by his side. It didn’t take long for him to get something he wanted, but it didn’t happen the way that he wanted it to go.

The colonel raved about the concert in Honolulu, claiming that it would be the greatest show on Earth. Elvis was enthusiastic about the plan, planning their trek to Hawaii to take in the sights before the rehearsals and concert would begin. You had no plans on going with him, telling him that you would stay back in Memphis and visit with your family. Elvis did not like that, wanting you by his side every step of the way. 

“Baby, you have to come with me. Hawaii is a beautiful place and I want to show my woman off.” Damn it. You thought that maybe you would be able to escape, but the man that you loved wasn’t going to allow that to happen. 

“You know that the colonel is not going to allow me to come and distract you.” 

The colonel didn’t like you, not sparing any pleasantries whenever he came in contact with you. Often, he would use childish tactics to get under your skin but it was usually shrewd comments about how you distracted his client, wanting nothing more than to witness Elvis ‘throw you out on your ass’ so that he could focus on his career. Elvis would fight with his manager, pushing the notion that his manager should respect the woman that he wanted to marry. You weren’t like any woman that Elvis had ever been with, only caring about his humanity and his morals. 

“Darlin’, please come with me to Honolulu. You ain’t gonna regret it, I promise ya.” His hands caressed your shoulders as he leaned into the shell of your ear. You knew that you couldn’t refuse him, pushing off the concerns that you had about being in public with him. You let out a sigh, turning to face him with a small smile on your lips. 

“Alright, I will come with you. Don’t expect me to want anything to do with the cameras though.” His smile shined as he grinned, his beautiful teeth sent a shiver down your spine as you melted under his touch. 

You couldn’t miss his mischievous grin as he left you to your devices, no doubt going to tell his scheming manager that his woman was coming along to Hawaii with him and the boys. You let out a sigh, making your way up to his bedroom to unpack the things that you had packed for what you thought would be for a trip to your parents, substituting for warmer clothing as you knew that Hawaii was much different in a sense of climate than Georgia. Although you were going to Hawaii with Elvis, you were sure that you would end up unhappy nevertheless. The Colonel wouldn’t say it to Elvis, but you knew that you wouldn’t hear the end of it from him because he knew that you would do nothing but distract his prized act, with your brown eyes and sweet little smile. 

Elvis always defended you against the Colonel’s attacks, stating on multiple occasions that you weren’t distracting him but you were there to keep him company. It just made it much better that you were his woman and that he didn’t have to share you with others, noting that his jealous streak was nothing to be ignored.

The day finally came around for your trip with Elvis to Honolulu and needless to say, you were more excited to visit the island than the reason that you were there in the first place. You sat happily on the jet, conversing with some of the wives who were coming along while Elvis was in the back of the plane speaking privately with one of the members of the mafia. “So, Y/N, are you excited about finally being in Hawaii?” Pat, Red’s wife sat up in her seat, wiggling her brow at you.

“I’ve always wanted to visit Hawaii, Pat. I just never thought that it would be Elvis who would make that dream come true.”

“Even if the Colonel could somehow ruin the vacation for the two of you?” Joanie asked, a scowl on her face as she talked about the man.

“Even if he ruins the trip, I will still be by Elvis’ side to support him.” Your arms crossed as you shook your head at the thought that the Colonel was already there in Hawaii with Jerry and that he would surely be unhappy to see you.

However, it was on the flight that you realized that you didn’t care what that bastard thought. You were there for Elvis and even the Colonel couldn’t change his mind about who he invited to Hawaii. You were no exception; in fact, if nobody else would have been invited, you were still the only person that Elvis wanted by his side as he navigated the biggest gig of his entire career. The flight went by smoothly, Elvis had made it back to where you were sitting with the girls and even initiated girl talk while you eagerly bounced in your seat when you took in the coconut trees that littered the island.

“Is it what you expected?” You turned your head to face your fiance, seeing his eyes gleaming with stars in his eyes as he took your hand. You didn’t know that he was watching you, taking in every bounce that you did in your seat.

You smiled at the man that you were madly in love with, taking him by the hand as you softly returned his smile. “Oh darling, it is much more than I ever expected. Thank you for convincing me to come with you.”

The plane finally landed and you were beyond excited about being able to breathe in the Hawaiian air. You noticed that there were crowds of people who were no doubt waiting to catch a glance of Elvis. The girls made their way off of the plane with their husbands, leaving you in the company of your fiance as he took you by the hand. He laced his fingers with yours as he made his way off of the plane, cheers filling the runway as the islanders finally laid their eyes on him. You found yourself proud to be by his side, pushing down your dress as the breeze blew it up over your thighs.

“Are you comfortable holdin’ my hand, honey? I know you want ‘ta keep it under wraps.” He tilted his head down to look at you. You playfully glared at him before nodding your head slightly as the both of you made your way down the stairs onto the runway.

The islanders were beautiful, hopeful that they got a chance to have a moment with Elvis. Their hopes were granted as Elvis made his way down the barricade, shaking hands and kissing the foreheads of those who he could get to. At this point, you were wearing a couple of leis around your neck, standing beside him as he conversed with his fans. You were finally having a taste of what his life consisted of when it came to his fan base. You were afraid that people would give you malodorous glances and whisper about how you were greedy for not sharing their idol with them, but they were nothing but welcoming to you. You were beginning to feel that maybe keeping your relationship with Elvis private was something that you didn’t need to worry about.

All the while, Elvis still held your hand tightly as he conversed with them. He would tug you closer with each moment until you were underneath his arm, his hand resting on your hip. “Aloha! Are you the mysterious woman that Elvis kept hidden from us?” One of the women in the crowd shouted out, earning cheers from the crowd as they began noticing how close you were with him.

Your heart caught in your throat, stammering as you tried to answer to the best of your ability. You couldn’t speak, looking up at Elvis as he laughed at the crowd’s eagerness to know about his private life. Maybe you spoke too soon, but you couldn’t turn back now. Elvis’ fingers rubbed circles on your hip as he turned to face you, his eyes pleading with you to speak, to say something that wouldn’t make him seem vulnerable in front of his fans. You let out a sigh as you turned back to the fans who were waving their arms to get your attention before you mustered up a small smile. “I am. Thank you for welcoming me to your wonderful home.”

You thought that maybe once they heard that you were another one of his women that you would get heckled, but it was the opposite. In fact, they were exhilarated to know that you were there to support the man that you loved. Although they were happy to know that you were the woman that captured Elvis’ heart, you noticed that the Colonel wasn’t returning the festive mood in the slightest. He was standing close to Elvis, a little too close for your liking.

He heard the question that was asked and although he didn’t speak a word, his facial expression spoke volumes. His face wore a permanent scowl as he looked you over, almost as if he was about to blow his top now that it was out that you were Elvis’ woman. However, you didn’t care, you were glad that he felt uncomfortable. The bastard had made you uncomfortable since day one.

Elvis spent a few more minutes with the fans before waving his goodbyes as he led you towards the limo that was waiting patiently for him. As you made it up to the door, you could feel Elvis being pulled away from you. You turned around to see that Elvis was being tugged away from you by his manager, who was angrily whispering to him. Although he was supposed to be whispering, you could hear every word that passed his lips. “My boy, I thought we were going to keep your relationship with Y/N secret, why did you allow her to introduce herself?”

You crossed your arms as you glared at him. “He didn’t allow me to do anything, I wanted them to know who I am. We weren’t being discreet after all.”

You motioned your hand that was still laced with his, pushing your tongue into your cheek as you took in the older man, a look of disgust covering your face as you turned to face Elvis. Elvis sighed, pinching his fingers against the bridge of his nose. You could tell that Elvis wasn’t having it being questioned by the colonel and he also wasn’t happy that you were angry.

He couldn’t figure out for the life of him why you and the Colonel couldn’t get along for a couple of days. “Look Colonel, they asked her and she answered. What do ya want her to do? I invited my woman here and I would think it would be okay if maybe for once y’all could goddamn get along for a couple of fuckin’ days! Now listen, I respect ya and would do anything that ya ask of me, but please get off of her case.”

You stuck your tongue out at the man before removing your hand from Elvis to enter the limo, crossing your arms. Joe turned around to look at you, a look of disbelief covering his face as he peeked out of the opened door, hearing the bickering that was happening between Elvis and his manager. “Sounds like there’s already trouble brewing. What was that all about?”

“The bastard is grilling Elvis about me telling the islanders about my relationship with him. It’s none of his business anyhow, I wish Elvis would kick that son of a bitch to the curb.” You grumbled, looking out of the window as your hands balled into fists.

Joe let out a sigh, patting your knee before turning to look at Elvis who was now scooting into the limo. You could tell that Elvis was upset, the anger burning off of his body as he sat quietly as the limo pulled out of the airport. No one would dare speak as they could feel that Elvis was in his mood so it was best that there were no conversations shared. You couldn’t blame them, but you were also angry at the fact that his manager had his balls in a twist because you came along on this trip.

You placed your hand on Elvis’ knee, smiling softly as he looked over at you. “Not now, mama. I’m so pissed that I could go back and choke that son of a bitch out. It’s not his fuckin’ business on how our relationship should be shared. I’m glad that ya felt comfortable sharin’ our news.”

You raised your brow at his words, but chose to keep your mouth shut because you didn’t want to anger him further. Instead, you smiled at him once more before placing your hand into his. His hand was much larger than yours, something that you always admired when he held your hand in the privacy of his home. You played with his pinky ring, admiring how his cheeks turned rosy pink as he noticed that you were occupied with playing with his fingers. Seeing you happy was all that he needed for the anger to burn away, his hand lacing with yours once more as he started cracking his normal jokes. You could tell that the tension had melted away as he continued with conversation with Joe and Red like nothing had happened.

You weren’t going to allow the Colonel to ruin things for Elvis, so you decided that you would have a talk with him yourself. You knew that it was an awful idea to speak to the man alone, Elvis would never go for it. You would just have to speak with him while Elvis was away at rehearsals, knowing that that was the only time that you could get your point across to the man that you were in Elvis’ life to stay and that nothing he could do would change it. As the limo arrived at the extravagant hotel that the Colonel had set up for Elvis to stay while you were on the island, you had begun to plan out how you would confront his manager.

Elvis could tell that something was on your mind, but you would change the subject as you didn’t want him to worry about you. “I’m fine, Elvis. Let’s go take in some sights, I’m excited to see what Hawaii has to offer.”

Elvis would drop the conversation as he agreed, calling on Sonny and Jerry to make sure that the two of you were safe while you were walking the streets of Honolulu. You made sure that your sundress was wrinkle-free before you put on your sun hat, pairing up your outfit with a pair of sunglasses that had Elvis’ initials in the middle. You grabbed your bag, throwing it over your shoulder as Elvis placed his hand into yours. You were ready to see the beauty that was known as Hawaii.

While you thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful sights of Honolulu and being spoiled by your fiance, you couldn’t push the excruciating conversation that you would have with his manager. The first day of being in Hawaii, Elvis had a press conference with his father, the Colonel, and a few business executives who had invested in ensuring the concert happened smoothly. You, on the other hand, were struggling with how you would confront his manager about his issues with you. 

“So, you’re telling me that you want to confront The Colonel about what?” You were sitting with Pat and Joanie at the hotel’s poolside, sipping nervously on an Hawaiian drink that you couldn’t remember the name of. 

“He clearly has a problem with me being here, so I want to know why.” You placed the drink down on the table as you turned to face the two ladies who stood by your side. You had to admit that you weren’t even sure why you would take that leap of faith and confront Tom, but something had to be done. 

“I know the reason why, Y/N. The man is a fucking moron; if it doesn’t revolve around him getting money, everything and everyone in his way is seen as a liability.” Joanie rolled her eyes as she eyed you with a slight glare in her eyes. 

You knew that the wives didn’t have much to do with the man, especially since he had issues with their husbands and their constant presence around Elvis. You had been there for them while they expressed their grievances about things that the man in question had said about their husbands on different occasions. It was no secret that your friends could care less about the man and opted that you did the same. 

However, you couldn’t push the nagging feeling out of your head that maybe there was something else that made the Colonel hate you more than anyone else in Elvis’ life. You had to get to the bottom of it and nothing that the girls or Elvis could say or do would change your mind about speaking with him to at least get the tension out of the air. You knew that Elvis would be angry once he learned that you had confronted the Colonel, not wanting anything of harm to come your way. 

“I don’t care, Joanie. He has to give me a valid reason as to why he didn’t want me to come here. For God sakes, he nearly blew his lid when he heard me telling the fans at the airport that I was his woman and that I was here to support him.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you looked out towards the beautiful ocean water that was in your sights. 

“All I’m going to say is that you should be careful. That man doesn’t have a bottom line, he will use any and everyone to make your life a living hell if you don’t see things his way.” Pat placed her hand on yours, giving you a sympathetic look while Joanie looked disheartened. 

You didn’t know why they worried so much, you could take care of yourself. Before you were with Elvis, you took every confrontation with stride. The Colonel wouldn’t be any different. 

It was a little bit after 4 PM when Elvis returned to the hotel, wanting to take you out for a private dinner. You decided that you would express your want of speaking with the Colonel because you weren’t sure when you would be able to talk with Elvis privately after the day was done. He had a few days worth of rehearsals lined up and you knew that you couldn’t distract him from ensuring that everything was perfect. As you sat in front of the love of your life, overlooking the beautiful Kahanamoku beach, you placed your hands into Elvis’ before letting out a long sigh. 

“Everything alright, mama?” You couldn’t help but smile as you turned to face Elvis as he looked over you with worry. You absolutely adored him, his ocean blue eyes were staring into your soul but you could tell that he was searching for answers of why you were so silent. 

“I have something important to talk with you about, Elvis. It’s nothing bad, but I know that it is unfavorable. I want to speak with Tom about his issues with me, to clear the air so to speak. He obviously has a problem with me being here and I want to know why.” You spoke, the word vomit passing your lips as you kept your eyes trained on the man in front of you, taking in his different expressions as he listened to your words carefully. 

Elvis was silent for a while, but you could tell that his mind was taking in what you were saying. He let out a sigh before rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea, baby. You know how he is, just leave it at that.” He turned to look out at the beach, but you knew that something was bothering him. 

However, you weren’t pleased hearing that Elvis was against you speaking with his manager. In fact, you were a bit frustrated that he wanted you to leave it alone. You pulled your hand away from Elvis, earning a frown as he turned back to face you. “Elvis, this man has been against us since the beginning. It may not bother you, but it sure as hell does bother me. I know you want me to leave it alone and let it continue, but I’m not sure if I’m able to. You may not like what I’m about to say but I’m going to say it anyway.” 

Elvis’ brows furrowed into his hairline, sitting back in his chair as he watched you. His cerulean hues returned your gaze as he started to speak, but he closed his mouth in fear of ruining the night that he had planned for the both of you. You knew from the expression on his face that he wasn’t pleased that you would go against his word, but he knew that you were as stubborn as an ox when you set your mind to something. It was one of the reasons that he fell in love with you and he knew it would be one of the reasons why you would get in trouble one day. 

“I’m going to talk to him and I’m going to let him know that I’m here to stay permanently. He has to see things from a different perspective, Elvis. Not everything is about money and I’m not with you because you’re Elvis Presley or because I want your money. I could care less about any of this, I just want to be happy with the man that I love.” You shook your head as you balled up your fists on the table. 

“Honey, I already knew that you ain’t with me because of who I am or what I can offer ya. ‘m just sayin’ that you shouldn’t get way over yer head about his feelings about ya.” With those words, he went back to looking at the waves that crashed along the shoreline, leaving it up in the air whether or not he gave you his blessing about conversing with his manager.

The dinner went without a hitch, keeping the conversation about speaking with Tom to a minimum as you decided that you were going to go through with it regardless of whether Elvis approved or not. You could tell that Elvis was still thinking about it, from his hands twitching as he laid them on the table and how he would take some time to respond to you when you asked him a question. Once dinner was over, Elvis suggested that you both walk on the beach. You were walking beside him along the shoreline, your hands laced with his as you held your sandals in your other hand. 

Elvis didn’t speak a word, letting out multiple sighs from time to time as he took in the cool Hawaiian air before he turned to face you. He didn’t say anything, only nodding his head as he pulled you into his arms. His nose was buried in your neck as he breathed in your scent, the smell of cherry blossoms and vanilla filled his body as he held onto you tightly. “If yer goin’ to speak to Tom, please promise me that you’ll be careful. He might not take kindly to your stubborn personality. I would hate to have’ta shoot the son of a bitch cause he talked to my woman disrespectfully.”

“Don’t worry, Elvis. I’m not going to be rude, I’m just genuinely curious as to why he doesn’t approve of me. I’m a big girl, remember? I decided to come with you and I decided that I will have an adult conversation with him so that we could at least find some common ground. I’m not here to stir up any problems and ruin your big day. I know how much this means to you.” You looked up at him as he towered over you, his blues sparkling under the moon that shone in the night. 

Elvis nodded, pulling you closer in his embrace as he pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, darlin’. Let’s get back, I have a lot to do tomorrow.” He sighed, sticking out his tongue as he mocked the man in question, but you couldn’t help but to feel as if Elvis was still worried about your upcoming conversation with the Colonel. 

As the next two days went by, you spent time with the girls as you got pampered with spa days so that you could look your best at the concert that was happening the next day. You hadn’t seen Elvis much, knowing that he was busy with rehearsals and getting his jumpsuit ready but you missed him. The concert day had finally arrived as you woke up in the bed that you shared with your fiance, knowing that he wasn’t there. You groaned as you got out of bed, the sun shining in your face as you started your day. 

“Still haven’t spoken to the colonel?” Red sat by you as you indulged in the wonderful breakfast that was complementary of the hotel.

“Nope, I’m going to talk to him before the concert starts though. I haven’t been able to find him.” 

Red sighed as he placed his hands on the table, scooting up to the table as he shook his head. “You’re one stubborn woman, but that’s what Elvis needs after all.” 

His friends were always poking fun at you about being headstrong and not stopping until things were settled your way, but that’s how you were and you didn’t see a problem with it. You ignored him, scooping up the fluffy eggs that blessed your palate before turning to face Red with a brow raised. You didn’t have to say anything, knowing that Red knew that you were waiting for him to elaborate about what he meant. 

“I mean that you are the woman that Elvis needs, maybe you could get to the bottom of why the Colonel doesn’t like us or anyone else who comes into Elvis’ life. I can only wish you luck though, the man is just as stubborn as you, maybe more.” 

“In that case, maybe we should be the main ones getting along. I just wish I could tell what the man is thinking. He has everything that he could want, Elvis takes care of him just like he takes care of us, so what is his problem with me?” You sighed. 

“His problem with you, Y/N, is that you make Elvis happy. Elvis was a wild man before you came along, he didn’t have any problems messing around and being a bachelor. I believe that the Colonel thinks that if Elvis settles down, he ain’t gonna have a place in Elvis’ life anymore. Which is probably the reason why he hates the guys so much.” 

“I’m not with Elvis because of fame or fortune. I’m with Elvis because I genuinely care about him, I love him. Shouldn’t that count for something?” You turned to face the man, tears burning at your eyes as you shook your head. 

“It counts for everything, Y/N. If Elvis has an issue with you speaking with the Colonel, I support your decision wholeheartedly. After all, you’re the only woman that was ever in his life who doesn’t take it lying down. Also, if it helps you, I can find the Colonel for you so you don’t have to run around like a headless chicken.” Red laughed, eliciting a laugh from you as well.

“Thanks Red, I appreciate it.” 

Red kept up with his end of the bargain, letting you know that the Colonel would be at the International center before everyone else as he wanted to know if everything was perfect before the show. You made your way inside of the center, looking in every crevice of the building for the man before you saw him. He exited from backstage, a cigar sitting on his lips as he puffed away. His face was in a permanent scowl, but it seemed to have deepened once he took in your form standing in the middle of the room. 

“Ms L/N, what a pleasant surprise. How can I help you?” He spoke, his eyes narrowing at you as he made his way over to where you were standing. 

“I wanted to have a conversation with you about something, Colonel.” You didn’t miss the glare that crossed his sunken eyes as he made his way over to where you were standing. 

“I think I know what you want to talk about, Y/N. Let’s not pretend that I don’t know, what is it that you want to speak about?” 

You suddenly had the urge to slap his trademark smirk off of his face as he watched you with slitted eyes, tapping his cane across the floor as he stood close to you. You had never met someone so conceited, someone so sure of themselves as much as this man was. Not only did he look at you like you were a piece of dirt under his shoe, but he had a hidden agenda in those eyes and you knew exactly what it was. He thought that you were less than him, less than Elvis, and even less than the world that you both lived in. 

“You don’t know shit, Colonel. You think you could just waltz around and give orders only because you’re the infamous manager of the most famous man who walks this planet. I don’t appreciate how you are treating me for loving Elvis. I also don’t appreciate how you treat him, you don’t think I know that you are secretly going behind his back to mess with everything he worked hard for?”

So much for not being rude.

His smirk faltered from his lips as his eyes changed into daggers and if they were real, you would be as good as dead from the hatred that flashed in his eyes. You weren’t going to stand down, crossing your arms against your chest as you returned his angry stare with your own. “That’s where you’re wrong, girl. I can waltz around and give orders because without me, there would be no Elvis Presley. You wouldn’t have even met him if it wasn’t for the plans that I have for him.”

The bastard was so sure of himself. It disgusted you.

“If anything, you should be thanking me. This little game that you call a relationship wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for me. How do you think Elvis is able to freely show you off? It definitely isn’t because of free will.” He chuckled with conviction, bringing his cane up before rubbing the bottom of it against your leg.

You stepped away slightly, appalled that he had the balls to be this close to you. Your mouth dropped but shut soon after as you were speechless. This was not what you had in mind, you were so sure that he would have been the one speechless at how you were standing up for yourself and for Elvis.

“You don’t own Elvis and you don’t own his relationship with me. Who the fuck do you think you are?” You spat out in anger, pushing his cane away from you before balling up your fists at your sides.

“But that’s where you’re wrong, little girl. I own Elvis and if you’re in his life, I own you too. I could snap my fingers and your relationship would be good as gone. There’s nothing in the world that I can’t have, and if you’re in the way of it, you’re seen as a problem. So tell me, Y/N. Do you want to be the cause of Elvis losing everything that he worked hard for?” He spoke firmly.

That’s not what you wanted, not in the slightest. You were happy knowing that Elvis had everything he wanted in life, but you weren’t pleased that the man that stood in front of you could take it away. You found yourself shaking your head, your body shivering with anger as you bite your tongue to keep your thoughts from pouring out of you. You wanted nothing more than to knock him down a few notches, but it wasn’t the time knowing that Elvis had a big show later that night.

“You don’t own me, Colonel. You don’t own Elvis and you don’t own what God has placed in his life. You’re sorely mistaken if you think that you can scare me. I’m in his life now, so it’s in your best interest to stay away from our relationship.” You didn’t know where this confidence was coming from, but you took a deep breath before continuing.

“You have nothing to lose and neither do I. I will go down fighting for him and if I have to drag you to hell along with me, so be it. Stay out of our relationship, I’ll stay out of your way. It’s that simple.” You glared before turning your back to him, stomping out of the convention center. You saw red, knowing that if you didn’t get away from him, you would do something that you would soon regret.

You found yourself back in the convention center later on that day, filled with nerves as you watched everyone run around to ensure that Elvis had everything that he needed for the show. You could hear fans packing the center, their cheers and excitement filled your body with happiness as you noticed Elvis making his way over to you. He was filled with nerves, playing with his rings on his fingers as he spoke with Sonny about security protocols. 

“You’re gonna be fine, baby. You’re gonna do just fine.” You spoke as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, standing up on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“I-I-I don’t know about this, baby. I haven’t performed in front of a crowd like this, especially now that it will be seen around the world.” He whispered against your lips, his body shaking in your arms. 

“Baby, you are more capable than you realize. They are all here to see you, keep that in mind. You’re one talented man, Elvis. You can do this, I’ll be in the front row supporting you.” You gave him a smile as you felt Red’s hand on your shoulder. 

You knew that it was time for you to find your seat, giving Elvis one last look before leaving him. You wish that you could have held him in your arms, but you knew that he was needed by everyone else other than you. You found your seat, sitting down as you stared towards the backstage, knowing that Elvis was soon to make his entrance.

The Hail Elvis song kicked off, cheers filling your ears as Elvis walked out on stage with a smile on his face. You were madly in love, seeing how he walked with such confidence. His american eagle jumpsuit fit him in all of the right places, the belt shook with each step that he took. His eyes roamed the crowd before they fell on you, a small smile crossing his lips as he took in your form as you waved to him. You held on to the yellow lei as you watched him conform to the rush that he always felt when he was in front of his fans. You sat with a smile on your face as he performed, completely taken by the fact that he was in his element.

As he performed Fever, you couldn’t help but be captivated. Here was the man that changed your world in more ways that you could ever imagine. You were truly in awe of how he could command a room with only one look. He was an enigma, but you were his woman so you knew differently.

Elvis, the man far beyond the enigma that people knew him to be was only a simple man. He loved guns, he loved southern food, and he loved southern women. The fact that you were lucky enough to be in the crowd to witness him in all of his glory was enough to prove to him that you were meant for him. He would spoil you, that was no lie. He never asks you for anything in return, but when he needed you there for support; he knew that you would never let him down. After all, you were his Belle, his queen, the reason for his being.

As he graced the stage in his American Eagle suit, your eyes lingered longer on his body. His chest, the little drops of sweat glistening on his skin as his jet black chest hair made your mouth water with need as you pictured him above you. You wanted nothing but to watch his chest heave as he took you again and again, but now wasn’t the right time. Elvis, noticing you watching him, sent a sultry smile in your direction as he continued in song but there was something there: desire.

He made his way over to you, leaning down to face you as you stood mindlessly from your seat. You held the lei in your hands, fingers shaking with need as he pushed the pinkish lei that rested around his neck over his neck before handing it off to Charlie. You raised a brow, chuckling as he tilted the crown of his head down towards you. You placed the lei over his neck, smiling slightly as he leaned into you. His lips found yours in a tender kiss, not wanting to let up as he smiled against you. He chuckled, seeing how flustered you were before pulling the microphone from up under the lei.

He stood back up, much to your chagrin before making his way back to where he stood. After the song ended, he smiled brightly before pulling the microphone back up to his soft and plump lips. “Thank you ladies and gentlemen. You’ve been great so far.”

“I want to introduce you all to my reason for being here tonight. She has been by my side for some time, but I-I honestly don’t see myself with another woman other than this person. I would like ‘ta introduce ya to my beautiful fiance, Y/N. Stand up for me, honey.” He turned his head towards you, smiling softly as you stood up from your chair as you waved to the crowds of people who were clapping and cheering.

You weren’t sure how long you were standing before he made his way over to you once again, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. He wrapped his hand around yours, squeezing softly as he whispered sweet nothings in your hair. At this point, you wanted nothing more than to jump his bones in front of everyone, but you knew you had to keep some form of decorum about yourself.

The concert continued on after your introduction. You knew that your face would be plastered over the newspapers back home, but you didn’t care anymore. You were so glad that Elvis loved you and that you loved him just the same. Red made his way back over to you as he finished up his last song, whisking you away from the adoring fans that sat around you. You made your way to Elvis’ awaiting limo, sitting on the cool leather seats as you waited for your man to make his way back into your arms.

You didn’t have to wait long. The opening of the limo and the shuffling noises that were made indicated that Elvis was back. Elvis immediately pulled you into his arms as he nuzzled his sweat-drenched face into your shoulder. As the limo pulled away from the convention center, you could barely make out what was going on but all you knew was that he was back into your arms as the promoter spoke the famous words that put an end to his performances.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Elvis has left the building.”

Elvis decided that he didn’t want to attend the after party with the rest, making up an excuse that he was tired from the stress of the show. You had returned to your hotel suite, knowing that the following day that you would have to return to Memphis. The beautiful island becomes nothing but a memory as you would soon go back to reality. You stood at the glass that overlooked the island, taking in everything that was happening outside of the hotel walls. 

Elvis made his way over to you, wrapping his slender arms around your waist as he took in the scenery with you. “You know this isn’t the last time that we will be here, lil.” He spoke softly into the shell of your ear as he pressed heated kisses along your shoulder.

“You mean it? It’s beautiful here, I don’t think I would be able to visit any other island that isn’t Hawaii. It doesn’t hold a candle to how beautiful this place is.” You whispered, turning around to wrap your arms around his shoulder, playing with the gems that adorned his jumpsuit.

Elvis smiled softly, his blue eyes staring into your soul as the desire that was in his eyes during the show had returned once again. “Baby, if you want to visit again, we will visit again.” He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pressed his lips to yours heatedly.

He pushed you against the glass, lacing his arm around one of your thighs before moving it to wrap around his waist. You hummed out as you ran your fingers down his sweaty chest, his hairs glistening as you stared into his eyes. Elvis had cut off the enigma that he was when he was on stage, now standing before you was the man who was responsible for capturing your heart. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of tellin’ the world that yer mine, mama. Ya looked so beautiful tonight.” He whispered as he nuzzled his face back into your shoulder.

You let out little gasps as his lips nipped and sucked on your shoulder, leaving little bruises on your skin that you knew that you would have to hide the next day. He lifted your other leg, wrapping it around his waist as he held you up against the glass. You shivered, knowing that it didn’t take much for him to get the fire in your loins burning. His body pressed against yours, the gems of his jumpsuit rubbing against the thin material of your dress. His fingers pushed the straps of your dress down your shoulders as he left no skin untouched by his lips.

“Elvis, please.” You whimpered, reaching down to unzip his jumpsuit allowing the cool air to kiss his tanned skin.

“Tell me what you want, Satnin. Tell Buntyn..” He whispered into the shell of your ear as he pulled your dress down over your torso, revealing your breasts to him.

He wrapped his lips around one of them, the other was teased by his finger as he ran his callused digit around your areola. You shivered, tightening your legs around his waist as you grind your hips against his crotch. “Please, p-please fuck me, Elvis.” You whispered into the air that you shared with him.

He hummed, his tongue lapping up your nipple before he tugged on it with his teeth. The pain ached so good, goosebumps appearing on your skin as you held on to the man that you loved. He pulled your body off of the glass before making his way over to the bed that you shared, laying you down gently. He pulled your dress off of your body, eyes glazed over with hunger as he took in your half-naked body. His fingers played with the line of your panties, drawing circles along your pelvic area before lingering over the wet patch that soaked through the material.

He chuckled, seeing your body squirm from his touch before he palmed over your clothed pussy. “You’re so wet for me, mama. How long have ya been feelin’ like this?” He questioned, sinking down to his knees as he pulled your quivering legs up to rest on his shoulders.

“Since you walked out on that stage, baby. Please just do something, I feel like I’m going to explode.” You muttered, squirming over the sheets as you tried your hardest to get him naked.

He pushed your hands down, giving you a warning with his eyes before the tearing of your panties graced your ears. “Elvis!” You screamed out, completely shocked that he had destroyed your panties.

“Don’t worry baby, I can buy ya the whole store when we get home.” He chuckled, sinking down further as his tongue licked a stripe up your slit. You shivered, gripping the sheets tightly as he wrapped his hands around your thighs to push you forward against his lips.

The sounds that left his lips were pornographic as his tongue danced against your pussy. He hummed in pleasure as his tongue tangled around your quivering bud. “You taste so sweet, mama. I can’t get enough.” He muttered against you as he sucked on your clit gently.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your lips let out moans and mewls from the pleasure of his mouth sucking your pussy. His rings dug into your skin as he pushed forward, lapping up your juices as it pooled out from the slit. The slurping and smacking noises that he made brought you closer to an orgasm before he removed one of his hands from the grip on your thigh as he pushed his index finger inside of you.

“Oh Jesus, Elvis.” You whimpered out.

He chuckled as his finger curved inside of you, wiggling mindlessly as it drugged against your tight walls. His digit hit against your g-spot repeatedly as his lips tightened around your quivering nub, your body shaking with fervor as your orgasm surprised you, crashing over you hard. You could feel your juices spurting out of your pussy, coating his lips and chin with your essence as he lapped you clean.

“Sweet like a Georgia peach, Satnin. Goddamn.” He whispered as he pulled away from you, your juices glistening on his lips as he licked you clean from his finger.

He got back on his feet shortly after, pulling the zipper down from his jumpsuit as he eyed you with yearning in his eyes. He yearned to have you in many ways, but tonight wasn’t any different.

He had to have you and if he had to go against the Colonel, he was going to do it.

As Elvis thought about how he wanted you, you laid there before him with a smile on your face as you returned the longing. You knew that he knew that you had a conversation with the Colonel, but maybe he wasn’t ready to talk about it. Who would want to talk about their manager while being intimate? Surely not Elvis. Elvis removed the jumpsuit from his body, leaving his body bare for you, his hardened length pressed against his stomach as he crawled on top of you.

“Are ya ready for me, baby? Fuck, I need ya badly.” He whispered as he lined up to your entrance, plunging deep inside of you as a shakened breath released from his lungs.

You couldn’t speak, nodding your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck before pulling him down to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his tongue, sending your soul soaring as his hips slowly pushed all of his cock inside of you. You could feel every vein that adorned his length as it rubbed against your walls gently. He pulled himself away from you, eyes darkened with lust as he began moving inside of you.

Little grunts and moans passed his soft lips as he rutted on top of you, his hands rubbing at your sides. The pleasure was different; the intimacy that was happening between the two of you was different than before. He was in love and you could see it. You returned it as your hands moved the onyx colored hair that was stuck to his forehead. His hips picked up the pace, his balls slapping against your ass as he slammed into you harder. Your body jolted from the newfound pace, holding on to his biceps tightly as you threw your head back from the pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me, baby. Such a good little girl for me.” He spoke into the shell of your ear as he continued the assault to your wet cavern.

His lips moved from your ear, his tongue dragging against your neck as he lapped up the sweet taste of your sweat that was mixed with your cherry blossom perfume that he adored so much. The skin slapping filled the room as he grunted against your skin, still pounding deep into your pussy, the tip of his cock hitting your spot repeatedly. “Oh God, Elvis. Please don’t stop!” You screamed out, digging your manicured nails into his skin.

“I’m not gon’ stop, baby. You’re gon’ limp by the time I’m finished with ya.” He pulled out of you, flipping you over on your stomach before plunging back inside of you.

He pulled you up against his chest, his hand wrapping around your neck from behind as he slammed harder inside of you. His other hand wrapped around your waist, his digits flicking your clit as he held you into his arms. Your body shivered, legs numb as you bounced with him on the bed. “You’re gonna take this fuckin’ cock like a good girl, aren’t ya?” He whispered.

“Yes, please give it to me, baby. I need you.” You mewled out in pleasure, hips snapping against his as he continued forward.

“Go ahead mama, give me one more. You have one more in ya, I know ya do. You were drippin’ wet at my show. I want ya to show me how wet you were.” He muttered into your ear as his hips snapped into your ass with rapid thrusts.

You whined as you nodded your head, placing your hand down between your legs where his hand laid. You placed your hand on top of his, moving along with his digits as he mindlessly rubbed your clit swiftly. You could feel your walls clenching around his cock, throwing your head back to lay on his shoulder as you let yourself go. You shivered, your vision blurring as your juices poured out of you, coating his fingers and the sheets as you squirted.

He chuckled, removing his hand from your pussy as he placed his fingers into your mouth. “Suck it clean, baby.” He whispered, watching with hooded eyes through the mirror that sat above the headboard of the bed as you sucked your juices off of his digits.

He removed his fingers from your mouth, pushing you down on the bed as he continued slamming his hips into yours. “Fucking. Take. This. Cock.” He roared as his fingers tangled into your locks, his balls slapping against your ass once again.

You screamed out in pleasure, clenching around his cock mindlessly as you shut your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure that you were feeling. “Oh fuck baby, if you keep doin’ that, I’m gonna fucking break into two.” He grunted, not letting up the relentless pace he had set.

You clenched around him once again, eliciting a groan from him as he picked up the pace once more. You could tell that he was close, his thrusts were becoming sloppy as he grinded against your ass. “Fuck, ‘m bout ‘ta burst baby. Here it comes.” He roared as spurts of his cum filled your walls, the warmth familiar to you by now.

Elvis grunted as his hips slowed as he continued to shoot his load into you, tugging you up by your hair. “Look at me, I want ya to fuck–look at me while I’m claiming ya.” He whispered into the shell of your ear as his hips stilled inside of you.

He pulled out of you, the spurting noise of his cum spilling out of you filled your ears. “Fuck, that was amazing, Satnin.” He whimpered as he pulled you into his arms.

Elvis stepped away from you, only for a moment to get a washcloth. It felt like forever as your legs shook from the aftermath. He returned seconds later, wiping your body clean of his cum and your juices as he kissed your forehead. “So, what is this about ya talkin’ to the Colonel this mornin’?” He asked, an amused look over his features as he pulled the cool washcloth from between your thighs before he cleaned himself off.

“I just told him that I will fight for our love and that he should stay out of our way.” You curtly replied, scooting up in the bed as you eyed him. He threw the washcloth in the laundry bin beside the door before returning to you.

“I heard, I just never thought you would be so fiery while speakin’ to him.” He chuckled, crawling into the bed with you as he pulled you into his arms.

“Well, I’m tired of him makin’ me feel like I’m invalid. I’m your woman, Elvis. Eventually, we will be married. It’s time for him to respect me.” You whispered, nuzzling into his chest, playing with the necklace that rested on his chest.

His ring clad hand caressed your arm as he listened to you, nodding slightly before looking down at you. Elvis wasn’t upset, he was far from it. In fact, the reason that he was so eager to get into bed with you was because he was turned on by the fact that you stood up for him. He knew how independent you were and that you weren’t easily convinced about allowing the world to know that you were his, but he adored how you took the change in stride.

“There will be a lot of changin’ once we head back to Memphis, mama. First, we need to start plannin’ the wedding. You’re more than qualified to become Mrs. Presley. It’s time for everyone to know that too.”

You smiled, nodding your head as you tilted your head back up to look at your fiance. “Let’s get some sleep so we can be ready for the trip home. Once we get back to Graceland, we can talk about the wedding.”

The next morning, you were all packed and ready for the return to Memphis. As Elvis handed your bag to Red, you noticed a smile that crossed his lips once he noticed that you were glowing. “Someone had a wonderful night, I presume?” He chuckled, earning a glare from Elvis as he pushed him towards the plane.

“It’s none of ya business, ya son of a bitch. Just get her bag situated on the plane.” Elvis grumbled, eliciting a giggle from you as Red rolled his eyes before walking away from you.

“Don’t be mean, it was Red who helped me find the Colonel.” You playfully swatted at him, smiling as Elvis shook his head at you.

“I see one of my men could help ya out better than me, hm?” He chuckled, taking your hand as he led you up the stairs towards the jet that awaited the two of you.

“Wait, let me get one last look before we leave.” Elvis turned to face you, his brow raised as he watched you take in one last deep breath of the Hawaiian air before you turned your back towards the beautiful island that was your home for the last couple of days.

“We will be back, baby. I promised ya.” Elvis smiled as he let go of your hand, waving at the fans who were watching him board.

“I know, honey. I know you did.”

For the first time in your life, you could thank Hawaii for giving you the strength of fighting for your love. Your heart wouldn’t give up until you had your rightful place in his life without the intrusion of his slimy manager. Until the next time that you would grace the beautiful island, you could only hope that you would return as Elvis’ wife.

taglist: @lindszeppelin @loving-elvis @lovininapinkcadillac @thatbanditqueen @softsatnin @beeandheroddobsessions @prayerstopresley @generoustreemystic @afterlovingelvis @elvis-bucket-hat @cryingabtab @rosaminny @flwrs4aust @thatbanditqueen @precious-little-scoundrel @presleyenterprise @presleysdarling @burninlovebutler @woundmetender @iloveaustinelvis @plasticfantasticl0ver @kendralavon7 @crash-and-cure @missmaywemeetagain @elvisabutler @ab4eva @flowersofcement @literally-just-elvis-fics @dre6ming @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @rjmartin11 @oh-my-front-door @rainydayz101 @ccab @chasingwildflowers @peaceloveelvis @elvispresleyisfit12 @mooodyblue @18lkpeters @galaxygirl453 @coolgirl462 @prompted-wordsmith @memphis-mania @marriedtopresley @elvisgirl35 @foreverdolly @venus-haze @austinsmutler @elaaronpresleysgirl

[siriuslysirius05]

Not His Son

Look, Tom knew that Bradley —Rooster, these days— wasn’t his son. Hell, he wasn’t even Maverick’s, a fact Bradley made very, very clear when he left that night. Ice remembers it like it was yesterday; Bradley had received a letter from USNA telling him that his application was, for whatever reason, pulled successfully. He’d approached Maverick with the subject, quickly blowing up at his godfather/adopted father once the truth was revealed. Pete Mitchell had pulled Bradley Bradshaw’s Naval Academy application. He left in a fury, shouting awful things that Tom knew Maverick dreamed about every night.

“You aren’t my dad. You never were. I hate you. I wish you died instead!”

Tom also thought of those words often. They were sharp thorns in his heart, haunted his every breath. Bradley was right, they weren’t his parents. And while they might have raised him, Iceman and Maverick were nothing but a heavy, burdened memory Bradley despised.

That didn’t mean they stopped caring. Especially now that Ice was a three star admiral, and Bradley was a full-fledged naval aviator. Hell, he was attending TOPGUN (at Ice’s secret referral). He was a grown man, an independent and strong man. He didn’t need Maverick, he didn’t need Iceman.

It didn’t stop Ice from keeping an eye on him, though. With his admiral status, Ice had the files of every single naval flight officer at his fingertips. Most of the time, Tom used the files to recommend squadrons and put together missions, but…

He still worried about the kid.

In actuality, it wasn’t all that often that Tom checked on Bradley. Every few months, and he usually didn’t tell Maverick the updates with the knowledge that his husband —they’d gotten married without Bradley there, but they did send an invite that went unanswered— would be hurt knowing Bradley was doing well without him. And that wasn’t narcissism or anything on Pete’s part; Bradley was, in all ways but blood, Pete’s kid. He always would be, even if the only surviving Bradshaw never spoke with him again.

It was Bradley’s second week at TOPGUN, and he was doing well. Top of his class, in fact. It brought both joy and a strange feeling to Ice’s chest.

He’d passed Bradley in the hallways of the air base several times in the past weeks, and every time he gave the man a warm smile. One of the other admirals on base, a two star by the callsign of Cyclone, teased him about the sudden appearance and disappearance of warmth on his face every time he was in the same general area as his kid.

Not his kid.

Today was a particularly bad day for Tom. His husband was stationed overseas and had been for the last month and a half, and Ice was missing him dearly. Plus, Ice had nightmares about Hop31 (better known as ‘the accident’ around Maverick, who flinched anytime ‘hop’ and ‘31’ were in the same sentence) and Goose’s death the night before.

Seeing Bradley strutting through base, a funky-pattern Hawaiian shirt on and wearing a pair of aviators, his 70s-pornstache perfectly groomed, was just salt in the wound. His (not) son was a spitting image of Nick Bradshaw, identical even in the walk. Goose always loved to strut and peacock about, showing off whatever shirt he had on.

Tom had tried to approach Bradley, just to say something. Hi. I miss you. Pete misses you. Anything, just to hear the young man’s voice. Would he sound like Goose? Bradley was raised in California, so he didn’t have the southern twang that Goose had, but maybe…

Bradley glared at Ice when he got near, turning and walking away. His friends, who Ice recognized as Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace and Reuben ‘Payback’ Fitch, looked confused as they snapped to attention. Tom sighed, smiling sadly at the kids before turning to walk the other direction.

Later that day, Ice was watching the skies. His mind overlayed memories of Hop31, how *well* it was going, with the planes flying overhead. He knew who was up there right now. He knew that the F/A-18 that just barreled through the sky was none other than Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw. Pride and guilt filled his chest, and he was suddenly overcome with emotion. Emotion he didn’t deserve to feel, because Bradley was not his son.

He turned away from the window, eyes wet.

((Story based on the short sketchy drawing I did in an hour or so…the uniform is probably very inaccurate just bear with me please))

[hero-israel]

Something I need to just vent: I'm half Jewish and half something US leftists have no trouble understanding as oppressed. I feel like I'm being torn in two. First there are the people from my non-Jewish half, which is, yeah, really fucking antisemitic. There's the garden-variety "fucking kikes deserved it" shit, but I am also fucking drowning in "well obvs we stand w/ the Palestinians" version that went to college, skimmed Fanon, and thinks every struggle is exactly the same. And they all want to pretend the rampant anitsemitism they were all raised with doesn't feed into it, but of course it does. These big name Twitter users of my bg pretty it up with blah blah decolonization isn't a metaphor, but they will never say the whole truth, which is that they visit home and break bread with parents who just say Jews are Satanic pieces of shit with their whole chest. Then there's my fucking idiot white friends who parrot it all. They don't know what's being carefully hidden from them, and if someone showed them, they'd bend over backwards to insist it was somehow totally justified. They know who the Good Guys are, and obviously it's not those loud, greedy, cruel Christ-kil-oh oooooops, I mean Israelis!!! And they're just rushing to like and retweet what the idiots from my other half have to say. They don't question why their pet issue isn't, say, Hawaiian independence, which they might have some weight in as Americans. They don't wonder why they don't give as much of a shit about tribal sovereignty. Hating Jews -- oops, Israelis! -- just feels somehow so much more satisfying and righteous, and whooo could possssibly say why? Definitely not those vicious settler colonialist Jews who just see Jew-hatred everywhere for SOME crazy made-up reasons. And I'm just here, alone. I don't want to act like my non-Jewish half has it easy; it doesn't. But on the left, at least there's like .... the *etiquette* of people pretending to support us, to sit down and listen, to acknowledge they probably have biases. But Jews....everyone just fucking hates us. All my life, I've felt the pressure from gentile people on the left (which is dominant where I'm from in MA) to only care about my gentile half, to only identify with it. I resist it every day, but it's so. hard. A secret I can only whisper here: Both my sides struggle. But I'm only ever truly afraid for my life as a Jewish person. That's the one that feels like it could get me killed. That's the one that I feel tempted to hide. I wear my chai, but sometimes, when I'm on the T and someone seems like they're staring, I panic and want to hide it. Maybe I'm wrong. But I know there's a significant chance I'm not. Especially when they're clearly from my other half, I know exactly what the fuck they're thinking. And I have nowhere to say it, except a stranger's askbox. Am Yisrael chai, motherfuckers.

I very much hope you stay safe, and am sorry you feel so unsupported by your friends.

I know what that is like. None of my actual goyische friends have said anything hostile, but most of them haven't said anything at all. I know it sounds minor but the days and days of posts of Mr. Rogers saying to look for the helpers, or Gandalf saying nobody wants to live through these times, the usual rounds of virtuous signals, are unmissably absent. And the friends-of-friends are pure violent garbage, which makes me wonder if my friends would have hated and rejected me as a Jew if they'd met me for the first time now and not when we were kids. Have had MULTIPLE friends-of-friends declare that the Israeli civilians weren't civilians, they were colonizers who can't be civilians and who all deserved it ("it" to include rape and infanticide). Every last one of those friends-of-friends are white Americans.

Please keep wearing the chai.

[sleepingdeath-light]

s/o who is half hawaiian hcs ; main cast

requested by ; yesthetrashbin (09/05/23)

fandom(s) ; black butler

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; baldroy, our!ciel phantomhive, finny, mey rin, sebastian michaelis, snake

outline ; “Hi! After seeing your "mixed race hc" for Black Butler, may I pls request the main cast (of your choice) with a mixed race s/o from Hawaii? (Male or gn reader pls) I'm just self projecting rn, I was born and raised in Hawaii for a very small portion of my life but since I was a military brat, I lived in many different places. Now as an adult and living back in Hawaii, I have major imposter syndrome and for a whole year I never felt like I belonged here and ppl treat me differently for acting more haole... but feel free to disregard this request! Hope you have a good day/night!”

note ; this may not be a perfect portrayal of the reader’s requested experience as i (a) am not a part of this culture and had to do a lot of research, and (b) had to try and adapt whatever i could find to the time period bb is set in — apologies if any part of this piece feels off because of this

warning(s) ; brief references to period typical racism and feeling disconnected from one’s heritage, but mostly fluff!

Baldroy

bard tries his best to help you reconnect with your culture and heritage — namely through food and language — but he’s far from perfect and his pronunciation might just make you wince at first (he’s trying, really, he’s just also really not good with accents)

do not let this man hear about dishes like loco moco or kālua pig because he will try and recreate it for you and it will go horribly wrong — please, please, if you must, ask sebastian to oversee everything because otherwise you will be eating some charcoal (made with a lot of love and good intentions, but still definitely charcoal)

he calls you ‘ipa’ a lot, alongside his usual rotation of pet names like ‘babe’ and ‘hun’, and his pronunciation gets better and better over time — and if you comment on that improvement then he’ll get the cutest smile on his face and mention that he has ‘the best teacher’ (between you and the books he’s been studying, of course)

he practises a lot independently in the hopes of being able to impress you and your family in the future (a habit ingrained in him from his upbringing — the need to gain approval from the relatives of whoever you’re dating before marriage), but let it be known that he is struggling his way through the syntax and grammar as best he can — but of course he’ll end up coming to you for guidance when he’s truly stuck or realises that perhaps that’s not how he should be pronouncing that word (sometimes it just feels wrong, even to a new learner)

he has punched someone out cold for being cruel to you for your heritage before and he will do it again if the need arises — he has a temper and he can use it to his advantage (sometimes, anyway)

(our!) Ciel Phantomhive

he’s highly empathetic to you feeling out of place in your culture does whatever he can to help mitigate that uncomfortable feeling for you — usually by having sebastian do something or another

he uses a great deal of his sparse free time to learn the specific dialect your family uses, either from you or alongside you depending on how much you can recall, and whilst his pronunciation is imperfect the effort is definitely there (and you’ll often find him practising his annunciation and sentence structure in the late evenings between working through the startling pile of paperwork on his desk)

more hawaiian dishes and desserts are incorporated into the manor’s menu — thanks to sebastian — based on ciel’s research and your own memories of food you grew up with (his personal favourites are lomi salmon and malasada)

if you ever wanted to wear something closer in design or pattern to what you wore back home, then he’d happily commission you some garments from nina — granted they’d probably not be perfect replications of what you grew up with, but he’d make sure that they were as close as they could reasonably be

he’s not afraid to leverage his reputation, connections, and staff in order to protect you and threaten anyone who tries to make you uncomfortable or discriminate against you due to your heritage (his peers, usually) or, conversely, your disconnect from it (other members of your community back home)

Finny

finny finds everything about your heritage and culture to be so very interesting — whether that’s the food, the celebrations, the language, the clothing, or just the island that your family hails from itself (he did grow up in a lab after all, so an environment like that is one that he’d jump at the chance to go and visit)

he’s shockingly quick at picking up the spoken side of your dialect just from hearing you speak it, but reading and writing is a very different story — but he’s so very eager to learn and he wants to be able to help you reconnect with that side of your family in his own way (trying his best to start and maintain conversations in hawaiian throughout the day with you, occasionally pausing mid word to shake his head and correct his pronunciation slightly and asking you if that was right — grinning so broadly it reaches his eyes every time you let him know that he did good)

loves all of the food you grew up eating and will happily devour it and ask for a second helping — his personal favourites are the sweeter things like haupia and kūlolo but he also enjoys the more substantial/proper foods and will just eat whatever you put in front of him

doesn’t quite understand the concept of being ‘haole’ but gets deeply upset by the way you’re treated by some of the people on your island because you happened to travel a lot growing up, which in turn makes him more protective over you and clingy (likewise he gets very emotional and affectionate after someone mistreats you back in old blighty because of your heritage, apologising for how you’re being treated and angry that people could ever be so mean to someone he loves so much)

if he had the opportunity to go visit hawaii with you then this man would be in heaven, exploring the terrain and learning about all the new native plant life (even trying new fruits like lychee, papaya and pineapples, which are far too expensive for him to even consider looking at back home) — you will definitely struggle to get him indoors during your visit and he might just sleep outdoors if you let him

Mey Rin

mey rin can definitely relate to feeling disconnected from her heritage given that her parents passed away when she was young and her only exposure to anything from her home country was the gang that treated her terribly — so the journey to reconnect with your roots would be something she’d happily support you in

she’d join you in relearning the hawaiian language whilst she learns mandarin (well beyond the cusses and insults and derogatory terms that were tossed around in the gang) — exchanging terms of endearment like ‘ipo’ and ‘xīn gān’ as you each become more familiar with your own languages and each other’s

she’s happy to try any of the foods you grew up with (especially anything involving meat), but she’s not exactly the best cook and far too clumsy to be trusted in the kitchen, so you’ll have to take on most of the actual cooking — she’s happy to help fetch ingredients, though (and she’s yet to drop anything… key word being ‘yet’ but it’s a big achievement for her)

if you ever manage to scrape enough time off to go back to your home island then poor mey will be fretting and practising her hawaiian near religiously for weeks leading up to the visit (even practising to herself when she’s working) — she wants to leave a good impression on your family, after all, and is really anxious about getting their approval

she’s not afraid to stand up for you with brits or other hawaiians who try and look down on you because of your heritage and your relationship with it — she knows what ‘haole’ means and she does not like hearing you get insulted (and, as many people could tell you, she can be very intimidating when she wants to be)

Sebastian Michaelis

sebastian is the type of partner who would go above and beyond to help you reconnect (or keep connected) with your heritage even though you’re stationed an ocean away in england

he makes sure the kitchens are stocked with the ingredients necessary to not only feed the master and his guests, but to keep the taste of home close — even memorising the steps to making the perfect lau lau, poi, or haupia (amongst many other dishes) for whenever you’re feeling homesick

being a demon he also has an excellent capacity to acquire languages and dialects without having to do the same amount of active learning that humans do, meaning that he’s more than happy and able to sit and talk with you in your native language (standard or in regional dialects like the niihau dialect) or help you relearn if if it’s something you lost or never quite picked up for one reason or another

it’s not like he randomly incorporates phrases or words from hawaiian into his daily life or work, as he has no reason to, but when the two of you are talking it’s easy for him to slip into it as a more intimate and private thing for the two of you

he makes a point to help you visit your home island and family whenever possible, even at times twisting the young master’s arm to do so — ensuring that you’re able to make any celebrations, festivals, parties, or holidays that you might have otherwise missed (whether it’s a more personal gathering like a luau, or something more communal like the merrie monarch festival)

as one could expect of him, sebastian is incredibly protective over you and intolerant of any attempt to judge or discriminate against you from either side of the debate (brits for being too non-white and your community for being ‘too haole’) and will make his disapproval known in the most aggressively polite way possible (unless he can get away with actively threatening them without repercussions for you or the young master, at which point he might just outright attack the offending party)

Snake

snake is mostly a very quiet and introverted person but that doesn’t mean he’s unsupportive of you and your want to reconnect with your heritage — in fact he offers all of the support he can (using his wages to buy books, food and materials in the same styles that you grew up with just to make things a bit easier)

he knows what it’s like to feel like you don’t quite fit in anywhere and he has extremely little patience for anyone who treats you poorly for your heritage or upbringing — using his snakes and appearance to his advantage in order to intimidate anyone who even tries (he doesn’t speak enough hawaiian to know what ‘haole’ means but based on your reaction he knows it isn’t good and he doesn’t like you being called it as a result)

he’s a big fan of a lot of hawaiian dishes and will easily clean the plate whenever something is made — but his personal favourites are ahi poke and lū’au, both of which he can happily have several servings of

he’d struggle a bit with connecting with your community if you ever managed to bring him back to your island for a visit — but that’s mostly because of his natural introversion and he’s otherwise fine with following you around, helping you prepare food, celebrating holidays with you, and so on

[sercezgazety]

For all the times he thought about fucking Herbert West, Dan never imagined there would be a press coverage.

The pictures they draw in the courtroom are kinda hilarious. Herbert looks like a feral child, even shorter than in real life, unnaturally pink lips curled in a permanent snarl, and eyes ridiculously large. “The artist must have really wanted to be a gothic novel illustrator,” Herbert snorted back when they were still talking to each other. The way he said artist didn’t suggest irony, just distaste. Dan wasn’t spared from this kind of creative exaggeration either, by the way, his cheeks so hollow and circles around his eyes so dark, he looked like a skeleton in the first pictures. That was before he started stress-eating, that is, though the dark circles never go away. By the end of the trial, Dan from courtroom sketches resembles a very sad panda bear.

The moment Cornell took care of the bail — huge, but also ridiculously small, considering Herbert’s capabilities of causing harm — he apparently decided Herbert needed a makeover. He wasn’t stupid, he never told Herbert to smile for the cameras; there’s no world in which that could end well. It’s impossible to make Herbert with his speech patterns and his stare appear likeable, but Cornell did have his client memorize some lines that made him sound almost reasonable. Nothing too grand: not a word about defying God, no personal opinions on the value of an individual life in the great scheme of things. A scientific breakthrough, yes, and the methods were perhaps a bit unorthodox, but if we were to wait for the bureaucrats to find the right stamps in their desk drawers, the society would never get anywhere. The system’s rigged. Huge pharmaceutical companies have the proper resources to deal with all that paperwork and red tape, they have the money to send entire ethics committees on “scientific conferences” (the quotation marks are not performed with fingers but with a disdained grimace). Those are luxury cruises, actually, did you know? Glorified bribes. In this day and age, the little guy can do next to nothing. There’s no way for an independent researcher to act by the book and get any results. Just imagine how many breakthroughs we’ve all been robbed of by this system. And why? Because of ethical standards, as the industry would have you believe? Oh no. You see, they don’t care about progress, they don’t care about helping people or curing diseases the way the little guys do. They don’t care about us, Herbert recites, smoothly asserting himself as one of human beings. They want money. He holds his head high, and there’s fire in his eyes, the kind Dan’s grown to be wary of. One newspaper calls him charismatic.

The scientific rigor was upheld at all times during his research, Herbert tells the press, and Dan just knows he’s physically refraining from following rigor with mortis. Cornell decides that looking like an undertaker is not doing his client any favors, and finds a well-cut checkered suit in a reasonable shade of gray. Concessions need to be made. It’s wrong, it’s wrong, it’s wrong, and with the azure tie, Herbert looks so ridiculous, he might as well be wearing a Hawaiian shirt with a tramp stamp peeking out from underneath it.

“Do you know this man?” the prosecution asks Dan, pointing to this all-new, normal and respectable doctor, and Dan wants to say, no. That’s not Herbert, that’s someone else entirely. But he just nods. There’s a lump in his throat whenever he looks in the other defendant’s direction. Herbert’s doing his best not to show his discomfort with the bright colors and alien textures, but Dan knows him well enough to be aware he’s this close to tearing the clothes off.

Dan, on the other hand, doesn’t get any specific instructions on what to wear, except for ditching shirts that Ms. Rhiannon — Miss, she insists — proclaimed Byronic. There are women on the jury, she explains, but there are also husbands who don’t like their wives swooning over defendants. But besides that, be yourself.

When he puts on a sweater vest and a corduroy jacket, his lawyer claps her hands in delight. Perfect, she decrees. The ideal boy next door, no longer a paperback romance hero, oh no. Calm, friendly, reliable, one you’d want to grab a beer or a coffee with. She bats her eyelashes at that last part, though maybe Dan’s just imagining things. By the time the trial’s over, there’s no batting eyelashes at him anyway, just thirty extra pounds, gray hairs that suddenly got there despite the weird bald patches, and the humiliation of crying in front of a camera and not having any tissue. It takes him over a year to get back in shape, but it seems the liver spots are there to stay.

for angst, doomed middle aged men yaoi, and courtroom bathrooms continue reading here

(each chapter can work as a standalone, I think)

[ohtobeleah]

Pretty sure Jake would be buried next to Bob if she had anything to do with it haha 😂

Yeah I think the reader in this particular story is pretty independent. Like it’s funny to think about Jake getting panties all fucking twisted about the situation but at the end of the day I think you’d be able to calm Jake down:

“He’s a good guy Jake—“

“A good guy doesn’t fuck wingman’s sisters.” And that’s when you sigh.

“You have fucked three of my friends, one took your virginity! Don’t act all high and mighty here.” Jake takes offence immediately.

“I was sixteen! I’m a guy! I dumb! You’re supposed to be the smart one!”

“I am, that’s why I like Bob and not your himbo Hawaiian shirt wearing bestie.”

Vice

[yoinkschief]

What’s your general HCs for the fellas ? (Identity, race, sexuality etc)

Whooaagh, that's gonna be a long list, I have a ton of like small headcanons for them that mean like absolutely nothing, but I'll try to keep it to a simple list

Just quickly though:

I HC them all to be generally around 27/28 and in their late 30's/early 40's during WTFuture/in the future,, there was no real way to put that in a good list with them lol

And they're all best friends - just cause they're a group of people doesn't mean they only get to have one bestie yk, they're all super close

Also Ellsworld is canon alongside Eddsworld, they co-exist with each other

Tom - Mixed Race (Black/Irish from his mom, White/American-Hawaiian from his father - Trans Masc-Nonbinary (AMAB) He/They/(sometimes)It (It/Its depends on who it is) - Bisexual (massive masculine lean) (worst taste in men EVER) - Styles his hair to look like his fathers (otherwise his hair is usually textured around the 3's,,, like 3A/3B) - Very pear shaped like his father, and hairy too lol, the alcohol certainly doesn't help with that - Wears reading glasses (later this turns into him genuinely needing a prescription,, another thing he gets from his father - he looks very similar to his mother in terms of facial features and skin tone, but has a lot of his father's aspects) - Fear of eye contact (has gotten a lot better about it now that he's an adult, but still struggles with it with people he does not like/does not know) - Autistic - 5'5" (the shortest of the ensemble) - Works at a diner while part-timing music independently - "Monster" form is man made and extremely painful to turn into (there is no way he could control it,,, in some iterations of my headcanons like in different stories there are ways that he can have like a pact with it,,, like in my Mattsworld AU (WHICH I NEED TO POST ABOUT AUGH) he's "controlled" it a bit by making a deal with it,,, of what I haven't quite figured out yet oof) - Has quite a few tattoos on him,,, (Polynesian shark teeth on his left upper arm, cyan colored harpoon tattoos on his left side, a pinup mermaid girl on his right side, and the Nordic rune for "Wolf" on his right outer thigh) - Also he inherited his anger issues from his father as well, forgot to add that earlier with the list of things he's inherited from his old man lol - Momma's boy (/affectionately, not like he can't do anything without his mom, moreso like he really loves her a lot and obviously they're very close since they both lost Tom's father that day so for a while they were all the other had to remember him by) - Tamara is his cousin from his mother's side of the family - His first friend was Edd - His mother died when he was in highschool - father when he was in elementary, it really hit him hard (it was just before his senior year and had he not done so well the years prior he would've failed HS because of it) - Diesss ???? It's like the whole "OMG they killed Kenny" bit more than anything - like if I had to describe it, he has the Loony Toons death curse, where he dies on screen but in the next panel he's fine cause no one can actually die on a kid's show, yk ? - Tons of piercings,, mostly on his face but also in other places on his body too, though it's more like two other places other than his face area - Loves Ska music obviously, but also punk and rock, thinks artists like Destroy Boys, GRLWood,

Edd - British,,, and probably has some Italian in him somewhere, y'know like family rumors/talk of like "well I'm 1/4 Italian" or "your some odd greats grandma was Italian" that kinda thing,,, not quite sure, not curious enough to care to get some DNA test kit - Homophobic (/j) Gay, man kisser, masculine hug enjoyer, he holds hands with other boysss - On the AroAce spectrum, not really a hard no on either, just more of something he doesn't think about on a day to day basis nor really care about unless the thought is put in his head - Moles scattered across his body (not many, just one or two here and there - and none that are particularly bad or harmful) - Wears reading glasses (more specifically blue light glasses cause he's looking at a screen all day every day) - The only one of the gang that doesn't have any genuine mental disorder,,, he's got his problems sure but he's neurotypical through and through - His problems being main character and plot armor - More seriously though he has a raging hero/savior complex that gets him into a lot of trouble at times - 6' even, second tallest of the group - Very apple shaped,,, when I draw him I think very round thoughts if that makes sense - Had a major emo phase in highschool,,, he kinda snapped out of it during Senior year, or rather the summer leading up to it, but man it was wretched LOL - A child of divorce (they still made it work for him - it wasn't like they fought or it was a domestic abuse thing, they just fell out of love with each other and couldn't stand being in the same house anymore, but they love Edd so they made it work for him the best they could) - Works as an animator - professionally and freelancing ! Hard fucking order but he LOVES they process of creating art, seeing the end result is so gratifying to him and being able to see all the love and attention he put into it - Has a Youtube channel where sometimes he reviews animated movies/shows/shorts - he doesn't update it a lot, it's like a "if I feel like it" cause he only does Youtube as a hobby and as a place to hold his animation portfolio - His first friend was Matt, they've been friends since like diapers - REALLY really good friends with Tord - doesn't really know why but they are like bound by the hip - He's only got ear gauges - he doesn't try and stretch them a ton like Tom does, he's fine with just normal sized gauges that don't stretch his lobes all that much - Has a VERY BROAD music taste, anything from Lemon Demon to Oingo Boingo, to PinkPantheress, to Joey Valence & Brae, to Weird Al,,, anything under the rainbow of music genres he's probably heard one song from each - PowerEdd is canon still !! Not the superhero, but the powers he and Eduardo now suffer with lol,, but they're not really potent, his body chemistry is just kinda fucky now cause of it,,, bro glows in blacklight and sometimes just in general

Matt - British/French,,, basically he's incredibly white - Pansexual (he used to also be GenderFluid in my headcanons,,, but in the past year or so I've decided against it - he's more of just a guy who likes makeup and to wear dresses more than anything else) - Ginger with freckles, they cover his body in splotches mostly, but he's got a few individual ones here and there on his body as well (they've clustered around his face, hands, elbows, shoulders, hips, knees and like two separate patches on his back) - His hairstyle has changed so much with me over the years and it's my own damn fault lol, I don't draw him enough but that most comes with the "I don't wanna draw him wrong" thing but if I don't ever draw him how will I draw him right ?? It's a cycle is what it is - The only one with prescription glasses since middle school - he just wears contacts instead, he HATES how he looks in glasses - his parents had him get LASIK surgery to correct his vision,,, since then - His personal account where no one (except like the gang) knows it's him is very unhinged, he says some devious shit on there (it's a public Twitter account) - Also Autistic, but in a DRASTICALLY different way than Tom is, they're like opposite sides of the spectrum (Tom doesn't mask often, Matt masks like all day every day, Tom can't make eye contact, Matt makes intense eye contact, that kinda thing yk,,, even despite the fact they both have texture issues they have very different issues with textures - also Tom was very early diagnosed and Matt only got diagnosed after Tom kept pestering him to do so) - He's some kind of narcissist, just haven't been able to really pin point it down yet,, I need to do some more research on it - this could change in the future because of that so this is like a maybe canon - His father left him when he was very young like maybe 5-8 range, and his mother married his step father WAY too soon after, him and Matilda is his step sister (He HATED her at first, she tried to be very kind to him cause they're the same age and everything, and this is the first time she's had a sibling, but every time Matt looked at her all he could see was his father leaving him,,, it took until after college for them to actually grow closer as siblings and friends) -6'1" just an inch above Edd - Edd was his first friend - they've been through thick and thin together, they comforted each other when both their parents divorced, so obviously they've got a bit of a trauma bond through that, and are really the only ones who understand that kind of issue - at least in their eyes - Twink. Through and through. Despite being partially French he's got very back luck with growing hair on his body, and when he does it's thin and very lightly colored - Works as a model and "social media influencer",,, basically he's a walking propaganda poster - Has earrings, mostly wears a lot of gold - Doesn't like listening to music often,,, this hurts me to write as someone who can't NOT listen to music, but he just doesn't have a music taste,, I've mentioned before how he listens to some female rappers and other song artists like Mitski and Girl in Red, but that's only because he's listened to them on like the radio or had someone else recommend them to him, he doesn't actively listen/search for music - Still a vampire,,, er, really just half vampire ?? I'd like to think they lads did a séance of some sort on him and for the most part it worked but like Edd his chemistry is still a little fucked cause of it, y'know ? Like he's still got pointed ears and teeth, can't really do much about that, and a BIG craving for red meat and the like, but he can survive without a constant need for blood, and his skin was already sensitive to the sun anyway so there's nothing really new there

Tord - Just a Norwegian fool - Trans Masculine (AFAB) He/Him - Bisexual (with a MASSIVE fem lean,,, he IS the bad taste in men) - His hair ? Yeah that's natural - he's got some WICKED cowlicks,,, when he was younger his mom would try to brush them back to make him look more normal, but even when his hair was longer it didn't really do much for him - ADHD haver, VERY late diagnosis and still doesn't really believe it, but that's a whole lot to do with misinformation of negative dumb jargon shoved down his throat - Narcissistic Personality TRAITS, not the disorder, but TRAITS of the disorder (as in he doesn't actively have the mind set and intentions of people with NPD, but he does have the mannerisms and habits of one,, but that's because of how he was raised by two Narcissists - it's a damn miracle he doesn't have the disorder, but either way he's gotta go to therapy about it,,, and he will,,,,,, eventually,,,,,,,,, after you drag him there by his hair but I mean he'll be there) - Tattoos on him as well (Left shoulder to a half sleeve of a snake, tramp stamp of Ouroboros, and between his shoulder blades beneath the back of his neck is Jason Voorhees' mask) - Can not regulate or understand his emotions,,, the only way he really knows how to deal with intense emotions of any kind is through very physical and aggressive means,, it's why him and Tom get into so many spats, but mostly cause Tom doesn't put up with his bullshit as someone who is very good at reading and understanding his own and others' emotions - Bro's got a very broad chest,, he's like incredibly male passing, even before having gone on Testosterone - Redditor. Sorry I don't make the rules except I do and he's a Redditor. - Also has an Instagram account and it's all thirst traps,,, and I'm torn between how much interaction he'd get on them,,, like I wanna say he gets none because he's a damn loser weebcell dorklord, but I've also seen how EW fandom craves him and that makes me think that this would be no different, ykwim ?,, sigh,, realistically speaking he would get a lot of interaction with his posts and I hate that for him I hope something bad happens to him - Technically Tom was his first friend (??) in the sense that Tom was the first person he met in highschool and was the one he talked to the most during then,, at least when Tom's life was stable, it gets kinda iffy after Tom's mom died and that's where the first part of their rift really started - But him and Edd and SUPER close, despite Tom being his first friend, Edd and him just click REALLY well - Has a similar death thing like Tom, except his is more of like the anime death curse - if he dies off screen, no the fuck he did not, he is coming back as the villain - LOVES Twenty One Pilots, favorite band of all time, usually he's not a die hard for a lot of things, but TOP is one of them, he also likes poprock/poppunk, things like that, think like Imagine Dragons and Mindless Self Indulgence (YES THEY'RE TERRIBLE I KNOW, LOOK AT WHO'S LISTENING TO THEM AND GET BACK TO ME ABOUT IT) but he also listens to hyperpop like S3RL and Machine Girl, but that's just cause of all the base it usually has - that's like background music for him to work to

That's pretty much all I can think of off the top of my head of just general thoughts for them,,, I'm sure I could think of more specific ones but then we'd be here all day

[freehawaii]

HAU`OLI LĀ KU`OKO`A

[imagine-little-things]

Early Sunday Mornings ¦ Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Just imagine...

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x girlfriend!reader

It’s Sunday morning as you open your eyes. There’s light coming from the window. You can hear the rain hitting the glass. It’s not the only sound that you can hear though. There is a soft snoring coming from right next to you. Sometimes you wake up and feel like you’re still caught in that dream you were just having. You regularly dream of a pilot. The pilot that somehow managed to make his way into your heart and your brain. Until the present day you don’t know if it was the smile or silly jokes, maybe even that weird Hawaiian shirts that made you fall in love with him that fast. Maybe it was just all together?

However, there he is, laying right next to you. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw is laying next to you on his back. His naked torso resting between your mattress and the blanket that covers everything from the hips down. After last night’s activities you didn’t bother to get dressed again. Why though when he loves to cuddle you all undressed? Skin to skin is what he loves to do the most. Of course, you would never ever complain about that.

With a smile you move closer, laying your head on his shoulder carefully. You try not to wake him up as you scoot closer to your still sleeping boyfriend, but you need to feel him close again. The hours of sleep that separated you two have been too many. How cheesy, right? Still, you can’t get enough of him. You need to touch him, you need to breathe him in, and you need to feel that all this is indeed real.

As you are caught up in your thoughts about how much you adore the man next to you, you don’t notice him shifting a little bit as well. With a deep hum escaping his throat he moves up his arm, laying it on your back just to pull you closer to him. “Good morning honey.” He mumbles with his eyes still closed, body slowly stretching to get the stiffness out of his bones. “Good morning handsome.” You whisper and look up at him, watching his every move.

A small but yet so handsome smile spreads across his face. Oh, how he loves when you compliment him. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I didn’t mean to. I was just getting a bit cold.” You whisper as your hand reaches up, gently stroking his smooth cheek.  You love how he immediately reacts to your touch, leaning into your hand without a second of hesitation. “Don’t worry about it darling. I love waking up to you being close to me. Even more now that I realize you’re still naked.” That soft and innocent smile turns into a mischievous smirk as he pops one eyes open, making you chuckle.  

His whole body starts to move. To give him some space you lay back, only to find out what he’s doing. He moves to get on top of you slowly and you can tell that he’s still tired. After last night you know that you’re both still satisfied so what’s to come now is even better. Bradley lays down, his head slowly sinking onto your collarbone. His strong body is pressing you into the mattress as he relaxes, and his weight is giving you the comfort that you need so badly. Your arms wrap around his shoulder automatically. This is something you love. He’s strong, independent, an animal if you want so… but yet here he is, craving the comfort only you can give him with your arms around him.

Your fingers gently run through his hair, playing with those curls that show up whenever he went to bed with wet hair. With your free hand you rub his back, pressing your nails into his warm skin just gently. You can feel how he shivers under your touch. A smile spreads across your lips and you can’t help it, you have to lean in and place a soft kiss on his head. In moments like this, where no one is talking, you feel how much love you hold for this man. He’s the one you want to be with, stay with, for the rest of your life. And don’t worry, he will make sure that you two will stay together.

“I love you so much Bradley.” You whisper into his soft hair as you close your eyes again. How could anything be more perfect than this exact moment? Sunday morning and the world is alright.

[queen-breha-organa]

I am having such a shitty day I’m not gonna lie to you, I fucking hate the Fourth of July it makes me feel like shit

My people died because America wanted sugarcane. The Hawaiian Kingdom fell because America was greedy. My people still die because of American greed. My family dies because of American greed. Tourism kills, the American occupation kills.

Independence my ass.

[nobodysprincess]

“This is how colonialism works. It convinces us that the fallout from resistance is entirely our fault, that the immoral choice is resistance itself rather than the circumstances that demanded it.” — R.F Kuang, Babel

Resistance does not happen in a vacuum.

Resistance, rebellion, protests, marches, demonstrations, and boycotts all happen in response to injustice.

When you know the context, your humanity should pull you to come out in full support of the Palestinians.

If, after reading this whole post, or even half of it, if you are not emotionally moved or heartbroken by the oppression … I don’t even know what to say.

•

•

When Native Americans fought for their land, the white people called them “savages” while the emigrating thieves were “civilized” and considered themselves “victims.”

Mandela’s ANC (African National Congress, a liberation movement known for its opposition to apartheid) was considered a terrorist organization by the oppressors.

The Philippines were colonized by the Spanish for 300 years, then by Americans and then the Japanese. Their historical liberation movement was called “terrorism.” (And the League of Filipino Students stand with Palestine.)

The Hawaiians’ land was stolen. It’s a resort. Whenever you see it in stories (movies, tv shows, books), it’s for when the characters go there on vacation; and their culture gets warped, exaggerated, mocked, purposefully misunderstood, and also sexualized. But in reality, even til this day, indigenous children are punished for speaking their native language in school. Their language and culture is nearly extinct. All Hawaiians should be able to speak their language, not just a percentage of them. Even if you can’t relate, at least you can dig and bring up your compassion and empathy to the surface. Is it wrong to be angry about this? Is it wrong to fight back against colonialism and imperialism and capitalism?

Korea had their own independence movement and liberation army. It lasted decades. Yes, they used violent attacks. You wouldn’t have all those beautiful K-dramas to watch on Netflix, if they didn’t literally fight for their freedom.

India, too.

When Palestinians fight back against the oppression, they’re called “terrorists.”

These people are subjugated. It permeates every waking moment of their life. The Israeli colonizers who would call themselves ‘victims’ are the same people who “control the most simple and basic elements” of Palestinian life.

Read that again.

“We basically control the most simple and basic elements of life.” — Ori Givati, former Israeli soldier, speaking up about the occupation of Palestine.

With context, it’s a thousand times more chilling. But even without it, especially if you can relate to being controlled over everything by a bigger but terrible person while growing up, that sentence alone is heartbreaking.

But it shouldn’t take that sentence for people to realize that that’s what it’s been all along since 1948. You just need to open your eyes and see how they, the Palestinians, are treated.

The Palestinians’ water wells were cemented by Israeli soldiers, to stop them from getting clean water. So, forget the Israeli government turning on a simple switch to allow water from their pipes – ‘cause the Palestinians can’t even get fresh water on the only strip of land they have!

How can anyone defend or justify that?

Also, the millions of olive trees that had lived through generations (and it takes years for a new olive tree to produce anything) were destroyed by the Israel occupation since 1948. Now why would Israel destroy olive trees? Olive trees have a very special significance throughout the Middle East. Olive trees are important to Palestinian culture and heritage.

But Israel still continues to burn or destroy agriculture (aside from the bombs destroying it), they never stopped.

Gazan fishermen cannot even fish freely, there have been limits to how far out in the water they could go.

From the words of a Palestinian woman who works in a border school affiliated with the UNRWA (United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East, established in 1949), translated to English:

“Fishermen are hunted at sea and they're falsely accused of getting close to the border. The fishing area keeps shrinking that they now have a tiny area from which they can make a living.”

Full post is here. For heaven’s sake, it takes a year to even get an item that they order from the Internet finally delivered, and even then it’s not a guarantee. The Israeli soldiers won’t give it to the purchaser if it’s dual-use.

Diving goggles are classified as dual-use, so the woman (who wrote the post I just linked) wasn’t able to get them. DIVING GOGGLES!

Where is your humanity?

If you are so desensitized to the gravity of this happening to 2 million people in the year 2023, and if you see all the deaths as just a number, and these numbers are just a statistic to you … I don’t know what I could say to make you understand.

How about the words of a Native American who visited Palestine in the past, and said it reminded him of his home in the U.S reservations? The United States government stole native land hundreds of years ago, and life in reservations are still so bad that this person felt at home in Palestine. THINK ABOUT THAT!

Go ahead, try and tell me Israel isn’t an apartheid that’s even worse than Nazi Germany, or the U.S. genocide of Native Americans.

This occupation has been going on since 1948! Gazans need a permit to enter West Bank (which is often denied to them), and there are checkpoints on every street. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

Even when you finish reading this post, it doesn’t showcase half of how much oppression there is.

•

The Israeli government “control the most simple and basic elements of life” there. That was a quote from one former Israeli soldier.

Here’s another former Israeli soldier, speaking up against the occupation, (Eran Efrati):

“I was broken. I felt like I was the terrorist. And my job was literally to scare people so they cannot think about acting against the Israeli settlers.”

“Very early on, I understood that the rights that the Jewish settlers have are not the rights that the Palestinians have.”

“I understood that I cannot touch a Jewish settler if he is attacking a Palestinian.”

“So (these) Jewish settlers that live in Hebron are living under the same rights that I live in, in Jerusalem. But the Palestinians next to them, next house over, next building over, or sometimes next apartment over, lives under my rule, my military rule.”

“And I can do whatever I want with him.”

By the way, this is Stage 3 of the 10 stages of genocide: Discrimination. The Stage 2 is Classification, and Palestinians are a separated group under Israeli law.

Here’s the link to the video.

And a former Israeli Air Force pilot, Yonatan Shapira, said this:

“I was a captain in Israeli Air Force, I was a helicopter pilot and I realized during the 2nd Intifada what Israeli Air Force and Israeli military doing is war crime, terrorizing population of millions of Palestinians.”

“As a child in Israel, you are being brought up in very strong Zionist militaristic education. You don’t know almost anything about Palestine, you don’t know about the Nakba, 1948, you don’t know anything about ongoing oppression.”

Here’s the link to the video.

•

As of October 30, 2023, Israel has wiped out 881 families. Lineages. Bloodlines. This means 30 to 80 persons in EACH FAMILY.

On October 17, that number was only 47 bloodlines.

« Gaza, Oct. 29 (Petra) - The death toll from the war on Gaza has reached 8,005, including 3,324 children, 2,062 women, 460 elderly people, while 1,870 people were reported missing, including 1,020 children, according to the Ministry of Health in Gaza.

The ministry spokesman said the Israeli occupation has carried out 56 massacres in the last several hours, killing 302 Palestinians. Most of the victims were moved to the southern parts of the Gaza Strip, which Israel claims are safe zones.

He added that 116 medical staff were killed, 25 ambulances were destroyed, and 57 health facilities were targeted, pointing out that 881 families were lost as a result of the occupation's purposeful targeting of them. »

And if you don’t believe these numbers, because you’d rather believe Israel – guess what? Israel is keeping score, and published it on their Channel 14 news channel with rising numbers. Israel are genocidal maniacs. It’s not my fault you refuse to believe what your eyes can see.

UPDATE

As of November 25 of 2023, the number of deaths reached 20,000. The number of children among them are 8,176.

•

“We must learn that passively to accept an unjust system is to cooperate with that system, and thereby to become a participant in its evil.” — Martin Luther King, Jr.

“Nice people made the best Nazis. My mom grew up next to them. They got along, refused to make waves, looked the other way when things got ugly and focused on happier things than “politics.” They were lovely people who turned their heads as their neighbors were dragged away. You know who weren’t nice people? Resisters.” — Naomi Shulman

•

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•

And along with Israel bombing the Palestinians using the internationally-banned white phosphorus—!

It is so violent in its destruction, and, I repeat, it is prohibited under international law! Of course, you’d think that violating the Geneva Convention would result in heavy consequences, but imperialist governments not caring and getting away with anything is a different topic.

It is so wicked, I can’t—

Even if you don’t care about a massive loss of human life, the phosphorus effect on agricultural lands are devastating and lasts for years. It still makes people sick and nauseous with no apparent signs of injury on the plants.

And all the mushroom clouds after those CONSTANT bombs drop on Gaza!

Even if you don’t care about the loss of human life, do you have a speck of humanity in you to care about all the pollution? At the very least?

•

How many times does the Israeli government have to be caught lying or admit to lying, before you realize they can never be trusted because they’re liars? They have a long history of it, too!

OPEN YOUR EYES!

OPEN YOUR EYES!

When the people had a funeral for American-Palestinian journalist Shireen Abu Akleh, the Israeli police kicked and beat the mourners who were carrying the casket.

Is it any wonder that there are former Israeli soldiers and pilots who stopped supporting their government because they felt like terrorists, and realized it is Israel who are the terrorists?

Look at this!

•

It is also NEVER a normal time to say “I’m a little bit fascist,” whether it’s 2000 or 2023…but the video in the tweet below is from 2009. This is an Israeli woman saying, “I’m a little bit fascist.”

Imagine thinking this is normal to talk that way. Imagine thinking fascism is, in any way, good or beneficial.

•

The Palestinians in the Gaza Strip do not have basic human rights.

If you value having your human rights, do not turn a blind eye to Palestine.

Their access to the outside world, via WiFi and the Internet, is the one and only way they can spread awareness of what’s going on.

No government should have the power to turn off water and cut electricity and telecommunications.

Collective punishment is a war crime under international law, a crime on humanity that could easily be done to you. You think you’re safe in your country? Every protest and demonstration or march (on any topic, really) is met with the same brutal police treatment. What’s to stop them from going all out, the moment they get the government’s green light? I remember military vehicles coming out in force during the BLM protests. Many people are permanently blind and/or disabled from the tear gassing and the rubber bullets.

•

You cannot justify indiscriminate bombing on a densely populated SMALL area. It’s never right, but think about this…

The Gaza Strip is 139 square miles.

Detroit, Michigan is also 139 square miles.

Detroit only has less than six hundred thousand people in their population. The Gaza Strip has two MILLION.

Religious buildings, universities, hospitals … bombed, all under the excuse that “terrorists” were hiding there.

The same exact excuse Israel used to justify bombing a school in Egypt in 1970, it is not new and not exclusive to Gaza. They always use the same tactics.

•

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•

What I’m sharing here is pretty much everything I’ve shared (and then some) about the occupation and genocide against Palestinians. So, pardon me if it’s not cohesive, because it’s not really meant to be. I shared most of this just one time with somebody, and I still got hit back by that heartless lunatic threatening me to watch and “enjoy Israeli retribution.”

It’s bad enough seeing it in the comment sections on YouTube or Twitter; it’s even more mind-boggling to have it spoken in direct response to me in my attempt to appeal to what little speck of humanity they have left, so I don’t make a habit of speaking up.

•

•

Palestinians are Arabs. Arabs are Semites.

If, for some asinine reason, you support Israel on the genocide they’re committing right now against Gaza, and you still want to call me an anti-Semite … then you should know that a former Israeli minister of education said (nonchalantly) back in 2002 that they always use that label as a trick on anyone who criticizes the Israeli government.

And a former Israeli Mossad agent, in 1995, said that labeling someone an anti-Semite is one of the ways he silenced critics. They know you’re not an anti-Semite, but they will label you as such to discredit you.

Victor Ostrovsky: « But I know what they do ‘cause I used to ask them to do it. When I was in the Mossad and we had a guy that gave us problems in the U.S., and he was speaking out and he was talking like people talk once and said, “Israel is bombing Lebanon with cluster bombs,” we say, “Hey, who’s that guy?” you know? ‘Pete Macockey,’ we used to call him. Yeah, which is Pete the Cockroach, ‘cause he makes a lot of noise and you can’t get rid of him. So, what you do is you get in touch with a guy in the station in New York or in the station in Washington and tell the guys in B’nai B’rith to label him. And, of course, the campaign starts, and before you know it, the guy is labeled. And he’s ‘an anti-Semite’ because that’s what we say he is. It shames me as a Jew to tell you that. But that’s the fact and it’s wrong. »

It SHAMED him as a Jew to say that this is what his government does. This is what Israel does!

The same thing happened in Nazi Germany – it was illegal to even mock Adolf Hitler, or talk badly about the Nazi regime. It’s the same thing regarding CPC, Chinese citizens will have their online posts deleted if they criticize China. And it’s the same with North Korea, it’s actually worse than China – they cannot even consume foreign entertainment if it’s not sanctioned by their government.

If you criticize Israel, their government will silence you by slapping on the “anti-Semitic” label onto you.

As Shulamit Aloni said, “It’s a trick, we always use it.” Thank you for exposing yourselves!

If you’ve reached all the way down to this part of the post, and anything I’ve typed out hasn’t moved you emotionally at all, you should stop calling yourself pro-climate and pro-life.

And look!

It’s there for all to see.

We don’t even have to expose Israel’s black hearts, they’re doing that all on their own.

We literally just have to point this out. The rest is up to you.

Imagine Russians doing this about Ukrainians!

Is this who you want to defend? “God’s chosen people” mocking cultural attire, comparing Palestinians to dogs, dehumanizing them, degrading their deaths, laughing at mothers losing their children.

Is this the hill you want to die on? IS THIS YOU?!

The depravity!

•

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•

“Words and terminology are crucial," said Hussam Zomlot, the Palestinian Head of Mission in the United Kingdom. "From the beginning, Israel wanted to link the Palestinian people to Hamas. And then they linked Hamas to ISIS. That’s linking ISIS to what? The Palestinians.”

Article by Lemma Shehadi • October 17, 2023

———

[A thread by Dr_MianUmair1 on Twitter]

There seems to be a lot of confusion regarding the distinction between Hamas and ISIS. It is important to clarify that these are two distinct entities with different goals, ideologies, and methods.

Hamas is a Palestinian political and military organization that was established in 1987. Its primary objective is the liberation of Palestine, Hamas engages in political and social activities, as well as armed resistance against Israeli occupation.

On the other hand, ISIS (Islamic State of Iraq and Syria) is a radical Islamist extremist group that emerged in the early 2000s. Their goal was to establish a caliphate in Iraq and Syria, imposing their version of Sharia law and carrying out acts of terrorism worldwide.

While both organizations have been classified as terrorist groups by various countries, it is crucial to note that their motivations, strategies, and geographical focuses are vastly different.

Hamas primarily operates in the Palestinian territories, with a particular focus on the Gaza Strip; while ISIS was primarily active in Iraq and Syria, although their influence has significantly diminished in recent years.

Hamas, despite being a designated terrorist organization by some countries, also has a political wing that participates in democratic processes and provides social services to the Palestinian people (A reason why they love Hamas)

In conclusion, Hamas and ISIS may share the label of "terrorist organization," but they are not the same. Understanding their distinctions is essential for informed discussions about the region. 🌍🤝

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But, now, what if I told you that Israel (and the U.S., “indirectly and directly”) created Hamas?

U.S. Congressman, Ron Paul, in 2009:

“If you look at the history, you’ll find out that Hamas was encouraged and really started by Israel because they wanted Hamas to counteract Yassir Arafat [chairman of the Palestine Liberation Organization, PLO].”

“So, then, we as Americans say, ‘Well, we have such a good system, we’re going to impose this on the world, we’re gonna invade Iraq and teach people how to be democrats.’ We want free elections, so we encourage the Palestinians to have a free election, they do and they elect Hamas.”

“So, we [the United States] first indirectly and directly, through Israel, help establish Hamas, then we have election that Hamas becomes dominant, so we have to kill them.”

Hmm, so Israel-U.S help establish Hamas, playing them against each other until they get their dominance, just so Israel can justify killing Hamas and every single Palestinian? That, coupled with the former Israeli politician saying that they slap the ‘antisemitism’ label on critics to justify killing the Palestinians? Wow, Israel and the U.S. sure do sound like the evil villains here. It almost sounds like…they always planned to commit genocide! Look at my shocked face > ö

But anyway…

•

Painting Hamas with the ISIS brush has implications for how Israel is expected to fight its war with the Palestinian militant group, experts told The National.

“There is a danger in comparing Hamas to ISIS, which can indirectly legitimise disproportionate use of violence on civilians in Gaza, under the pretence of fighting terrorism,” Ms Khatib said.

Experts highlighted the US-led coalition’s war with ISIS in 2014, during which Iraqi and Syrian cities were razed, killing up to 11,000 civilians in Iraq alone and displacing hundreds of thousands more.

“The US government labelled its campaign in Syria and Iraq as 'a campaign of annihilation', so for Secretary Austin to be suggesting Hamas is the same or worse is doing little more than encouraging Israel to assume a similarly brutal approach in Gaza,” said Charles Lister, director of the US-based Middle East Institute’s Syria programme.

The 6,000 bombs dropped on Gaza in the first six days, as claimed by the Israeli air force, had already exceeded the rate of US bombing of ISIS in Syria and Iraq, which averaged 2,500 per month across 46,000 square miles," he added.

NOTE: This article is from October 17. There, Israel wiped out 47 bloodlines (which means 30 to 80 persons EACH family name.) As of October 30, 2023, that number has risen to 881 families taken off the civilian registry. Whole bloodlines, gone.

As of November 25? 20,000 were killed in total. And 8,176 of them are children.

Don’t talk to me if you support Israel, even after everything you’ve read in this post.

FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸

A focus on fighting terror would also obscure the “root causes” of the conflict.

“The narrative will be totally overwhelmed by terrorism and security. Whenever these things happen between Israel and Palestine, there is never a root discussion of settler colonialism, of occupation or dispossession,” said Chris Gunness, a former spokesman for the UN’s agency for Palestinian refugees.

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This BBC documentary takes place in 1982, years before Hamas existed. What was Israel’s excuse, then, for their massacre of Palestinians and Lebanese Shias that took place after this?

Israel bombs Lebanon and Syria. Two completely different countries. There are no Hamas there. What’s the excuse?

•

They’ve committed all the stages of genocide, and all you have to do is open your eyes.

Israel are the terrorists!

A giant with all the advantages of their size (and a world power like the U.S, the biggest, backing them and funding them) is NOT the victim.

Israel isn’t even scared of the United Nations. Think about that! Nearly five dozen U.N staff members, as of October 30, were killed in Gaza because of Israel’s bombs. And all the U.N can do is hold a service for their colleagues??? Acting as if this is normal?

•

This is Palestine, BEFORE the Israeli occupation:

Where is your humanity?

Resistance does not happen in a vacuum.

Support Palestinians. Save Gaza. Free Palestine!

You don’t need to be religious. You don’t need to be a Muslim, Christian, or Jew. You just have to be human.

[shinneth]

I really shouldn't be so afraid to post this, but this one post has bothered me enough to the point where I just had to rant about it. I won't be surprised if this post results in a lot of followers dumping my ass. There's another controversial rant post I'm gonna make soon, so I guess this is a good enough warm-up.

It does take a lot of mental gymnastics to make "Rules for thee, not for me" sound justifiable.

Two wrongs don't make a right.

Also, I don't think that equity is working out very well right now with the race-bent Snow White.

Side-note: Snow White's fucking name comes from the in-story explanation: "skin as white as snow". But that's not something we should respect right!

Just imagine the number of hopeful girls who would've been honored to have been chosen for the role of Disney's first-ever princess and would have shown so much more respect for the role and the story than this. I'd hope the social brownie points were worth it, but most people are actually seeing this lady for what she truly is.

Hell, the bigger problem nowadays is how most Disney Princesses are being given the same feminist story beats, being strong independent women who don't need no man and are also total girl bosses. Sure, just gut out the story in the name of "progression". And slowly make the Disney Princesses a "progressive" hive mind.

Also, there's the whole Nani controversy that really shows how skewed the priorities are of everyone who advocates for blackwashing established white characters.

Nani being dark-skinned isn't crucial to the story, though. Her actress is still a native Hawaiian, which is objectively the more important representative aspect of casting in a movie set in Hawaii with Hawaiian culture being heavily featured.

Look, personally I'd advocate for casting people who actually look like the characters they're portraying if these live-action remakes must be a thing.

But clearly the Hollywood execs don't agree. So this casting doesn't bother me. If anything, I find it hilarious - especially after seeing everyone throw a hissy fit over this. It showcases their hypocrisy, as these are the same people who were all "CHANGING ARIEL'S SKIN COLOR DOESN'T MATTER YOU BIGOTS". On top of that, these people are actually wishing harm on this actress, solely over her skin color.

Let me guess, though. It isn't really racism if colored people oppress and threaten and harm white people, right? By this logic, it's just a matter of ~equity~ that fair-skinned folk are subjected to the same prejudice. For fuck's sake.

Nah, let's just normalize the concept that no one can relate to a character unless said character looks just like them. Let's encourage kids to embrace narcissism and refuse to find commonalities in characters that don't physically resemble them in any way.

Because apparently it doesn't matter that I can't see myself and my mother in Tiana, even though her driven, workaholic underdog story resonates with us. But because we're not black, we're not allowed to feel a kinship. It's inconceivable for a little girl to feel that she, for what she is on the inside, can relate to a Disney Princess that she shares no physical traits with.

Maybe I'm just crazy for believing we should focus more on who we are than what we are. Maybe I'm a monster for discouraging indulgence in narcissistic behavior. Am I a bigot for rolling my eyes every time I hear a cry for "MUH REPRESENTATION"?

I like to think I'm not. But society is so heavily fucked in so many ways these days. So much that I'm actually afraid to post this publicly.

But I shouldn't be afraid to speak my mind when I see bullshit being glorified. So I'm gonna give my piece, come what may.