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#I AM FEELING THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT Y'ALL
joshsindigostreak · 6 months
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People of gvf tumblr...how would we feel about an office romance/friends to lovers one shot featuring our favorite jullet-having gremlin with mutual pining all coming to a head at the annual office christmas party? Alexa, play Blue Christmas, by Elvis Presley.
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xcziel · 1 year
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#this year is just the weirdest christmas vibe i've ever had goning on#i have all the stuff for a hallmark-y christmas: it's cold for once on christmas eve! i have a kitchen and a bare tree#but family is overworked and stressed and and i'm sick and worn out from retail so no visiting or sharing baking#so no reason to bake or decorate - even though i fully have the ability! the things are sitting out i am looking at them#but i just want to bury in the bed and read sad or schmoopy fanfic instead#i just can't get in the mood and it's so disappointing bc i remember loving having like#christmas music on and singing along and baking and i never could do much in my apartment bc of it being so small etc#and now i have a full big kitchen counter and could have the tree i always wanted and play christmas cartoons loudly#and it wouldn't bother anyone and there's lights up in the neighborhood i could go see but#i'm just so exhausted and generally discouraged and it's the MOST first world of situations but i may never get#another chance to have a christmas like this and who knows where/how i'll be next year ...#maybe it's really just the not being able to bake - like i don't even really feel like it but i still get sudden impulses#and it's like nope no family to cart tins of cookies to - can't take them or cake to work bc don't want to risk people getting sick#tempted to just force myself into christmas spirit but then the apathy just rolls back over me#i'm so worried about my bil and sister who are stressed bc if medication shortages#and all y'all who are suffering power outages and winter weather onslaught and stressful weekend plan changes#and seasonal overwork and all that entails i'm worried for you also and wishing for everything to be better and go well for you#it just feels like everyone's having an anxious exhsusting holiday season this year and i would like so much better for us#than just 'making it through'#ugh now i'm making myself sappy and teary again#whatever - anybody bothering to read this just know i wish you warmth happiness and joy however they may come to you#hug your loved ones if you can love on your pets eat something for a treat and look at some pretty lights this evening#i maybe am gonna light some candles and put on music and see if my sis wants to call or facetime later#but first my rx are finally filled so i have to go fetch them#happy holidays whoever reads this - mutuals i love you and wish you the best may your evening be merry and bright#or at least warm!
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Y'all, I just HAD to share this, because holy shit.
A little background first:
I run the drive-thru cash register window at a fast food joint. One of the shittiest jobs there is because some of the rudest/stupidest people on the planet come through the drive-thru, and one must have near superhuman patience to deal with it. That said, there are customers who come regularly and are not hard to deal with at all. And then there are some-very few and far between-that restore your faith in humanity a little every time they come.
This is about one such customer.
This guy comes every day at about the same time with his grandson (6 years old when this started, recently turned 7) and gets the exact same thing every time. To the point where now either I see their car or I hear the guy say his name (whichever happens first) and I'm already ringing them up. Because of this, the kid now thinks I have weirdly specific psychic powers, and has said he prefers coming to the place when I'm there. He's also decided I'm the best employee this place has. The granddad talks to me like I'm a human, they're always smiling and happy to see me (which means a lot in this line of work, let me tell you) and even on my shittiest days, they've managed to make me smile. I genuinely look forward to seeing these people every day.
Recently, grandson was hella excited to tell me he had a birthday coming up. Reminded me every day "my birthday's coming!" as most 6yo kids do.
Maybe I was feeling a little holiday spirit or something, but one day after work, I went to the Dollar Tree near the restaurant. I picked out a kid's birthday card and a Christmas card. I wrote a message in the Christmas one about what I just explained above, thanking them for bringing some joy to my days, because y'know what? People need to hear that shit. Especially in today's world. And I wanted them to know how much this meant to me. I wrote a little joke in the birthday card about not forgetting the day. Then I looked in my wallet, saw I had a $10 and a $1, and stuck the $10 in the birthday card. Addressed the birthday card to the kid and the Christmas one to kid and grandpa. I give the cards to them on their normal drive-thru visit. They are of course surprised (kid starts yelling "thank you" even though he hasn't gotten to open it yet) but thankful. Then the line moves on.
Fast forward to today.
I see the car come in but I don't start ringing the order up, because it's WAY early for them. I give my usual greeting, then I hear a woman's voice, so I think it's someone in the same kind of car. But when she asks "is this Hal?" I then realize it's the kid's mother, whom he has told all about me and who has come through with him before.
I say yes, and she tells me she's not here to order anything, just to see me, since kid and granddad are sick. I tell her to come on to the window, she does, and hands me a card and a nicely wrapped gift. I asked her to tell them hi for me, she said she would and then the line moved.
I got off on lunch break and opened card and gift.
I was not prepared. At all.
This is the gift...
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...the card (no writing on the front).....
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.....and the typed note inside the card that actually brought tears to my eyes.
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......I'm still not over this. I will be thinking about how this went on for OVER HALF A FUCKING YEAR and I had no idea.
This is the kind of stuff that makes this shitty job worth it. People like this....We need more of in this world. I'm going to hold onto that note so when I feel like shit or I don't matter, I can look at it and know there's a kid out there who I am so important to that he got his dad to write a whole-ass letter, to some random stranger he only knows through his son, inviting me to their fucking house. I'm tearing up again as I write this, just thinking about it.
If that doesn't say "you matter", idk what does.
(And yes, I will go at some point, because how can I not? I'm not gonna dash this kid's hopes and make myself look like an enormous asshole. This is the RL version of being handed a toy phone and told it's ringing)
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starryknight-tarot · 7 months
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𝓢𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮
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pile 1 -- > pile 2 pile 3 -- > pile 4
masterlist<3 . paid readings
Hello beautiful souls and Happy Halloween🎃✨ Today we will be looking into some signs that someone may be your future spouse! Remember to meditate, take a deep breath, and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. My readings are meant for everyone, no matter what sexuality or identity you are. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. In case anyone is curious, the characters are from the mobile game Tears of Themis.
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Pile 1 Cards: The Emperor, The Hierophant, The Moon, Page of Cups, Four of Swords, Page of Pentacles rx, King of Wands rx, The Lovers Back of the Deck: Five of Pentacles
Holy cow Pile 1, your fs has very strong energy and you will be able to feel this energy very powerfully. It's almost like you will feel a wave of their energy as they pass by or a shiver down your spine, the hair on your arms will stand. Your fs seems to be influencial in a way, almost like they have people wrapped around their finger. Your fs might even be quite wealthy. They may be some sort of performer or entertainer, something that would make them the center of attention quite often. Your fs may be surrounded by people or always seem to have someone around them. You may usually see them at social events or you could even meet them for the first time at a big event. For some of you, you will meet your fs super soon, at a Halloween party or something like that (if you are reading this after Halloween, it may just be a holiday party). A strong sign that they are your future spouse is if they appear like someone who has something to hide. The energy they put out seems really playful and almost innocent, but there is something about them that feels like they aren't being entirely themselves. There is also going to be a romantic attraction to each other that will be felt really strongly and quickly. For some of y'all, this is a love-at first sight-kind of deal, you are gonna think to yourself "Holy shit that person is so hot". They may also get really close to you around the time you first meet, for example putting their arm around you. The eye contact between y'all is really strong, they may have really intense or unique eyes. Although I do feel like some of you are gonna be pretty intimidated by your fs at first either because of all the people around them or the strong energy surrounding them. When you guys see your fs, you may pretty easily see past the happy-go-lucky front they put up, to you, they may seem quite depressed or distressed, and they may even have obvious dark circles under their eyes. It may not be that extreme, you may just notice that they are not as energetic and instead more calm and collected. You may notice this about them in the moments you see them away from people. This is going to be something you will feel spiritually, spirit may show you some signs right before you meet them, I am getting a blue butterfly, a bunny, a crow, or an eagle. (Also a little shout out to my lesbian and bi queens reading, a little confirmation that this is your pile)
Advice Cards:
Be adventurous. It's time to go for it! In harmony with your inner self, you are free to do or be whatever you choose Physically and/or mentally, shape up Make your presence felt It is important to ask for help Practice the pause
Channeled Songs:
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Pile 2 Cards: Eight of Wands rx, Seven of Cups, The Moon, Queen of Swords rx, The Hanged Man rx, Knight of Cups, Seven of Pentacles, Five of Swords Back of the Deck: Five of Cups
Honestly, I am getting a kind of enemies-to-lovers vibe from this pile lol. It might be more of a rivals to lovers but ya get the idea. If you find yourself bickering and teasing each other in a playful way, that's a good sign they are your fs. Your fs seems like a nerd or just very studious. I am getting they may have a very particular or unique way of speaking, like overly polite or a lisp, something like that. Also for a small amount of you, they may be deaf or partially deaf. Your fs also seems to always have their head stuck in the clouds, they may daydream and get distracted easily. Your fs may have ADHD or something like that. They seem to be someone that gets flustered easily and may be very easy to tease. But your fs has a very cute energy, like they seem very nervous and worried, but they can be really passionate about certain things. I think a sign that they are your fs, is when you find yourself missing this person often. If you don't see them for a prolonged amount of time, when you find yourself missing this person, wanting to see them, you may even feel a little empty without seeing them for a long time. I also feel like your fs will actually be the one to approach you and subtly try to send hints that they like you. They may also give the cutest compliments ever. Compliments you have never heard before and you can tell they come from the heart. You may not usually believe the compliments you get but the way they compliment you, there is no doubt they meant it and it came from their heart. Double points if it came from nowhere and they don't usually say compliments to people. A sign they are your fs is if you can't imagine your future without them, I feel like one day you are going to be sitting and thinking about what your future looks like, and no matter what, they are somewhere in your future. I actually feel like it might take a while for you guys to realize that you both like each other. It may even be the kind of situation where everyone around you realizes that you have a crush on each other except you guys, who are oblivious because you can't get out of your head about the connection. A sign they are your fs is when you find yourself staring at them for a little longer than you realize. You may start to see them and they may seem to light up the room a little. Y'alls connection is so cute I can't lol.
Advice Cards:
Look closely at what is going on around you
You are greater than your story
Things might not be they seem
Reflect on one of your blessing
Act on what you know
You are healing at cellular level
Channeled Songs:
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Pile 3 Cards: Five of Swords, The Fool, Ace of Pentacles rx, Four of Swords, Seven of Wands, King of Swords rx, Nine of Wands, Eight of Swords Back of the Deck: Queen of Wands
For my beautiful Pile 3, a sign that they are your fs is if they are really silly and childlike. This childlike energy isn't like irresponsible or unsophisticated, but more like airhead or bimbo/himbo energy. They are enjoyable to be around and can light up a room. Your fs is really connected to their inner child so if they just seem to have a lot of energy. I am getting they may really like video games, especially competitive ones like Smash, Street Fighters, League of Legends, and stuff like that. Your fs has a strong competitive soul and likes a challenge. I was also seeing painted nails, specially black and pink nails. For some of you, you are going to meet your fs during a partially hard moment in your life, you may be going through a tower moment when you first meet. You and your fs may not be talking right now or for some of you, you may not have met yet. Some of y'all may also want to read Pile 1 if you feel called since I am picking up on some similar energy. I am also hearing for some of you, your fs has a strong connection to cars, they may be a car mechanic or race car driver or something like that. I was also hearing that your fs has absolutely amazing fashion, a sign may be that they tend to wear clothes or colors that really compliment your style. Also, I heard that a sign they are your fs is if you often get shocked when touching them, like those moments when you get a little zapped when you walk on a rug or something (I really don't know how to describe this lol) I feel like if you notice that you are getting zapped by someone often, that may be spirits way of showing you they are your fs. They also may either curse like a sailor or have a very dirty mouth, if you notice they make a lot of suggestive jokes, this may be a sign for y'all. There also may be some people around you saying that this person is a red flag. Now now, this doesn't mean we should ignore red flags, however, if you know someone is judging this person unfairly, for some of you, this is a sign they are your fs. There also may be some difficulty in conversing, they may have a speech impediment, mumble a lot when they talk, or just tend to walk around with a lot of anxiety, and they may seem like they can't stand still.
Advice Cards:
Release unhelpful influences and fears
You are greater than your story
Your spirit wings are unfolding. It is time to take flight!
Learn through reversals. Hold the opposing viewpoint for insight
You are much stronger than you think
Release all that keeps you in the past. Forgive and liberate yourself!
Channeled Songs:
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Pile 4 Cards: Judgement rx, Knight of Wands, Nine of Cups, Eight of Wands, Six of Wands, Knight of Cups rx, Three of Cups rx, Queen of Cups Back of the Deck: The Empress
Pile 4, you will know they are fs because they are going to be the most attractive person you have ever seen. With Pile 1, I was getting they are going to find their fs pretty hot, but you my Pile 4? You are going to find your fs absolutely stunning. Like, we have the Empress at the back of the deck and paired with the Nine of Cups, yeah they are beautiful. You have been manifesting these certain traits about a person and using sublimimals, stuff like that to bring your ideal type closer to you and honey, you will succeed. There is also much cup and wands energy so your fs may have a lot of fire and water in their birth chart or I was also picking up that one of you may have heavy water signs in your birth chart and the other has heavy fire signs in their birth charts. For some of you, this person may seem like the complete opposite to you, you may have very different aesthetics and personalities but you know what they say, opposites attract. Your fs comes off with very strong charisma and passion right away. You will notice they have very natural rizz that is so smooth and sexy. For some of y'all, a romantic relationship between the both of you is going to form very early into the relationship. You may never really have a getting to know each other phase of the relationship and really quickly move into the romance. A sign they are your fs is if you feel like you can trust them with anything. You are going to feel a strong sense of safety and loyalty between y'all. Your fs is going to have really balance feminine and masculine energy, but they seem to have especially nutured their feminine side. Also, if you identify as a woman and you are interested in a man, you are going to think yourself "Finally, a man that actually likes women". You are going to think that your person appreciates you and cares deeply for the emotional connection between you two. Your fs is going to check on you often to make sure you are going well physically and mentally. They also have a strong essence of achievement, your fs has achieved a lot in their time and seems very successful.You may also see 444 when you are around them, when you think of them, or before you meet them. I love all of this for your Pile 4.(For thoses of y'all that are Helluva Boss fans, your fs gives me Ozzie vibes which is really everything)
Advice Cards:
Act on what you know
Bring something new into your life
Allow for old memories to come up and be released
The key is in the application. Practice!
Yes, you can . . . Set it in motion!
Make your presence felt
You can manifest your heart's desire
Channeled Songs:
Thanks for tuning in and Happy Halloween for those who celebrate₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.
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fadeintoyou1993 · 5 months
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hi if y'all would like to feel the holiday spirit n support ur local broke as hell autistic brazilian enby dyke, my commissions are open, this is my resource blog (i just posted a new theme & am making a few other things to post as well <3), and this is my ko-fi + paypal.me <3 any amount is appreciated n welcomed <3
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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years
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Pink Scarf - PART 16 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)
Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Requested: kinda
(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)
Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]
TW: Rough SEXXX. Restraints. ANGST. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  
Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 7.2k
A/N: Woo, boy, y'all. Get yourselves ready, cuz the snowball is rollin' and the shit storm is comin'. This part is a little bit of everything--a little sweet, a little salty, a little smutty. It's what y'all deserve!
For the flashback, I had E's 1960 It Feels So Right playing in my head on repeat, so if you are one who likes music to set the mood, then you might give it a listen before/during/after you read that part!
As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋
If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!
I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 
Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 
(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there!)
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Graceland, Christmas 1960
The mansion is finally quiet, or at least you’ve managed to find a quiet part of it in the midst of all the holiday revelry. Elvis loves Christmas, and this is his first one home in two years. And the first one without Gladys.
You had thought that maybe his grief would make the holiday a more solemn affair, but he’s gone in the opposite direction. It’s as though his loss has fueled him to make Christmas as joyful as humanly possible. Even though he’s been away filming for most of the month, he still directed the mansion should be decked out in all the Christmas finery for his return. And so it is.
You wish you were more in the spirit to enjoy it. Usually, you would be—Christmas is one of your favorite times of the year—but this year it sits heavy for you. Heavy because if all had gone well, you’d be sharing it with your newborn baby.
The thought brings you to tears again.
You’ve been hiding your grief as much as possible, sliding on a quaint smile, singing carols, and making cookies with the rest of them, but in these solitary moments, you grieve. You cannot help it. You know it’s futile and silly. How can you grieve someone who barely even existed, someone who was never born? And yet, here you are, alone, sitting in a quiet corner of the house at the piano, a couple of glasses too many of champagne in, being sad over what could have been.
So you begin to play. You know practically every carol and hymn by heart, so you just close your eyes and let the music take you away. It doesn’t erase your grief, but it does help you let it out in some way. You barely notice the tears rolling down your cheeks as you play Away In A Manger and What Child Is This?. You let the dramatic chords of O Holy Night linger in the air at the push of the pedals.
And after a bit of playing, that image of a baby in your arms feels fuzzy and faraway. Or maybe that’s the champagne. Maybe it’s both.
The air shifts. You notice it but play on anyway. You’re not sure how, but you are able to sense him, his presence, his essence, as it pushes in around you. But he remains quiet, and your eyes remain closed as your hands continue to fly over the keys.
Elvis does not interrupt, he only watches. You’re not sure why. You feel as though he barely speaks to you anymore. Yes, he is away and busy and all the usual excuses. But he used to seek you out when he returned. He’d bring you silly little trinkets and sing to you and tell you stupid, off-color jokes.
Now, since that horrible day in March, it’s as though an invisible wall has come between you two, and you don’t understand why. It’s nothing overt—he treats you kindly in the group and doesn’t outwardly ignore you. But something significant has changed, you swear it. Perhaps it is your ultimate failure as a woman that has turned him away. Or maybe with the explosion of his stardom since returning from Germany, he just doesn’t have time for you anymore. Maybe it has nothing to do with you at all; maybe he’s just a different man now.
Your tears of grief now include the loss of him, too. Losing your friend is heartbreaking in its own right, much less coupled with the loss of your child, of your fertility. It doesn’t help that Jack has been gone with Elvis on his travels and feels distant, too. You’d initially thought the space would be good for you two, but instead you just feel achingly lonely.
God, you wish you’d never been pregnant at all, as all it seemed to bring you is heartache.
You stop playing and open your eyes. The room is dim, lit only by one of the many Christmas trees in the house, but when you turn towards the door, Elvis is still there, his blue eyes shining with emotion as he leans in the doorway. The man looks ready to weep, which takes you by surprise, as he’s only shown enthusiasm and excitement since being home. You recognize the look though: it’s grief and melancholy, similar to your own.
Then Elvis looks at you unabashedly for a moment, almost like he is really, truly seeing you for the first time in months. The air sits heavy and silent. You don’t bother wiping the tears off your cheeks, though your heart races a bit. Must be the champagne, you think. It certainly isn’t the way he is looking at you now, how you are being laid bare and vulnerable by his intense gaze.
Something builds between you, though you are not exactly sure what, and he suddenly straightens and crosses the room to you. He towers over you now at the end of the piano bench and an overwhelming need to be near him comes over you. It’s as though you are both magnetized to each other, so when he holds out his hand, you cannot help but take it. The warmth of his hand surrounds yours as he pulls you up and into his waiting arms.
You fold into him, your arms tucked into your chest and your head buried into his collarbone as he wraps his arms around you. His spicy, distinct scent surrounds you and his warmth engulfs you and you cannot help the sob that escapes you at the comfort of it.
Elvis holds you close and lets you cry, and you feel his chest shudder and his breath hitch as though he is as emotional as you are. His mother, you think; he’s been hiding his grief as you’ve been hiding yours. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your temple as they run down his face and onto yours, and this prompts you to unfold your arms and wrap them around his torso, comforting him as he is comforting you.
He sways you, moving to the unheard music you assume is always playing in his mind, and pressed against him like this, you can feel the quick and steady beat of his heart pounding in his chest. You don’t remember the last time you were this close to him. He feels bigger, broader than the boy who went to Germany, but is no less Elvis. His sensitive spirit is the same after all.
You are not sure how long you sway there, crying in each other’s arms at your respective losses. But you know it’s more than just that. You know because as your tears start to ebb and you move back the slightest bit, he grabs your hand and pulls you in close, unwilling to part with you. He dances with you now, slowly pulling you back into his silent rhythm.
And you let him. You let his hand clasp yours and he draws it over his heart, holding it there. His heart beats quicker, you think. It’s too intimate now, the way his warm, damp cheek presses to yours, the saltiness of your tears mixing and binding your grief together. The air shifts again, still heavy and thick, but with a million unsaid words hanging there in the silence.
Your heart skips, flutters, and your breath catches. You’re not exactly sure what is happening. But you still let him hold you and sway you in slow circles. His hand splays hot on your lower back, burning through you, setting your body aflame in a way you don’t understand.
But you are a few glasses in and on a roller coaster of emotion and right now the feel of his strong, lean body pressed against yours makes you feel alive in a certain kind of way. You’ve been lonely and you’ve missed him more than you thought. It’s almost as if this is a silent plea for forgiveness from him.
Yes, that’s all it is.
You feel hyperaware of him and his closeness, so when Elvis nuzzles his head against the side of yours, you feel breathless. Your mouth pops open with a puff which, considering his proximity, he must feel, but he does not stop, and you cannot help the way you return the gesture in kind.
His breath is warm in your ear, and you can feel the softness of his lips brush against it, sending a decidedly inappropriate cascade of shivers dancing through you.
Oh, god.
Involuntarily, your hand contracts in his, your nails scraping lightly at his button-down shirt. Elvis presses your palm down onto his heart in response. You feel out of control, completely at his mercy, knowing this is too much, too close, too intimate but you can’t seem to stop, intoxicated by his strength, his affection, his essence.
Elvis’ still-damp cheek lingers against your own, and he presses his forehead gently to yours with a soft sigh. Then he pulls back slowly, just far enough to look at you, and you feel knocked over by his pure beauty. Honestly, you feel absolutely heady as you threaten to tip over and lose yourself in those churning, deep blue eyes of his. And, boy, they are churning, with things you can’t quite grasp. You watch as they search your face, his impossibly long lashes punctuating their every slow move. Holding your breath, your heart speeds up ever faster, and you wonder what it is he seeks in you.  
Your sadness and grief feel far away now as he plunders your soul, his gaze so alluring that you cannot even begin to piece through what is going on in any sort of logical way. You don’t understand any of it. All you know is you want more, and that feels forbidden in every way.
As if reading your thoughts somehow, his lips part. His eyes flutter down your face and land at your mouth. A shock runs through you as you think Elvis just might kiss you, and that terrifies you, not just because it would be crossing a line but because in this moment you want him to.
You want to feel his lips soft and sweet against you, then crushing into you. You want his body passionately pressed into yours as you cling to each other in the sparkling light of the Christmas tree. You want his large hands roaming your curves. You want to feel the strands of his dark hair between your fingers as you tug him closer. You want him to make you forget everything but the taste and feel of him.
These wants flash through you in an instant, shocking your system because he is so close that you almost can taste him and panic shoots through you. Never have you let your thoughts truly drift to that place with him, and opening that door feels very dangerous. Suddenly, with a wave of absolute certainty, an intuition you cannot explain at all exclaims that Elvis wants you more than anything in this world.
And that makes you gasp and pull away.
That cannot possibly be true. Nothing about the way he’s acted this past year supports that but something inside you screams that it’s real. It makes no sense. None of it makes any sense.
Elvis blinks and shakes his head as though snapping himself out of a daze. His hand falls from your waist, the spell broken. The soulful look in his eyes flashes with what almost seems like hurt, then apology, then regret. Without a single word, he turns and leaves.
Your heart plummets for reasons you don’t understand.
You must be confused. You are drunk. You are emotional. You couldn’t possibly have read the situation correctly. And yet the feelings awakened in your body surprise you and the look in his eyes haunts you as you sink back onto the piano bench, left alone in the silence.
*
Your eyes pop open at the memory. You had been very drunk that night and hadn’t remembered that moment until this very minute, yet another hidden facet of your long and suddenly complex relationship with your friend making itself known. Elvis had continued to keep his distance from you after that Christmas and had never even alluded to such an intimate moment happening, so you’d had no reason to think anything strange had happened at all. In hindsight, it seems awfully significant and feels like yet another thing he’s keeping from you.
Running it through your mind again, you swear he’d almost kissed you that night or at least had wanted to, which is shocking to you because 1960 was a long time ago. Still more shocking was that certainty you’d had about him wanting you more than anything, which couldn’t possibly be true.
Could it?
You shake off the thought. Emotions were high for both of you that night, and he obviously had thought better of it, but still…that prickle at the back of your mind keeps gnawing at you, those pieces of the puzzle attempting to slot into place. Maybe if you weren’t so damn tired and emotionally spent, you’d be able to figure out what your mind is trying to tell you. Maybe if your body wasn’t still aching with the memory of losing your child and almost dying, you’d be able to think clearly.
And your conversation with Sandy also sits uneasily in your mind. Running away ain’t gonna solve anything, her voice echoes in your head. You wish you had the strength she hoped you did, the strength to tell Jack to fuck off, to tell Elvis how you really feel, but it all feels so overwhelmingly insurmountable that you can barely even entertain the thought.
Heart pounding and wheels turning, you know sleep is out of the question and sit up in the bed. You get up and busy yourself instead. You feel as though you are racing the clock. It doesn’t take long to pack your bag, and while you are not frantic, you are determined. Mentally, you are ready to go. You have to go.
Unfortunately, things are not working out as you hoped they would. When the concierge calls you back with your fight arrangements, he informs you that there are no flights out of Vegas until 7:30am tomorrow morning. It being a Sunday night and with such short notice, there were no seats headed back east to be had. You thank him and reply that of course the morning flight would be acceptable before you set the receiver back on the hook and let out an aggravated scream.
You need out now. You are half inclined to rent a car and drive back to Memphis, but you know that is a terrible idea for a variety of reasons, namely being that you had no idea how to get to Memphis from here and being alone on the road for so long with no preparation sounded dangerous.
Fine, you think, I can make it through the night. I should tell Elvis in person anyway.
The thought makes your stomach churn because you know he will not be happy with this development. You’d rather not see the look on his face, but you also know it is the right thing to do. You just need to steel yourself to see your decision through and not be swayed by his charms.
Easier said than done.
And it doesn’t help that you are running on fumes and adrenaline. With everything that happened last night, the only sleep you’ve had was on the roof and that was short-lived and filled with nightmares. You took a shower after getting back to the room, but your mind is spinning too much to sleep, plagued with returning memories and creeping doubt.
You decide to get ready for the show as originally planned. It’ll be easier to gain access to Elvis between shows to talk if you do so. You dress accordingly, carefully putting on your makeup and doing your hair up nicely to give yourself as much confidence as possible. After repacking your toiletries, you grab your clutch and see the silky pink scarf folded neatly inside.
It takes only a moment for you to decide to put it around your neck. It’ll guarantee that Elvis will make time to see you, and you try not to shiver at the fact that the last time you wore this scarf, it led to a decidedly different outcome than it will tonight. The thought sends both warmth to your core and dread into your heart. You don’t want to leave him.
But I have to.
You shift your thoughts instead to Red, wondering and fearing whatever he might have planned. You don’t know if he is planning to sit on the information he gleaned from your leaving Elvis’ suite this morning, or if he is looking to cause mayhem immediately, though considering Jack has not burst in angrily, you don’t think anything has been said yet.
Either way, you have to warn E, and you have to get the hell out before the shit hits the fan.
The afternoon quickly turns to evening, and you pump yourself up on the way downstairs, despite the nausea in your stomach, the exhaustion in your body, and the ache in your heart. Now that you are somewhat a part of the show, it is easy to get backstage, and while you’re not sure how you are going to be able to wait the few hours the show will take, you continually remind yourself that this is what you must do. You have no choice.
But I do, I do have a choice, a pesky little voice chimes in. Stay.
Shut up.
By the time Elvis makes his way backstage, you feel like you’re about to jump out of your skin. The way his bright eyes light up when he sees you and then how they flash heat when he sees the pink silk knotted around your neck fills you with both desire and anxiety. Being near him weakens your resolve because his charismatic energy rolls over you even from this distance, and he just looks so damn good in that white suit of his, but you knew that this would test you. You force what you hope is a normal a smile, but you see a look of confusion flash over his pretty face before his usual pre-show nerves take over. But he does not come over to you, for which you are grateful.
The show begins with the usual fanfare, and you are surprised that even with everything going on in your head (or perhaps because of it), you still get swept up in the music, still sing the parts quietly that you have so diligently practiced. Regret hits you from another angle, one you did not anticipate. In leaving Vegas, you’ll also be leaving this—the show, the music.
Doubt creeps in in earnest throughout the show, putting your nerves even more on edge. You don’t really want to leave this opportunity, but the problem is you don’t think you have the fortitude to stay and to be able to resist Elvis.
The curtain closes and Elvis is surrounded, soaked with sweat, riding that post-show high that makes him nearly glow from the inside out. He wipes his face with the towel someone has draped over him, and you watch as he pulls Jerry aside with a glint in his eye, presumably to arrange your meet with him. But Jerry leans back and whispers something into E’s ear and that handsome face clouds with dark emotion. Then Elvis finds you past the crowd and his eyes lock on and you know. You know he knows by the hurt and angry look in his piercing blue eyes.
Sandy.
Goddammit.
As Elvis stalks over to you, pushing through musicians and instruments, it’s evident that Sandy has betrayed you. She told Jerry. And whether she meant for him to tell Elvis, you do not know, but your heart speeds up as Elvis crosses the backstage area in long, quick strides, with a wounded and feral look in his eyes that frightens you. It is not at all the same as the jealousy from the night prior; no, this is damage done on another scale.
You cannot help but back up as he approaches, nearly falling back over your chair, but he is on you in an instant, grabbing your arm firmly with one hand and your waist with the other, seemingly uncaring of the confused looks of his entourage that has been left behind so uncharacteristically. Luckily, Jack is nowhere to been seen, but you catch Red’s smirk before Elvis manhandles you into the hallway.
He doesn’t speak, not yet, though you see his brewing temper play over his face. Your heart drops because it is so obvious how you’ve truly hurt him, and he practically carries you back to the dressing room so quickly that you barely have time to register what that means. Once inside, he releases you and you tumble forward before he slams the door with too much force and flicks the lock.
As you straighten, you attempt to brace yourself for what you think you know is coming. Your nerves are on pins and needles, and you can’t help the lightheaded feeling that comes over you as you watch him fume. His chest heaves with both the exertion from his performance and his building fury, which makes for a dangerous combination.
You realize too late that perhaps you didn’t think this through.
“Is it true?” Elvis growls, rounding on you. “Are you trying to leave?” The pain is palpable in his stormy eyes and is layered with indignation.
The words catch in your throat. You finally force yourself to nod, attempting to find your voice in the meantime.
“What the fuck, y/n? What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” his voice raises, as he paces the room like a caged animal. His eyes are icy now, glaring at you in such a way that you feel it to your toes. His white suit clings to him with the moisture of his sweat, which gleams off his tan skin, distracting you.
You finally find your voice. “I’m leaving, Elvis. For my sake and for yours,” you breathe out. Your heart threatens to shatter at the words.
“The fuck you are,” he flips back at you.
“Excuse me?” you huff.
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, honey,” he points at you sternly.
“That’s not up to you,” you sputter, blinking rapidly.
“The hell it ain’t,” he glares.
Elvis’ eyes flash and he advances towards you. Your heart thunders in your ears and you counter backwards until he has your back against the wall. He grabs your chin with his hand, his rings cutting into you.
“I thought I fucked some sense into you last night, but it seems I fucked it out of you instead,” he purrs dark and low, but it is laced with threat.
You hold back a groan at his words. The sound of his voice and the look on his gorgeous face as he rakes his eyes over you sends both dread and heat through you all at once. You should have known he’d put up a fight. This is why you’d wanted to leave right away. Resisting him feels insane and futile.  
“E, Red knows. He caught me coming out of your room this morning, and I just know he’s gonna make trouble,” you ramble out, trying to skirt around him. He boxes you in with his arms.
“Fuck Red. I’ll take care of him,” Elvis spits, eyes flashing but barely giving it a second thought because his sole focus is you. Then you see him eyeing his scarf around your neck. Wordlessly, slowly, he unties it, his calloused fingers brushing the skin of your neck and making you shiver. “Now tell me why you’re really leavin’, honey,” he commands, but the lilt in pitch betrays his sensitivity to those who know him well enough. And you do.
Oh, god, the way his smokey eyes bore into you, intoxicate you, has you frozen and your mouth dry. All the words you prepared to say are gone in an instant. You can’t tell him everything (you can’t), but his hurt and his need to dominate you because of it drives his actions, and you know he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.
“Hmm,” he shakes his head, a darkness overcoming him. “Guess I gotta find another way to get it out of you. Give me your hands,” he orders. You are caught in his gaze and feel powerless to deny him. Begrudgingly, you obey, holding out your hands.
You watch as he ties one end of the silky scarf to your left wrist. It’s tight, but not uncomfortable. Your brow furrows in confusion as he pulls your arms up, and it is then that you notice the bar, which must be used as a clothing rack, attached to the wall above your head.
Your eyes widen and your heart thunders in your chest. “Elvis, what’re you doing?” you squeak out as he wraps the scarf over the bar and attaches it tightly to your other wrist. Your arms are loose and your feet remain planted on the floor, as the bar is not that high up, but you are effectively trapped.
“Well, honey, you keep tryin’ to run away from me and I need answers,” he glowers, amusement playing under his anger.
“Goddammit, this isn’t funny, let me go!” you say shrilly, yanking your arms but only succeeding in making the scarf tighter around your wrists.
“No, you’re right, it ain’t funny at all. Were you just gonna steal away in the dead of night without talkin’ to me?” he asks, the hurt back in his voice.
“No, I…no, that’s not what I wanted…” But it is almost what you did, and he seems to know it.
His eyes flash with realization at your unspoken words, then narrow as he moves closer. You look away, shamed. He grabs your chin again, his rings cold against your skin, and forces you to look at him.
“You are all I’ve been able to concentrate on, ya know that? You’re all I fuckin’ think about. I want you. I want you to be with me. Be with me.” He says it like a pleading promise and a stark demand all at once.
Oh, Jesus, it makes you ache for him in every way. You can feel your resolve crumbling around you, all your reasons for leaving melting into a puddle at your feet.
“We can’t Elvis. We can’t keep doing this. I’m losing my mind,” you say but Elvis has his head buried in your neck now, his lips and tongue dragging across your skin and setting your entire body aflame. Resisting him is like resisting gravity—an impossible feat.
“Why would you do this to me, lil’ mama?” he whispers in your ear, his hand brushing away your hair so his breath tickles against you. The sensation immediately has your body at attention, like a switch has been flipped. Your nerves tingle, your nipples stand at attention with just the temptation of that raspy baritone.
Despite yourself, despite the angel on your shoulder screaming at you, once again, that this is a bad idea, your mouth pops open with a sigh. His other hand cups your cheek as his lips travel over your face, so close that those long, dark lashes brush against you in their wake. This sends another thrill of sensation through you.
It’s agonizing that you can’t touch him, which you know is exactly the point.
Elvis presses you against the wall, and his thumb is dragging slowly over your bottom lip. It takes everything you have to not disintegrate right there and then. The way he makes you feel—it’s like you have no sense of reality when around him like this. He is your drug of choice. And you keep coming back to him again and again.
“Tell me why you don’t want me,” he asks in a boyish whisper, his bedroom eyes deadly serious, filled with anger and hurt and need and lust. All for you. Only Elvis could look so entirely innocent and completely sinful all at once.
His words cut you, as you think he intended. You wish you could make him understand, but your breathing is fast, too fast. You are dizzy from the scent of him, all sweat and musk. He’s dripping with it. Your eyes roll back.
“Dammit, E, of course I want you,” you breathe, “but when we get caught, which we are seconds away from, I’m the one who’s life blows up. I’m the one who’ll have to face the consequences. It all comes back on me, and…I don’t have anything without Jack.” You can’t let yourself forget it.
The way Elvis looks at you now is fierce. He grabs both of your cheeks roughly, his hands like fire against them.
“Baby, you have me, you’ll always have me. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I’ll take care of you, no matter what happens.”
The sentiment hits you sideways, flooring you. He’s staring at you so intensely you feel completely gone, weak. There is nothing else but him.
“Let me take care of you,” he breathes seductively, nuzzling your nose. “Let me be your everything.”
Oh, sweet lord…
“Elvis…” His name escapes you like a hushed prayer. You are defenseless against him, your heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, stealing your breath away completely.
The temptation of what he is saying is so strong that you want to give in to him immediately. It’s almost everything you want to hear, which is the problem. You think he’ll say anything to get what he wants. You love him, but you know he’s a master at manipulation—it’s how he’s so damn good at his craft. It’s how he so effectively hypnotizes the masses. You think half the time he doesn’t even realize what’s he’s doing, but knowing him as you do, you know he is too shrewd for ignorance.
But part of you refuses to believe him, what he’s saying, even now. Part of you is still reeling from the pain and the fear of your recently uncovered memories. And the fact is, he is still hiding things from you, and you are still married to Jack.
Elvis bows his head, his soft lips now mere millimeters from yours, his hot breath mingling with the heat of your own. But he does not close the gap. He’s waiting, waiting for you to decide. He’s impatient, nearly shaking with anticipation.
You came here to end it, you did (didn’t I?), but he’s like the sun, pulling you into his orbit. Desperate, you find your voice, doing your best to be strong.
“Elvis, I am still married. You know as well as I do how complicated it is with Jack, and he’s not going to take kindly to this when he finds out. And he will. We both know he will. He’s your friend. You can’t have it both ways, and neither can I. But I can’t be near you without wanting you, so something’s gotta give. That’s why I have to go. That, and all the secrets, the lies…It’s tearing me apart inside,” you plead with him. And I know you’re keeping something from me, but those words don’t make it out of your mouth.
His brow furrows and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head. Then something significant shifts, that dark look clouding his eyes once more.
“Jack ain’t shit. Fuck him. And, baby, I’ll tear your marriage to shreds and throw it in the trash, just like that,” Elvis snarls, snapping his fingers in your face, his endless eyes burning into yours. His vehemence has you shaking, your eyes going big. “I don’t care what I have to do or who I have to pay off. I thought I told you, honey—I always get what I want, and I think I’ve made it quite fuckin’ clear who I want.”
Holy shit.
A shocked beat, your breath held in a pause before it quickens again. Elvis is choosing you over Jack. Elvis wants you to end your marriage for him (or more accurately, wants to end it for you). This means that he is much more serious about this, about you, than you thought. Your heart plummets into your stomach and warmth blossoms over your body. You are both elated and terrified by what he is asking of you. All words escape you.
“Still need a little more convincing, huh?” His lip curls into a smirk, sending a coil of desire into your belly. Pushing you up against the wall, he grinds his hips into you, your arms straining against their bonds. You know now that this is his way, his way of proving to you the truth of his words. A whimper escapes your lips, causing him to grin even more. He has you right where he wants you, which is infuriating and exhilarating.
Elvis gets close, his full lips so tantalizingly near that you can almost taste their pillowy sweetness, but he still does not kiss you, only tempts you as his breath blends with yours. As much as you want to, you do not submit, you do not close the gap, your stubbornness and lingering doubt dampening your near-consuming desire.
All your churning emotions of the past few days keep you silent. Confusion, fear, anger, shock, love—all of it only fuels your passion for him, a love so consuming it eats you alive. But you also don’t want him to have the satisfaction of you giving into him. He’s right: he does usually get what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you have to make it easy on him.
Elvis watches your reaction carefully as he yanks your dress up over your hips. Then he groans, a deep, carnal sound as he grinds into you once more, his arousal evident and the metal of his ornate belt biting against your pelvis. You bite your lip to keep from making the noises that threaten to escape you, but your breathing is starting to become even more labored. There is an element of calculated control in his flaming eyes, combined with power and need. He doesn’t let you look away.
Elvis grabs the back of one of your thighs, pulling it up to his hip, running his hand over your bare flesh from your knee up to your panties, his fingers dancing just under the elastic. You hold back the hiss that wants to escape you. God, you want to touch him, to claw at his bare chest, but the scarf holds you fast and you grip its strong silk for dear life.
When he lets go just long enough to pull the zipper of his fly, pulling out his cock, your eyes widen, then fall closed. You feel as he tugs your underwear to the side, his fingers swiping through your folds. You bite your lip at the feel of his fingers prodding at you so roughly. But with your churning emotions desperately trying to keep your desire at bay, you are not nearly wet enough to take him yet.
“Look at me,” he demands, and you do. You are powerless not to.
Reaching his hand up, he looks you right in the eye as he spits in it, then reaches down to cover his cock, lubricating it fully. You gulp. A shiver of anticipation races down your spine. Taking a long moment to gather more saliva, he spits in his hand again before snaking it between your thighs to smear your pussy with it, watching your reaction carefully. You can’t help but moan at the sensation of the warm slick.
True to his word, nothing stops him from taking what he wants as he brusquely lifts your legs around his waist and enters you with a quick, hard thrust and a deep grunt.
You gasp loudly at how Elvis fills you so completely, both with surprise and with pain of the pleasurable sort. You are so tight, too tight, and while your arousal pools, it has not yet coated your walls, making his saliva the only lubrication to ease the friction. You claw at the silk scarf, trying to push back against the wall in retreat, but he chases you, pausing for only a moment as you attempt to adjust to him. He starts rocking into you, but his thrusts are not gentle—they are powerful, claiming. You continue to hold back the noises that want to escape your mouth, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing your pleasure.
“Why ya gotta be so fuckin’ stubborn, baby? You really makin’ me take you this damn hard to remind ya just who ya belong to?” he growls seductively into your ear as he drives into you harder. Your head falls back onto the wall and your eyes flutter. This shouldn’t be so satisfying, but you can’t deny how it makes you feel, how he makes you feel. Your arousal pools around him at his words, at his audacity, and it gives you away as he slides more easily in and out of you. Then that damn lip of his dares to curl up again into a knowing smile.
His baritone rumbles in your ear as he fucks you more vigorously, each thrust punctuating his words, as if driving them deeply into your body and mind. “I’m not lettin’ you outta my sight after this little stunt of yours, honey, not for one damn minute. In fact,” he chuckles darkly, “you’re going on stage with me for the rest of my shows, starting tonight. Your debut performance.”
You can’t hold back your choked gasp at that.
“You’re all mine now.” Elvis’ hand comes up and wraps around your throat, just tight enough to let you know he means it. “Now, be a good girl and say it for me.”
Your brain fights against him—possession is not love! Sex is not love! it screams at you—and you don’t want to give him this, but you know the truth of it: you are his. You’ve been his for a while now. And you relish in it. You want so desperately for it to be more than that, but you are too weary of denying yourself of the obvious.
“I’m…y-yours,” you gasp out. He fucks it out of you.
The corner of his mouth briefly lifts in satisfaction before returning to his relentless railing of you and his ongoing, heated diatribe: “You’ll stay in my room, my bed, and we’ll fuck whenever we damn please, honey. I don’t care who fuckin’ knows. Let Jack try and come for you…see what happens,” he threatens, grunting as his thrusts become more erratic.
You don’t even recognize the moan that comes from you at that. The fact that he will take Jack head on for you sends an inexplicable rush through your system. The coil in your belly tightens rapidly now, but Elvis is too far ahead of you, too consumed with his lust and his need to claim you as his own.
“Tell me you’ll stay,” he says in your ear. It comes out more needy, breathless, pleading, than you think he intended, which tugs at your heart, telling you what you need to know, at least for now.
You have no choice, not anymore. Neither your heart nor Elvis’ will allow it.
“I’ll stay,” you whisper, finally conceding.
“There’s my girl,” he groans, then plunges in so deep and fast that the wind is knocked out of you. You both cry out as he pulses again and again, filling and coating you with his need, his teeth digging into your shoulder as he climaxes.
You both gasp for breath, him from his release, you from the shock of his words as they settle within you. After a moment of recovery, he unceremoniously pulls out of you, sets you gently back on the ground, and unties your hands. Your legs feel wobbly and your hands tingle with a burning sensation, rubbed a little raw at the wrists. Elvis kisses each wrist softly, making that unrelieved coil in your belly cinch even tighter as he wraps the scarf around your neck. You wince at the pins and needles in your arms as you shake them to regain circulation.
You wait to see what he has in store for you next, but he just looks a little jaded, uncharacteristically making no effort to alleviate your need. He turns and walks all the way back into the bathroom, and you follow silently.
You look at him questioningly in the mirror as he cleans off, that coil in your belly poised and ready, but unfed. He’s never left you unsatisfied before. But you also don’t want to push him right now. Things still feel too tenuous.
He finally acknowledges you in the mirror, looking over your mussed and flustered state and immediately gleaning the reason for your hovering. “Honey…I’ll deal with you later,” Elvis tuts in a reprimanding tone, his left eyebrow raising, his blues still chilly towards you.
He’s being petty, but you suppose you deserve that to an extent. You resist the urge to pout, instead choosing to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing against the sweaty heat of his back. You want him to forgive you, want to be in his warmth, want him to love you as you love him. But for now, you’ll accept the relief of not having to leave him.
Let me take care of you…Let me be your everything.
The memory of his words sends warmth radiating through your chest, even if he just said it to get you to stay. Even if he didn’t really mean it.
“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. And you are.
Elvis doesn’t move for a moment, just letting you cling to him. Then he turns, bringing you close, and he finally kisses you, his pliant lips pressing hard and fierce and wanting against yours.
“Don’t ever try to leave me like that again, baby,” he says, pulling away, looking deeply into your eyes. He is trying, you think, to be as possessive and demanding as before, but the edge of his anger has been tempered, quelled, and has turned into something more imploring. Then, with that quintessentially Elvispuppy-dog look on his face, he blinks slowly and quietly adds, “I need you,” as though just realizing it himself.
And, with that, you realize for the first time that despite all your doubts, despite what he is hiding from you, despite every obstacle that wants to pile against you, the shitstorm that is coming is still going to hit hard, but it will hit you two together.
*
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itsbrittanybiitch · 6 months
Text
Incorrect AATC Quotes 24
Happy Holiday season! Here's an early gift for y'all just in case I don't post again before it's all over haha.
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Alvin: Do I sound smart, or am I smart? Simon: You sound unbearable, to be perfectly honest.
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Eleanor, teaching Brittany to drive: Okay, you're driving and Alvin and Jeanette walk into the road. Quick, what do you hit? Brittany: Oh, definitely Alvin. I could never hurt Jeanette. Eleanor, massaging her temples: The brakes. You hit the brakes.
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Dave: You three, explain right now! Simon: It was Alvin. Theodore: It was Alvin. Alvin: Alvin: …fuck.
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Brittany: We need to open this locked door. Jeanette, give me your credit card. Jeanette: Here. Brittany, pocketing it: Thanks. Eleanor, break down the door.
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Theodore: *walking around disappointed after visiting an aquarium* Eleanor: Theodore, what did you think a tiger shark was?
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Simon: What's gone wrong, Alvin? Alvin: Hey! That’s one hell of a thing to say to a person. Just because I’m calling doesn’t mean there’s a crisis. Simon: That’s technically true, I suppose. Why are you calling? Alvin: Well... There’s a crisis.
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Theodore: Eleanor is the bravest person I know. She can go into the Spirit Halloween without crying!
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Alvin: Hey, Britt, do you have feelings for me? Brittany: Yeah, anger.
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Theodore: Hey, Simon? Can I get some dating advice? Simon: Just because I'm with Jeanette doesn't mean I know how I did it.
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Last one!
*The gang's thoughts on stabbing* Jeanette and Theodore: Would never stab anyone. Eleanor: Would stab someone in retaliation. Brittany: Yells "I won't hesitate, bitch!" first. Alvin: Would stab without warning. Simon: Would stab as a warning.
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How do you do solarpunk aesthetic week when you live in a tiny apartment with no outside access? I always want to participate but I feel like most stuff y'all post is geared towards people who live in houses...
Hey, thanks for sending in the ask!
We put our heads together and came up with a few ideas for you!
Grow plants indoors! You could grow a few houseplants to green up your space, or even try growing some vegetables and/or herbs indoors! I've heard people have lots of luck with basil indoors, and my freshman year of college I grew cherry tomatoes and peppers in my dorm room! Maybe check out information on semi or full-hydroponic setups? You can also propagate a lot with a few cuttings and a glass of water! If you have a balcony with your apartment, that could also be a good place to grow flowers or vegetables--depending on the season and temps where you are, it might be a bit cold to start things out there right now, but you could always start planning!
Crafting could be another fun idea! You could try your hand at mending clothes, or making your own clothes from scratch! I (Ani) am learning crochet, if you wanna join me in spirit and pick it up as well! Kala/Fennopunk (who lives in a small apartment 👀) also knows a lot about crocheting, its a pretty nice winter craft! You could also try embroidery, so you can add unique designs onto your clothes! Other options are things like knitting, sewing, leatherwork, jewelrymaking, soap making, and maybe even woodworking or soldering if that interests you!
Learning how to repair tech would be cool! Honestly, learning how to repair anything sounds super cool and is pretty solarpunk! This can also kinda go hand-in-hand with learning how to build your own things (one of my friends knows how to repair and build computers, for example). Try finding some information on something you're interested in and going wild!
Decorate your home in a way that feels Solarpunk to you! Even if you don't get it all done during the event week, I think its definitely a nice way to bring joy! Look into ways your apartment can change with the seasons, ways to keep yourself cozy and warm in winter but cool and bright during the summer! If you get started, feel free to send in progress images, we'd love to see!
Guerrilla gardening! Winter's a great time to scatter wildflower seeds (at least here in the states for me) as it gives the seeds time to acclimate to weather conditions! if you want flowers in spring, you plant seeds in winter! Maybe find a place you wanna target if you go out, think about what seeds you want to plant, and start planning? Or if you have seeds on hand already, you know what to do! Honestly, I also kinda view picking up litter as hand-in-hand with guerrilla gardening, if you've got the vibes for that at all.
Build community with your neighbors! Even if its just saying hi, or talking about what you're up to!
Maybe guerrilla art as well? Moss graffiti, spray painting, or even plastering a couple of stickers up counts as solarpunk! I will give a general warning that doing stuff seen as illegal probably shouldn't be posted online, but hey, you can participate in the week without telling us what you do!
Speaking of art! Maybe you could make art at home! Whether you use chalk, or pastels, or paint, or pencils, or if you've got a tablet you can use--find some inspiration and draw! I've seen lots of people draw solarpunk fashion ideas, solarpunk building concepts, or just general vibe art!
You could also take a crack at writing! You could write a short story, or get started on a longer project idea! You could even just write worldbuilding-type stuff, like examples of event listings or building histories you imagine a solarpunk society would have, or ideas for holidays and festivals!
Learning an instrument feels pretty solarpunk to me! I (Ani) say this as someone who has 2 guitars around and has forgotten 80% of the stuff she learned in her lessons back in high school. Just in general, picking up an old hobby you miss, or starting a new one works great for this event honestly!
You can also check out the Apartment Solarpunk tag on the Practical Solarpunk blog, it may have more ideas for you!
We hope this helps! Either way, I hope you enjoy the event week!
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tis I.
your Annoying Tumblr Mutual, here once more to ask thee questions !!
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
ೃ⁀➷ fav holiday?
ೃ⁀➷ comfort film?
ೃ⁀➷ how many languages can you speak?
ೃ⁀➷ celebrity crush? (tehe)
ೃ⁀➷ if you could hang out with someone (dead or alive) for 24 whole hours, who would it be? :3
ೃ⁀➷ song that never fails to make you feel *something*? (and what is that feeling?)
as always, feel free to ignore this, I won't take it personally!! after all, I am The Annoying Tumblr Mutual :)
okayyy baii, ty for being my mutual, I appreciate youuu <3.ೃ࿐
Eid!
Spirited Away
I can speak English (my first language), Arabic (my second language), and a bit of Spanish.
TOM HOLLAND-
I would hang out with all of my mutuals. Y'all seem so fun <3
What Makes You Beautiful makes me feel so loved every time i swear-
LOVE YOU MALIHA
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squealing-santa · 7 months
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Event FAQ
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Regarding TFB
What does TFB stand for?
TFB originally stood for Tickle Fic Bloggers, as a tag some tickle Tumblr vets used in the early community days. It evolved to Tickle Fandom Bloggers as the community grew to include more than just fanfic writers.
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Regarding Giftee Assignment
Do we get to choose which prompts/pairings we write for after we choose fandoms or is it just assigned randomly?
As the event host, I have a super fun albeit chaotic puzzle to unravel between all of the participants requests and what they feel comfortable creating for. Once I have received all of the Fandom Registrations (Due Nov 12th by midnight PST), I will go through the lists and begin pairing folks off by fandom. This isn't to say your Giftee is also making your gift, though that does occasionally happen. In an effort to create as much diversity within the pieces being made, I tend to assign from most to least niche, but there will always be plenty of more popular fandoms produced naturally.
Once you've recieve your assignment, you then have the freedom to choose within the options provided by your Giftee. For example:
Fandom One ~ Character A x B* ~ Character B* x C ~ Character A & D Fandom Two ~ Character A x B ~ Character B x C ~ Character A* x B x C Prompts ~ Scenario 1 ~ Scenario 2 ~ Scenario 3
As the Magic Maker, you then just have to choose the pairing and prompt that resonates with you the most! Such as:
Fandom 2, Pairing 3, Scenario 1
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Regarding Posting Timeframe
Once the assignments are given out, are they do by December 31 or on December 31? Or just any time during that month?
Posting for the event is during the entire month of December to keep with the holiday spirit. That said, you’re more than welcome to queue it up for Dec 1st at 12:01am your time to be one of the first ones if you finish early 😁 Also, try your very hardest to have your art or fic completed and posted by December 31st as this is a holiday exchange!
We totally get that this is a super busy time of the year. If you have any problems, including needing an extension or needing to drop from the event, please please please reach out. I am here to help!
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Regarding "The Featherflake" Warm-Up
What's this whole Featherflake thing about? Are we posting and tagging it?
The Featheflake is just the lil symbol in the banner and pfp for this event. Last year I had a buncha folks chomping at the bit to get started before I had the opportunity yo divvy up assignments, so thought it might be a fun idea to give y'all a warm-up activity for anyone who wanted to participate 😊
The non-flowery version of the prompt is to come up with your own interpretation of what a tickly-snowflake (hence Featherflake) would be!
For artists, you guys can design your own versions of a Featherflake.
For writers, that can either be describing it, how it differs from snow, or the lore/story behind it.
...or you can just show what happens when your fave character's interact with the Featherflakes 😏
That being said, 100% optional! Should you opt in to participate, you are absolutely encouraged to post your warm-ups on Tumblr. Please be sure to @ the event blog and use the tag [#ss2k23 warm up] so we can reblog n archive your wonderful works!
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Regarding Image ID's
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Regarding Submission Guidelines
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infernalwitxhcraft · 1 year
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Winter Solstice Tea
Alright y'all, I was going back and forth between posting a ritual tea blend, mulled wine, or wassail. The tea ended up winning, mainly because I've had too much mulled wine lately. However, I will reblog recipes for those in case you're interested! Next year, remind me and I'll share my personal recipes for them :)
Tea blend:
- Orange peel (1 part)
- Nettle (1 part)
- Raspberry leaf (1 part)
- Cinnamon (1 part)
- Ginger (1 part)
- Honey (optional)
I usually measure my "parts" by teaspoons. Feel free to adjust it to your preferences, if I am using this many herbs in a blend then I tend to keep it equal. I get a big tea kettle ready and place the mix in my tea infuser. Usually, I make a big blend and put it in a container (with a date & label) for easy future use while I'm at it. Please make sure to be using food grade herbs or ones from your own garden to be sure it is safe for consumption!
Drink on the winter solstice or any other winter holiday! Honestly, this is just a great blend to survive the cold nights with. I like to have a couple of glasses, put on a good movie, or start a ritual with it in hand. I'll leave a small cup on my altars as well for the spirits!
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hungrydogs-if · 1 year
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happy first monday (let's pretend it's monday yes) of december! it's yule time. i am thriving. also treated myself by slapping together a new update header, hope y'all like it!
this last month has been spent on a lot of reflecting, on how i want to go forward with this game, how i've portrayed it so far, and how my friends have reacted to my ideas and idle chatter about it.
i feel like i've made the game seem... comedic. i mean, it is, to some extent, but not this much. i'll be trying to show more of the gritty, dark, and heavy side of it in the future. i mean, even a buddy of mine called it an endearing little saints row fan-game so i almost gave up on this entirely. my heart still sinks when i think about it.
but i'm getting off track! sorry about that. before continuing, here's the word count update!
word count: 5648 -> 6657
i realize that this number is super small for a month of progress, and i can't say the other one has fared too well either. it's been a bad month for me all around, and i now work two jobs just to keep myself afloat which is not doing my creative spirit any favors. the mental health is crumbling y'all.
good news is that i've gotten permission to take my laptop to work and can tinker on the game when there's nothing else demanding my attention. which should bump up the number for next months update, because i would love to get at least the prologue finished and edited so i could release it before new year. a dream if i ever had one for sure.
about sam: they went though a makeover! i've not yet made changes to their pinterest board, and there's no changes happening to their backstory; they're still the same sam suffering from a terrible upbringing, who talks their way out of trouble while fighting off chronic migraines by smoking enough weed to put snoop dogg to shame. there's of course more to them but that feels most apt right now haha.
i can also say that there are now five endings to the game, if i make sense of the outlines. three of them are main endings, with their own little minor epilogues depending on a variety of things (mostly who's alive, carrying choices, etc.) and two bad endings, at least for now. not counting mc deaths as bad endings though, since there are multiple points where they can die so it'd be pretty redundant.
anywho, happy holidays to those celebrating, and sorry for a late update!
🧡
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HI STEPH! How has your December been?
Hey Lovely *HUGS*
LOL do you want the "Tumblr happy place" version or the "might be a bit depressing" version??
Tumblr-mask version: It's been alright. We've got some snow now, and it feels a bit more Christmassy. Glad I'm on holidays and just enjoying the time off :)
Real life version: We've got some snow now, and I hate snow. And life's been a bit of a gong show for the past month or so. (cw below cut, medical, retail frustration, and depression mentions)
TL;DR: It's December. Hopefully the new year looks a bit more promising <3
As you all know, this kind of all started back when my job was very uncertain. I had a bit of a brief break when I got my raise and talked with the chief of staff. Few weeks, maybe, then just the desire to have a holiday started to kick in because I realized how EXHAUSTED I was.
I recently went though a pain in the ass experience with my car's manufacturer regarding a small repair on my car that was only supposed to be a one day thing and turned into nearly 3 weeks of me not having a car and them refusing to give me a rental because I don't have an "extended warranty" even though I'm still covered under a warranty. Because of the kind of person I am, this spiralled me into a nightmare scenario of me stressing about not having a car three weeks before Christmas, fighting with the dealership to give me SOME sort of compensation (and failing) and them not being able to tell me when I get my car back – I wanted it back before my Christmas break this week because I prefer to go out during the work week when it's less busy. Anyway, coincidence or not, the missing part MYSTERIOUSLY arrived two days after I escalated my situation with the head office telling them their customer service was shit (in a nicer way, of course, LOL), so I at least have it back now. But not an experience I would wish on my worst enemy, it was THAT stressful.
Leading up to Christmas, work was insane. We're short-staffed and just... no one was "feeling it" this year. We're all tired and we all just want holidays. I took off three extra days since I still had time to book off, so my holidays started sooner than everyone else, and I am so glad I did it. I'm not looking at anything work-related for the next two weeks, thanks.
I don't like winter at all where I live (it's always gloomy and wet; rarely any sun at all), and it feels like my brain is rotting from all the Christmas shit being shoved down my throat. There, I said it. I don't like Christmas, haven't since my dad passed away 2 weeks after Christmas over a dozen years ago. I like the aesthetics of it – the lights, the decorations, the hot cocoa and fancy drinks – but it's TOO MUCH for TOO LONG, and by the time Christmas is here I am DONE. I'm TIRED of people being SHOCKED that I don't like Christmas... ugh. PLUS my seasonal depression spikes badly at Christmas because all people seem to do is like to remind me how alone I am. Like thanks, appreciate it. UGH. The only thing I like about Christmas is that my work gives us 2 weeks every year between Christmas and New Year, and I spend most of that alone watching movies, drinking cocoa or playing video games. It's wonderful. I hear about everyone in my extended family having to visit all these people on Christmas day and I'm like LOL I'm in my jammies watching the Avengers, thanks, you keep that stress.
Christmas is EXTRA kinda poopy this year because one of my closest extended family members found out they have throat cancer at the beginning of November. They're in chemo right now and in good spirits, so I'm trying to stay positive about it, but it's hard to not think about, you know?
Discovering a lot about myself in therapy, and it's mentally draining. That's all I'm comfortable sharing right now.
I'm just all around TIRED and LONELY and feel like no one cares about me, y'know? I feel like I'm never going to be anyone who accomplished something worthwhile (and before y'all say it, my BRAIN LOGICALLY KNOWS THIS IS ALL FALSE, but my wires get crossed and the depression sinks in instead with the intrusive thoughts – My therapist finds it fascinating that I have this kind of awareness and she's trying to find a way to work around it). Some days are worse than others, especially in the winter in this city going on month 2 of no sunshine, UGGGHHH. Having moods that change with the weather REALLY fucking sucks.
AND I've been looking again at getting a cat, but I think I might have to once again put it on the back-burner, because my phone is finally crapping out (it's an iPhone 6S Plus, so it's OOOOOOOLLDD by today's standards) with the camera jittering and the battery barely lasting 4 hours in standby mode, so I might have to get a new one sooner than later. AND I also want to re-look at getting a mortgage again so I'm ready when the housing market inevitably crashes and I can get a condo cheaper than 500K :/ My rent is still cheaper right now because I'm so grandfathered in that I'm paying under 1000$ right now for rent, so staying where I am is the SMART thing, but I'm miserable because the space is too small now. ANYWAY, money. Can't get a cat right now AGAIN because of money. Ugh. I'm not broke by any means, I just.......... am so annoyed my single-person groceries have gone from 50$ a week to 150$ a week, and I HATE HATE HATE it. It's ridiculous. Finally get a raise but I can never catch a break, it seems :/ It's not Avacado Toast, Karen, it's the whole damned economy.
So yeah, that's basically it. I don't talk about myself that much here because I am a fairly private person. I don't like bothering people with my problems because I always feel like a burden. Sometimes, though, I just wish I had a human person I could visit regularly to chat with (that I don't have to pay for, LOL), is all. AND my blog is my happy place, so I try to keep it positive where I can.
Hope you're having a good month, and I hope the holidays treat you well <3
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askamykruber · 2 years
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Hiya! Since the puppets seem to enjoy Christmas and Thanksgiving, how do they feel when it comes to Halloween?
Hi this is Owen Gubberson, Sadly Amy cannot answer this particular question, and well the subject of asked is in fact quite delicate, so I chose to canc-
Owy, what are ya doing? I was getting some-
Shi- Hi Amy!
Owy, is that a guest asking a question?
Yes...
Oh, great! Wait-Were you 'bout to say you're cancellin' a question?
....
Owen, are you tryin' to cancel out a question?!
...
Owen....
....
Owen Joseph Gubberson Wells, I swear if you don't answer this instant-
IT'S ABOUT HALLOWEEN!
Halloween?
*Noises* DID YOU JUST SAY HALLOWEEN?! "
"LET ME ANSWER, I GOT SO MANY FACTS!"
"I MADE THE BEST PUMPKIN CARVINGS!"
"I HELPED ORGANIZE THE FIRST PARTY, AND I AM THE LEADER OF THE HANDEEMEN"
"I pranked my teachers on my first Halloween"
Scout, that was not nice, you know?
"I baked cookies :)"
NO! WE ARE NOT ANSWERING THIS!
"He's just bitter from that time my aunt got him to dress as a flower to match her bumblebee costume, @theworthlessdragon"
THAT IS NOT THE CASE, SARABETH!
"If that's so, Uncle Owen, then let your kids answer"
Beth's got a point, dear
NO! WE ARE NOT ANSWERING THIS
"Awww :("
"Why not, Father?"
"TYPICAL OF THE LAB RAT!"
"But Halloween is our excuse to go out without pretending to be inanimate objects!"
"C'mon, Gubberson! Where's your Halloween spirit?"
Halloween is over Scout! We DON'T have to answer this :)
"He. Is. Bitter."
Shut it Beth!
*Rolls eyes* Y'all fight in the back while I respond to this question!
Sorry about that, my dear. This has been a constant fight Owy and I have regarding lettin' the kids enjoy Halloween.
As far as you can see, the Handeemen are very enthusiastic about Halloween and the fact that they can go out and pretend to be a costume. They're also the whole "Hide the sugary stuff from Scouty" but let's get to the best and most positive aspects.
Like I said before, the Holidays were a way to help us grew closer with the puppets. Halloween was no exception.
We did have to clarify that umm using their former resources as decorations perhaps could not be the best idea.
Or legal, but that's a concept we're trying to teach them.
We often try to dress up the kids for Halloween using costumes we find for their size, or sometimes Mama helps me make them.
"We once got a family costume idea to go as characters from horror, classic, and Halloween movies Anthony and I dressed up as Jason from Friday the 13th and Carry. My aunt Amy even got dressed as Tiffany Valentine and got Uncle Owy to dress up as Chucky!"
It was certainly a fun memory, Beth.
Scout was not really onboard with the idea but we conviced them to go as Danny from Hocus Pocus.
"Riley went as Freddy Krueger"
Nick decided to go as the sad looking goth guy from that Tim Burton film. What was it again? He had scissors for hands.
What was the name again, Beth?
"Edward Scissorhands. He used rubber scissors"
Oh, right!
"Daisy decided to go as one of the witches from Hocus Pocus so Scout wouldn't feel left alone. I think we went as Winifred."
The Sock puppets and automatons were Zombies
"And Mortimer stole the show referencing the villain from that Alex Hitchcock movie: Rear Window"
Got a flashlight and everything.
But that was years later. Their first Halloween they just went as their normal selves and adores seeing every decoration. They asked us when the next Halloween was and agreed that perhaps we can get into an agreement to decorate the studio every Halloween.
Hope that answers your question!
-Amy
OCC/Phantom: I made a reference in one of Beth's dialogues. Hope y'all can catch it ;)
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brothertonyghost · 2 months
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" # Brother Cory Brother Wolf Holidays this song isn't just as they could be Angel spirit like this Snow spirits talking like in the Frozen 2 but I'm seeing Spirit in heaven of JoAnna Frances VanOstrand not only on Easter Sunday but every Sunday Morning Jesus I'm praying for her lord I can't handle seeing her gone lord but she Passed Away never made it and went to heaven anyhow like in the Assassin's creed Brotherhood next is another gaming time that we end all bad killings all bad crimes and shooting or Bullying Threatening Harassing Hating Lying Spying Hacking Talking Running Hiding Shooting Slapping Fighting War Drama Bullying Y'all know what? I came out free and now I'm posting about partying drinking and celebrating but I pray and do Church Melvin I am ready for new songs this is Sunday morning 2 minutes until we feel better I've known his name for a long time I know how to call him in prayer I just say Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus "
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thegospelhighways2020 · 2 months
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" # Brother Cory Brother Wolf Holidays this song isn't just as they could be Angel spirit like this Snow spirits talking like in the Frozen 2 but I'm seeing Spirit in heaven of JoAnna Frances VanOstrand not only on Easter Sunday but every Sunday Morning Jesus I'm praying for her lord I can't handle seeing her gone lord but she Passed Away never made it and went to heaven anyhow like in the Assassin's creed Brotherhood next is another gaming time that we end all bad killings all bad crimes and shooting or Bullying Threatening Harassing Hating Lying Spying Hacking Talking Running Hiding Shooting Slapping Fighting War Drama Bullying Y'all know what? I came out free and now I'm posting about partying drinking and celebrating but I pray and do Church Melvin I am ready for new songs this is Sunday morning 2 minutes until we feel better I've known his name for a long time I know how to call him in prayer I just say Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus "
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