#Whimsical Inquiry

[fredhugesfan]

Love Amidst Worm Transformation

In the realm of whimsical pondering, envision me transformed into a humble worm – a fanciful notion, perhaps deemed absurd. Allow me to refine my inquiry: Would your affection persist if I were no longer of utility, if I veered from vows and evolved into a stranger unforeseen?

Should the roles of wife and mother elude my grasp, if household duties and intimate connections were but distant echoes, would your love endure? Amidst the shifting sands of identity, would I remain recognizable to your heart, or would I dissolve into an unfamiliar entity?

Does your devotion transcend the deeds I perform? Statistics speak of spouses departing when faced with life's adversities; ominous odds paint a disheartening tableau. I pose a question, devoid of melodrama – if, in a twist of fate, I assumed the form of a worm, devoid of contributions, would love persist?

Picture a terrarium, a sanctuary of mulch within our intimate abode. Would you, with care, mist me like a delicate bloom, nurturing my existence? Or would I be cast onto the harsh pavement of indifference? Contemplating this fanciful transformation, I imagine crafting for you a miniature haven, a domicile of popsicle sticks – a whimsical offering from a humble worm to its cherished companion.

[compassionmattersmost]

Poem: No Finish Line at the Finish Line

We start the race with mind and heart aligned,To seek the truth that’s ever hard to find.The path is clear, the way seems oh so straight,Yet round and round we go—oh, twist of fate! We run through hills of thought and streams of dreams,The finish line, not quite as near, it seems.With every step, we feel the final call,But then we find there is no end at all. The race we thought would bring us…

[cloudabserk]

op I LOVE your art it’s just so whimsical and cute and it makes me feel so happy inside…I love the way you draw characters so simplistically yet I can still tell who they’re supposed to be. it’s just *chefs kiss*

(also shameless inquiry but may I gently place gaalee at your feet for consideration)

thank u!!! and i love gaalee… no eyebrows x massive eyebrows makes perfect sense in a relationship.

[todayontumblr]

Thursday, October 26.

The Amazing Digital Circus fanart.

The circus is in town, and y'all have understandably gone bananas. That's because this is not just any circus, no, this is #the amazing digital circus, which, after just a single, just one (1) pilot episode has melted the internet's collective hivemind.

This whimsical entry into the online cartoon canon poses the question we have been agonizing to answer: "What if it was Toy Story, but everyone was a jerk?" Well, you have followed this line of inquiry, pondered it, tapped a finger on your collective chins, and responded with fervent enthusiasm—and exemplary fan art.  

[crtastrophe]

Hi hello it seems I’ve caught a rare strain of art block that makes me unable to draw in anything other than Kid Pix Deluxe 4™, but I still need to buy groceries and stuff so!! I’m gonna try my hand at some experimental commissions.

If you have some kind of whimsical OC and you want me to let me loose on them, now’s your chance! Give me a character and I will cook up something cool — there's no pose/style/background tiers, though I will try to put an equal amount of effort into every drawing.

Payment in USD through PayPal invoice only.

More info under the cut!

Inquiries through Tumblr DM or via crtastrophe@gmail.com.

You can give me some brief prompting (e.g. “I’d like a drawing of my wizard OC casting some kind of spell”, “Can you work in some robot/tech motifs?” etc.) – or give me free rein, if you’d prefer.

I will need a minimum of one visual reference of the character’s design, but the more material I have to work from, the better! Tell me about their lore, what they’re like, their associated themes and motifs, all that jazz! Show me their aesthetic moodboards, the funnie tumblr textposts you associate with them, their playlist even.

As the nature of the program makes revisions difficult, I might turn down a request if I do not feel confident that I can compose a satisfactory piece from the provided material.

Once we’ve worked out all the details, I will send you a link to a PayPal invoice. I will not begin working on the piece until payment has been recieved.

Please note that I won't be providing WIPs! I can show you my initial sketch for the composition if you'd like, but after that the end result will be a suprise.

Once completed, I will send you a link to a drive containing the resized drawing in the form of a .png, as well as the original 665 x 477 bitmap.

Once payment has been received and I have begun working on the piece I cannot refund it. However, if I for any reason have to cancel the commission from my side I will refund it fully, regardless of level of completion.

Some limitations of the program (good to keep in mind!):

No layers

One (1) level of undo

Image size: The Kid Pix 4 drawing area is 665 x 477 pixels. I scale up the final image file x4 to make it more compatible with the modern internet, but the drawing itself will still be crunchy. That’s part of the charm! (I can also make the image dimensions 1:1, if requested.)

Colors: It is possible for me to create colors outside of the palette provided by the program, but replicating hues precisely can be tricky. Expect some stylization.

Okay, I think that’s everything! Thank you for reading this far, and feel free to contact me if you have any questions <3

[princess-sof-time]

Moonie-chan is here to bring you another wild and silly request 😉✨

Could you write for Meliodas, King, Ban (Nanatsu no Taizai) and Naruto, Hinata and Rock Lee(Naruto) (if you want to add someone else its okay, i will love to read more of it!) with a S/O that has a lot of scars in their body for a past almost deadly experience but is something that doesn't bother them more, like reader had already made peace with their past so they do jokes about it casually or has the silliest and unreal excuses to explain their scars when someone askslike joking

I love your requests Moonie-chan!

🄼🄴🄻🄸🄾🄳🄰🅂

• Meliodas, the captain of the Seven Deadly Sins, looked at his S/O with a mix of admiration and curiosity. Their body bore the marks of a past that had tested their strength and resilience. Scars, like battle-worn trophies, adorned their skin, serving as a testament to their survival. However, what truly captivated Meliodas was their lighthearted approach to these marks, turning what could be seen as reminders of pain into a source of humor.

• One evening, as they sat together, Meliodas couldn't help but ask about a particularly prominent scar. With a mischievous twinkle in their eye, his S/O launched into an outlandish tale involving a daring escapade with mythical creatures. Their words flowed effortlessly, painting a vivid picture of a fantastical encounter that had left them marked but unscathed. Meliodas chuckled, recognizing the playfulness behind their words, and joined in the whimsical storytelling, adding his own embellishments to the tale.

🄺🄸🄽🄶

• King, the Grizzly's Sin of Sloth, observed his S/O with a tender gaze. Their scars, scattered across their body like delicate brushstrokes, fascinated him. He was well aware of the immense strength and resilience it took to bear such marks. Yet, what truly enamored King was their ability to embrace their scars with lightheartedness and humor.

• One afternoon, King found himself drawn to a particularly intricate scar on his S/O's arm. With a gentle smile, he asked about its origin. Much to his surprise, they responded with a whimsical tale involving a mischievous fairy and a grand adventure through enchanted forests. Their eyes sparkled with mirth as they spun a tale that left King both in awe and in stitches. Their ability to weave humor into their past wounds left him with a profound admiration for their resilience and strength.

🄱🄰🄽

• Ban, the immortal bandit, watched his S/O intently, his gaze tracing the contours of their scars. His own body bore the marks of countless battles, but the scars etched upon his S/O's skin held a different significance. These were the remnants of a past filled with near-death experiences—a testament to their indomitable spirit and unyielding will to survive.

• Curiosity piqued, Ban playfully inquired about the story behind a particularly long scar. Without missing a beat, his S/O launched into an elaborate tale involving daring heists, ancient curses, and legendary treasures. Ban's laughter filled the air as he recognized the familiar twinkle of mischief in their eyes. Their ability to make light of their scars and transform them into tales of adventure only deepened his admiration for the person they had become.

🄴🄻🄸🅉🄰🄱🄴🅃🄷 🄻🄸🄾🄽🄴🅂

• Elizabeth Liones, a gentle and compassionate soul, found herself inexplicably drawn to a unique individual. Her significant other possessed a body adorned with scars, reminders of a past brush with mortality. While these marks would evoke concern in most, the reader had embraced their scars with a lighthearted spirit, using humor as their shield.

• Their casual and playful nature, mixed with a touch of mischief, led the reader to respond to inquiries about their scars with the most absurd and outlandish explanations. When someone curiously asked about the origins of a particularly prominent mark, the reader would flash a mischievous grin and spin a tale about wrestling ferocious dragons in faraway lands or engaging in daring adventures that defied the laws of nature.

• Elizabeth found herself enamored by their S/O's remarkable ability to transform their past struggles into a source of amusement. She admired the reader's strength, both in enduring their ordeal and in finding the courage to embrace their scars with joy and resilience. Their vibrant spirit complemented her own compassionate nature, forging a bond that transcended the physical realm.

🄽🄰🅁🅄🅃🄾 🅄🅉🅄🄼🄰🄺🄸

• Naruto, the spirited shinobi, regarded his S/O with awe as he observed their scars. Each mark told a story of battles fought and hardships overcome. It was a testament to their unwavering strength and resilience in the face of adversity. But what truly amazed Naruto was their ability to bring levity and humor to the scars that once held painful memories.

• One day, as they strolled hand in hand, Naruto's curiosity got the better of him, and he playfully prodded his S/O about a particularly unique scar. With a mischievous grin, they launched into an outrageous explanation involving ninja cats, exploding watermelons, and a mishap with a particularly aggressive squirrel. Naruto laughed, the sound echoing through the streets as he recognized the playful nature behind their words. In that moment, he couldn't have been prouder of the strength and joy they brought into their lives, scars and all.

🄷🄸🄽🄰🅃🄰 🄷🅈🅄🄶🄰

• Hinata Hyuga, with her gentle demeanor and unwavering determination, found herself captivated by the spirit of her S/O. Their body adorned with scars, remnants of a harrowing past, only served to further ignite Hinata's admiration for their strength. Although the scars were a reminder of the battles fought, her S/O had made peace with their past, embracing life with a lightheartedness that was contagious.

• In the quiet moments shared between them, Hinata witnessed her S/O's resilience manifest in the most unexpected ways. Their scars became a canvas for their witty and outlandish storytelling, weaving tales so fantastical that laughter spilled from Hinata's lips effortlessly. From encounters with legendary beasts to duels with mythical warriors, their imaginative explanations left both of them dissolved in laughter.

🅁🄾🄲🄺 🄻🄴🄴

• Rock Lee, with his unwavering determination and unyielding spirit, admired his S/O's scars as symbols of their resilience. Their past had shaped them into a warrior, not defined by their wounds but empowered by them. As their relationship flourished, Lee discovered that his S/O possessed a unique ability to find humor even in the face of adversity.

• With a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, his S/O would concoct the most outrageous and exaggerated tales to explain their scars. From daring escapades atop towering mountains to epic battles against otherworldly creatures, their storytelling brought a lightheartedness that resonated with Lee's own zest for life. Together, they reveled in the joy of laughter, turning the scars of the past into badges of courage and absurd tales.

[doodle-pops]

My Sweet Kitty

Námo x reader

A/N: My first ever fluffy Námo fic since I post a bunch of headcanons for him. I know I don’t write much for the Ainur in terms of fics (apart from Eönwë), so I hope this can be a start.

Warnings: none, fluff, humour

Words: 1.1k

Synopsis: You attempt to convince Námo of his feline qualities.

“You know, for someone who has a dog, you radiate a feline persona.”

Your words lingered in the air, suspended like taut strings on the brink of snapping, as you awaited a reaction from your solitary audience. Abruptly, Námo turned his head sharply, his gaze ready to unleash a torrent of his pent–up irritation in response to your comment about his personality. While he had grown accustomed to his siblings’ jibes and prods, ever since love happened to him, this peculiar emotion he sensed in your words struck him deep. It nestled in his chest, a discomfort that resonated in his ears, a subtle insinuation that his persona was unappealing.

His gaze bore into you, his expression a canvas painted with a myriad of unsaid thoughts, as you chuckled and affectionately patted his dog’s head. Watching as your laughter unfurled as you sat on the floor for reasons unknown, he couldn’t help but perceive a certain angelic quality about you. Yet, the ache in his heart remained, uncertain whether your words were intended as an insult or a compliment.

“What,” he began, pausing to draw in a deep breath before continuing, “do you precisely imply by labelling me a ‘cat person’ instead of a ‘dog person’?” His viridian eyes remained fixed on you, the intensity of his gaze drilling into your consciousness, as he awaited your laughter to subside and for you to respond to his pressing query.

Clutching your stomach, consumed by laughter, you were lost in a fit of reliving the scene repeatedly, momentarily forgetting his looming question. Even his dog, Gorgumoth, seemed captivated, nestled beside you, basking in the ripples of your amusement and the gentle head pats he received amidst the spectacle. It took five minutes of Námo’s impatient staring and his unwavering scrutiny for you to regain your composure, wiping a tear away before offering another comment. “Oh, dear, if only you could have witnessed your expression—the way your head whipped around, I could have sworn it was on the verge of snapping!”

Unimpressed by the lack of attention and cheerfulness in your response, Námo made another attempt to seek an answer to his inquiry. “Care to elaborate on the meaning of your statement?”

“Oh?” Your surprise was palpable, as his insistence on uncovering the concealed truths behind your words caught you off guard. Typically, he would have rolled his eyes or showcased his exasperation at your whimsical antics; after all, your hyperactive and eccentric nature stood in stark contrast to his reserved demeanour. “Well, um, it essentially signifies that your persona bears resemblance to the behaviour of a cat. Interestingly, people who exhibit such traits are often inclined to prefer cats over dogs due to the shared attributes.”

Námo’s gaze remained fixed on you, his viridian eyes still piercing with curiosity and a hint of annoyance. Your explanation seemed to have made some sense to him, but he wasn’t entirely convinced. His dog, still enjoying the attention you were providing, nuzzled closer to you as if to endorse your presence.

“So, you’re saying that my behaviour resembles that of a cat?” Námo inquired, his tone slightly incredulous.

You nodded, your laughter finally subsiding as you caught your breath. “Yes, that’s the gist of it. Cats are often seen as more independent, aloof, and sometimes a bit mysterious. And, well, you do have some of those traits.”

Námo’s expression didn’t change much, though you could detect a flicker of introspection in his eyes. He seemed to be mulling over your words, possibly reflecting on how he came across to others. “I suppose I can see the similarities,” he admitted reluctantly.

You grinned, glad that he was taking it in stride. “It’s not a bad thing, you know. Cats are also elegant, and intelligent, and they have a certain air of mystery that’s quite intriguing.”

His lips twitched ever so slightly, hinting at a small, rare smile. “You have a way of turning a potentially insulting statement into something...intriguing.”

“That’s my special talent,” you said with a wink. “But don’t take it too seriously dear. It was just a playful observation.”

Námo’s demeanour seemed to soften as he leaned back, his dog now fully sprawled out beside you. “I’ll keep that in mind. And for the record, I do appreciate both cats and dogs for their unique qualities.”

You chuckled. “Good to know. So, do you think you’re more of a cat person now?”

He rolled his eyes, but the hint of amusement in them was hard to miss. “Let’s not push it.”

“Aw, come on now Námo! There’s no harm in being considered as a cat,” you playfully whined as you removed yourself off the floor and strolled over to where he sat, draping yourself all over his shoulders. Lifting your finger to bump his nose, you grinned before kissing the tip and chuckled as he lazily blinked like a cat. “You know, cats are also known for saying, ‘I love you’ when they blink slowly. Tell me, was that a confession?”

Throwing you an exasperated look that screamed ‘Don’t push it,’ he unconsciously inched his head closer to your lips. It was a routine habit of his: deny enjoying or wanting kisses while pushing his head in for more. He was indeed your feline. “I have no idea what you speak of,” he softly muttered, still inching his head closer and staring at your lips.

“You’re not as smooth as you consider yourself to be, Námo.” You chuckled. “You’re displaying all the qualities of a kitty right now—so needy for a kiss.”

Your statement was the worst thing you could say to ruin the moment, and his head jerked away from your lips, facing front. Recomposing himself after the accidental slip–up, he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and picked up his quill to resume his writing, as though nothing transpired between you two moments ago. He was indeed a kitten, getting all bashful and ignoring one’s presence after a confrontation. But you couldn’t resist dipping your head in to land a kiss on his cheek despite his low grumblings about you distracting him.

Leaning in, you whispered near his ear, “You’re more adorable than you realise.”

Námo’s cheeks flushed, and he coughed softly, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

You grinned mischievously. “It’s part of my charm. And who knows, maybe one day you’ll embrace your inner cat entirely.”

He glanced at you, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “You’re pushing it.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @sakurayaxd @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @elficially-done-with-life @eunoiaastralwings

If you would like to be tagged, click the taglist link.

[cera-writes]

First of all, you are an angel ♡

And second, me wee little heart has been nourished by my childhood crush of Nightcrawler thanks to his lovely interpretation in the X-Men 97' series.

If I may request a cute prompt of a selective mute fem! mutant reader attempting to make a sweet, first impression towards him ♡

A/N Thank you so much Anon! I try to be a great writer as far as Kurt is concerned! <3 Pairing: Kurt Wagner x F!mute reader (X-Men 97)

No Subtitles Needed

You were part of the X-Men, but you also had a small part time job at the local video store. The comforting hum of the fluorescent lights and the faint scent of popcorn filled the air, a familiar backdrop to your Friday night shift at "Rewind Reels." You weren't here to stock shelves or replace worn-out VHS tapes, not entirely. Your target was browsing the cult classic section, a figure almost swallowed whole by the towering shelves – Kurt Wagner, the Nightcrawler.

He wasn't dressed in his usual garb, just jeans and a black tee shirt. He was a regular customer, his midnight-blue fur surprisingly soft-looking under the harsh store lights. Despite his imposing stature, there was a childlike wonder in his eyes as he scanned the titles. Today, you were determined to spark a conversation beyond the usual "horror" or "comedy" aisle inquiries.

Behind the counter, a stack of old movie posters rested against the wall. You grabbed one, its faded paint depicting a whimsical scene from a classic silent film - a lovestruck couple with exaggerated expressions, their hands reaching out to one another. With a trembling hand, you scribbled a single sentence on the bottom: "Have you seen this gem?"

Taking a deep breath, you approached him, the poster held out like a nervous offering. Kurt's gaze followed your hand, then met yours. A smile, warm and genuine, spread across his face like the opening scene of a feel-good film.

"Wow, I haven't," he rumbled, his voice surprisingly soft. "This looks interesting! Thanks for the recommendation. And hey, haven't I seen you around the X-Mansion?"

You flushed, nodding, the heat rising to your cheeks. Words weren't your forte, but the silent film poster spoke volumes. He gestured to the counter, breaking the comfortable silence. "Mind if I tell you some obscure horror classics you might not know about? Maybe we could even watch them together sometime."

Hesitantly, you nodded, a silent invitation. As he launched into a detailed explanation of a forgotten B-movie monster, a comfortable rhythm settled between you. He spoke with such passion, his enthusiasm as infectious as a classic monster chasing a damsel in distress.

When he finally finished, his yellow eyes twinkled with amusement. "You know," he said gently, "sometimes the best connections are made through the magic of cinema, even if you can't quite find the words."

You met his gaze, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, this video store wasn't just a place for mindless entertainment, but the beginning of a connection that unfolded as captivatingly as any silver screen romance.

[scaranation]

༊*·˚ 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋 - 𝐈𝐈

Pairing: Yandere!Dottore x GN!reader

Content: Yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour etc. Mentions of death.

You thought that after you’d brutally rejected Zandik, it was the last you’d see of him. You foolishly thought that the two of you would simply part ways there, and you could be free to do as you pleased - but that was far from the truth. The truth was, you’d never been out of his grasp. Never straying from his sight, for the eyes of every ruin machine and akasha terminal wearer had become your ex-lover’s means of tracking you. However, the day Zandik finally snaps is the day he can no longer tolerate his jealousy.

Almost a year later, and Zandik had disappeared from your mind. Sure, you’d heard whispering of him exhibiting even more capricious behaviour in the weeks following your so-called breakup, but as you became swept up in Akademiya work again you simply didnt have the time to worry about him.

After a while however, things at the Akademiya calmed down again and you found yourself with a lot of spare time on your hands. Now, you were on vacation in Port Ormos, leisurely browsing through bustling market. The idea of recreation had never been an appealing one to you, but you soothed your guilty conscience with the promise that you’d work extra hard later on to compensate for whatever enjoyment you’d found outside of your academic pursuits. As you continued walking, you found a stall brimming with vintage automatons from Fontaine - piquing your interest as a slight smile crossed your face.

This smile was intently admired by Zandik, who, unbeknownst to you, had been watching you through the many surrounding akasha terminals. How could you be so beautiful? He could only describe what he felt as a purest admiration, admiration for the way your eyes lit up when you found something interesting, the way your cold exterior crumbled once you were exposed to the possibility of new inquiries. Zandik couldn’t comprehend why you didn’t choose him in the end, for the love he held for you was so superlative - after all, if death was a tenet of humanity and he was willing to kill for you, what purer affection could there possibly be? Now, he was simply biding his time before he whisked you back into his arms - before he made you love him like he loved you.

You looked so lovely as you lifted up a small mechanical contraption, inspecting it with whimsical curiosity. Although, when you finally tried to make the payment, you found your purse lacking - an embarrassed expression consuming your features. Zandik’s jaw clenched as he was unable to help, unable to let you rely on him in any way possible. But what made him seethe further was watching another man approach you, offering to pay.

And you smiled at that man.

The same smile Zandik deserved. The smile that he used to see; or was that a false one? Either way, your sudden benefactor began trailing next to you between stalls, chattering away happily.

Zandik swore there he had not entertained a worse feeling. He had never loathed someone with such passion as he did now, digging his nails into his palms until they bled. His anger quickly turned on you, as well - how dare you seduce him so, and then associate with another man? He had planned to give you space, plotting the instigation of some traumatic event to make you run into his arms - but this was where he drew the line. Sure, you had obviously talked to your male colleagues before, but this was different. You were laughing, reciprocating the man’s boisterous remarks. It should’ve been Zandik there next to you, chuckling and pointing out displays.

You, however, were having a great time - oblivious to the furious anger of your former, albeit experimental, boyfriend. The man who’d paid for the contraption you now held in your hand - a ‘kamera’ - was quick to introduce himself, and you enjoyed his company. He was unlike those at the Akademiya, who were always the classic picture of egotistical masculinity - always either mansplaining or manipulating.

After strolling through the port, hazy yellow light seeped into the sky as you realised the time. Through the conversations you’d shared and the array of pictures you’d taken with the man on your kamera, time has flown by, and the two of you were reluctant to part ways. Before leaving to retreat into your hotel however, the man left you some contact details. Working in Avidya Forest, he was part of the patrol there.

Not that you ever saw the man again.

-

A few days later, before you planned to return to the Akademiya, you decided to stop and visit your kind benefactor in Avidya - showing up at the address he’d left you only to find a throng of people crowded around his residence. Some were weeping, and others were murmuring amongst themselves.

“What happened?” You pushed your way through the crowd, partly in curiosity. You might not have been particularly close with the man, but you held a certain level of concern for him.

“H-he… He’s been murdered!” A villager exclaimed, as a group of rangers exited the cottage - carrying a stretcher, with the outline of a corpse beneath the thin white blanket stretched over it. You frowned. The forest was a relatively safe, mundane place - what could’ve instigated a murder, here?

The answer dug itself into you with icy claws - realisation trickling with a freezing intensity as the hair on the back of your neck raised at a familiar voice.

“Well, how do you like my present, darling?”

Zandik.

[storyofmychoices]

Whimsical Walks and Poetic Talks

Valentine's Gift #2 for the wonderful @oh-so-youre-a-nerd! @choicesfandomappreciation

Pairing: Ernest Sinclaire x Tulsi (F!MC) (@oh-so-youre-a-nerd)

Book: Desire & Decorum

Word Count: >550

Rating/Warning: General/None

Synopsis: Ernest and Tulsi take a late afternoon walk around Ledford Park.

This art of Ernest and Tulsi is by @liiyaan!

The orange glow of the setting sun bathed Ledford Park in an amber glow, its warmth welcoming Ernest and Tulsi, who had embarked on a leisurely stroll through the newly renovated garden. The bushes, shrubs, and flowers had just begun to show the first signs of life as spring began ushering in a new season, one which would hopefully allow the couple to put the troubles of the past behind them. 

Ernest breathed in the brisk, cool air settling around them as dusk threatened its approach. He marveled at the colors painted across the sky and how the rays of sunlight danced along the tops of the trees, holding onto the world around them. It reminded him of a poem he had once read. His lips curled slightly, his mouth opening, but before he could share the words of beauty in question, Tulsi had other ideas.

A whimsical query sparkled in her eyes. "If you were a flower, which one would you be and why?"

Ernest paused in his step, not expecting the question. He shook his head; he should be used to her impulsive questions. His guarded demeanor softened as their pace resumed. 

"And keep in mind, there are right answers." She teased, her step light beside him as she eagerly awaited his thoughtful reply. 

His free hand pinched the bridge of his nose, his brow furrowing as he considered his response. "If I must participate—" 

"You must!"

"I thought as much," Ernest chuckled. "Then, in response to your query, a thistle."

"Go on," Tusli encouraged, waiting for his reasoning.

"A thistle is sharp with a protective exterior," he began, watching her reaction. "Some might even describe them as prickly, and yet, they are resilient and can thrive even when faced with challenges."

"I'll allow it." She pressed a kiss to his cheek, his blush warming her lips. "In some cultures, thistles symbolize devotion, bravery, and strength. You, Mr. Sinclaire, possess all of those."

"My beautiful Tulsi, may I regale you with a poem that I am reminded of this evening?" Ernest requested, his eyes brightening at the prospects. 

Tulsi smiled softly, she might not appreciate his poetry as he did, but the way he lit up when speaking those words he held close made every word beautiful. "You may."

His attempt to begin was once more quieted by her words.

"However, as you do, consider what kind of fruit you would be and why," Tulsi added. "Oh, and you cannot say a pineapple. You've already used the prickly on the outside reasoning with the thistle." 

Ernest attempted to stifle the chuckle rising in his throat. There was no use arguing logistics with Tulsi over the questions. It would get him nowhere, and he quite liked the enjoyment she found with these inquiries. He nodded his agreement and then began reciting the poem. 

The cadence of his voice wove a tapestry of emotions, painting the air with the beauty and complexity of the poem's meaning. Tulsi listened, enchanted by the rhythm of his words and the way Ernest's eyes sparkled with passion as he unraveled the layers of the written art. 

They might not find the appeal of the same things, but the love they found in each other, and the appreciation for each other's interests they had, kept their relationship growing with every word they shared.

Thia, I hope you enjoy this little drabble of your Tulsi and Ernest. I hope I captured them in a way that fits your vision. Happy Valentine's Day!

PS-I commissioned the art before I asked about their dynamic 🙈

[astral-gamma]

Hey, really weird can't put this anonymous. Doesn't matter, I wanna ask you, can you write a Rampo x m!reader, a really lucky reader? Like, his ability is based on the luck and their probabilities. He's also a gambler, because with that ability it would be stupid not use it. Like, if Kunikida ask him for a job, he'll make a bet with Astushi, wins, and let other make the job. Pretty pleaseeee?💖

THEREEE IT IS ^^ hope youll like it !

Your unusual talent—an inherent sense of luck that defied probability—captivated Rampo, who was a sharp mind concealed behind a whimsical exterior. He found this ability to be fascinating. As the days went by, you found out that you were highly involved in the Agency's operations, with your good fortune frequently guiding their inquiries in unexpected places. Soon, Kunikida, the so-called careful tactician, began to depend on your extraordinary good fortune to tip the odds in their favor. One day, Kunikida came up. He said firmly, "We have a task that requires the highest level of caution and precision. Are you going to help us?"

You gave that request some thought, understanding the gravity of what he had said. But instead of responding directly, you turned to the unfortunate Atsushi and grinned mischievously. "How about we make a little gamble, Lil Tiger?"

You laid out the conditions of your wager with a hint of assurance. "You'll do the work yourself if I win. However, I'll be happy to take up the work if you win.The poor boy was unsure on how to respond, but he eventually gave in. "Very well, let fate decide our course." The deal was a simple card game to keep the others from being distracted from their job (and mostly to avoid being discovered by Kunikida). Nothing too complicated. The scene was so established for your gamble. The hands of fate and luck began to move with a flutter of cards.The outcome hung in the balance as the anxiety increased. But as is your way, fortune was on your side, swinging the balance in your favor with a stroke of good fortune.You went to the boy with the white hair and grinned triumphantly, watching as he nodded graciously to admit defeat. "You did well, [Name]. It appears like fortune is truly on your side." You smiled lightly in response.

With a smile, Ranpo replied, "Well, aren't you a lucky one?" as he leaned in to give you a little peck on the cheek. Atsushi got the task, giving you some well-earned time with your beloved as you both liked, spending time together, enjoying snacks and cuddles without even considering work!

[pleasanttaleswithkaityb]

The Burb Household

Spring, Year 1

In the Burb's home, the evening unfurls with gentle chaos. John deftly navigates Kody's innocent inquiries about his mother's whereabouts, spinning a tale of work and aspiration as whimsical as the bedtime stories they usually read. With the boundless wonder of a toddler, Kody accepts the tale, his imagination already painting his mom as the office hero. At the dining room table, Lucy is the portrait of diligence, her homework battlefield lying vanquished under the might of her pen. Later, as she strides through the neighborhood, Tucker in tow, she carries the easy confidence of one with her world in balance. The Burb household, a symphony of the mundane and the tender, continues its dance of daily life, each member moving to the rhythm of shared bonds and personal quests.

Previous || Next

Check out the The Beginning of the Burb’s Spring! Learn more about the Burbs here!

[7association-was-here]

//The ultimate Seven blog “#Lore?” timeline list (from oldest to latest). Posts marked with “bonus” aren’t necessarily important to the main plot but have additional information in them or just silly mini-arcs and interactions.

//Also I couldn’t get every little mini arc in here since scrolling through about 100+ posts and nitpicking them is tricky without accidentally missing one or two, so apologies if I missed a few sillies or infos here and there.

The First Hunt arc

Seven’s Tumblr Debut

L.O.L (bonus)

Cookies

Cookies part 2

Cookies part 3

Cookies part 4

SnakeHead’s ask Debut

SnakeHead’s ask Debut part 2

The Dessert Agents Debut

The Dessert Agents cheesecake incident

Faust’s Encounter

Heathcliff’s Encounter

SnakeHead’s tip

Workshop Murder

Jinx (bonus)

Heathcliffs?

Heathcliffs? part 2

Clock friend (bonus) (technically)

Clock friend learns of tumblr (bonus)

Clock puppy (bonus)

Clock puppy part 2 (bonus)

Durante Buttercream Sigye the 10th (bonus)

Heathcliff’s report

Catfished

Gal-pals (bonus)

Heathcliff update

Best boi blog Debut?? (bonus)

Golf Cart unlocked

Durante status (bonus)

On the way

A big oopsies

The First Hunt

Random Interval Moment

Mirror identities (bonus)

Thoughts (bonus)

Clock conundrum (bonus)

Clock conundrum part 2 kind of (bonus)

The R.B. (bonus)

S.A.D. (bonus)

S.A.D. part 2 kind of (bonus)

That one with the isopods (bonus)

That one with the isopods part 2 (bonus)

That one with the isopods part 3 (bonus)

That one with the isopods part 4 (bonus)

That one with the isopods part 5 (bonus)

That one with the isopods part 6 (bonus)

Raccoons VS. Isopods (bonus)

Current arc

Instagram Grandma’s Debut

“Why are workshop owners getting killed?”

Normal prescript outing

Normal mailbox delivery

Normal cat

Do not contact the normal cat

SnakeHead’s blog Debut

The beach cruise episode

Outis’ first report

Coincidence?

Exchange

Umbrellas?

Beginning of a war (bonus)

War initiated (bonus)

Hostage (bonus)

Hostage part 2 (bonus)

The End of the war..? (or is it) (bonus)

Just a silly guy, whimsical even

Number 111

Walking adventure

Walking adventure gone wrong

H.R.B.M, or Birds of a feather

Whistleblower

Walking adventure conclusion

All aboard the Pequod

Yellow flowers?

Indecisive clues (bonus)

Strange encounter (bonus)

Bird friend (bonus)

Back on track

Inquiry (bonus)

That sounds bad

Chicken wing detour

Fox Hunt

Catherine

Words from another world (bonus)

Another expedition

Expedition complete

“Yaoi revenge”

Whistleblower returns

Whistleblower returns part 2

A very bad feeling

”Don’t eat those! Oops!”

Boat shenanigans

The end of the cruise episode

[thejessyami]

Invitation (Makisig x Anon)

Disclaimer: I do not own Makisig, or any other Planet Puto Characters that might appear later. They belong to @ask-emilz-de-philz

Anon on the other hand is you. So enjoy! 

Part 2 here : Invitation Part 2

Part 3: Invitation Part 3 (NSFW)

Standing along the shore, the waves playfully crashed at your feet, leaving behind a tickling sensation. The winds whimsically tousled your hair, pulling it in every direction possible, while your elongated shadow stretched behind you, painted by the sun as it tenderly kissed the horizon. SUNSET That beautiful scenery once again brought tears to your eyes. How many months had passed since the day you awoke from this very spot? The details of what happened here elude your memory, yet an unshakable feeling of forgetting something important lingers in your mind, perhaps someone dear.

”Be mindful of your step, binibini,” cautioned the man, his hand gently guiding you along an unfamiliar path. As you delve deeper into the dense forest, an escalating uneasiness settles within you. 

 ‘This is stupid’ you silently cursed, who in their right mind follows a man through the deepest parts of the woods? Breaking the silence, you couldn’t help but inquire “Where are we? And where exactly are we heading?” pausing for a moment, you added with a touch of dark humor, “Don’t tell me you’re a serial killer who lured women into the woods and do away with them?”  

His audible chuckle raised your irritation; ‘did he just find amusement in your discomfort? "I assure you, binibini, that I won't do anything to you without your consent," he said, his tone tinged with sarcasm. "Unless you permit it, of course." his last statement made you blush, and furrowed your eyebrows in impatience.

Sensing your shifting mood, he quickly apologized, “ My apologies, I didn’t mean to laugh,” his eyes filled with amusement, still annoyed you cut him off, demanding, “Where exactly are you taking me?” staring at him with a mix of irritation and disbelief, both of you came to a halt. Before you, stood the largest Balete tree you have ever seen. “Here we are.” he answered, finally addressing your question. 

“Here?” you questioned him once more, a hint of skepticism in your tone, "You're joking right?" just to ensure he wasn’t playing some elaborate joke on you, Unfazed by your inquiry and with his amusement seemingly unaltered, he replied, “To answer your question, Yes, this is the place and No, I''m not” You glanced back at the tree, a perplexed expression on your face, wondering why he had led you to this spot. It wasn’t the picturesque and exciting location you had envisioned when he asked you earlier, ‘How about I take you somewhere fun?’ 

~~Earlier~~

Observing the couple before you, wrapped in an intimate embrace, gives a bitter taste in every sip of your alcohol. “But I can’t swim babe!” She expressed, her eyes reflecting concern, “what if I drowned? Will you save me?” she playfully pouted. Mockingly, you mouthed her words, an ironic commentary on their conversation.

The man, already closely entwined with the girl, pulled her even closer. With a playful gesture, he touched her nose and reassured her, “what are you worrying about, babe? I won’t let anything bad happen to you! I’ll be your floatie in the water, so you won’t have to feel scared while swimming. "The girl squealed in delight, embracing the man tightly as he showered her with forehead kisses. 

Feeling a growing discomfort with their public display of affection, you couldn't bear to witness more of their cringe-worthy behavior. In irritation, you slammed the table. Startled, the young couple turned their attention towards you. “You’re going to break up eventually!” you uttered bitterly, glaring at them. They stared back in confusion, as if you had lost your mind. Before they could respond, you swiftly grabbed your purse and the half-empty bottle of beer. Choosing to leave the place rather than engage in a confrontation with the lovebirds. 

Stepping out of the bar, a brisk sea breeze caressed your skin, sending shivers down your spine with its chilly touch, The sound of waves gently crashing onto the shore serenaded your ears, while the scents of seawater and the sunset on the horizon provided a soothing ambiance. In your thoughts, you couldn’t help but murmur the word, ‘Pretty’ The tranquil scenery left you in awe, reminding you of the very reason you had chosen this trip destination. The same scenery you saw in an article that you just happened to come by while searching talks about the some local folklore of a mystical fading island called Biringan city. The peaceful panorama before you momentarily whisked you away from the reality and troubles that haunted you just days ago.    

Your peaceful moment ended suddenly when your phone, hidden in your purse, vibrated. As you checked the message, your mood sank “Mahal” the very person you hate to see or here right now.  “Mahal how was your trip? Are you enjoying yourself there? I’m sorry that I can’t go with you! My family decided to go to Bohol the same time as our planned trip and you know I can’t say no to them, I told you to re-schedule, but you still decided to go alone. Anyway, don’t forget to send me pictures! Oh, can you buy me some souvenirs for my family while you're at it. Thanks Mahal! I love you!”

Anger surges again within you as you read his insincere words, especially after you had carefully organized every aspect of the trip, only to be left alone at the last minute. What's more infuriating was the fact that this bastard is currently cheating as of this moment. A few days before the trip, a friend shared a photo of him telling you that they feel guilty of not telling you any sooner, in the image was him celebrating his first anniversary with another woman with the chocolate hills in the back ground. You felt both shock and heartbreak as you faced with the betrayal. The mix of anger and sadness grows, realizing that his family trip excuse was just a cover for his cheating.     “MEN ARE JERKS!” you shouted in frustration as you threw the bottle of beer onto the sea. As if amused by your outburst, a man chuckled from behind. Then said, “The bottle is innocent, Binibini, why must it suffer from your frustration?” you sighed heavily and turned to the source of voice you said, "It's none of your bus..." you abruptly stopped noticing the man standing not far away. "ness.." you continued, trailing off.

Captivated you scanned his features: Tall, Handsome, and Pale, but the one that caught your attention was his golden-hued eyes that shines brightly than the sunset behind. Unable to contain your admiration by the bewitching beauty of his eyes, you blurted out in almost a whisper “Pretty”. The man raised an eyebrow, inquired, “What’s Pretty, Binibini?”     “You... You're pretty.” Quickly realizing what you said, embarrassment set in, and immediately diverted your gaze, scolding yourself for the unexpected confession. ‘Gaga ka! Why tell a man he’s pretty!?’ again the man laughed, he began approaching, his smile never leaving his face. Once he was near, he spoke “It’s a first someone said I'm pretty, wouldn’t be handsome a more appropriate word?” You looked back at him, still feeling the lingering embarrassment. Now just a foot away, the height difference between you became apparent. He was not only handsome but also toweringly tall. His eyes, previously admired from a distance, drew you in even more up close. Their beauty amplified.    “I- it’s not like t-that!!” you stuttered. “I - i was referring to your eyes..”, you sheepishly defend yourself from your embarrassing remark. "Well thank you" he replied, a hint of pride in his tone. "Besides, being told I’m pretty wasn't so bad after all," he continued, as if accepting his status as the most attractive man in the world. Unable to contain your amusement, you laughed at the absurdity of your conversation.  

“You’re finally smiling,” he observed. Confused by his use of the word ‘finally’, you wondered if he had been watching you all along. Before you could ponder further, he added, “Now the word “pretty” suits you the best when you smile like that.” 

You found yourself slightly taken aback by his statement. “Are you hitting on me?” You asked, a mixture of jest and curiosity in your tone. “Just so you know, I’m not interested in looking for a partner right now, I prefer to be alone and have fun by myself,” you swiftly clarified, dismissing any notions of romantic interest. Especially not now when you are still hurting from the fresh wound your so-called boyfriend did.     “Well, I don’t think having fun by yourself is working,” he replied with a playful smirk followed by a shrug of his shoulders. “That’s unfortunate. Here I thought you could use some company, considering how grumpy you've been since you walked into that bar” he continued, his words catching you off guard. “Ever since I walked inside? Excuse me? Are you perhaps stalking me?” You retorted in disbelief. The man laughed at your accusation. “Oh no, please, I don’t do that. I was just sitting there, drinking and you caught my attention. I was merely observing,” he explained, his demeanor sincere. 

“That’s exactly what stalking means,” you replied, maintaining a cautious tone. “Well, how about this?” he proposed, emphasizing the word 'stalking' with a gesture. “How about I take you somewhere fun, as a sorry gesture for ‘stalking’ you?” 

You jokingly gasp “So you really were stalking!” you crossed your arms and looked away,” Well sorry to disappoint, I don’t follow strangers,” you asserted, making it clear that you don’t simply follow anyone. He chuckled once again. “Don’t worry, I won’t do you any harm,” he reassured you. Though you weren't particularly worried about potential harm, after all, you were taught self-defense by your overprotective father, but the idea of accompanying a stranger was still concerning. You looked back into his eyes, searching for any signs of malice. Finding none, a small part of you wanted to accept his offer. 

“What is your name?” you blurted out, unable to contain your curiosity. 

The man smiled warmly and replied, “Makisig.” 

~~ Present~~    A blinding light suddenly appeared, causing you to recoil in fear as you instinctively hid behind Makisig, clutching his clothes tightly. 'What the hell was that?' you thought, your heart pounding in your chest. Makisig remained composed, standing firm as if the unfolding scene was a routine for him. As the intensity of the blinding light gradually diminished, Makisig spoke calmly, "Don’t be scared, I’m here." 

"Excuse me?!" you exclaimed incredulously, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and confusion. “Some unknown light just popped out of that tree, and you tell me not to be scared?!” you continued as your fear intensifies while you point into the light, demanding “And why aren’t you scared of that thing? What even is that thing!” Makisig jokingly pondered before responding, “A portal... Of some sort” pausing briefly.  

You gazed at Makisig in utter astonishment, a sense of bewilderment washing over you. “It’s ready, come and see for yourself” he urged.

you slowly let go of his shirt and distanced yourself, your eyes bore into his, silently imploring him for a more coherent explanation. The recurring thought echoed in your mind: Why are you here again? 

Sensing your hesitation, Makisig lifted his hand and extended it toward you, his voice reassuring, “Follow me, and I promise to make your time with me worthwhile.” A subtle smile played on his lips, his words weaving a persuasive spell, tempting you to surrender to the uknown journey he was leading you into.  

“What if I don’t want to?” you questioned, the air hung with anticipation as you waited for Makisig’s response, wondering how he would address your hesitation. “Then would you like to return?” Makisig calmly replied, fixing his gaze on you. “Just tell me what you want, I will respect your decision,” he said, gradually moving closer towards you “you can ask me to return you back to that place or...” he paused, then lean towards your left ear and spoke In a husky voice “or you can come with me and I’ll give you the pleasure of my company.” that last thing he said sent shivers down your spine. Your face and ears are now red from the provocative invitation.     He pulled back, his gaze locked onto yours, waiting patiently for your reply. His eyes held a depth of emotion, silently urging you to follow him inside. With an air of anticipation lingering between you, the decision weighed heavily on your mind, torn between curiosity and caution. You looked back at the light, then back at Makisig. You were already there, and the only question now was whether you could trust this man. 

“Well, binibini, what is your decision?” Makisig asked, his hand extended again in a gesture for you to decide. After all that you’ve been through in the past few days, what more could happen? Slowly, with a hint of hesitation, you raised your hand and accepted the hand extended towards you. “Okay,” you said, your voice steady despite the uncertainty. “I will go with you.” He grinned with satisfaction gently pulling your hand towards his lips for a kiss “A wise decision, Binibini” 

To be Continued

Author's note:

Hi, I was intending to make it a one-shot story, but for the life of me, I find it difficult to do so, Hahahahaha, Perhaps Its an excuse, but I feel that sharing the details of how they met first, before embarking on their upcoming journey, would provide a better understanding of the events. That's why the ending turns into multiple chapters for the story! Hahahaha. And sorry for the cliff hanger T-T    It’s been a long time since I wrote something, my last fanfiction was in 2014 (I was delusional with black butler at that time) and unfortunately after I was robbed of my computer that time (it's a very bad experience that i will not explain any further for your sanity.) I never picked up my pen again. If you noticed my Tumblr is empty, that’s because I normally use Deviant Art and Wattpad as my platform. If you are interested, then I will put the link below.    Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/Jessyami  Deviant art: https://www.deviantart.com/jessyami/gallery

Also forgive me if there are any mistakes like spelling or grammar. Again, Makisig and any other characters that might appear later all belongs to @ask-emilz-de-philz.   They're really great artists! go and check out their blog! &lt;;3 BLOG SITE: https://www.tumblr.com/ask-emilz-de-philz

[kojoty]

say what you want about ai art, be pro it against it whatever i have my own opinions and they're infinitely nuanced and it's a hefty and worthy discussion etc etc , the ethics are absolutely something worth talking about etc etc etc. that said. if i post an OBVIOUS and BLATANTLY ai generated image that's OBVIOUSLY meant to be a joke partially making fun of how outlandishly bad the generator is. you are just like. being kind of . you know . sometimes life can be. silly. we don't need to be a party pooper ALL the time. you know? you can post a joke and not necessarily agree with it. soemtimes the joke can partially be about how bad the thing is. comedy can be a representation of what we hate to show how ridiculous it is. sometimes, sometimes...

actually im pausing this post. i want to play in an ai generator to see what i can get. here's gandalf fanfiction <3

In this bizarre tableau, Gandalf sits surrounded by forlorn farm animals, the weight of his existential crisis heavy on his shoulders and breasts as he munches on ripe watermelon, each bite a reminder of his fictional existence. A haze of marijuana smoke weaves through the air, mirroring his thoughts on the absurdity of being conjured into existence for AI-generated content. As he contemplates the ethics of creation and purpose, the sad expressions of the animals reflect a shared understanding of their own roles, weaving a tapestry of melancholy and reflection within the surreal surroundings. Just as Gandalf spirals deeper into his existential doubts, Spider-Man swings into the scene, embodying his signature blend of New York charm and carefree spirit. With a playful grin, he snatches the joint from Gandalf's fingers, declaring, “Hey, life is awesome, actually!” His infectious enthusiasm radiates through the farm, breaking the heavy atmosphere as he encourages everyone to embrace joy without caution or inquiry. The farm animals perk up, momentarily captivated by Spider-Man’s unwavering optimism, as Gandalf finds himself torn between the allure of this lighthearted perspective and the weight of his own introspection, highlighting the stark contrast between whimsical escapism and profound reflection. In a startling twist, Gandalf's once-sharp intellect begins to dull as he watches Spider-Man's carefree attitude unfurl like a vibrant banner of apolitical optimism. The wizard, once a bastion of wisdom and contemplation, finds himself enchanted by the web-slinger’s carefree dismissal of deeper meanings. As he listens to Spider-Man’s catchy reassurances that questioning life is unnecessary, Gandalf's thoughts spiral into a haze, his existential quandaries overshadowed by an overwhelming desire to embrace a simpler, happier existence, leaving behind the complexities that once defined him. The farm animals, amused yet concerned, bear witness to this unexpected transformation, caught between laughter and bewilderment at the shifting dynamics of their surreal gathering. Metamorphizing, Gandalf succumbs to Spider-Man’s infectious spirit, his once-profound thoughts replaced by a blissful ignorance. The wizard transitions into a mindless, hypnotized creature, shedding his melancholic introspection along with his wizardly stature. Now frolicking alongside the farm animals, he revels in a world devoid of political worries, embodying a joyous simplicity that echoes Spider-Man's call for carefree living. The vibrant ambiance of laughter and lightness envelops them, allowing Gandalf to indulge in a new existence where the complexities of the world fade away, leaving only the thrill of the present moment. In his hypnotized state, Gandalf oscillates between contradictory exclamations, bleating "AI IS GOOD!" with enthusiasm one moment and barking "AI IS THE DEVIL!" the next, completely unaware of the absurdity of his declarations. His intelligence and critical thinking have evaporated, leaving him as a mere echo of conversations he once cherished—words stripped of their meaning, hummed in a mindless chant. This chaotic cacophony of thoughts, devoid of personal understanding, serves as a reflection of the fickle nature of opinions and beliefs, showcasing how easily one can fall prey to the whims of the crowd, oblivious to the laughter and bewilderment of the farm animals that surround him.

i hope you like my short story

[pxnsneverland]

Beauty and the Boss | austin!elvis x oc (part 10)

plot summary: Laura Jean Walker is the daughter to Louisiana’s most powerful mafia boss, but to her, he’s just her jail warden. When she sneaks out to the Louisiana Hayride with her friend she sees Elvis Presley perform and instantly knows something is special about this boy. Especially when he saves her from being assaulted by a townie. She thinks she’s on cloud 9 until she gets kidnapped in the middle of the night by the Memphis Mafia led by Elvis himself. Will Laura Jean try to free herself or will something hold her back from finding her way home?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 2500

warnings/notes: N/A

Chapter 10

              Never before had I witnessed such a torrent of tears cascade from Elvis's eyes, despite the numerous tales he had shared with me about his childhood. He held onto me tightly, his grip unyielding, as the blinding flashes of the cameras illuminated the area. It was as if he feared that I, too, would slip away from his grasp if he dared to release his hold. In the midst of his anguished sobs, he valiantly responded to the probing inquiries of the reporters, each word escaping his lips with a raspy, hoarse timbre. As the minutes ticked by, the imposing figure of the Colonel cast a shadow over the amassed crowd, akin to a circling vulture, ever watchful and ready to strike. The weight of responsibility settled upon my shoulders, a resolute thought echoing through my mind. "I need to protect him," I whispered, my determination unwavering. 

              The passage of time resembled delicate petals carried by the whimsical breeze. Although Elvis continued to perform and make public appearances, there was a noticeable dimness in his eyes - a flicker that had once burned brightly with the love he had received from his Mama. Familiar was I with that ethereal glow, intimately acquainted with the searing ache that accompanied its absence. With persistent resolve, you pressed forward, steadfastly navigating the treacherous terrain of pain. It loomed ominously, an ever-present specter, poised to snatch away any semblance of tranquility you had managed to procure. I made every effort to maintain Elvis's high spirits to the best of my abilities. The majority of instances proved fruitful, as my efforts gradually yielded the desired outcome of coaxing a smile from him once more. In the moments when Elvis found respite from the relentless gaze of the public eye, he sought solace in the simplicity of our intimate relationship. On most occasions, we found solace within the confines of his room or the red room, enveloped in our own private realm, impervious to any external disturbances. The looming peril that my father presented gradually receded from my consciousness, transforming into a haunting reverie. Maybe, in a moment of resignation, he had come to the realization that I was resolute in my decision to stay with Elvis, regardless of his desperate attempts to win me back. In the depths of my consciousness, I harbored a flicker of hope, although I was acutely aware that it was merely a product of my own desires, a figment of my imagination.

              The delicate bubble of hope that enveloped me was abruptly burst one fateful afternoon, just as Elvis and I returned to the sanctuary of Graceland. Our spirits were still buoyant from a meeting that the Colonel had arranged with a prominent Hollywood producer. “Colonel said once this deal is signed he’ll make me a real actor,” Elvis declared with a wide grin, his voice filled with anticipation, “Starrin’ in real Hollywood movies.” As he skillfully maneuvered his vehicle, he arrived at the grand entrance, a sprawling driveway leading up to the majestic main house.  “Said he’s already got some potential actin’ parts already lined up. They’re just waitin’ for the go ahead.”

              A surge of joy enveloped me as I beheld his happiness. From the moment Elvis and I forged a profound relationship, his constant drive to pursue a career as a serious actor became a recurring theme in our conversations. “That’s amazin’, sweetheart! All your dreams comin’ true. Your Mama would be so proud of you.”

              A fleeting moment saw his smile transform into a melancholic expression. “Yeah, she would be. Especially since she left you here to look after me.” Elvis silenced the engine's rumble, yet remained motionless, his hand lingering on the ignition. Concealed behind the darkened lenses of his sunglasses, he exuded an air of profound contemplation. With a deliberate motion, he removed his sunglasses, revealing eyes that held a hint of weariness. His gaze shifted downward, fixating on his lap, as if seeking solace or perhaps contemplating the weight of the world. “You know, darlin’…when this deal is signed and all…I’m gonna have to move to California for a while.”

              Naturally, I had been aware of that fact, yet I couldn't help but wonder why he appeared so visibly anxious. Had the Colonel had informed him of mine being unable to accompany them? The words uttered by that man were truly astonishing. If I had to, I'd go kicking and screaming and battling him all the way. I refused to allow him to manipulate Elvis's mind in my absence. “I know that.”

              “Well…” His gaze fell upon me in that moment. His hands trembled ever so slightly, betraying a hidden vulnerability. “I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come with me…”

              Was that the source of his anxiety? Was he not aware of the unwavering devotion that bound me to his side, propelling me to traverse the vast expanse of this world and venture even further into the unknown? “As if you c---”

              “As my wife.” The suddenness with which he interrupted me left me momentarily stunned, struggling to fully comprehend his words. A tingling sensation enveloped my mouth, rendering it momentarily numb, as his hand delved into the depths of his jacket pocket. With a graceful motion, he retrieved a petite velvet box. Nestled within the confines of the box lay a resplendent diamond ring, its brilliance so captivating that I could only imagine the staggering price tag it bore. The mere thought of inquiring about its value threatened to overwhelm my senses, as if the revelation would render me unconscious in disbelief. “I know we ain’t never talked about gettin’ married and California is basically a whole ‘nother world compared to Graceland. And I know I’m just some mafia leader who lucked himself into a singin’ career. But, Laura Jean, I ain’t met anyone like you and I’m sure I never will again. You know the real me, the good parts and the bad and still you choose to love me. And I love you so much I feel like my heart is gonna burst every time you look at me.” A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “Will you marry me?”

              As I savored the moment, a peculiar sensation overcame me - it was as if my tongue had undergone a remarkable transformation, expanding within the confines of my mouth. Words eluded me, trapped within the confines of my mind. Elvis Presley, you have my heart. Unbeknownst to you, it was your actions that liberated me from the confines of my cage. I found myself nodding vigorously, my heart brimming with joy as tears of happiness cascaded down my cheeks. Elvis's apprehensive face swiftly dissipated as he delicately extracted the ring from its ornate box, gracefully sliding it onto my awaiting finger. With an ardent embrace, I enveloped my arms around his neck, drawing myself closer to the driver's seat as if our souls were intertwined. In a moment of undeniable passion, I pressed my lips against his, savoring the taste of our connection. His hands gently cradled my face, as if holding a fragile treasure. In that tender embrace, both of us silently yearned for time to stand still, desperate to prolong this fleeting moment of bliss. However, it complied with the natural order of things, for both of us were compelled to breathe.

              “Is that a yes?” he uttered in a hushed tone, his lips lingering in proximity to mine.

              “As if anything could keep me away from you.”

              Our attachment was abruptly severed by the jarring clamor emanating from the passenger's side door. Jerry and Billy were in a state of frantic panic. Elvis appeared visibly perturbed by the untimely interruption that had disrupted the delicate tinder moment we were sharing. As we emerged from the vehicle, Elvis's exit was marked by a resounding slam, a touch more forceful than his customary manner.

“Jerry! Billy! What the hell is wrong with y’all bangin’ on my car like that?!” Elvis yelled as he came around to stand next to me on the other side of the car.

“Move! EP, you guys gotta move!” Jerry's voice pierced the air, its urgency leaving no room for questions. In a swift motion, he and Billy seized us, their hands tugging us away from the vehicle, propelling us to safety. As we ascended the staircase of the estate, a thunderous explosion erupted, shattering the tranquility of the moment, and sending us sprawling to the ground, our senses overwhelmed by the sheer force of the blast. With lightning-fast reflexes, Elvis deftly intercepted my impending collision, ensuring that instead of a painful impact with the unforgiving corner of the steps, I found myself safely ensconced in his protective embrace. The formidable force barreled through the rustling foliage, causing a tempestuous dance among the leaves. Its unyielding power was such that it shattered a window, sending shards of glass cascading into the delicate embrace of the flower bed below.

“Are you alright, darlin’?” Elvis asked, his voice filled with frantic urgency, my head still buried in the comforting embrace of his chest.

I gently nodded, finding comfort in his eyes. Gently, my fingertips grazed his cheek, tracing the faint mark that now marred his otherwise flawless skin. “I’m fine. What happened?”

Without granting him a moment to respond, I swiftly averted my gaze towards Elvis's vehicle, the very one that had sheltered us mere moments ago. Alas, it now stood consumed by a raging inferno, its once pristine exterior scattered haphazardly across the manicured lawn. The sudden and devastating explosion of a car bomb sent shockwaves through the air, shattering the tranquility of the surrounding area. As we embarked on our journey back, little did we know that it had been concealed within the confines of our vehicle all along. How was it possible that the explosive had not detonated? The distant wail of fire sirens reached my ears, their mournful cry piercing. With a swift motion, Elvis extended his hand towards me, urging me to rise from the ground. In a flurry of movement, he guided me towards the entrance of the house, accompanied by the presence of Jerry and Billy. Elvis's chest rose and fell with each breath, a rhythmic testament to the intensity of his emotions. A crimson hue had overtaken his countenance, transforming him into the very embodiment of the merciless gangster I had come to recognize he could be. His eyes narrowed as he fixed his gaze upon Jerry and Billy.

“Now, y’all wanna tell me how you knew there was a bomb in my car?” With lightning speed, Elvis lunged forward, seizing Jerry by the collar of his shirt. In one swift motion, he propelled him forcefully against the wall, causing a delicate vase to topple and shatter upon impact. “HOW DID YOU KNOW?! I swear, Jerry, if you’re turning against me now, I’ll kill you!”

Billy reached out, his fingers grasping Elvis's shoulder in a desperate attempt to dislodge Jerry. Alas, his efforts proved fruitless as Elvis remained firmly planted, unyielding to Billy's feeble endeavor. “It wasn’t us! We would never do that to you, EP.”

With a sudden, swift motion, Elvis's head whipped around.  “Then how did you know about the bomb?!”

In a moment of revelation, Billy unveiled a crumpled piece of paper that had eluded my attention until now. As a result of this unforeseen turn of events, Elvis made the difficult decision to release Jerry from his grip, allowing him to escape the clutches of danger. Elvis snatched the crumpled paper from Billy's grasp, his fingers delicately caressing its surface in an attempt to restore its former glory. His intent was clear - to decipher the words that lay hidden beneath the folds and creases, as if unraveling a mystery that begged to be solved. I peered over his shoulder, aching to catch a glimpse of the words myself:

I left Mr. Presley a little gift in his car. Fame can’t protect him forever. -Walker

              There was virtually no limit to how far this man might go. The audacious act of targeting Elvis's car with a bomb was a shocking and brazen endeavor. The potential for tragedy loomed ominously, as he possessed the capacity to end not only my life but also the lives of any unsuspecting individuals residing within the confines of Graceland, should they have found themselves in the ill-fated vehicle alongside Elvis. However, that was precisely the crux of the matter. In the discerning gaze of his eyes, none among us could claim innocence, not even I. Daddy, in his unyielding pursuit of victory, would not hesitate crush those who managed to surpass him in his own domain. As for myself, I would bear the consequences of daring to challenge his authority. This was the grand canine spectacle he had been forewarning me of. It was a world beyond mere blades and fist fights. Lives teetered on the precipice, their delicate balance hanging in the order, and among them, my own existence dangled precariously. In the depths of my contemplation, my mind wandered to the memory of my beloved mother. Her existence, tragically shortened by a conflict that had never been her own. Was I fated to be trapped in the relentless cycle of history's repetition? In contemplating the potential aftermath of my demise, a lingering question arises within me: would Elvis succumb to the same frigid detachment that seemed to consume Daddy's soul? Would the loss of my presence render him distant and devoid of emotion, mirroring the very essence of my father? Before me, time slipped away like a fleeting wisp of smoke, leaving me bereft of the opportunity to engage in deep contemplation. It was in this moment, when the world seemed to hold its breath, that the phone, with its insistent ring, shattered the silence. With an air of anticipation, Elvis effortlessly grasped the phone, as though he possessed an innate understanding of the identity of the caller on the other end. His anger intensified with each passing moment, fueled by the words that resonated through the receiver.

              “You sick, twisted bastard!” he bellowed vehemently through the telephone, “You could have killed her! If you want me dead so bad, you come here and face me yourself. You know where to find me.” With a force that seemed capable of shattering the delicate device, he abruptly terminated the call. “Jerry, Billy, gather everyone up. We gotta visitor comin’. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” With a firm grip, Elvis clasped my hand and whisked me away, his footsteps resounding through the labyrinthine hallways. “Laura Jean, I don’t want you leavin’ my side you hear me? Not until all of this is over.”

              “Elvis, what’s goin’ on? Who was that on the phone? What did they say?” There was no real need for me to ask questions. I knew.

              “Your Daddy is comin’,” he uttered the words, in a voice ablaze with the fury of damnation.

Stay tuned for part 11!! Click HERE to view!