#kathleen key

[friendlessghoul]

Comedian's Sober Face Scratched Up Former Actress Vanishes After Wild Clash with Keaton

- The Los Angeles Times February 6, 1931

[silentdivasblog]

Kathleen Key ❤️

[wonder-worker]

"We therefore need to separate out the 'facets' of [Anne de Pisseleu's] life, the way she was perceived by different groups and individuals. According to these, she could be viewed as an ornament to the court, a grasping favorite, a desired patroness, an able businesswoman, later on as a pillar of the reformed church and cantankerous old woman. At different times and over a long life, Anne de Pisseleu played all these roles."

David Potter, "The Life and After-Life of a Royal Mistress: Anne de Pisseleu, Duchess of Étampes"

[topgunreacts]

Who else remembers this batshit crazy author vs critic saga. This lady hunted down the information of a reviewer who didn’t like her book and WENT TO HER HOUSE

[kazz-brekker]

spent 2 episodes of the last of us going insane trying to figure out why kathleen’s voice sounded so familiar and now google informs me she was BEATRICE FROM OVER THE GARDEN WALL?!?!?!

[jomiddlemarch]

“The showrunners have explicitly confirmed that if the Fireflies killed Ellie, the vaccine created from her brain would have cured the Cordyceps pandemic. TV-Joel knows even less about the previous vaccine trials and errors than Game-Joel, but makes the same decision.”

Um, the showrunners may have said that in a podcast or something, but it is NOT explicitly stated in the show-- Marlene makes some kind of assertion about it, but that isn’t scientific proof and there is no way to know if a vaccine is effective UNTIL YOU MAKE AND USE ONE. Before that, you have A HYPOTHESIS. 

There is no explanation as to why they need ALL her brain tissue in order to make this vaccine-- it makes more sense to keep her alive and continue to get more samples to create more vaccines, whether they are just sampling spinal fluid or just trying to get bits of her brain. And wouldn’t it be even more agonizing if the deal was to keep her alive to harvest, slowly destroying her identity/self?

“But there was no time for all that when Joel started methodically blasting his way through that hospital floor by floor, room by room. Okay, there’s the rationale that those Fireflies were armed and shooting at Joel, too. But the doctor that was starting to work on Ellie, the only person known to be working for a world-saving cure, was decidedly unarmed.”

The doctor had three other people assisting him, which could have included nurses/doctors/scientists. Joel didn’t kill them. And let’s be clear “starting to work” means operating on a patient who DID NOT CONSENT TO TREATMENT. That’s assault. And what’s worse is that Ellie probably would have consented (assent based on her age, but whatever) and the Fireflies never gave her that option. And let’s remember, when Joel and Ellie were trying to join the Fireflies, the Fireflies welcomed them by attacking them and basically kidnapping Ellie and preparing to kill her.

“But Joel should’ve let Ellie decide her fate. He stole that choice from her and left her with an unfair emotional burden as he projects his own fears onto her.”

MARLENE STOLE HER CHOICE AS WELL. First, really, in a way that made it pretty impossible for Joel to give it back. It’s all well and good to say Ellie wanted to do whatever it took-- that’s not how informed consent works. Would Ellie have consented to sacrifice herself? Probably? Maybe. She doesn’t get a chance to pull a Spock in Wrath of Khan.

[moviesludge]

if yer in such a hurry gehead

[triviareads]

Don't say my silver fox from A Recipe For A Rogue has any vibes from Colin, that man is lame 🥲

i'm sorry I was trying to be nice 😭😭😭 but yeah apart from a love of food there..... really aren't a whole lot of similarities there.

[takaraphoenix]

Family Trees of the Multiverse: Bat Family

The last of my Multiverse Family Trees!

And due to the family's size, it got split into three trees, for clearer visualization. The Wayne/Kane family for one, all the Robins and their parents, siblings and children got their own, and due to Dick's messy multiverse-life, and the fact that the majority of his kids are Babs' kids, Dick and Babs share a third tree.

As always, color-coded. However, due to just how big this family mess is, I'm not listing all the colors. Just the three key colors:

Black represents current Prime Earth continuity, red indicates a character or relation is from the New Earth continuity and orange stands for the Pre-Crisis continuity (-> if it says [New Earth] beneath the character in red but the frame is black, that means the character was first introduced during the New Earth continuity and continues existing; if the frame-color matches the label, then the character is exclusive to that era/Earth).

Some notes for additional clarification since things are MessyTM:

Terry and Matt McGinnis are technically biologically Bruce's children, since Amanda Waller altered their father's DNA into Bruce's. I don't know how to visualize that in a family tree and since they are his adopted children in later comic continuity, they go into the adopted children section.

Usually, when parents have various names throughout incarnation, I just indicate that by color, but in Jason Todd's case, Joe and Trina as the Flying Todds are very different people from small-time criminal Willis and his wife Sheila, so Jason gets two sets of parents on the tree.

Barbara Gordon's backstory is a mess; she was first conceived as the biological child of Jim and Thelma in Pre-Crisis continuity, then became the biological child of Jim's brother Roger and Thelma, who got adopted by Jim and Barbara Eileen and to whom Sarah Essen was a stepmother, however in Gotham Noir, Sarah Essen is her biological mother. Also, Babs has three different middle names - Lee in the Gotham TV continuity, Kathleen in the Killing Joke movie, and as of the Prime Earth continuity, she got the middle name Joan (before that, she was just Barbara Gordon).

[milliesfishes]

so yk how there has been a lot of you or your kid getting kidnapped WHAT IF instead, it was Billy or Coryo that got kidnapped and like you want to go out and hunt down those who would even THINK about taking your man away from you but like maybe you can't because you have your daughter to take care of or you have other responsibilites

just didn't know if anyone has thought of this yet but anyways I LOVE YOU SM MILLIE ❤️❤️❤️ !! KEEP UP THE GREAT WORK!!!

omg I love you!!!!! this is so sweet, please rp with your own thoughts on it if you want to! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓲𝓼 𝓴𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓭⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓭

He was taken.

Those are the words emerging from the mouth of one of Billy's men, the words you're hearing. But they are some of the last ones you've ever wanted to hear.

You nearly drop the baby perched on your hip, stunned into stiffened pose. The man before you appears nervous, and you thank him for delivering the information before retreating inside the house.

In your husband's line of work, danger lurked around every corner, breathed down the necks of everyone he loved. It revealed itself in the form of men with sneers painted on their lips, in anxieties whispered into your ear late in the throes of the night by your lover. Though he was the picture of a fearless protector, he was scared.

Billy's fear never was directed at himself. No, he only sook to protect you, you and your daughter named for his mother. The arrival Kathleen, Kat as he called her, had only heightened his protective instincts, spurring them into action.

Your home was a location of utmost secret, known only by a select few of his gang when it was absolutely necessary. He guarded you and your daughter under lock and key, determined to keep you hidden from any sign of danger even hinting in your direction.

But he hadn't been attentive enough toward himself. And now your stomach was plummeting as you imagined Billy bound and gagged in a dark location, gun removed from his side, blood spattering his face.

Kat babbled, tugging on a strand of your hair, and you looked down at her again, breaths shallow. She had dark hair just the same as Billy's, winding into stubborn curls. And her eyes... the color of forget-me-nots, just like his.

The one desire at the forefront of your mind was one to mount your horse and ride north, where the man had said your husband was being held. Under Billy's tutelage, you were proficient in gunslinging, and your small size was an advantage in a fight, he'd said.

With the amount of pain and passion you felt right now, taking on an army of a thousand men was child's play. For your love, the father of your child, there was hardly a thing you wouldn't do to see him return home safe. To be nestled in his arms soundly as he assured you that everything was okay.

But as you looked down at Kat, you knew you didn't have a prayer of leaving. Billy wouldn't want you to abandon your daughter to come running after him, no matter how much danger he was in. Having to choose between your husband and your daughter was an impossible road you hoped you would never be forced to venture down again.

For the rest of your waking hours, you did your best to stay distracted, entertaining Kat to the best of your ability and hiding any sign of fear or worry from her bright eyes. No need for you to know her beloved father was twisted in the web of fate once again, in a danger you could hardly imagine.

Putting her to bed, you kissed Kat goodnight, watching her sleepy eyes flutter shut, tiny fist clutching the corner of her favorite blanket. Turning around, you shut the door behind you, hand flying to your mouth as your eyes squeezed shut, tears escaping despite the motion. Stifling the awful sob you wanted to release, your chest tightened and horrifying thoughts played before your eyes in the form of images you prayed would never come to life.

Your Billy was strong and steadfast, and he was more than capable of handling himself. He'd done it all those years before settling down with you after all; gotten himself into life-threatening conundrums and emerging virtually unscathed.

What if this is the one time out of a hundred?

Stumbling to your bedroom, you were helpless once the door was shut, closing your own arms around yourself in an attempt at comfort and dissolving into tears. The way your body shuddered crescendoed into a quiet cry, eluding your attempts to keep quiet as not to disturb Kat. The last thing she needed was a desolate mother.

You had the foolish thought that maybe now that your baby was asleep you could make your way in Billy's direction, but it was quickly reasoned with. What if she woke up and needed you? What if you never came back?

Helplessly, you brought yourself over to the bed, collapsing into the warmth of Billy's side. His scent engulfed you, making it nearly plausible to pretend he was there. Beside you, about to sheath you in his arms and mutter that he'd been wanting to hold you all night.

Minutes disguised themselves as hours, tormenting you with the length of them. Every second was like squeezing honey from a bottle, watching the thick golden drops lazily make their way down the side, in no hurry to appear when you wanted them to.

Surely his gang had infiltrated where he was being held. And now they might be cutting his ropes, tossing him a gun and telling him to hurry on home. It was a childish fantasy. The rope of possibility had tendrils that wove into a thousand different destinies. The chances of everything happening your way were slim to none, and you braced yourself for news that he wasn't ever going to come back.

Any minute now the same bearer of bad news from earlier would return, hat both real and proverbially in his hand as he delivered information you could never be ready to hear. A series of thoughts about life without him revealed themselves, and you tried to push them aside. Sleeping alone beside his empty spot, raising Kat without him, telling her about her brave, kindhearted father whom the world misunderstood-

Loss overwhelmed your being, and you muffled your sobs in his pillow, determined only to cry in the darkness where your daughter's eyes would never find you.

You were unsure of how long it had been when you stopped. It was too dark to see the clock on the bedside, and your emotion had weakened you too much to check, anyways. Face sticky and damp with tears, you pulled the sheet up around your body in a gesture you hoped would be comforting. But the only thing that would truly calm you was tied up in a faraway unknown place.

Lost in the cavern of your discouragement, you allowed the cold, hardened fingers of grief drag you deeper into the depths. Though it was springtime, you knew without him life would be forever winter. The ghost of his memory would trail behind you like a second shadow with every one of your breaths. Kat would be the only thing to stop you from crawling beneath the earth to join him, his grave your new lover's bed.

Senses numbed, you were too long gone to hear the door open. But when warm fingers grazed your skin, you leapt up, whipping your head around and preparing yourself to attack whoever had broken in. There was a knife hidden in the bedside table that you were willing to use.

But the silhouette blurred by the night was familiar. You'd lost track of how many times you felt that touch, whether the intention be domestic or passionate. It was always loving.

Reaching over to the bedside, you fumbled for a match, striking it and holding the flame to the melted candle. Lifting the burning light, features revealed themselves as you moved it upwards. A time-worn gun belt, brown leather suspenders, dotted stubble...eyes bluer than the sky on a summer's day.

Lips parting in shock, you set the candle back down, hands moving of their own accord to cup his face. The prickle of his half-beard scratched at your soft palms, and his warmth exuded outward, drawing you in just as it always had.

"Billy..." you breathed, gasping in disbelief. Your fingers grasped at his face, as if checking to see if he wouldn't crumble under your fingers like some cruel vision.

His roughened hands came to your own cheeks, and your lower lip trembled, his next words a catalyst. "Oh, baby...baby 'm here."

You threw yourself into his arms, instantly surrounded by the warmth and love that could only come from being held like this by him. Home. He was home and this was home. All was right with the world.

"You're alive," you croaked into his chest, the sound and feel of his heartbeat a steady song proving he hadn't departed into the next realm yet. It nearly made you hysterical- the knowledge that Billy had been ripped from you and sewn back at your side within a day.

"I'm here my love," he promised, voice cracking barely as he buried his face in your hair. "I'll always come back to you...'m so sorry..."

"I wanted to come after you." Voice hitching at those words, you shuddered, your body's leftover tension from fear of his absence releasing. He was the one person in this life you could let your guard down with. "I wanted...but Kat..."

"Shh," Billy soothed, sitting down on the bed and keeping you right against him. His body began to rock back and forth, an immediate response to your distress. "You did exactly the right thing, darlin'. My brave girl...havin' to go through all this by yourself..."

"You were the one in danger," you whispered, lifting your head from the comfort of his chest. "And you...did you...?"

"Hush now," he murmured, hand petting over your hair in a way that melted you. "I'm here. I'm safe and I've gotcha again. That's all that matters."

There it was again. The protective streak, the curtain of iron that separated his two worlds. You did not press or ask further questions. Whatever his reasoning, it was likely for the best.

Billy gently positioned you to lie down before reaching below and tugging his boots off, kicking them aside. He stripped himself of his work clothes, and you imagined the state of them. Bloody, likely, dusty most definitely. Tomorrow you would scrub the substance from them and ignore the circumstances, merely happy he had come home.

The haven of his arms was yours once again as he crawled in behind you, kisses pressed to the back of your head as he settled. You knotted your hand with his resting on your stomach, filing the worries of tonight away where they wouldn't disturb you until the next morning.

Tucking his chin into the space between your neck and shoulder, Billy nosed a careful kiss into the space, his quiet last assurances echoing in your mind long after the words escaped his mouth.

"You're safe, my love. I'll keep you safe."

[liongoatsnake]

It has come up as of late, yet again, regarding the use of the term phantom limbs while referring to the experiences some alterhumans have where they feel traits on their bodies that are not physically there.  

While I could go into the long, long history of the term being used in the alterhuman communities going back into the 1990s, as this debate’s key sticking point is in regard to phantom limb being a medical term specific to the experiences of amputees or instead a general term that can be used for non-amputees as well, I’m going to strictly be pulling from academic sources below.   

To put it succinctly, the use of the term phantom limbs for alterhuman experiences has been recognized by multiple researchers and in other academic settings over the years. Ergo, no it isn’t a term specific to amputees that doesn't apply to alterhuman experiences. - Academic references below cut-

Examples:

The research done by a multidisciplinary team of researchers focusing on the study of the furry fandom called the International Anthropomorphic Research Project, uses the term phantom limb while referring the experiences of therians and otherkin. In their book, FurScience! A Summary of Five Years of Research from the International Anthropomorphic Research Project, which is a summary of five years of continuous research into the furry fandom, a section simply named “Phantom Limb,” touches on the topic of phantom limbs among furries, therians, and otherkin. [1] They go into the presence of “phantom limbs” among furries, therians, and otherkin again in their piece “Furries, Therians, and Otherkin, Oh My! What Do All Those Words Mean, Anyway?” which was part of the book, Furries Among Us 2: More Essays on Furries by Furries. Further, in 2019, the team published an academic article which shared their results where they used the previously mentioned Rubber Hand Illusion experiment on furries and therians. Once again, when bringing up the existence of experiences among therians and otherkin, the researchers use the term “phantom limbs.” [2] 

Devin Proctor’s 2019 dissertation, On Being Non-Human: Otherkin Identification and Virtual Space includes, along with dozens of mentions of the term throughout the work, a section on Phantom Shifting and in which he uses the term “phantom limbs.” [3]

For yet another example, the article, “An Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis of Identity in the Therian Community” also goes into quite some detail regarding the experience of “phantom limbs” among therians. [4]

A final example includes Nat Bricker’s 2016 thesis, Life Stories of Therianthropes: An Analysis of Nonhuman Identity in a Narrative Identity Model. [5]

…

This is NOT an exhaustive list in the slightest, but I think I’ve made my point clear enough (and I have other things I need to do today other than keep searching through my archive...).

TL;DR - Researchers who have studied therians and otherkin ALSO use the term phantom limbs to describe our experiences. This isn’t appropriation or otherwise misuse of medical terminology. This is using a word for what it means.   Citations:

[1] Plante, Courtney N., Stephen Reysen, Sharon E. Roberts, & Kathleen C. Gerbasi. FurScience! A Summary of Five Years of Research from the International Anthropomorphic Research Project. Waterloo, Ontario: FurScience, 2016. https://furscience.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/FurScience-Final-pdf-for-Website_2017_10_18.pdf, page 116.

[2] Kranjec, Alexander, Louis Lamanna, Erick Guzman, Courtney N. Plante, Stephen Reysen, Kathy Gerbasi, Sharon Roberts and Elizabeth Fein. “Illusory Body Perception and Experience in Furries.” CogSci (July 2019): Page 596-602.

[3] Proctor, Devin. On Being Non-Human: Otherkin Identification and Virtual Space. The George Washington University. May 2019. pages 172, 203-209, & 255.

[4] Grivell, Timothy, Helen Clegg & Elizabeth C. Roxburgh. “An Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis of Identity in the Therian Community.” Identity: An International Journal of Theory and Research. Volume 14, Number 2 (May 2014): pages 119-120, 124, 128-129.

[5] Bricker, Nat. Life Stories of Therianthropes: An Analysis of Nonhuman Identity in a Narrative Identity Model, Lake Forest College, April 2016, pages. 10, 14-15, 39-41, 60.

[bottlesofrouge]

on one condition.

harry styles x original character

part one.

word count: 6.9K

warning: their home lives kind of suck but that's it! (i think)

1 JUNE 2018

in the month of june, the sun rises around 5:25 am every morning in new york. sometimes it rises a few minutes earlier, and sometimes it rises a few minutes later, but lynn knew as soon as the first ray peaked its way through the blinds, her mother would be fully dressed, standing in the kitchen, and tapping her way through work emails that had mysteriously piled up overnight. growing up, lynn found this routine comforting because it never changed, weekends and holidays included. if she woke up and it was light outside, she knew her mom would be standing behind the breakfast bar with a stack of blueberry pancakes (made by her very wonderful au pair, elena) planted in front of her. she would sit on the stool across from her, and talk her mom's ear off. little lynn thought her mom's lack of responses was due to the fact that she was so tired from waking up so early every morning, but now-lynn realizes she just didn't really care that much.

her fingertips brush across the back of the stool sitting next to her, and it's almost like she can see a seven-year-old lynn sitting next to her. the slight glow of the numbers on the oven clock illuminating her features as she tells her mom about her chorus concert that was taking place in the evening. her grin widens as kathleen tells her she'll be there after she finishes work. although, elena will be the only familiar face she sees in the audience, and now-lynn knows it will always be like this. elena's familiar face amongst the crowd with her mother nowhere in sight.

the oven clock reads 5:13 am, and lynn decides to go over to the kitchen sink to splash some water on her face, trying to wash away any indication that might suggest she had not moved from the stool since she sat down nearly five hours prior. because that would be crazy, but also entirely true.

"you're up early," her mom's voice flows from the bottom of the staircase as soon as the first ray bounces off the granite kitchen counter, illuminating the room a bit more with its glow.

"i am," she reaches for the stool that she just got up from as her mom places a fresh cup of coffee in front of her.

kathleen says nothing else. instead, she reaches for her macbook that has been charging on the counter overnight, and lynn assumes she's immediately opening outlook. that's how it usually went the mornings after she'd spent the night. she'd stare at the wall for a few hours, trying not to let the sounds of her mother slamming the keys of the keyboard annoy her too much.

honestly, lynn didn't know what her mom did for work. she tried to explain it to her on a few occasions, but the only thing she understood was that it was extremely time-consuming. kathleen once said she was the only one in her office that had children, and she thought that maybe her mom should've followed in their footsteps.

"you'll be ready by 11, right? and you'll help me make sure the girls are ready?" kathleen says. she doesn't look at lynn until a few moments pass with no response. they make eye contact and her mom raises her brow. "the barbecue, lynn. remember?"

"right. i've got it. don't worry."

"your coffee's getting cold," her mom points out.

lynn tips the mug around before taking a sip. it's definitely cold, but she denies it and takes another sip before telling her mom she's wrong. there's really no reason to. it's only a cup of coffee, but she thinks she'll do just about anything to spite her.

her dad walks in and the entire atmosphere changes. he kisses kathleen's forehead and lynn can't help but cringe inside. it's absolutely sickening and she can't understand why her mom would ever take someone like him back. she had said lynn would understand when she was older, but it's been fifteen years and she still can't wrap her mind around it.

"good morning," he says as he pours himself a cup of coffee. "are the girls up?"

tuning out whatever her garbage father has to say is the only gift that lynn is thankful for. as soon as he opens his mouth, her ears magically turn off. it's something she'll be eternally grateful for because she thinks hearing peter's voice for more than four seconds would send her into a spiral.

growing up without a dad was a lot less horrific than some people may think. lynn didn't feel like she was missing out, and she didn't think her life was doomed to be a failure because of his absence. she honestly never thought much of her dad. that all changed when she was eleven though, and she walked in the door from school to see her parents moving all of her dad's belongings back into the same house he had moved out of eleven years prior (after having an affair with her first au pair before she had even turned one). needless to say, the sight of peter's face is enough to make now-lynn physically ill.

"are you going to be in such a sour mood all day, lynn?" she rolls her eyes at the words and makes no move to respond. it's silent once again, and the only sound that can be heard is kathleen's occasionally slurping.

it's nearing ten when her sisters finally wake up. jane is the first one down the steps. she's got the blanket she's had since she was born clenched in her fist as her other hand is holding the railing to make sure she doesn't tumble down the staircase. the little girl wordlessly makes her way to the kitchen, where she finds lynn making her blueberry pancakes covered in maple syrup.

"lynn," she yawns, fist rubbing her eyes. "you're back already?"

"m'only here for the barbecue mom insisted i go to."

"aw, man," the girl stabs a piece of her pancake and rests her head in her hand, a sigh pushing past her lips.

"i know. i miss you, too, jane." her fingers brush the other's hair away from her face as she eats. "i'll visit you a lot, and you know you and amelia are always invited over. all you have to do is ask."

jane only hums in response to her sister and puts all of her energy back to eating her pancakes. it's not long until amelia comes down the stairs. she looks almost as disheveled as their youngest sister. her hair is in a messy knot on top of her head, and she's still sporting last night's pajamas. lynn can't help but wonder where her mom went off to, and she feels a little queasy when amelia says she already knew lynn was visiting. simply because the kitchen smelled of food.

she makes sure jane's hair and teeth are brushed before finding her a little summer dress that screamed neighborhood barbecue, and then she braids amelia's hair away from her face before getting herself ready. there were only ten minutes before they had to leave, so lynn opts for a pink two-piece set she ordered from a random website online that probably specializes in drop shipping, and retouches her leftover makeup from yesterday before joining the two girls in the living room where they were watching some new disney movie that jane probably asked to be put on. it would be an understatement to say she was tired. her eyes felt heavy and she could barely hold her head up. she thinks that if she fell asleep now she could get out of this whole thing, but kathleen comes walking down the staircase, crushing her dreams of an afternoon nap.

"really lynn? that's what you're wearing?" and the girl should be upset at her mother's words. she really should, but after spending twenty-seven years hearing them, she's gotten used to them. "there's someone there i want you to meet."

lynn rolls her eyes as she walks to the foyer, "i'm not the next contestant on the bachelorette," she slips her shoe on. "and i'm definitely not dressing up for one of your friend's sons."

surprisingly, her mom drops it. lynn would be lying if she had said that she didn't find it the slightest bit alarming. her mom would've spent the entire two-minute-long drive trying to sell her on this mystery boy, but instead she reminds the girls that dance camp starts on monday... and then she asks lynn to take them.

when lynn gets out of the car, she can only focus on one thing, and that was how hot it was outside. it wasn't just a little uncomfortable. no, it was absolutely sweat-running-down-your-back roasting. she decides on pulling her hair up off of her neck which earns another comment from her mother. honestly, she tuned this one out, but she thinks she said something about lynn's masculine features becoming more prominent when her hair was tied back.

it's not long before kathleen starts introducing the girls to all of her friends. a woman asks if jane and amelia were her grandkids, and when her mom says no, she said that she couldn't believe how similar the girls looked to their nanny while nodding over at lynn.

there was honestly nothing she found more repulsing than this damn neighborhood barbecue. she hated it when she was seven, and she hates it now, twenty years later. it was hot and the air felt thick and humid. all she wanted was a nice long nap. she could picture it now. fresh, crisp, cool sheets and-

"lynn adams," kathleen's snapping her fingers in front of the girl's face, and it takes everything in her not to swat her mom's hand away. "don't be rude. this is my friend from yoga, marianne. she has a son-" and she doesn't know what else her mother says because as soon as the words leave her mouth, kathleen's voice sounds something similar to the bland tones of the parents in any charlie brown special, and before she knows it, marianne from yoga is hugging her and leading her towards a boy who looks like a young, unshowered, mick jagger cosplayer.

✮✮✮

harry's parents invited him over for lunch, and he really couldn't say no. he missed his mom's home-cooked meals, and honestly, he really never cooks actual meals for himself. he's found that cheap vodka and whatever mixer he could find in his cabinets worked as a great substitute. he'd never admit it, but he was excited to see his parents. sure, he lives only twenty minutes away, but he doesn't really ever have time to make a visit. failing all of his classes and frequenting the town's bar really took all of his energy.

when harry gets to his parents, he sees his sister's car in the driveway, and he thinks it's going to be a nice little family meal, something he hasn't had since he started going to college. but it's not. and really, he should've known better. no one wants to be around him.

when he stepped inside, his family and family friends were waiting for him in the living room. they sat in a circle and they all held folded pieces of paper in their hands. it took them a minute to realize that they were hosting their own intervention.

the entire event was so uncomfortable, and it made harry hate himself more than he already had. he knew he had a problem, and he also knew that he could stop whenever he wanted to. he did, in fact. he only started drinking again because he was craving validation. it doesn't really make sense to anyone but him, but he found it was easier to get someone to go home with him after he had been drinking. it gave him the confidence he needed, simple as that.

when his mom started reading her note, she was sobbing, and it made harry cry, too. it wasn't because what she was saying moved something deep inside of him. it was because he couldn't understand why they felt the need to embarrass him in front of so many people he wasn't really comfortable with. a phone call asking harry if he was okay would've worked just as well, but they never called unless it was to tell him just how disappointed they were in him.

so now he was at this stupid event for a neighborhood he hasn't lived in since he turned 18. his mom had asked him to come, and he felt like he couldn't say no. he was scared he'd push her into holding a second intervention, and honestly, he didn't think he'd be able to handle that.

it was hot and noisy, and there were kids everywhere. harry hated kids. they were gross and dirty, and they always found a way to piss him off. they were part of the reason that harry was so big on safe sex. he would literally have to change his name and move continents if he were to get anyone pregnant.

he's sitting at one of the picnic tables alone. his dad was lucky enough to skip the whole thing, and gemma claimed she was busy. his mom didn't mind though, and harry couldn't help but wonder why she was so adamant about him going. originally, he had thought that maybe she had wanted to spend some quality time with him, but nearly an hour had passed and marianne was still talking to her book club mom friends, not really showing interest in introducing them to her son. harry wasn't too surprised, though. his mom never really introduced him to her friends anymore.

marianne loves him. harry knows that. she only ever wants what's best for him, but she always goes about it the wrong way. maybe some kids needed an hour-long phone call lecture about how they'll never amount to anything if they don't finish their degrees. his sister was one of those kids. he remembers sitting at the kitchen table while his mom scolded her on the phone, and her dad did in person. john had driven the six hours to gemma's college town to bail her out of the county jail after a crazy night during her freshman year. needless to say, after that phone call, it never happened again. what his parents failed to realize was that harry wasn't gemma, and maybe he just needed someone to hold his hand and tell him everything would be okay.

he notices marianne moving away from her book club group and towards a family. there was an older couple, a girl that looked about his age, and two younger children. harry couldn't help but wonder what that family dynamic was. perhaps she was the girls' nanny, or maybe she was even a third in the parents' relationship. if it was the latter, it would definitely be a little harder to get her to sleep with him, but he always liked a good challenge.

"harry," his mom pulls him from his thoughts. he blinks and suddenly his mom and the nanny (slash possible unicorn) were standing in front of him at the other side of the table. "this is lynn, kathleen's daughter."

"who's kathleen?" he takes a drink from his cup (which held nothing but ice cubes and water) before wiping the wetness off of his mouth with the back of his hand.

marianne's face turns red, "kathleen from yoga." she says it slowly like it should ring a bell, but harry's not too familiar with the attendees of the 'Yoga Over 40' class. "kathleen and i thought you guys should talk. maybe get to know each other today," and before harry can open his mouth to say no thank you, marianne is pulling a chair out for the girl and then walks away.

"i'm lynn," she says like marianne didn't introduce her thirty seconds ago. she holds out her hand, but harry's already in a foul mood and he senses lynn (he thinks that is a terrible name) would be an easy target to humiliate.

so instead of shaking her hand like a decent human being, he looks at her over the top of his sunglasses and pops the spearmint gum he's been chewing since he got here. "not interested."

"don't flatter yourself," she rolls her eyes and leans forward, resting her forehead on the palms of her hands before crossing her arms in front of her.

"so you're telling me you weren't just begging my mom to introduce us?" his eyebrow quirks and he has a small smile forming on his lips. "'cause it looked an awful lot like that."

she smiles at him, white teeth and all, "trust me when i say i would rather act as a speed bump at the entrance of this neighborhood, waiting to be taken out of my misery by an unsuspecting hybrid toyota prius."

"weirdly specific," he takes another drink. "is that some sort of kink of yours?"

"maybe," her eyes bore into his. the look on her face is so bland, harry can't quite get a read on her. she looked the opposite of him. lynn had blonde hair and blue eyes. the only thing the two had in common was their curly hair, and so harry was obligated to think that it wasn't totally unattractive. "is yours watching mommy pick up girls at the neighborhood picnic for you?"

"ha. ha," harry's voice is emotionless. "tell me, lynn. have you ever considered going into comedy?"

"no, but i'm certain that everyone in the local comedy crowd would love my work. i'm thinking i could enter a piece titled 'desperate mom tries to pawn off loser son'. what do you think? i could credit you if you'd like." she smiles at him again, and he can tell by her eyes that her smile is fake. harry thinks if she were wearing sunglasses he might think she was trying to make a joke rather than a dig at him.

"kathleen thought we should talk," he reminds her. "i wouldn't be climbing on your high horse just yet."

the silence that followed hung around them like a cloud, and it was quite awkward. lynn didn't seem to mind though. she was off in her own world, daydreaming about god knows what. if harry were to take a guess, he'd bet that she was thinking of fairies and rainbows, or whatever else children under the age of eight think about during their free time.

"do you want to get out of here?" harry's popping the gum in his mouth again. "we could have sex. i will say you're not my usual type, but i can always appreciate a good body.

"gross," she leans back in her chair, her face showing disgust almost as if his words could contaminate her. "what's your usual type? wait let me guess," she taps her finger on her chin for a moment. "brown hair and pretty green eyes. i assume it's the closest thing you'll get to fulfilling the fantasy you have of fucking yourself."

"you think my eyes are pretty," he says, completely disregarding whatever else she said.

"i can appreciate nice eyes when i see them," she says. "don't fall in love with me yet."

lynn's wearing her hair pulled away from her face, and harry thinks it suits her. she has some sort of matching outfit on. it's shorts and a button-up top, made out of the same soft material. it's baby pink, like her lips, and she's dainty?? harry doesn't know if that's the right word, but she looks small and soft. like if she were in an arm wrestling competition with a fly, the fly would win. the tiniest smile, really it was barely a smile, makes its way to his face because... well, he thinks she's pretty.

"got something on my face?" she asks, and harry's waiting for a snide remark to follow, but she's serious. lynn has no idea that he just spent the last five minutes shamelessly checking her out. the fact that he was caught makes his cheeks burn a little, and harry shakes his head.

"you know, maybe we should get out of here after all," her fingertips brush over the back of his hand as she speaks.

"you want me to rock your world, huh blondie?"

she nods and sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. harry feels his whole body growing hot as she leans towards him again. "you wanna know what would really rock my world, harry?"

"hmm?" he hums, leaning forward to meet her in the middle of the table. honestly, this whole thing was wildly inappropriate for the high point hills annual family barbecue, but he didn't really care.

"you taking me back to yours," she leans even closer and harry can feel her words against his ear. "and letting me have the longest, most-mind blowing nap i've ever had."

"you're sick, lynn," he pulls away from her to see one of her fake smiles across her face. "but, i never leave a woman unsatisfied. let's go."

"really?"

"your prius wet dream sounds hotter with every second that passes here," he stretches his arms above his head when he stands up. "and not having to hear your voice is a huge plus."

"has anyone ever told you how charming you are, harry?" she accidentally bumps him with her hip as they walk towards his car together.

"your mom has multiple times actually. she tells me after every night we spend together," and he bumps her back, maybe a little too hard because she almost loses her balance when their hips collide.

12 JUNE 2018

throughout grade school, lynn could always count the number of friends she had on a singular hand at any given time. it wasn't that she was disliked or anything like that. she was just rather quiet and didn't feel the urge to talk to anyone unless she was being spoken to. her senior year friend group only took up four out of her five fingers, and it consisted of jacqueline, luke, silas, and violet. they met in their mathletes club at the beginning of her and silas's senior year. both luke and violet were juniors, and jackie was only a sophomore. the five of them parted ways, each going to a different college in various different states. luke ended up being the closest to her when she was in college, and even then he was four states away.

however, the distance didn't keep them apart. it was a tradition that they all met at least once a year, usually in their hometown. they would go out, maybe grab a drink, or go to the local bowling alley, but this year, jackie was in her final semester, taking the three condensed summer courses she needed to graduate when everyone was in town. having never skipped a year in nearly a decade, the five of them decided to have dinner on jackie's campus in between two of her night classes. that's how lynn found herself sitting around boxes and boxes of take out and drinking cheap wine out of hydroflask surrounded by her best friends.

"how's ren, silas?" jackie's voice pulls her back into the conversation. "i thought you'd bring them."

silas takes lynn's hydroflask from her hands, and swallows a huge gulp before clearing his throat. "i asked them to marry me," he hands the drink back to lynn. "and they said no. i guess they weren't really the marriage type."

"dude," luke shoves him. "why didn't you tell any of us?"

"it was something i needed to figure out on my own. i loved ren, you all know that, but i really want the whole thing. marriage, kids, all of it. in a way, i was the one who left them, but.. ren's engaged. i found out last night, and i don't really know how to feel about it."

"i'm sorry, si," lynn rests her head on her friend's shoulder. "you deserve better than that."

"when did you guys break up?" everyone turns to glare at violet, but silas offers her a smile.

"six months ago. i think it's a valid time frame, but we were together for four years so," he shrugs. "i don't want to think too far into it. as long as ren's happy.. that's what matters to me."

"why can't all men be like you?" jackie says. "when i broke up with chad, he stalked me for a week before sending me a $500 venmo request for wasting his time."

"his name's chad, jackie," luke laughs. "i'm not sure what you were expecting."

luke's eyes catch lynn's and he smiles at her so warmly she can't help but smile back. the two dated briefly when they were in college, keeping their romance strictly between them. but every time luke smiles at her like that, it reminds her of the many times she'd open her dorm door to find him sitting on her bed, grinning at her like... actually, there was really nothing to compare it to. she called it his sunshine smile because it was warm and bright, and it was all hers.

and then one day it wasn't. lynn remembers sitting at their yearly hangout, luke's new girlfriend glued to his side. clara yawned, he gave her that smile, and then took her home early. lynn wanted to rip that smile off his face and put it in her pocket to be hers to keep forever. and when luke showed up at her door the next morning asking if she was sure—if them not being together was really what she wanted. she said yes, and the dream of ever getting that sunshine smile back was crushed.

so now she settles for the close-lipped, warm smiles luke offers. she takes them in and tries so hard to lock them up in her memory. the way luke made her feel is something she never wants to forget, and she can't believe she threw it all away for some dick that lived across the hall.

sometimes when she can't sleep at night she thinks of luke's drunk phone call. he was a blubbering mess, but she managed to make out when he asked if lynn had cheated on him, and when lynn said 'no, but we should break up', he cried. she couldn't bring herself to hang up, so she sat there for nearly ten minutes listening to luke's heart break. she wonders if luke remembers that phone call, too.

his sunshine smiles are still reserved for clara (til death do them part), and the only other people he shares them with are their children, a toddler named thomas and a baby named ivy, and every time she sees them she can't help but wonder if they were supposed to be hers. it's not that she was still in love with luke or anything like that. she loved him in the most platonic way possible, but she deeply missed what they shared because it was good. he was good.

"earth to lynn," silas waving his hand in front of her face is what brings her back. "come back to us, darling."

"sorry, she sits up, no longer leaning on her friend. "i don't know where i went."

"are you still not sleeping?" violet's voice is so full of concern and it makes lynn's cold, grinch-like heart grow a few sizes.

"i sleep during the day," she stuffs a spoonful of the cake silas had brought. "it works. i'm okay."

"you know we love you," luke says. "you can always stay with clara and i."

"don't know if you'd want that. i'd probably steal ivy," she takes another bite. "god, she is one cute baby."

the group laughs, and lynn disappears in her own head for the next hour. she doesn't come back until jackie stands up, declaring she'll be late for her next lecture, and the rest of the group follows. luke leaves a few minutes later when clara sends a picture of ivy in her pajamas, and lynn thinks that she should never take him up on his offer because she would definitely make national news for kidnapping the girl. violet leaves with him because they parked next to each other, and she doesn't remember where that was exactly.

"thank you," silas says. "for not telling them about ren." lynn had known since the night of the doomed proposal. silas had called her from the comfort of his beaten-up honda civic and cried to her for hours.

she nodded, "of course. you asked me not to."

"yeah," he leans back on the blanket, and lynn follows him. the sun was just setting and she thought the sky was gorgeous. "i know." his voice breaks off, and she knows he's crying.

"silas?"

"hm?"

"did you know luke and i were together?"

"what?" he sits up, wide-eye staring at the girl.

"when?"

"a few years ago. when we were both in college."

"it was bad?"

"it was good," lynn says around a yawn. "so good, actually. sometimes i'm scared i won't have anything on that level again."

silas runs a hand through his hair, and furrows his brows. "what happened?"

"i left him for you know who," her hands grip his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. "and silas, please don't tell anyone this, but i regretted it for so long."

"you don't anymore?"

"no," she shakes her head and her hands fall to her lap. "seeing him with his family, silas. he's so happy, and that's worth every second of pain i caused. that's why i'm telling you this. if ren is really happy, it'll be worth it. i promise. it'll all feel okay."

silas pulls lynn into his chest, and she can feel his tears wetting her hair. "im so grateful for you, el. so incredibly grateful for you."

"you know i feel the same about you."

when he pulls away, he's looking at her with misty eyes and saying he needs to go catch his flight. they say their goodbyes and lynn even lets a tear of her own fall because he was the person she felt the closest to out of the entire group. they were the same age, and there was something a little trauma bonding about going to college alone, hundreds of miles away from home.

lynn lays back on the blanket, everything from their dinner still left behind. she's overly tired and feels like the world would explode if she had to move another inch. a quick nap under the stars is calling her name. her eyelids are growing heavy, and-

"i could steal your purse right now," the voice startles her awake. "it's sitting so far away from you and you seem to have quite the chunk of cash hanging out."

she turns her head to see harry sitting next to her and groans. "don't you have like, i don't know, a mick jagger cosplay convention to go to."

"i'll take that as a compliment, lynn." he looks down at her. "i was just making sure you weren't dead."

"how thoughtful," she sits up and leans back on her arms. "you should've just left me for the vultures, though. being picked apart by them sounds much more appealing than having a nice little chitchat with you."

"always flattering yourself, aren't you, blondie?" he gives her a lopsided smile. "couldn't have anyone finding your dead body on my campus after i took you home with me a week ago. it's too suspicious. plus, my mom doesn't really have the time to be making #freeharry posters and organizing rallies."

"i, in ghost form, would learn to speak to children just so i could tell my sisters you're guilty."

"that's who you were with at the barbecue?" he leans back on his arms to match lynn. "your sisters?"

"yeah," her finger pulls the collar of her shirt away from her neck. "i'd prefer not to talk about them right now."

"okay," he drops his head to the side, and he looks at her. it was so unfair that such pretty were wasted on someone like him.

"what? you don't have a list of questions ready to rapid fire at me? that seems unlike you."

"of course i do," he says. "but you said you didn't want to talk about it." eyes now narrowed, he licks his lips before finishing. "and you don't know me, lynn. not at all."

harry was right, and it made her feel a little guilty. when he took her home with her, the two didn't speak at all once they got to the car. the ride was quiet and she rested her head against the cool window and let her eyes fall shut. he showed her the guest room, and that was that. she immediately fell asleep, and when she did finally wake up, it was around midnight. harry was already sleeping, but he left her a note (which said he would take her home in the morning) and a plate of whatever he made for dinner (its important to note that harry made the entire meal free of the big 8 allergens) (because he didn't know if lynn had any food allergies). she ordered an uber instead, and miles drove her the whopping fifteen minutes to her parents' house in exchange for five stars and a three dollar tip.

"thank you," she offers him the slightest smile. really, it's so small harry would probably need a telescope to see the way the corners of her mouth were upturned. "for the other night."

"you're not the first girl to thank me for bringing them home," the words make lynn's eyes roll, and whatever guilt she felt in the very bottom of her stomach for judging harry is long gone. "im only pushing your buttons, blondie. lighten up," he nudges her with his shoulder and that is the tipping point for lynn.

"because women being sexualized by disgusting men is so funny, harry," she watches as his eyes grow wide. almost like he's shocked. like no one's ever told him differently.

"lynn, i didn't-"

she holds her hand up. "you should go."

and he does, not before giving her a pained look which only made her want to roll her eyes harder. lynn watches him leave and pretends not to notice the way his shoulders are slouched over more than they were the first time and the way he drags his feet like he's a thousand pounds heavier. her eyes focus back on the squirrel that's still running around the tree once he's out of sight. why were college campus squirrels always so large?

the next thing she knows, jackie is poking her side and pressing her palm against lynn's chest almost as if she was checking if her heart was still beating. a sigh falls from the girl's lips when she realizes that lynn is alive, and she can see a line in between the girls brows through her half closed eyelids. she notices jackie's chest heaving, almost like she was trying to steady her breathing. the heavy, hot ball of guilt finds it's way back into her stomach. she hates having her friends worry about her.

"sorry, jackie. i fell asleep," she yawns and reaches above her head to stretch out her back.

"are you okay, lynn?" jackie's staring at her with such intensity, she thinks this is probably what it feels like to be in an interrogation room after your life-long enemy mysteriously disappeared. "like genuinely, are you doing alright?"

"im tired," she offers her a big smile. "that's all. im fine."

jackie narrows her eyes and tilts her head skeptically, and lynn is doing her very best to not burst into tears because there's no reason for her to be crying. her friend's face softens, and she stands up, reaching her hand down to lynn.

"c'mon. let's clean up. you're staying the night at mine." lynn doesn't argue because she really does want to stay with her friend. it's been so long since she's slept at jackie's despite her only living an hour away from the girl's school. "and i usually take the bus, so you're driving."

lynn smiles at her as she helps pick up the dinner mess that the group had left, and she can't help but wonder how she was lucky eough to have such great friends. they've known each other for nearly a decade, and still care for each other the same way they did back in high school. she knows that if she were to tell jackie how she moved out months ago and still hasn't slept through the night at her own place, silas's flight would be missed and violet would drive the six hours back just to be with her.

deep down, lynn knows she can't sleep because of something a little bigger than an uncomfortable bed, but she chooses to ignore it because her therapist had said she was doing very well, or whatever that meant. it was like her doctor just marked her with a stamp, big red lettering reading 'HEALED' across her forehead, and that was supposed to make everything feel okay forever. her friends and family were so proud of this milestone, lynn didn't know if she would ever be able to tell them that maybe the big red stamp was wrong. and that was the thing, it didn't always feel wrong. only during those long sleepless nights and cloudy, rainy days.

she feels lied to, really. everyone said healing wasn't something that just happened overnight, and of course, she knew that. (who didn't know that?) they pushed this idea that lots of therapy and sometimes a few medications would help her get better. and that's the thing. she did feel better. with each hour spent on her therapist's couch came the slightest bit of feeling better.

what she didn't realize was that feeling better and feeling yourself again weren't mutually exclusive. she feels a thousand times better and yet she's never felt farther from who she used to be. honestly, that version of her might be dead, and that is something she never wants to face.

"i've lost you again, lynn," jackie's leaning over the center console to rest her head on her friend's shoulder. "that brain of yours must be pretty nice for you to be spending so much time in there."

"i just got the biggest feeling of deja vu," lynn brushes off her worries as she parks in the designated parking spot. "this is new, right? i haven't visited you here before?"

the two girls meet at the front of the car, lynn helping the other with her huge course textbooks that probably cost more than her rent.

"don't think so. luke and clara brought the babies to visit once, but i don't remember if you were there."

lynn shakes her head. it wasn't that she avoided luke and clara, but she tried to spend minimal time around them.

jackie lives on the fourth floor of her complex. each staircase has approximately thirty-two (she counted) stairs, and by the time they get to the top, lynn is completely out of breath. she leans on the wall outside of the girl's apartment door as she fumbles through her tote bag full of god knows what.

"i was in such a rush this morning," she gives her a sympathetic smile. "i just tossed my keys in here."

lynn holds back a groan as jackie piles whatever else she's holding on top of the stack of books in her hands and then kneels on the ground, dumping out the contents of her bag as she searches for her keys that look to be nowhere in sight. she hears an elevator ding and lynn wants to do nothing more than roughly shove her friend over with her foot because why did they walk all the way up ninety-six stairs when there was a perfectly functioning elevator mere feet away?

"why didn't we take the elevator, ja-"

the most obscene kissing sounds fall out of the elevator as soon as the door opens. it sounds like someone is slowly pulling one hundred suction cups painfully slow off of the walls in there and lynn wonders if it's some kind of swingers group because there's no way two people could be kissing that aggressively.

"found them," jackie stands up, brushes off her pants, and looks towards the elevator.

"m'neighbor... has someone over every night."

she's proven wrong when a girl walks out, her arms draped around a boy's neck. he's kissing her and walking her back so she's pressed against the wall, and lynn can't look away. not even when the two turn, and she realizes its harry. not even when harry's eyes catch her stare. and not even when the girl starts sucking on any exposed skin her mouth could reach (harry was still looking at lynn) (and she was still looking at him) (and his lips looked nearly bruised) (not that it matters).

jackie steps between them, and by the time she grabs all of her things, harry and the girl are in his apartment. she can't help the small laugh that escapes when she realizes the girl had brown hair and pretty green eyes.

✰✰✰✰

a/n: all of this is getting reposted because the format is driving me absolutely craaaazy :(

[bawuoooooom]

uhh i love my little ppny and its just occurred to me that there are like.20 charcaters in ninjago that share vocie actors with my little pony characters (YES I KNOW THAT ITS THE VOICE ACTORS JOB TO VIICE CHARACTERS BUT JUST. LET ME HAVE THIS MOMENT)  so heres a list of how many

Ashleigh Ball - (MLP) Rainbow Dash & Applejack - (NINJAGO) Young Aspheera, Sally, & Dr. LaRow

Andrea Libman - (MLP) Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy - (NINJAGO) Nyad

Tabitha St. Germain - (MLP) Rarity - (NINJAGO) Akita, Murtessa & Ginkle

Kazumi Evans - (MLP) Rarity's Singing Voice (?) & Adagio Dazzle - (NINJAGO) Wyldfyre

Sam Vincent - (MLP) Flim (flimflam brothers) - (NINJAGO) Lloyd (S8 and up) Dwyane(??) (Boobytraps & How To Survive Them)

Jillian Micheals - (MLP G3) Razzaroo - (NINJAGO) S1-S7 Lloyd, Maya, Edna, Selma (Mother of Skales Jr.)

Cathy Weseluck - (MLP) Spike, Mayor Mare (?) - (NINJAGO) Patty Keys

Nicole Oliver - (MLP) Princess Celestia, Cheerilee (?) - (NINJAGO) Dogshank, Empress Beatrix

Britt McKillip - (MLP) Princess Cadence - (NINJAGO) Hoerumi

Vincent Tong - (MLP) Flash Sentry, Prince Blueblood, Donut Joe, Sandbar - (NINJAGO) Kai

Andrew Francis - (MLP) Shining Armor - (NINJAGO) Morro, Cole

Kelly Sheridan - (MLP) Starlight Glimmer, Indigo Zap - (NINJAGO) Kreel, Gayle Gossip, Orange Ninja (?)

Kathleen Barr - (MLP) Trixie, Queen Chrysalis - (NINJAGO) Misakhoe [ thanx to scatterbrainedgremlin for this info! ]

thats all i know if i got something wrong or you know another va that voices an mlp and ninjago character lmk

[thatbanditqueen]

Aphrodite's Curse

The last of this year's Elvis-o-ween one shots.....

A hastily written spooky smutfest that may be my worst writing yet?

Summary: Loosely based on Elvis' affair with Elisabeth Stefaniak, this one shot finds our boy during his Army service living in Bad Neuheim and playing the field, much to the chagrin of his shy, live-in secretary and girlfriend Bettina.

Warnings: MINORS DNI Sex stuff, infidelity, angsty angst, lots of typos and probably nonsensical sentences.

WC: 6.2 K

Thursday, September 9th, 1959

Goethestraße 14, Bad Nauheim, West Germany

Approximate 10:45 p.m.

Bettina watched from across the room as Elvis whispered a joke to the Australian girl sitting beside him on the piano bench. What was her name, Julie? Cynthia? Her shriek was so loud and jarring it made Bettina bite her lip, and she winced at the coppery taste on her tongue, mad at herself for being so jumpy. Elvis hit a minor key and lost his place in the song, which made him turn and yell at Charlie.

“Watch ya chords now, watch it Foggy Bottom Boy. Made me loose my place. Some times I think ya head got water logged crossin’ over.”

Elvis sighed, then went back to tinkering around on the keys, settling on singing the ballad “I’ll Take You Home Again Kathleen” directly to Julia, whose giggles now filled the room. There were a handful of people over tonight, in addition to the Aussies that Lamar had brought home from the beer hall. No doubt he had hoped to get lucky with one of them, but both girls had been hovering around Elvis since they arrived, and Lamar had now plopped onto the couch with a pout. Bettina caught Rex looking over at her, and she rolled her eyes and tilted her head at Elvis, trying to get Rex to smile. Elvis had been singing this song all week. But there was more than just teasing camaraderie in Rex’s eyes. There was sympathy too in the way he narrowed his gaze at her. Bettina frowned and turned her eyes down to stare down at her shoes. She pulled on her necklace and crossed her arms around herself as tight as she could. You wished for this, you are living the dream, she told herself as she leaned further into the shadows.

Meeting Elvis last year had been her dream. Was it only a year ago? How had her life changed so completely in one year? She had left that shy, inexperienced eighteen year old girl who had spent her nights hoping to get Elvis’ autograph back in Graferwohr. The night Rex noticed her and took her to meet Elvis had been the happiest night of her life. Elvis had walked her home and kissed her good night against the tree in front of her apartment building. His lips had been so sweet, his hands so tender. They had lifted her off the ground and she was pretty sure she had just floated up to her bedroom knowing nothing in life would ever top this experience.

But then Elvis had shown up at her door, her door, again the next night and invited himself to dinner. He spent the week at their apartment, flirting with her mother, playing their piano and then kissing her good night when she walked him out. No, nothing could ever top this.

But then, as she braced herself to bid him farewell at the end of his training he invited her to come live with him in Bad Neuheim and be his secretary. You could have knocked her over with a feather. Because Bettina knew from the way he kissed her that he was not just asking her to be his secretary. She knew he was bringing her home to be his girlfriend, and make all her wishes come true.

If only she had been more specific and wished to be his only girlfriend.

Now here she was, spending her evenings unsure if Elvis would spend the night with her or another girl he met. The music stopped and Bettina glanced up to see Elvis whisper again to the girl sitting next to him. His hand caressed the girl’s shoulder and then she blushed and nodded. A minute later she stood and disappeared through the door on the other side of the living room toward the back staircase. He thinks he is being so clever, Bettina thought. In ten or fifteen minutes he’ll declare himself ready for bed and go join her. It was a performance Bettina knew all too well.

Elvis continued play songs on the piano, singing “I Asked the Lord” next and then a few other American pop songs. Charlie was harmonizing with Elvis, but now he, too, was shooting her a sorrowful look. Ugh. Bettina felt a prickle behind her eyes and had to blink back her tears. She wanted to recede through the wall.

But that is not how walls work. They do not just open up and transport you to a better place when you feel uncomfortable. Had she ever felt more alone than she did here in a room full of soldiers, wives, dates and random women who all ignored her ?

Thinking of this, Bettina sucked on the part of her lip that she had bitten and decided to flee to the kitchen. She grabbed a Fanta and the sweet, citrus drink stung her lip. But she kept gulping it down, forcing herself to drink it all. At least it got rid of the bitter taste of blood in her mouth.

The other Australian stumbled through the swinging door to the kitchen and dipped her head as she took a Dr. Pepper from the ice in the sink.

“Oh hiya. Gosh, our own private Elvie concert, eh? Must be sweet as honey working as Elvis Presley’s secretary, faffing around with him and this lot all the time.”

Bettina took another sip of her drink, looking the blonde up and down. “Ja, sweet as honey. It is, as they say, the most.”

“Yeah, s’what I thought, ol Elvie is so much more handsome in person, and so fun too. We’re all just mad for him back in ‘straya.”

“Hmmm, ja, he is so fun.”

Bettina smiled and nodded big before she excused herself and made her own way upstairs and then down the narrow hallway to her bedroom. She could hear Dodger snoring in the room next to her's. Stopping outside Elvis’ room,  the faint sound of girlish giggles hummed through the door, followed by a loud THUMP on the bed. It made Bettina’s tummy drop, and she had to steady herself against the wall. She didn’t even brush her teeth, she want straight to bed. All she wanted was to slip under her covers and disappear into oblivion. The taste of orange Fanta was still on her lips, sweet and bitter.

It was before dawn when she heard the door to her room creak open. Half asleep, Bettina stirred and straightened her back as she felt someone climb into bed behind her. A tall, long lanky someone. She knew without looking it was Elvis. Still miffed, she kept her eyes closed and turned her head away as he pulled her into him.

“There she is, can’t sleep without ma little Fog Horn.” His breath was warm on her neck, and he nuzzled his chin into her shoulder. ”Ugh, honey, I’m plum tuckered out.” He leaned over her, giving her a final kiss on her ear before settling in with his arms around her.

When Bettina woke up she was in his arms and her head rested over his chest, her breath keeping time with each lift and fall of his body. His palm was flat against her back and she could feel his fingers trace circles slowly into the silk fabric of her night dress. The dim light of dawn shone in through the window, painting the room in a pinkish dreamy haze. She thought of all the things she wanted to tell him. How she could still smell a foreign perfume on his bare chest. Or ask him in a snarky tone what happened to his other friend. But then his mouth was crushing into the top of her forehead and each kiss reminded her that he was there, with her. Not anyone else. And the reassurance of his physical body, here and now, longing for her, made her heart swell with desire. His fingers stroked away all her hurt and jealous qualms like sunshine chasing away the clouds, and she was his completely once more.

Bettina tilted her head to meet his lips and he moaned into her mouth. “Aw Betty, this is always ma favorite part of the day.”

The smell of Elvis’ musky sweat and pomade filled Bettina’s nose when he shifted himself over her. His knees grazing hers as a goofy, bashful smile spread across his face. Below her waist his fingers pulled at the hem of her night dress.

 “I mean it honey, s’only thing that gets me through the day.”

His eyes turned downward, and Bettina shivered with anticipation as he languidly rolled the beige silk fabric up her thigh, inch my inch, savoring the way he gasped out at the sight of her white panties. She lifted her hips to help him pull them off and sighed out when he slide his fingers between her legs. Then his breath was at her neck and he was nibbling her ear, all the while flicking his fingers back and forth over her sensitive nub.

“She’s such a pretty baby. Prettiest baby he ever found. He’s so lucky to find a lil angel like hers in Germany.”

Elvis awkwardly fumbled at his belt, shaking his head as he had to sit back to  to get his pants off. Bettina rolled her teeth over her lip, feeling the sensitive spot where she had bit herself again. She was happiest right here, looking up at Elvis as he eagerly struggled to get his clothes off and make love to her. The warmth of the sheets enveloped her and she gave him a single nod of approval as he parted her legs. Her hands clutched  his back, roving over his shoulder blades as he thrust gently into her. Moaning out, she focused on his eyes and how intent they were as she relaxed and opened herself to him.  His lip hung open in apt concentration and she bucked into him as he steadily rocked back and forth.

An aching tingling pleasure coiled in her belly each time their hips met, and Elvis leaned down closer as he sunk further into her. Kissing her neck and whispering sweetly about how pretty she was, and how much she meant to him. He found the spot that made her cry out, and the metal frame of her bed began to bang lightly against the wall as he increased his rhythm. She could hold back no longer and moaned out as her orgasm burst through. Just then the door to Grandma's room slammed shut and Elvis quickly covered her mouth with his hands to muffle the sound of her cries as Dodger’s footsteps echoed through the hallway on the other side of the wall.

He shook his head, sssshing her with a michievous grin. Bettina made a face, as if to say she couldn’t help it and Elvis’s grin became a squeezed, pained expression. His movements become more erratic and he began to stutter before he pulled out and finished over her belly. Afterwards, he caught his breath and fell back into the pillows panting, drawing Bettina into him as the sweat cooled over their bodies and they heaved together. She leaned into his chest hair and whispered “Ich liebe dich,” and he stroked her head, mumbling “me too, baby, me too.”

At five a.m. he kissed her forehead and pulled on his pants, looking both ways out of her door before departing with a wink.  Bettina waited until he showered and went downstairs before she got up to follow.

6 a.m. Friday, September 10th 1959

Goethestraße 14, Bad Nauheim, West Germany

Dodger was pouring another cup of coffee for her son and grandson when Bettina came into the dining room and blushed at the sight of Elvis’ grandmother.

Some nights he snuck into her room late at night, some nights he would whisper for her to see him in his bedroom. Either way, she was certain the old woman could hear the creak of the mattress from their late night and early morning activities. For that matter, Bettina guessed that Elvis’ father Vernon also knew how things were between his son and her. But whatever his thoughts on the matter were, Vernon kept them to himself.

Elvis stood to leave with a mouth still chewing bacon, egg and tomato sandwich. This did not stop him from kissing first Dodger and then Bettina on the cheek and wishing his babies a good day. Bettina downed a cup of coffee and helped Grandma clean up.

“God knows that youngun’ has the world on his shoulders. S’too much for one boy to bear. He is lucky to have a nice girl like you, Betty.”

Dodger looked her in the eye, before lifting up the loaf of cornbread that Vernon’s new girlfriend, Dee, had brought over. Dodger sniffed it with a tight grimace before tossing it in the trash.

“That Stanley woman has about as much business messing with corn bread as she does messing with my son.”

Bettina giggled, and the two woman made quick work of clearing up the kitchen together before Bettina went to work sorting through Elvis’ fan mail and sending back photographs that she signed for him.

It was a cheerful, fall day, and the house was in high spirits when Elvis came back for lunch to eat with Lamar and Cliff. It was only after Frau Pieper, the house keeper, brought Bettina the latest stack of mail that she felt her spirits waver again.

There on the top was a pink envelope addressed to Bettina. This was what Elvis told his girlfriends back in Memphis to do in order to make sure their correspondence didn’t get mixed up with the fan mail. Looking at the return address, this letter was from Anita Wood.

Frau Pieper muttered under her breath in German as she watched Bettina hesitate.

“Ack, you should be ashamed of yourself, cheapening your body for that American. You will never be anything more to him than a bed warmer.”

Bettina stared down at the wood floor, studying the grain and the scratches there.

“You are just jealous, Frau Pieper.  I see the way you look at Elvis, how you hug him. You find him just as irresistible as I do.”

The housekeeper grinned. “If I were your age, I would be visiting Golde Wolff for a love spell.”

“Golde Wolff? A love spell?” Bettina turned back and arched her eyebrows, unsure she had heard Frau Pieper correctly.

“Ja, the old Jewish witch on Friedensstraße.”

Bettina rubbed her hands together. “I heard there were no Jews left in Bad Neuheim after -”

“Ja, Golde Wolff is the last Jew, she hid in a basement of one of the abandoned houses for ten years. They say she only came out during the darkest nights to forage for herbs and food.” Frau Pieper leaned in, whispering in a hushed tone.  “The men who burned the synagogue and marched the Jews to the trains died tragically. All of them. At different times. She cursed them with her magical spells.”

“Hmmm, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

Frau Pieper put her hands in her apron and leveled Bettina with a look as sharp as a knife.

“I do. My sister took my niece Elfriede to Golde Wolff when no doctor could cure her fever. Today, Elfriede is married and lives a full life. If you want to fix that boy who treats you like a pig, go to Friedensstraße.”

Bettina laughed, and then grabbed Anita’s pink letter, as if to show Frau Pieper how aloof she was, how accommodating and at ease she could be knowing she was one of the many women in Elvis’ life. Frau Pieper was just another ignorant, superstitious small town old lady. Witches. Honestly. It was just how the old guard masked their prejudice to Jews today in 1959.

“It’s women like you who are holding this country back.” She muttered in English smiling all the while at the housekeeper, knowing she didn’t speak English.

But Frau Pieper’s words were harder to dispel and Bettina found they stayed with her through the day.

You will never be anything more to him than a bed warmer. The boy who treats you like a pig.

These words poked at her, digging deep into the recesses of her subconscious, the part of her that was not cool and aloof. The part of her that wanted more. That told her if she was just prettier, funnier, more charming Elvis would not want to be with other girls. And she could have him all to herself.

A darkness settled over Bettina’s mood. Not even the bright light of Elvis’ smile could fully put her at ease when he got home and squeezed her waist, teasing her with a mouth full of coconut cake. No, her mood only darkened as the night wore on, and it got harder to cover it with a forced smile after the two Australian girls returned and gleefully smiled when Elvis invited them both up to his room. He did not visit Bettina that night, and the next day she heard him bragging to Lamar and Cliff at lunch.

“Man oh man, ain’t nothin’ like a pack a wild Australian gals. Almost too much, jack. I’m tellin’ ya. Pounced on me like a couple a tigers. Grrrrr. Know what I mean? All I gotta say is, look out.” They laughed. “I don’t know bout all that, like my girls to act like girls, ya know? Them cats was too aggressive. Think I got some scratch marks.” This was followed by another round of sycophantic laughter, and a joke from Elvis about how Lamar likes his guys to act like girls.

It was all Bettina could do to keep her smile steady when she met Elvis in the hallway and accepted a farewell kiss on the cheek.

“There’s my gal.” His crooked smile melted her heart. “Why can’t every gal be like you, Betty? Ya just pretty and so sweet.”

That’s why you don’t need every girl, you just need me, she thought to her self.

It was not long after this that Bettina  gathered her things and ventured out to find Friedensstraße.

It was not late, only half past three when Bettina got down to the town square. Yet for some reason it was already getting dark. The uneven cobblestones in the street  rose to meet Bettina’s shoes as if they were trying to trip her, and she felt as if the town was progressively getting darker as she made her way through what must have been the old Jewish quarter.  Bettina walked all the way down Friedensstraße, but there was no sign or business that looked like it belonged to a witch. She wasn’t sure what kind of store front a witch would have. She hadn’t wanted to give Frau Pieper the satisfaction of knowing she was taking the old women’s advice, and so had just gone to town hoping she would find it. It was only on her third trip sauntering back up Friedensstraße that she noticed the dark, narrow alley and the little flag sticking up from a basement several buildings down. Bettina’s heart beat faster as she stumbled toward the sign, finally able to read the tattered cloth in the dark depth of the alley: “Der Apotheker.”

The rail at the top of the stairs down to the basement door was wet, and Bettina gripped it tightly, unsure whether to go through with this visit. She didn’t believe in witches, she didn’t believe in magic. At the bottom of the stairs was a door painted black, and in the middle a faded yellow star. It almost looked as if a circle or marking had been drawn around it, and Bettina was just squinting to try and make it out when the door flew open and she felt the wind push her forward until she was stumping into a dimly lit parlor.

“Come here, mine kindela.”

A soft throaty voice called from the back of the room, where a short, stout older women stood. Her hair was cut in a short grey bob, and her dress was a smart mustard yellow floral print. The kind popular after the war had ended. A golden dragonfly pin lifted the hair off the right side of the women’s face, and adiamonds sparkled in the dragonfly's wings.

This was the old Jewish witch? She was trim and clean and friendly and could have been someone’s grandmother. Comparatively, Frau Pieper looked more like a fat old hag. But then Bettina noticed something eerie about the way Golde Wolff smiled at her

“I ve been waiting for you. Have a seat, have a seat.” Golde motioned to the chairs at a dark red table in the center of the room.

Bettina looked around as she sat, the walls of the basement were painted a dark, burgundy color. Underneath her was a Persian rug with navy, gold and burgundy detailed patterns swirling around. As Bettina tread over it she could almost swear the patterns were moving. Shelves lined the back half of the parlor, stacked with glass jars filled with plants and powders and god knows whatelse. A stained glass lamp decorated with dragonflies in the mosaic and around the metal base was the only light in the room, save for a candle burning in the middle of the table.

“I’m, I’m not really sure why I’m here.”

Golde sat down across from her, folding her hands on the table.

“You want a spell. A love spell, no?”

Bettina nodded, her mouth hung open.

“if I do this, you can never go back. There is no remedy. Do you really want to make someone love you?”

 “I - he, uh. He already loves me. He tells me all the time. I just want, I want him to love only me.”

Golde nodded, petting the black cat who suddenly appeared and jumped up into her lap.

“Ah, yes, a spell to bring forth feelings that are already there. Focus them. Well, there will be a price.”

“Would I have to sacrifice something I want, like not being able to have children?”

“No, no. A cost, forty marks to be exact.”

"Oh, ha."

Bettina pulled out her wallet, that was half a week’s wages. She swallowed hard and handed over the money. Golde smiled and put out her hand.

“I need something of yours and something of his.”

Bettina pulled out the white, ivory bone comb she had found in Elvis’ room before she left, and then plucked a hair from her own head, placing the the black and brown strands into the witch’s palm. 

Whack! The cat jumped on the table and began to rub against Bettina’s shoulder, purring.

“Wait here, Rumi will keep you company.”

And so Bettina scratched Rumi behind his ears and watched as the witch pulled out jars and poured ingredients into a mortar, grinding it up with a pestle. Twenty minutes later, Golde was pouring the mixture into a glass jar and handing the deep red candle to Bettina.

“You must say your intention out loud then light the candle immediately and let it burn over night. Put it somewhere well protected where the flame can burn strong, creating a robust foundation for your love. When the candle has burned out, your spell will be complete.”

Bettina lit the candle the minute she got back, and left it burning on top of her dresser far from the window or the door. She could tell the magic was working immediately. Elvis was sweet to her the whole night through, pulling her on to his lap as he cajoled Cliff to entertain them with some of his stories, and keeping her near him all evening. His hands were at her waist, caressing her back and forth with his thumbs, his knee between her legs, naughtily pushing up and down. And when it was time for bed, he put his hand around her shoulder and guided her upstairs in front of the other guests.

 5 a.m. Saturday, September 12th , 1959

Goethestraße 14, Bad Nauheim, West Germany

At dawn he was furtively rubbing against her, half asleep with a full erection, and Bettina turned into him, bringing him between her legs for their morning love making ritual. She sighed as he pressed his dry lips to her neck, and peppered her clavicle with kisses as they banged the metal frame into the wall clumsily rocking and grunting into the day.

The candle had burned down to the bottom when Bettina checked it, and she smiled with satisfaction as she cleaned herself off and skipped down stairs to help Grandma with breakfast.

At midday she looked up from her work in the office to see Elvis jumping the high wooden fence that bordered the back yard and emerging at her window, smirking as he tapped her window. She opened it and laughed as he jumps through, helping to pull him in and then falling back against the desk.

“There is a door, you know, ja?”

Elvis’ lips curled into a wider grin and his hands held her tight. “This way was more fun. Better view.”

He waggled his eyebrows and kissed her lips, a glint in his eye.

“You are a naughty little boy.”

“Nah uh, ain’t true.” He mumbles, lifting her on to the desk and knocking over her carefully stacked piles of fan letters and autographs. “He’s a good little boy. He’s her good little boy.” Then before she knew it he was telling her to be quiet as he settled on his knees and removed her panties, and his head disappeared under her skirt. At first, his tongue tickled her, she had yet to feel totally at ease letting a man do this. But Elvis had been dutifully working all year to make Bettina comfortable being kissed between her legs. There. At her pleasure point. His voice hummed into her as he pulled her to the edge of the table. He lapped at her gently, moving his index finger into her, his tongue feathering over her at first, then gradually flicking her nub before kissing it again. Lingering, he now possessed her completely with his mouth. Bettina knocked over more stacks of mail as she tried and failed to to find the edge of the desk to hold something as her whole body began to vibrate and thrash with the overwhelming sensation of her second orgasm of the day.  She was still heaving and shuddering from the aftershocks as Elvis wiped his face on her inner thighs and licked his lips, a devilish glint in his eye.

“Mhmmm mhmmm mhmm. Guess I had my dessert fore ma meal. S’what you do to me, Betty boo.”

Bettina stayed in the office over the lunch hour, trying to compose herself and smiling. The spell had worked. She could feel it.

The spell had clearly not worked. There was no other explanation, Bettina thought, as she stood in her usual perch at the edge of the living room and watched Elvis talk and flirt with Heli, one of the other pretty young German girls he was dating. Bettina thought of the intimate moments she had shared with Elvis just hours ao. This made her tummy do several more summersaults until she could no longer stand to watch them anymore. Instead, she calmly turned and fled to her office. Moments later the door handle turned, and she looked up with excitement, knowing Elvis must have been stymied by the spell and told Heli to get lost.

But it wasn’t Elvis.

“Please Rex, I’d like to just be alone, I - I have a headache.”

Rex inhaled, and instead of leaving, walked towards where she stood, looking out the window. He grabbed her wrist.

“I can’t bear to see him treat you like this, Betty. You’re so beautiful.”

“Rex stop - what are you doing? You shouldn’t be here. You know what he will do if he finds you talking to me like this.”

Rex stepped closer.

“I don’t care, I can’t stop thinking of you. I love you.”

Bettina blinked, and pulled her hand from his, looking around the room to get her bearing. She didn’t know what to do, so she slapped his face, then jumped back as if she had been the one struck. Rex floundered for something to say, but Bettina didn’t want to hear it and shuffled out as if the room was on fire, sequestering herself in her bedroom alone.

The sound of Elvis mattress bumping against the wall across the hallway drove a knife deeper and deeper into Bettina’s heart.

8 a.m. Sunday, September 13th , 1959

A dark alley off Friedensstraße,  Bad Nauheim, West Germany

The air was chilly as Bettina made her way down the steps to Golde’s door, rapping against the black paint loudly until the witch finally opened up.

“Good morning, my child, it is early for —”

“Your spell didn’t work.”

Bettina pushed her small frame through the cracked door, eyeing Golde’s gold and burgundy robes as she entered the witch’s parlor.

“That is not possible.” Golde announced, closing the door behind her.

The smell of pinewood wafted through the room, and Bettina gazed into the flames of Golde’s fire, watching them dance as she warmed her hands.

“Well, this time it is. But that is ok, I no longer want him to love me.” She turned to the witch, fists clenched. “What is the price for you to curse him?”

Golde put her hand on Bettina’s shoulder, as Rumi slinked over, mewling at the witch’s feet. “My child, you are so quick and changeable. Yesterday a love spell, today a curse. I cannot in good conscience do this. You must be mistaken, my spells always work.”

“Yesterday, he made love to me in the morning and was in bed with another women by nightfall.”

Golde stroked her chin, and walked over to the table, motioning for Bettina to join her.

“And you are certain you brought me his hair?”

“Yes, I found that comb on the floor of his room.”

“You said he loved you already. So, the spell I made for you was one for a natural love, a spell to acquire his undivided devotion where love already existed. The only explanation is that you are wrong. He does not love you. He is just using you for his carnal pleasure.”

Bettina nodded. “Ja, he seems so earnest, so sincere. But you must be right. All the more reason I want to put a curse on him.”

“You are certain? Once done, it cannot be undone.”

Bettina folded her hands, looking down at where Rumi’s black tail now wound around her ankle.

“ I was a virgin a year ago, besotted with this man. He brought me to live and work with him, he lied, telling me he loved me. And now I am stuck working for him, in love with him, watching as he romances woman after woman in front of me, and then when he is bored, he comes back to me for comfort and companionship. I do not have the strength to leave him. If I cannot have him, I want him to feel the same way I do.”

“60 deustch marks.”

Bettina sucked in her breath. Then pulled out her wallet, 60 was all she had on her, it was the most money she had ever spent on anything in her adult life. Golde stood and rummaged around in her cabinet until she pulled out a black candle, while Rumi jumped up and made himself comfortable in Bettina’s lap.

“I do not need anything except his name. After I light the candle, we must hold hands and you will recite the fate you want to blight on this man. Understood?”

Bettina shivered as a cold wind blew through the parlor.

“Yes, I understand.”

“His name?”

“Elvis Presley.”

The witch raised her eyebrow, but lit the candle never the less. She took Bettina’s hands and began to mutter an incantation in a language Bettina did not understand. Maybe it was Hebrew, but she was not sure. Somewhere amidst the doleful recitation she heard the name Elvis Presley repeated a number of times.  Then Golde stopped and raised her voice.

“Oh spirits, we beseech you, hear this poor girl’s plea.” She nodded at Bettina to continue.

“Curse him with unrequited love, may he fall in love with someone who is everything he despises, a succumbus starved for sex and male attention who wants only to use him for his fame and fortune. Whose faithfulness will match his own. Whose betrayal will make him want to die. “

WHACK!

The front door blew open, and the rushing sound of the wind filled the basement, knocking over the lamp and making Rumi run under the couch on the other side of the parlor, mewling louder and louder. Golde did not flinch, she only gripped Bettina’s hands tighter, calling out loudly.

“Here us, oh spirits, curse this Elvis Presley with the affliction of an unrequited love for a woman who embodies all that he despises, may she be the opposite of his ideal and break his heart. And when they meet he will only see her as a reflection of his ideal, his one true love, and by the time he realizes his mistake may it be too late.”

The blast of air circled them in a spiral that tangled their clothes and pulled up their hair, spinning and spinning around in a whirlwind until it blew out the candle’s flame. The front door thwacked shut. And Bettina fell back against the chair fatigued and almost unable to stand.

Somehow she summoned the strength to trudge back along the cobblestones to the house on Goethestraße. None of the guys were there when she returned, just Grandma Presley there to greet her with a pinched smile that made the old woman's cheeks cave in. Bettina thought about Mrs. Presley. Most days Grandma was her only companion. Guilt washed over her briefly for the cursing this kind women’s grandson. But then Bettina thought of Heli and the wound that still ached in her chest from hearing the sounds of their love making this morning. She thought of Julia and Cynthia. She thought of the countless times Elvis had asked her to accompany him on dates as his translator. She knew many of the women he had gone out with better than he did. And then to find that he did not even care for her? It was too much to bear. Exhausted from a hard morning of casting spells, Bettina made her way up stairs and lay down.

It was well past 7 o’clock at night when she woke up again, and she was surprised to see Rex on the floor of Elvis room as she walked past the door.

“What are you looking for?”

Rex stopped, and stood. “I haven’t been able to find my comb in days. It’s a nice, ivory number, I think Elvis and the boys took it as a prank, they were with me when I bought it in Paris.”

Bettina gasped. “No.” She faltered and fell back against the hallway. Her stomach dropped to the ground.

“What is it, my darling, are you ok? Even peaked, you are still the most beautiful -”

Just then Elvis bounded up the stairs, and Rex jumped back a mile.

“There’s my sweetheart, c’mon baby, need my best gal by my side.” Elvis hands were around Bettina’s waist, cradling her into him as he walked down stairs, yelling back at Rex.

“Looking for something Rexadus? You didn’t go and loose that fancy ass comb you bought in Paris already? You shudda seen him, Betty, made us late for our show that night, prancing round buyin that thang.”

Bettina nodded, half dazed. Her mind was racing as she pieced together the mistakes she had made over the last few days, wondering if there was any way to undo the love spell, to uncurse the curse.

She barely heard the doorbell ring or Elvis snapped at Charlie to go answer as he made his way to the piano and sat Bettina next to him as he played. She couldn’t sit still, and began to fidget with her nails. Elvis pursed his lips, and was just about to give her a lecture on proper posture when something caught his eye. Bettina turned to see his friend, Currie, being led into the room with his wife, Carol and a beautiful, shy young girl with porcelain skin, dark brown hair and an upturned nose. Elvis whistled and stopped playing to stride over and introduce himself to the newcomer.

“Howdy, I’m Elvis Pretzel.” He stammered out with an awkward laugh.

Bettina rolled her eyes as she watched him eagerly run his hand through his hair. The young girl blushed demurely.

“A pleasure, I’m sure. My name is Priscilla. Priscilla Beaulieu.”

Happy Halloween.........

tagging a few friends:

@missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @lookingforrainbows @ashtag6887 @deniseinmn @ab4eva @i-r-i-n-a-a @j-v-9-2 @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @arrolyn1114 @lialocklear @everythingelvispresley @artlover8992 @dkayfixates @kingdomforapony @louisejoy86 @notstefaniepresley @literally-just-elvis-fics @whositmcwhatsit

[m00n-and-m3]

MAKING AN INTRO POST RAHHHHH 🔥:P xD

(because i'm sick of having it all in my bio x)

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you can call me Kat McManhater, as it says in the bio🎀 i in fact do live up to my name, i'm pro radical feminism and very autistic x ♡♡♡

(sorry update this MAY be turning into an 4n4 account i'll try not to reblog too much of it tho mostly radblr stuff x)

<3

also i love pokémon, whether that's competitively or just the characters in general. i love fakemon and ocs too (can you tell i'm autistic yet)

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FANDOMS ? / idk---- apart from pokémon

bungo stray dogs (hyperfixation)

jujutsu kaisen (not much really)

daria, idrk if there's a fandom?? xD

yandere simulator (unfortunately my longest hyperfixation x)

lucky star (barely but it's a cute show)

danganronpa but i forgot half the lore and also i'm immune to cringe culture

welcome to raven brooks (again, immune to cringe culture)

fullmetal alchemist ♡♡♡ and probably more stuff i'm forgetting

IDK WHAT ELSW TO ADD BRUH 🔥

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I REMEMBERED SOMETHING XD

i like visual kei a lot, like, a lot i listen to it all hours of the day, and i love vkei even though i'm still so new to the genre🎪 <- (risley circus reference 🥶🗣️)

other music i like is like, slipknot and mcr and possibly mitski (she's cutie ♡) and i also enjoy KATHLEEN HANNA 🪷

meow meow meow 👅 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 Fax my brother! Spit your shit indeed!

discord || m00n_haunter

tiktok || kokomi_teruhashii

ANYWAY THIS IS IT FELLAS ‼️

[incesthemes]

i'm impatient so i wanted to share my handwritten notes for 1.15 the benders because i can't wait to type it all up... it's a little messy so here are my key takeaways from the episode, formatted for easier reading:

this is another episode which subtly explores the idea that hunters are monsters. similar to 1.02 wendigo, the monster of the week is defined by its skill in hunting, which suggests that hunters are the same cruel killers that their prey are. other episodes up to now that touch on this are 1.06 skin, 1.07 hook man (less directly), and 1.14 nightmare (less directly).

dean is resistant to this hunt, while sam is enthusiastic about pursuing it. i wrote extensively about the importance of sam pursuing this case here, but regarding dean: dean not wanting to follow up on a potential hunt reveals something about his character, and here it seems to be his worries about sam's developing powers.

sam performing acts of service (hunting) in order to ensure his goodness seems rooted in his family values which are based on service to others. importantly, compare 1.22 where azazel also upholds these values while posing as john. azazel worms his way into the family dynamic and corrupts it by enforcing toxic relationship dynamics, both through acts like this and through acts of incest.

the benders are implied to be incestuous at various points in the episode. they're also paralleled with the winchesters as a whole, through them being hunters and through their undersocialized, insulated dynamics. daddy bender further draws a direct parallel by comparing himself and his family to dean during his interrogation and invites the audience to see them as similar. this consequentially invites us to see the winchesters as incestuous, but in a different way from the incest parallels in episodes up to now: this is a grotesque, warped thing, nothing romantic about it. it's peeling back the layers to reveal the ugly truth of their isolated family.

sam attempts to include himself in this hunt by telling dean to be careful. saying this is important to him because he wants to be part of this dynamic and help, even when locked in a cage. being part of his family is important to him.

sam doesn't kill any of the benders. compare 1.14, where he says it's wrong to kill humans. consistency that reveals a difference between sam and dean: sam doesn't want to see humans as the monsters they hunt, while dean assigns monstrosity based on actions and behaviors.

the episode concludes that seeking revenge will not result in healing, continuing the theme from 1.14—still, sam remains motivated to find and kill azazel, while dean seems to agree with kathleen (who is paralleled to him) and has in a lot of ways abandoned this revenge quest (hinted at in 1.16 and confirmed in 1.22). like in 1.11 and 1.12, sam is making the decisions that will result in tragedy, while dean lacks the narrative agency and willpower to challenge sam's choices and avert their ruin, because his devotion to the family is his ultimate flaw that sam denied him of developing out of in 1.11 (and we see now the effects of this, further expanded upon in 1.18, 1.20, and 1.22). the "moral" of the episode runs directly contradictory to sam's choices, and the warning signs are ignored as sam continues his hunt for azazel.

actual notes under the cut because there's a lot of them!