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#Fractured
ehlihr · 1 year
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i have a 60+ page comic i made for my thesis that im pretty happy with and i’d love if you checked it out.
you can read it for free on my website, or buy a high res PDF/epub, or preorder a physical copy if you’d like.
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frie-ice · 1 year
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After the first trailer for Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken came out this thought has reached everyone's minds, Chelsea the mermaid looks exactly like Ariel. Making Chelsea Ariel's evil DreamWorks counterpart, twin/identical cousin or a clone Ursula created and then sent to the world of DreamWorks. To ensure that the real Ariel doesn't turn Chelsea good, like she did to an Ariel clone I had read about in a Disney Princess comic as a kid. Even though Chelsea looks just like Ariel, she also have some Ursula-like traits. For example, the trident is most likely the one we saw in the hands of Ruby's kraken grandmother queen and that Chelsea will most likely use the stolen trident to go gigantic. Not waning to use someone else's "evil Ariel" artwork without asking, as that will be stealing even if I do credit them, I decided to use Fractured Ariel from the Disney Mirrorverse  app game.
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theficpusher · 7 months
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Fight me? by lunarheslwt | nr | 1747 'Fight me,' the high voice quipped from under the mountain of pillows, and Harry let out a chuckle, snapping his mouth shut immediately because what was he doing?? The anesthesia must still be wearing off. Harry walked up to the patient again, bemused, and tugged at the pillow, but the person had a surprisingly strong grip on them. Again, with more annoyance in his tone, he said, 'fight me.' Or, Harry is a nurse, to a slightly loopy and sassy Louis.
Green Jello | T | 2341 In Liam’s defense, he’d mostly been joking. Louis didn’t see it that way, of course, but he wasn’t sure anyone else would either, had their best friend dared them to jump into the ocean in the middle of December “for the vine,” and they’d ended up in the hospital with a nasty case of pneumonia and a very high chance of being stuck there through Christmas. *** Louis is stuck in the hospital for the holidays. The only spot of hope is his unfairly pretty nurse.
sunbeams by ohsailor | nr | 2492 Harry is the new neighbour suffering from insomnia. Louis is the night nurse across the hall trying to find ways to help him sleep. They find one that works.
One Way Out by nialleritdidnthappen | G | 5060 Niall was almost surprised that anxiety hadn’t gripped him the moment he got home, that he wasn’t sitting vigilant by the phone, willing on sheer, idiotic hope for the burner number to pop up. The physical demands of the night had taken their toll, so much so that he simply focused on breathing deeply, every exhale clearing his lungs as well as his mind, emptying it of everything but the silent mantra: All you can do is wait.
beat the darkness by turnyourankle | T | 7754 Harry is a volunteer nurse stationed in Cairo; Louis is one of the patients in his ward.
Night Shift by banaanipoika | E | 8899 Louis is into his nurse and suspects the feeling may be mutual. He’s not afraid to take it further and push their relationship beyond the bounds of professionalism, but Harry has been erring on the side of caution. One night, twelve hours into what’s turned out to be a sixteen hour double-shift, stressed, lonely, and delirious with exhaustion, Harry gives in and shows Louis just how unprofessional he can be.
You Gotta Swim, Swim For Your Life [Series] by jaerie | E | 25242 Harry never thought he would find himself battling cancer. Louis never thought he would find himself so attached to one of his patients.
Somebody's Got Your Trainers On (It's You) by bluegreenish | E | 28000 Louis hasn't thought about Harry since half an hour after the shift started, when Krystle told him that she was binging Gogglebox last night and therefore didn't get enough sleep - a sure reminder of Harry’s temporary Gogglebox obsession. Five hours isn't much without thinking about someone, but that's as long as it gets. Louis came to terms with that two years ago. When Harry walked out the door with his stupid New Balance trainers and never looked back. or, the one where, after two years, paediatrician Harry returns to Silver Street Hospital and with it to paediatric nurse Louis' life.
Fractured by thisonegoes | E | 33022 “Can you tell me your name?” A nurse. A nurse's voice. His penlight flashes in front of Zayn's eyes, first his right, then his left. A quick back and forth. To test him. To see if he’s still here. He blinks it away. It’s too bright, stop it, I’m here, am I dying? Hospital AU.
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kay101kim · 10 months
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fractured
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warning(s): none
pair: james wilson x gn!reader
one shot or hc: one shot
note: this is a bit angsty, also not sure if i 100% like it nor do i have the desire to continue. i promise that more fun and fluffy prompts will be found so i can write, but im just getting back into it! please enjoy<3
word count: 713
house md masterlist
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“What is this? What do I mean to you? Are you ready to even be with me?”
All of these were valid questions from you, far too long of pondering and wondering what was even going on between you. Tired and afraid of what these questions would reveal about the relationship, but you had to know. If he meant what he said, wanting to grow old together, loving, and comforting each other in these times of self-doubt.
Wilson didn’t miss a beat to respond, “Of course I’m ready to be with you!” It revealed almost as a shout, angry, confused and yet truthful all at the same time. He loves you, was that answer not enough?
“Then be with me, James!” you yelled in the same fashion, frustrated, concerned, the tension had been building and it burst in Wilson’s office. You were simply talking about a patient, but everything crumbled so quickly, it felt suffocating. You wanted to sit down, cry, beg him to give you an answer with absolute certainty. Yet you haven’t heard it, not in his voice nor in his actions.
“I… I can’t- I-'' Wilson responds, stuttering, nervous and tripping over his words profusely because he had no idea how to handle the situation. In his other relationships he often moved too quickly and now he was afraid to do the same with you and yet you kept teetering at wanting to move on. To be together. Wilson was afraid of what that might mean, how it could be too hurried.
“What do I mean to you?” You could only repeat yourself, maybe then you would get an answer. Your voice was stern, dripping with desperation, begging that something could be done or said that would simply fix all of these issues you’ve been having.
“You mean everything to me… I’m just-” He went forward to grab your hands, but the surge of confidence left him and he softened his grip on you. Looking at you as if somehow his eyes could tell you the answer, but you’ve already tried that.
“It sure as hell doesn’t look like it,” this time you were angry, your expression grim and dark at the thought of how much he had been avoiding you. Staying at the hospital for days, going to House instead of you to fix the root of the problem. Oh hell it made you angry, you restrained yourself as best as you could, but Wilson noticed it easily. He knew how upset you were, and rightfully so. “You were the one who didn’t come home, didn’t call, I had to beg for answers from House. You’re treating me just like your ex-wives.” The words flew out before you could think, it made you feel guilty but at the same time you could never hide what you were truly thinking. The silence was clear and he looked at you, painfully, and you couldn’t help but stay silent at your own words.
“Take that back… take it back.” Wilson rushes up to you once more, tears welling up in his eyes. He was obviously hurt, tormented by what you thought was so true. And all you did was look at him, his hands at your sides begging.
“I can’t take back what’s true.” You were a cold-hearted bitch, you admitted to yourself in the moment but if he was going to treat you like a divorcee then he might as well know it. You tried not to let the tears fall, successful at first but as soon as his grip softened. He gave up and it felt like the battle of this relationship had been lost so easily, as if no one was trying to reach out again. His head was towards the ground, the tips of your fingers about to touch his head, but when the tears rolled down your face there was nothing else to do.
Wilson had lost, and had not fought hard enough. He did treat you like his ex-wives, he made the same mistakes all over again and yet he couldn’t look up. To look you in the eyes, with all your ache and disappointment just like all his other relationships. You were gone by the time he spoke, soft, broken, his voice cracking…
“I’m sorry.”
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Fractured [Part Two]
Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician
Pairing: Elvis Presley x Addison Goodwin, Elvis Presley x Priscilla Presley
Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Gladys Presley, Vernon Presley, Colonel Tom Parker, Priscilla Presley, Jerry Schilling, Marci Cunningham, Mary Jenkins, Original Female Character
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 6840
Summary: Moving on and letting go are two different things.
Tags/Warnings:   Heartache, Angst, Elvis and Priscilla Wedding, Anger, Crying, Jealousy, Love, Weddings, Kissing, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Germany, Army Elvis, Non-Canon Time Line, Engagement Rings, Grief, Grieving,
Notes: This took a while because it wasn't hitting right.But it means ya get two addie/elvis fics in one week and some elvis smut! Enjoy xx
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PART ONE // ELVIS & ADDIE MASTERPOST
August 1958
The Bible was sitting on his nightstand, waiting for Elvis to reach out and grab it. Waiting for him to open it and find something, anything, that would bring him comfort and peace. And yet he didn’t, he couldn't, because at that moment the book resting on his nightstand wasn’t anything more than just a book. It didn’t bring him comfort, it didn’t bring him peace because nothing would, nothing could, not even his faith because at the moment he wasn’t sure he had any. And that was because he didn’t understand. All his life he had seen a plan; he had understood that God sometimes had to be unfair to make provisions for something ahead, but this didn’t make sense. No, his God wouldn’t be this unfair or this heartless.
It was one thing to take his mother cruelly early, but it was another to take away his only source of comfort, the only person he loved as much or more than her.
His mama. Addison. His mama. Addison. Addison. Addison.
Both of them had been swirling around in his brain making his heart feel as though it had been broken into fragments, their names etched on the pieces, taking turns to slice at his insides but now, alone here in the dark, it was just her.
Up here it was just Addison because he didn’t have to think of anything but her. For the past few days he hadn't had time to focus on her absence. He couldn't focus on how her being missing at a time hurt him because the grief of watching his mother fade from existence was more consuming. He had been by her side until the end and then after that, when all he wanted was to lay by her side and cry he had been forced to carry on. To comfort his father, his family, and even his fans at what they had lost as if he hadn't lost it himself. And now he was here, alone in his room looking for his own source of comfort and it wasn't there. She wasn't holding him as he wept or stroking his hair as he clung to her. No, all he had was the thought of her.
And the more he thought about her the more he failed to understand. He’d asked the Colonel of course, when he’d gotten a moment to breathe he’d asked for him to look into Addison just disappearing only to be told that he’d already asked around and no one knew where she had gone. He’d even questioned Jerry, cornering him at his mother’s wake and begging him to phone Marci so he could ask her what she knew, only to find out from the dejected teenager that she had unceremoniously dumped him stating that there wasn’t much point of them continuing given she was headed to college and he was still in Memphis. And even if he wanted to make the kid feel worse than he did, force him to pick at his own fresh wound, there wasn’t much point as Jerry informed him the last thing Marci had said about Addison was that she had stopped returning her phone calls.
And that if he was being honest was a tiny comfort. At least if she had chosen to run away it wasn’t just him she had left behind without so much as a see you later. Yet that was why it didn’t make sense, because Addison had lived that life, a life where she was left and forgotten about time after time and he couldn’t see her doing that to anyone she loved. And she did love him, despite everything he knew that.So why hadn’t she come back?
At first he had given her the benefit of the doubt because he could understand that given the way her life had panned out how she could think that two years apart was just too big of an obstacle to face, but once his mother died, once she had seen that he was alone he’d expected her to come back. To come home.
And yet she hadn’t.
Elvis reached for the bible, flicking it open to the page he had last been reading. It was a passage about grief, the words spread across the page bringing no comfort, and nestled in between them was a picture of Addison. Looking at it brought with it a pain in his chest, one that threatened to stop his heart cold, and yet he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop looking at her hazel eyes sparkling at him behind the camera, her soft brown locks curled around her face, her lips turned up in a smile at whatever he had been saying. And as he stared at the picture he couldn’t stop from wishing with all the pieces of his broken heart that she was there in front of him right now, watching him with that same smile.
But she wasn’t and for all he knew she was never going to be again, just like his mother.
And with that he got angry because his mother hadn’t chosen to leave him. She hadn’t wanted to go and yet she had been forced to but Addison had the choice and she was choosing wrong.
As anger flooded through him he threw the bible to the ground and he yanked the drawer of his nightstand open rummaging around inside for what he wanted. It didn’t take long for his hand to clasp around a rusty old tin box that he tipped the contents of back into the drawer before he placed it on the bed. Then he moved to the stack of books on his nightstand. He was frantic now, plucking each and every picture of them that were woven into the pages as bookmarks out and throwing them angrily into the box. Once they were tucked inside he moved back to the drawer digging for another reminder of her. He found it, his fingers brushing over the velvet until his hand was clasped around it tight enough so that he could pull it from the junk.
It was only then he slowed, opening the box until the ring was staring back at him, showing him his own heartbroken face in its glittering reflection. He pulled it out, inspecting it like he had the first minute he’d clapped eyes on it. The moment he had known he was going to ask her to marry him.
Yet they wouldn’t have that now. That promise was broken, ripped from him as his mother had been. Still, as he eyed the exquisite white gold ring in his hand he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it because to do that would be to admit it was never going to happen. To get rid of the ring, the pictures, the memory of her would be forcing it to just be a memory. And he couldn’t do that. So he did the only thing he could and threw it on the pile of pictures, closing the lid of the box over the top of them, until he had a reason to open it again.
September 1959
‘So that’s when Daddy got moved here, to the base I mean, meant I had to leave mid semester,’ she said her words lingering in the air as Elvis failed to respond. He hadn’t been listening but as she fell quiet his brain kicked into gear telling him that now might be the time to offer an answer.
‘Oh that’s too bad,’ Elvis said and though his words were non-committal they seemed to be enough to keep her happy as she carried on telling him about him about her first few weeks in Germany. He looked at her, staring just above her eyebrow in an effort to appear as though he was remotely paying attention. Yet no part of her conversation had caught his interest because it wasn’t the conversation he was here for.
He was here because just for a moment when she’d walked through the door, facing just slightly away from him as she’d taken off her snow-covered coat, he’d thought she was Addison. And in that moment he hadn’t  had a thought. He didn’t wonder how it might come to be she’d be here, in Germany, at his rented house. He didn’t wonder how she’d be brazen enough to walk in with the rest of the joining party – unbothered and casual. He hadn’t thought about any of it and instead he’d leapt from his chair barrelling past his party guests until he was standing in front of her only to find it wasn’t Addison but someone else. Once he’d realised it wasn’t her he should’ve just left her alone and gone back to his seat to wallow but foolishly he’d hoped that being similar to her in looks would make him feel as though she was here with him like he needed her to be. And for a brief moment it had, well, until he’d invited her upstairs and they’d gotten to talking.
It wasn’t that she was unlikable, in fact, she was actually quite sweet from the bits he’d bothered to listen to, it was just that she was well lacking. Their conversation was pleasant but there was nothing biting, nothing edgy to it. She didn’t keep him on his toes. She didn’t cut him with a razor-sharp wit that left his ego wounded and that fire in his belly stoked. She couldn’t even handle him being suggestive without a flush of deep crimson christening her cheeks and neck. No, he’d been a fool to think he’d find a comparison to her.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked yanking him out of his thoughts once more. She was looking at him, familiar hazel eyes boring into his face.
‘Uh yeah fine,’ he lied standing up off the bed as he mumbled, ‘I was just thinking maybe we should get back to the party.’
‘Oh do we have to?’ she asked forlornly and for a second he was going to come up with some excuse about how it wasn’t really fair to leave his guests in the lurch though that was a lie. Everyone in attendance knew that there was a chance they’d come and not see him at all as he holed himself away in his room with whatever pretty face he’d chosen for the night. Chosen to make him feel something. But then she scrambled towards him and slipped her hand into his which forced him to look at her.
Except it didn’t feel like her hand. Her pouty lips and disappointed gaze didn't look like hers, it looked like Addison’s and whatever excuse he had thought of flew out of his brain. He didn’t respond, instead, he moved in to kiss her roughly hoping that would feel like Addison too. She squealed as he did so making him smirk. She might have not had the wit and charm of his ex-love but the way she could have the wind knocked out of her by Elvis’ advances was uncanny. He could picture her now, pretend that she’d just said something that would make him run his tongue along his teeth, unable to think of any comeback other than to kiss the shit-eating grin off of her face.
‘Elvis,’ she murmured as his lips migrated down her neck eliciting a whimper.
‘I’mma make you feel good baby,’ he said hoping she’d stop talking. He didn’t want her voice. He didn’t want to be pulled back to reality.
He pushed her back towards the dresser, his hands moving up under her dress until he got enough purchase to hoist her up onto the dark wood his hand moving between her legs until he was touching her covered sex, his fingers brushing against the material and earning another moan. If she’d been less accommodating he would probably have taken his time and used his well-honed skills to make her come undone before he got to what he needed but she was pliant and eager to please and so he didn’t hold back. He barely bothered to get his pants down, the fabric gathering around his thighs, before he was tugging his dick to attention his fingers teasing along her folds.
‘Oh God,’ she whimpered as he pushed two inside of her, his thumb rubbing against her clit earning another moan. He had to admit she looked pretty like this, her chest heaving as she panted because of his touch, yet watching her brought him back to reality. It made him remember that she wasn’t who he wanted and that was something he needed to change.
‘That feel good baby? Want me to make ya feel real good?’ he asked earning a strangled yes in reply. She was giving him the green light and that was all he needed. In one fell swoop he replaced his fingers with his cock burying himself in her to the hilt and though she gasped at the fullness of him he didn’t slow down because he couldn’t. He didn’t slow down because now he had an excuse to bury himself in her neck, pretending that the way her fingers knotted in his hair was Addison’s touch. Now he wasn’t watching her he found he could let go. Every moan, every whimper, every touch became Addison’s.
He could feel himself hitting a good rhythm, his climax coming like a freight train speeding down a track, and it was spurred on as her whimpers became more frequent her own fingers moving to do the work he should have done. He could see her in his mind, splayed beneath him her pouty lips open to allow her whimpers to slip out, her eyes closed as she rode through the bliss. Whether the idea of fucking her on top of a dresser was a memory or a fantasy he didn’t know at this point but it was enough to get him to the edge and as he teetered over it, not thinking about pulling out, he found he was calling her name, his words falling out of his mouth without him allowing them too.
He stayed still for a moment, reality crashing down on him as he felt her stiffen beneath him and when he pulled out she was looking at him, her hazel gaze less welcoming than it had been five minutes ago. She didn’t say anything to address it but Elvis felt as though his skin was on fire from the way she was looking at him alone, and in that moment he became angry. Irrationally angry as if it was her fault that she’d had the audacity not to be the woman he longed to be with and rather the woman he’d just fucked.
‘Elvis,’ she said hesitantly, placing a hand on his still-clothed bicep though he shook it off. He moved away, refusing to look at her as he tucked his softening cock back into his pants, zipping them up and ignoring how tight they felt against his tender skin.
‘You should go back downstairs,’ he said. She was still on the dresser, her legs splayed open and panties pushed to the side doing nothing to stop his expenditure from seeping onto the mahogany beneath but he refused to look at her. He refused to look at her because it would only make him angry once more. Except this time he wouldn’t be angry at just her. He’d be angry at himself for thinking she would make him feel any less empty than he did.
‘Elvis,’ she whispered.
‘Are you deaf?’ he grunted, finally staring at her with annoyance. At that, she seemed to realise that the situation was beyond repair and so she quickly scrambled from the dresser, smoothing her dress out before she dashed from the room, closing the door behind her rather harshly.
As the door slammed shut Elvis sighed and sunk down on the bed a wave of sadness engulfing him. He flopped onto his back, trying to ignore the way tears had gathered in his eyes, slipping down his face and getting lost in his hair. He was a fool. Not only because he had managed to make himself look like a prize asshole in front of a girl who had been nothing but nice to him but because he’d done it by convincing himself he could change reality. He had allowed himself to believe that he could make himself feel she was there with him. That it was her he was holding, loving, in all the ways he yearned to do. He should’ve known that wouldn’t happen. He’d never been able to make it happen with any of the girls he’d met so far and yet he’d been stupid enough to hope. He’d been stupid enough to think that because someone looked a bit like her it’d be like she was there. When how could that be true? He’d never met a soul like her. He’d never met a soul that matched him so well in all his life. No, she was a rarity, one he’d no doubt never find again.
As that thought struck him he sat up. The question was, did he want to find that again? Of course they’d been well-matched but there were things about her that he couldn’t stand. Her stubbornness, her pride, her refusal to let him help at any turn. They were qualities he hated, qualities that riled him up. Hell, those qualities were probably the reason he was sitting here alone. So why was he looking for them in other? Maybe he needed something different from that. Maybe he needed someone a little easier to love, someone who wouldn’t run away at the first sign of trouble. It would sure as hell be easier.
For the past year he’d been trying to replace the memory of her and failing. Maybe it was time to forget all that. Maybe it was time to think about moving on, to someone who wouldn’t leave him, to someone that would love him and care for him. Surely he could find someone like that around here somewhere. After all, it wasn’t as though he was lacking suitors. When he finally felt well enough to head downstairs he thought about it. In fact he was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even notice he’d walked straight into someone, a party of people arriving late.
The girl he’d walked into whipped around, awestruck blue eyes finding his. She was pretty in a cute sort of way. Her blue eyes shone against her pale skin, enhanced by the white and blue striped dress she was wearing. Her hair was up and she was wearing a thin layer of makeup though Elvis suspected that was to make her look older than she was.
‘Well, what have we here?’ Elvis asked waiting for her to speak. She didn’t though but her blue eyes never left his as Currie said, ‘Elvis this is Priscilla Beaulieu. The girl I told you about.’
‘Hi, I’m Elvis Presley,’ he said offering a hand out to Priscilla who still seemed hesitant but shook it anyway. He only vaguely remembered what Currie had told him, some young girl on the base stuck here because of her father’s job. It was nothing new but what had intrigued him was the fact she’d only just landed from the States a couple of months ago which meant that he’d finally have an ear to the ground about what was happening back home, more to the point if he’d been forgotten.
‘So,’ Elvis said hoping she’d loosen up enough to talk to him, ‘do you go to school?’
‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘What are you, about a junior or senior in high school?’ he asked making a flush dance across her face even her makeup couldn’t hide. When she didn’t respond he felt the irritation from before creeping back in and so he pressed, ‘Well?’
‘Ninth.’
‘Ninth what?’ he asked confused.
‘Grade,’ she said in a voice so quiet Elvis wouldn’t have known she'd even responded if he hadn't seen her lips move. Again his thoughts flew to Addison. He thought of the first time he had seen her at the fair, how even knowing who he was hadn’t stopped her from rolling out that smart mouth of hers.
‘Ninth grade,’ he said. He had thought she’d been young but he hadn’t guessed she’d be that young. It made him chuckle; no wonder she was nervous she was just a little girl. A thought he made immediately clear as he said, ‘Why you’re just a baby.’
‘Thanks,’ she said curtly. So curt in fact it stopped him in his tracks. He hadn’t expected it, such tartness to come from a face so young and innocent and yet it made his heart flutter for the first time in over a year.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘seems the little girl’s got spunk.’
At that she faltered, her reply of ‘seems so’ falling flat on its face as he gave her his dazzling smile. They talked for a bit longer and once again Elvis found that he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation yet it wasn’t because he was bored. It was because he was thinking of her.
She was sweet, flirtatious even once she relaxed a little around him and once again he felt that flutter in his heart accompanied this time by a warmth in his lower belly. Though as she talked to him about meeting Currie he found his mind wandering to Addison again. He could see similarities between them and yet there was something more to Priscilla. Something different. As he shifted on the couch, his arm going behind her she stiffened and that’s when he clicked what it was. Innocence. She was like Addison in the way they were both beyond their years and yet she had this innocence to her, something Addison had been forced to lose prematurely, and though he knew it shouldn’t that idea excited him.
She had the basics of what he liked and yet she was unfinished. Like she’d been waiting for someone to mould her into who she should be and the thought of being the person to do that excited him. Maybe he didn’t have to search for what he wanted. Maybe he could create it himself. 
March 1965
As Elvis stepped out of the car he breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long day at the studio but at least he was home now, his feet touching down on familiar soil as he made his way through to the kitchen. Mary was standing by the counter, wiping it down with a cloth, but she turned when she heard movement at the door, a kind smile on her face as she said, ‘hey.’
‘Hey,’ Elvis greeted.
‘Good day?’ she smiled and though it had been anything but Elvis didn’t have the heart to knock his kind faced cook down and so he shrugged and said, ‘had worse.’
‘Well how about I fix ya sumthin’ to eat?’ she asked earning the first genuine smile from him he’d had all day. It never failed to amaze him how food could turn his mood from foul to elated at its mere mention. Then again considering he’d no doubt be living on a regime of rabbit food and diet pills once he headed out to California to film it didn’t surprise him the prospect of good food was appealing even if it was only for the next couple of weeks.
‘Thanks,’ he said though he paused as he reached the stairs, turning to look at her as he said, ‘actually can ya leave it like a half hour? Let me get showered and changed?’
‘Sure thing honey,’ Mary smiled turning away from him and allowing him to leave.
He headed up the stairs excited to get under the scalding hot water and wash the remnants of today off. It was his own fault he supposed. When the Colonel had told him about his upcoming flicks he had hoped beyond hope that they’d be good. Yet as he’d poured over the scripts his heart had sank. They weren’t good, they weren’t even decent. Once again he found the plots lacking, the production cheap and the soundtracks well they were painful in their own way. He tried to like them and even though they weren’t the kind of music he wanted to record that hadn’t meant he’d put less effort in them and yet they still sounded stale. His voice was perfect, his delivery of the lyrics well timed and artistic and yet it did nothing to improve them. He wished the Colonel would see what it was doing to him. How the recycled plots of Elvis being a lovable rogue torn between too lovers was getting old but he didn’t. No, the Colonel never saw anything but dollar signs and so long as Elvis kept the money rolling in, which no matter the quality of the film he seemed to, he would never steer away from a tried and trusted thing.
It was just a shame it made him so goddamn miserable.
He was almost at his bedroom door, the prospect of wiping all traces of the day away so close he could almost feel it, but as he pushed the door open he stopped noticing Priscilla was already inside, sitting on his bed. She didn’t notice him in the doorway and for a moment he smiled, thinking about the laugh that would pour out of him when he made her jump out of her skin, her bright blue eyes going wide before she chastised him for scaring her. Yet as he looked at her properly he realised there was a reason she hadn’t noticed him. She hadn’t noticed him because her eyes were transfixed on the ring she was holding between her delicate fingers. Addison’s ring.
And strewn around her was every letter, picture and memory of the girl he’d once loved.
It made the blood in his veins turn to ice and before he could even contemplate what he was going to say he found the words falling out his mouth automatically, his voice gravelly and serious as he asked, ‘'What are you doing?'
As he spoke Priscilla’s head snapped up, her blue eyes going wide the way he had anticipated but instead of falling to amusement as he’d planned they stayed wide and embarrassed. Elvis felt embarrassment inside him, the idea of her seeing the outpourings of pathetic longing making him want the ground to swallow him up. Yet just a quick as the feelings of embarrassment had come they were gone replaced only by anger. Anger at her for snooping. Anger at himself for being so thoughtless as to keep the stupid thing lying around. And anger at Addison for making him unable to let it go in the first place. It had been years since she’d left him and yet he’d never managed to part with the damn thing, always clinging to the hope of one day.
'I was just looking for something,' she said meekly, 'I didn't mean to-'
'What snoop?' he said moving forward in three quick paces.
'It was caught at the back of the drawer,' she said in an attempt to explain but he wasn’t listening. He wasn’t listening because he couldn’t focus on anything else but getting every scrap of Addison back into the box. If she was in the box he wouldn’t have to think about her. If she was in the box he could pretend that pain in his chest wasn’t there. Which is why he snatched the ring from her hand and tossed it back into the box followed in quick succession by the stacks of letters strewn around her. She watched every moment, concern in her blue eyes that he pretended not to see.
'Yeah well you should've put it back where you found it,' he snapped tossing the box into the drawer and kicking it close. He could breathe now. Now that she was out of the way, banished from view he could pretend his heart wasn’t hurting and yet as he looked at Priscilla, watching him with sympathy in her eyes he felt his heart hurt all the same.
'Elvis,' she said but he didn’t let her finish. He didn’t let her come out with whatever pity or understanding she was going to because to do that was even worse. And so he clung to the anger that had been brewing in him from the moment he had walked through the door.
'Get your kicks huh? Snooping through shit that ain't yours?' he spat looking at her with fury in his eyes.
'I just...you've never mentioned her before. Addison,’ she said. Her words were quiet, as if she was prodding enough so that he’d feel comfortable enough to explain himself, but he didn’t want to talk to her about this, about her, because talking about her hurt just as much now as it did years ago. And to talk about her would mean he’d have to explain how she’d hurt him.
'Don't,' he said venomously, 'don't you dare say her name.'
'But-'
'Get out,' he said cutting her off.
'Elvis,' she protested.
'What are you fuckin' stupid as well as nosy?' he asked prying her off the bed with a grip so tight he could've sworn bruises were already forming the moment he let her go pushing her towards the door, 'get the fuck out of my room.'
Priscilla scrambled towards the exit turning back to look at him as he took a seat on the bed his fists clenched where they rested on his knees making the skin of his knuckles turn white. The anger was bubbling inside him though it was accompanied by an ounce of guilt caused by the way she was watching him now, stunned by his behaviour, and too scared to ask anything. Not that he’d tell her he was feeling guilty because that might risk her wanting to talk about it. At least this way she’d been too scared to. Even so when he elected to say her name he uttered it softly so that she knew she wasn’t in trouble.
'Cilla?' he said. He knew she was still in the room, hesitating by the door, though he refused to lift his head from where it hung, his gaze transfixed on his shoes for fear he’d start crying. She’d already seen his pathetic ramblings on tearstained army stationary she didn’t need to see him cry over a girl he’d lost more than half a decade ago. She didn’t say anything, no doubt close to tears over herself over the way he’d manhandled her, but she didn’t flee, instead she waited for whatever he was going to say. And he found the only words coming a plea rather than a command as he said, 'don't you ever bring her up again.'
He didn’t look up as she left, slipping from the room and closing the door behind her gently, no, he was too busy trying to force the tears that were blurring his vision back in his eyes. Though as the anger continued to rage on through him he found it was easier to do so. As he felt his gut churn with bile, his insides rotting at the fact she could have him so churned up nearly a decade later he found it was easy not to get upset. In fact it was easier to do than it ever had been before. He didn’t need Addison now. He didn’t need to cling to the heartache and pain of her memory. He couldn’t let her rule his life, no, if he was going to move on he needed to push her out of his mind, the way he had asked Cilla to, and so he moved from the bed to the drawer pulling the old, battered tin from where it had been thrown.
He was going to throw it in the trash can, finally putting the memory of her where he needed it to be, and yet as he stood next to it, the tin feeling like an anchor in his hand he couldn’t find the strength to. He couldn’t let it fall into wicker basket below. Instead he found himself walking through to the next bedroom until he was stood in front of a wardrobe. It was jammed with stuff, clothes he hadn’t even worn yet, but there was still a spot up top that the box nestled in perfectly. As the door swung shut and obscured it from view he sighed. He might not have been able to get rid of her completely but he could tuck her away, force the love he still felt for her to lie dormant instead of tearing at him like it did every day. He could move on.
May 1967
‘I can’t do it,’ Elvis said as he fixated his gaze on the vast expanse of desert outside the window, not daring to look back at the Colonel whose eyes he could now feel boring into the back of his head.
‘My boy,’ the Colonel sighed, moving towards where Elvis was standing. Elvis didn’t dare turn. He didn’t want to look back because it had taken him all his courage to get the words he’d been longing to say out of his mouth and he knew that with some cajoling the Colonel would be able to talk him around after all it’d been him that had talked the happy couple into having it in Vegas rather than at home. It’d had been him who’d convinced Elvis a slimmed down wedding party would probably be better, though he wasn’t sure entirely what that meant, though he assumed it was a way of not inviting most of his family or ‘hangers on’ as the Colonel called them. It’d been him that had informed him that after being shrouded in marital bliss he and his new bride were expected to sit in front of the cameras and answer every stupid question each reporter offered up. If anything that revelation had been the start of Elvis’ nerves.
‘I cant do it Colonel,’ Elvis said again flatly hoping he’d hear the plea in his voice.
‘Everyone feels like that on their wedding day,’ the Colonel said, his words finally making Elvis glance at the man who offered him a smile, ‘everyone has cold feet. It’s nothing new.’
‘What if it’s a mistake?’ Elvis asked.
‘It’s just the nerves talking,’ the Colonel said as Elvis finally turned to look at him. Yet when their eyes met Elvis didn’t feel any reassurance because he could see in them that the Colonel wasn’t here for that. This wasn’t going to be a fatherly chat, no reassurances were going to be offered, no worries listened to. No, the Colonel was here to seal the deal, this was business, not their lives. And so he played the game, as the Colonel had taught him to, and reasoned, ‘I thought you said I needed to be available.’
‘In your twenties sure,’ the Colonel said moving away from him, ‘but your fans, like you, are growing up. They’re no longer the screaming teenagers they once were and they won’t want you to be the same. They’ll want to see you as a husband, a father, a family man. It’s a good avenue to explore.’
‘With Cilla?’ Elvis challenged, the knot in his stomach tightening.
‘She’s a nice enough girl,’ the Colonel said as he made himself a whiskey, ‘though I won’t deny that there hasn’t been a few issues what with her being, well you know, but we’ve done well keeping her out of the papers. This is a good thing my boy. Running around with models and starlets is all very well until you’re being slandered across the newspapers-’
‘Like with Ann you mean?’ Elvis challenged. At that the Colonel looked at him, taking a swig of whiskey as he got his thoughts into order. It was a good comeback. If it was about publicity why not have him pick Ann to be his bride? If it was about love why not let him and Priscilla do it their way? The way he’d been thinking about when he’d proposed to her.
‘Pretty girls like her might be alright for a night but how many times could you take being second billed before the cracks began to show?’ the Colonel asked raising an eyebrow. Elvis’ jaw tightened. The Colonel had a point. He loved Ann but their lives didn’t align enough both of them knew that. But Priscilla’s did. Hell, to her Elvis was her life. He’d moulded her into his perfect woman, to be what he needed at every turn. So why was this so hard?
‘C’mon,’ the Colonel said when he didn’t reply, ‘you love her don’t you.’
‘Of course I do,’ Elvis answered and when his words came out he didn’t find any ounce of a lie in them. He loved Priscilla of course he did. He’d loved her from those first little rendezvous’ in Germany, when she’d been the only thing that made him feel less broken, he’d just hadn’t wanted to let her in until he was sure he could trust her, until he was sure that she could be what she needed him to be. And she had been what he needed. She was a good girlfriend and the Colonel had a point, even without all the showmanship, she would make a great wife and that was probably something he could do with. It was just that now he was here, with the prospect of sealing their fate with something as substantial as paper and ink, it felt all too much.
‘And it’s not as though you’ve not thought about marriage before,’ the Colonel said casually which made Elvis head snap up taking the older man by surprise though he didn’t hesitate to explain, ‘Miss Paget? Miss Juanico? You’ve even commented about Miss Beaulieu before now am I wrong?’
‘Right,’ Elvis said though that hadn’t been what had gotten his attention. No, what had gotten his attention was the flash of a pretty face behind his eyes. Addison.
He hadn’t thought about her in a least a couple of years but now she was front a centre in his brain. Of course he had talked about marriage before whenever he’d fallen head over heels in love in a matter of weeks which had happened to him more times than he had cared to count. But all of it had been just that, talk. It’d had been muttered dreams and whispered promises as they’d gone through their ultimately fizzling romance. None of them he had planned to marry. None of them he had gone out a bought a ring for except her.
Well, not until Priscilla. That had to mean something, right?
‘Well then,’ the Colonel said, failing to notice how his mind was swimming with the memory of her.
‘What if we’re not meant to be?’ Elvis said, his worries spilling out without him allowing them to. He couldn’t help it because rationalising everything about Priscilla didn’t mean anything if he didn’t feel the same way about her that he did Addison right? Yes he’d bought them both a ring but it hadn’t been the same. With her he’d seen it and bought it without question. With her he’d wanted to ask her to marry him after three weeks, he’d probably even known he’d wanted to marry her the moment she’d walked back into his life. It was like a rope, pulling them together, which is why he’d never doubted it. If he felt like that with her how could he possibly marry someone else. Unfortunately for him the Colonel’s answer seemed to make sense.
‘Fate can only get you so far my boy,’ he said coming to place a pudgy hand on Elvis’ shoulder, ‘it was luck that got you in the recording studio at the same time as Sam Phillips it was talent that took your career where it ought to have been. Same goes for marriage, people meet they fall in love and the next fifty years are work. It doesn’t have to be kismet or fate.’
Elvis hesitated. He could understand what he meant besides what was the point in clinging on to a ghost? He’d always resigned himself to the thought of one day and yet the last time he had even seen Addison had been a decade ago. No, he needed to focus on here and now. He loved Priscilla and she loved him, that was what he needed to focus on.
‘So,’ the Colonel said snapping him from his thoughts once again, ‘are you ready?’
‘Yeah,’ Elvis said, ‘let’s do this.’
ELVIS TAGS
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takunwilliams · 8 months
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pika chu fractured 20223
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n3wkid-archiv3 · 17 days
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Throughout our lives our identity is constantly fractured and shifting; our different selves rise to the surface and fall away, surge forward only to be repressed, or come into conflict with each other in the ebb and flow of psychological and emotional experience.
from the Introduction by Peter Collier to In Search of Lost Time, Book 6: The Fugitive by Marcel Proust
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hy-hyrika · 9 months
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Fractured Soul
Another art featuring Pippi and other OCs.
Feel free to follow me on: Twitter
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ponds-of-ink · 10 months
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Mirror-verse Quasi concept time, bois
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Yes, I finally drew this guy in my own style. Not bad for a first proper attempt.
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chronivore · 1 month
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syms-things-5 · 1 year
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Alive & Well - Chapter One
Part Three of ‘Fractured
Part One can be found here and Part Two here
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Synopsis: Continuing on a few months after the move to Maine, and starting with fresh eyes, Sarah and Chris are certainly making the most of their newfound freedom.
Warnings: Language, sexual language in places. 
Tags: Just following on from Part Two - thank you for the support :) @ppal3​ @bookwormchick91 @redhairedfeistynerd​ @memoriesat30​ @patzammit @before-we-get-started​
CHAPTER ONE
“It was really beautiful, Audrey.” Sarah smiled fondly at her friend. “You should be very proud of yourselves.”
Audrey could feel the relief wash over her as she wrapped an arm tightly around Michael’s waist, leaning her head ever so slightly onto his hefty shoulder as far as she could reach.
“It’s just nice to see everyone again for a happier occasion.”
Sarah held Ben in her arms as he toyed with the teardrop pendant of her necklace, pulling on it occasionally when trying and put it in his mouth. His cute 3-piece suit had long since been discarded in favour of cute, sailor print pjs thanks to his earlier decision of splattering tomato soup everywhere. Michael and Chris had found the whole incident hilarious of course because, well, men, but Sarah felt awful when she spied Audrey looking like she was close to tears. Planning the whole event had seen such a source of anxiety for her over recent weeks that she couldn’t allow herself to enjoy even so much as a piece of cake during the afternoon.
It had taken Audrey and Michael a long, long effort to get to this point. Celebrating Ben’s baptism in one long, love-filled and fun weekend was supposed to be a time of great happiness and enjoyment but alas.
The stress was thanks in no small part to a family falling-out some weeks earlier. Michael’s mother, Margaret, was not the easiest person to get along with, Sarah knew as much from the brief instances they happened to be in the same room together, but when you put her frankness in front of Audrey’s decisiveness, well, it’s not so much sparks that fly as full-on hand grenades.
No amount of calm energy that Sarah attempted to bring to proceedings did much to assuage Audrey from ultimately deciding to disinvite her mother-in-law altogether and Sarah didn’t doubt the heartache from such a choice. If they had to guess, Michael was almost relieved as well. It was a fair point, Sarah thought; no one should tell you how to raise your own child.
As a result, Ben’s baptism was a much smaller and more intimate affair than Audrey had originally intended it be. Not that that was a bad thing. Sarah knew the fight had been upsetting but those in attendance were making the best of efforts all things considered. Chris was certainly getting into festivities when the whisky and cigars made an appearance curtesy of Michael’s younger brother, Jack. But the glaring omission of Michael’s feisty mother was more than obvious.
“If it’s any consolation, my mom once changed my nephew’s school outfit without telling my sister.” Chris offered. Bless him, Sarah thought. He was trying. “All hell broke loose.”
Chris positively bristled at the memory. Sarah and Audrey exchanged knowing glances.
Oh, to be a man. 
 *
If there was one tiny, insignificant thing Sarah could have changed about the proceedings from the day, it would be the amount of food she ended up consuming. And enjoying. Like, really enjoying. There was also wine, and lots of it, and a honeyed whisky aura that Chris had been emanating for the last hour or so as they made their way back to the hotel. His sweet breath in her face as they rode the lift to the top floor should not have been as appealing as it turned out to be.
Audrey certainly knew how to throw a party for her friends. Judging by the way Chris collapsed on to the end of the bed when they finally arrived back at the hotel, he appeared to agree.
“I don’t think I’m gonna make that swim in the morning.” Sarah called out from the bathroom.
She leaned one hand on the counter and attempted to remove the straps from her heels so she could relieve her feet from the stress of the day.
“Well, you know how I feel about swimming.” Called Chris from his position on the bed, just slightly out of Sarah’s view. “Why would you want to get up at such a ridiculous hour anyway when you could just stay in bed with me and eat waffles?”
It was a valid question, all things considered, and one she proceeded to give serious thought to as the second shoe landed on the tiled floor with a clunk. If she never had to wear heels again, she thought, it’d be too soon.
“Besides,” His voice got a little louder as he approached her. “You have an amazing body; you don’t need swimming. In fact, you don’t need anything. You just need me. I’ll keep you fit.”
He winked at her and she smiled gratefully as he leaned towards her and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
“Be that as it may, I need to figure something out eventually. I can’t just lounge around the house all day waiting for you to come home.” She retorted, only half joking.
“You’re not lounging around. You’re decorating and making the place look beautiful. I mean, it’s already beautiful just by having you in it but all the other stuff is great, too.”
All the other stuff.
Sounds about right. Yes, that had been the grand sum of the past five months apparently: stuff. It wasn’t meant to be a dig of course, she knew that, but she also felt it sting her a little more than she would openly admit to in the current setting.
Chris had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t need to rush to find a new job, or new studies, or a new…anything. She could take her time. Rest up and enjoy life on the picturesque coasts of Maine. She could stay in her pyjamas all day every day if she wanted to. He just enjoyed them both being in their new house together at the same time.
He enjoyed figuring out layouts for different rooms, and colour schemes, and then choosing random swatches of material without giving them a serious thought. He’d never particularly enjoyed that before but it was different when it was with someone you were making a home with. He could absolutely get on board with interior design in a heartbeat or even carpentry although the new tool station that magically appeared in their garage a few weeks back caused Sarah a small pang of concern.
But he was also aware of where her head was it. Very aware in fact of how she was feeling deep down. Stuff like this always made her feel uncomfortable. Relying on people as she called it, relying on anyone for anything was a massive hurdle she had yet to overcome and no amount of support from her partner would make any sort of difference to that creeping feeling of…uselessness. It was getting more pronounced as the weeks rolled by.
For as long as she could remember, it wasn’t that she always had a job exactly but more that she always had a plan. She always had something to work towards, an end goal, a win, a challenge. Simply put, she didn’t like not doing anything. Chris had jokingly called her an ‘over-achiever’ during dinner one night a few weeks after they had first moved in and while he meant it with a great deal of admiration, it unwittingly led to their biggest argument to date. The second-hand embarrassment about that night that Sarah continued to feel to this day was the worst. It wasn’t something either of them wanted to repeat.
She paused for a moment, considering how to respond while he was stood eying her up from her side.
“We’re pretty much done now, though, so it would be good for me to figure out my next steps. Audrey reckons they’d snap me up at Lincoln, if I wanted to look into it eventually.”
“Yeh but what’s the rush, though? When was the last time you took a really good break from things? I thought you enjoyed all of this moving in with me stuff.”
She tilted her head sympathetically and turned to face him.
“God, I really have, but I can’t keep expecting you to pay for everything.”
“You absolutely fucking can!” His eyes lit up with childlike excitement at the prospect. “Money’s money. You’re looking after us in different ways that are much more valuable.”
“No, Chris. I appreciate what you’re saying but I don’t like not contributing” She said it with a tone that displayed more annoyance than she intended it to. “Audrey knows someone at Lincoln College and they’re looking for teachers as it happens. Plus, I could do most of the teacher training aspect online so that would probably cut down on the travel in the early days.”
“This sounds an awful lot like you’ve figured this all out already. Without me.”
“Not really.” She quickly glossed over the last part. “It’s just been in the back of my mind lately. And I actually think I’d enjoy teaching for a little while. You know, pass on my wisdom or whatever.”
For a moment, she felt her attempt at humour fall flat on the floor besides them and she didn’t know how to rescue the situation.
“You have a lot of wisdom.” He murmured after a quiet moment, trying to get himself on board as much as he could.
She turned to look at him again, gratefully.
“Thank you.”
“They’ll be lucky to have you.”
She smiled again, casting her eyes down as she felt her cheeks heat up. 
“Well, we don’t know who “they” are yet, so, you’re probably stuck with me a little while longer.”
His smile finally reached his eyes.
“Good. I’m glad about that.”
“What if you get sick of me, though?” She joshed with him.
“Doubtful.” He answered without missing a beat and not appreciating her joke even though he knew she wasn’t being fully serious. “It’s just that…we went from finding days and weekends here and there, just trying to find a little bit of time to be together, to this wonderful now where we get to do it all of the time and honestly, it’s fuckin’ awesome.”
He really was a giant kid.
“And I’m not just talking about the sex either.” He continued, causing Sarah to bubble out a giggle. “Although that definitely gets an honourary mention. But the other stuff, too, like cooking together and that time we argued about blinds. I genuinely did not know that mundane crap could be so much fun. I don’t wanna lose that, Sarah. I don’t want to be like those couples that end up being like ships passing in the night or whatever the frig that phrase is.”
He was seemingly in his feels now and she wished he didn’t have to be half a bottle of whisky in to tell her this stuff but, regardless, it was touching to know he felt that way.
“We’re not going to be like that. We might have periods where it feels like that,” she noticed the concerned furrow in his brow. “But I think we can be sensible about it and still make time for each other. It won’t feel as bad in the end.”
He pursed his lips as he watched her remove the last remnants of make-up from around her eyes.
“Y’know, we could always….” He drifted off quietly before finishing the sentence.
She glanced at his reflection in the mirror as she reached for another a make-up wipe, waiting for him to finish his thought.
“Could always what?” she asked after a few more seconds of silence that seemed to last longer than she anticipated.
He rolled his eyes to the top of his head, clearly thinking about approaching the subject that had been playing on his mind longer than he would admit to if asked outright.
“You see how happy Audrey and Michael are, right? Do you ever think about getting one of those?”
“One of…? A baby?”
“…Yeh.”
He seemed almost shocked when the word finally left his mouth. It just hung there between the two of them, waiting for one of them to catch it and run with it. While it wasn’t altogether unpleasant by any means, it was certainly not how she expected this conversation or weekend to end.
“Um, I mean, yeh, I guess. One day. Yeh, that would be lovely. It just wasn’t on my immediate radar is all.” She said calmly before registering that this was Chris who had brought it up and if there was one thing she knew about men, pretty much the only thing she knew about men, it was to pay close attention to them when they started talking about babies. “Wait, is it on yours?”
“God, yeh! I love kids, always have, but there’s just something about you and having kids with you that just really gets me going, y‘know?”
Was he trying to have a serious conversation with her about their future, or was he coming onto her? She supposed the two weren’t mutually exclusive where procreation was concerned.
“Right. Well, that’s…OK.” She briefly floundered with her make-up wipe and could feel her heart beating faster in her chest. It was like nerves before an exam only louder and she could feel it start to affect her breathing as well. It was a little uncomfortable if she was being completely honest. “Cool.”
“But only when you’re ready.” He proposed, a little too quickly. “I just want to make that clear. I’m not saying that just because we’re relaxing now and spending all of this time together that we should start trying or thinking about trying straight away. Not at all. There is absolutely no pressure.”
Oh, right. OK. That helps.
“And babies take, like, nine months to grow and stuff and there’s never a guarantee that you get pregnant as soon as you start trying so really, we could be talking years into the future. Like, two or three years or something.” His words seemed to tumble out of his mouth but sounded confident nonetheless.
“Yeh, that’s one hundred per cent.” It was the best she could offer him.
“I just mean that we’ll do this in good time. Our time. We’ve got lots of time.” He added, as though he could read her mind. “They always say that making a baby is the fun part anyway, right? And let’s face it, we’ll be really good at the fun part.”
An awkward, nervous huff of a laugh left her mouth involuntarily. Make-up wipe still clutched tightly in her hand and her beautiful, hopeful boyfriend standing in front of her, she was at a complete loss as to what to do now. Should she hug him? Maybe do a jig?
“Cool.” He said, nodding quickly, clearly recognising his turn to mask the silence.
He smiled at her, kissed the tip of her nose, and turned to go back into their bedroom.
“Wait-” he turned back equally as quickly. He scratched at his forehead, creases around his eyes displaying the panic that had suddenly set in. “You’re OK, right?”
“Yeh, course.”
“I don’t wanna freak you out. I’ve freaked you out, haven’t I?”
“No, not at all.” She protested. “I just wasn’t expecting to have this talk in the bathroom of a hotel is all. But there’s nothing wrong with that. We both like kids so we’re on the same page there which is the main thing.”
“Yeh, but I also didn’t want you thinking that I had a calendar in my pocket or something, or was asking Audrey questions about changing diapers and shit.” He worried again. “’Cos, again, that is such a way into the future for us, I’m not even thinking that far ahead or anything.”
He waved his arm wildly in front of her as if to prove a point of time. It was kind of cute, how he always tried to put her mind at ease, always making sure she was comfortable and happy and enjoying life and not, say, inadvertently causing her to have heart palpitations.
“Yeh, no, I know. I get what you’re saying.”
He nodded again but his wariness had already set in and now he was feeling like a tool.
“Chris, you need to calm down, alright?” She started again. “It’s fine. Like you said, it’ll all probably happen in good time.”
She took a step towards him and placed her hands gently on his face. She felt him relax under her touch and returned a soft kiss to his lips.
“OK?”
He closed his eyes, nodding a little, and ran his hands up her arms as she held onto his face.
“Oh God…” He sighed with disappointment.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just…I really wanna have sex with you now but I don’t want you to think it’s a ruse or something.”
She giggled at his utter ridiculousness. He laughed, too, and the atmosphere in the room felt somewhat soothed.
“We can still do that.” She whispered.
“Yeh?”
“Yeh.”
*
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empresskadia · 2 months
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Also before I go to bed, Fractured part 2 is in writing process, here's a sneak peak scene so far.
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I hope I get it done by Saturday but no idea.
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belleshaw · 3 months
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External Stress
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jamiesonwolf · 9 months
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The Weight of You - A Poem
I bought you a t-shirt. When I saw it, I thought of you, but I will not be the one to give it to you. You have not spoken to me in twenty-seven years, over half my life. I don’t know why I thought of you, only that you bloomed in my mind and I pressed buy now before I could think about the reasons behind the action. When she asked me if I wanted you to know, I told her yes, then…
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Fractured
Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician,
Pairing: Elvis Presley x Addison Goodwin
Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Marci Cunningham, Priscilla Presley, Jessie Presley, Original Female Character, Original Male Character, Colonel Tom Parker
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 8500
Summary: Escaping the most famous man in the world is never easy.
Tags/Warnings: Heartache, Hidden Pregnancy, Angst, Elvis and Priscilla Wedding, Anger, Crying, Jealousy, Love, Single Parent, Motherhood, Single Mother, Weddings, Kissing,
Notes: Okay so this is just as angsty as the most recent chapter of Here You Come Again but I feel like I need to defend my gal and her actions
Question is would you want to see a parallel fic to this from Elvis’ POV
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PART TWO // ELVIS AND ADDISON MASTER POST
August 1958
The air was still and quiet save for a few faint gurgles as the babies were disturbed in their cribs by the sound of an opening door. Addison knew she shouldn’t have been in here, that she should’ve been sleeping as the nurses had told her to, but for some reason, she couldn’t make her body rest no matter how battered and broken she was feeling. She couldn’t make herself sleep because she couldn’t stop herself from missing her daughter. She was barely six hours old and yet Addison felt as though she didn’t remember what life was like without her in it. She supposed it was because now was the first time she had been alone, truly alone. The last time she had felt like that was the first night she had spent at St Bernadette's, sobbing her heart out as she thought about the life that had been ripped from her just hours earlier, and yet even then she hadn't been alone, not really. Even if she hadn't known, she’d been with her, helping her through everything – giving her a reason to carry on when all seemed lost. Which was why she was desperate to see her. To hold her in her arms and cherish the feel of her. Addison had thought she’d known love before now and yet it seemed to pale in comparison to the love she had for her little girl.
The little girl who disturbed as she got to the side of her crib, her tiny features contorting as she plucked her from her cot before she broke into a guttural sob. Addison watched as fat tears rolled down her reddened cheeks, trying not to take it to heart as she figured she too wouldn’t have taken to being jostled awake into a world she barely knew.
‘Hey,’ Addison murmured as she moved to sit down in a rocking chair in the corner of the room, the baby bundled into her arms, ‘hey now, it’s okay. Sshh it’s okay.’
Addison held her close, hoping that her aura would be enough of a comfort as she didn’t have much more in her arsenal than cooing. But the baby didn’t settle, instead, she continued to wail making tears prick at Addison’s eyes as she floundered for something, anything, to help her.
‘It’s okay honey. Mama’s here see,’ she whispered, her hand placing soft pats on her daughter’s back as she continued, ‘oh come on. You’re gonna get us in trouble. C’mon now lil miss, can’t have the nurses scolding me on my first day on the job.’
To Addison’s surprise the baby then fell quiet, tears still on her dampened cheeks though absent from her eyes as she peered up at her mother watching her with curiosity. They were eyes she knew all too well.
As she looked down at her daughter’s cerulean gaze she took in everything else. She was the most beautiful baby Addison had ever seen and yet every inch of her was like a dagger through her chest, every feature, every expression so much like Elvis she couldn’t bear it. From the intoxicating blue eyes to her pouty lips even the tuft of sandy hair on her head was enough to make Addison want to weep.
But she pushed it back. Over the last nine months she had done enough crying to fill a goddamn river but she didn’t have time for that now, not when her daughter needed her. Not when she was watching her as if hanging on to be told whether or not to start crying again. Her little girl needed her to be brave, to be strong, and so she put on her keenest smile and whispered, ‘you like that name huh little miss?’
‘Sounds good doesn’t it? Though I suppose I can’t name you the first thing you answer to,’ Addison whispered laughing as the baby shifted, a gummy smile on her face her mother chose to believe was agreement, ‘thought not. I guess we’ll have to think of something that’ll last…any ideas? Yeah me either.’
She was settling now, the sound of Addison’s voice rumbling against her providing a lasting comfort that made her close her eyes, and though she no longer had a captivated audience Addison found her own comfort in speaking to her daughter as if she was listening anyway.
‘You know I thought once you got here I’d just know…what to call you I mean,’ she explained, her thumb swiping over a damp cheek as she did, ‘I thought once I’d seen your little face I’d be able to tell what your name should be. Whether you were a Sharon, a Susie, or a Lisa but you don’t suit any of them. In fact, can I tell you a secret?’ she asked, pausing to glance around the room. It was empty, apart from the babies, but she lowered her voice anyway as if what she was admitting was only for the two of them.
‘I’d swear I didn’t know you were a girl at first glance…you look so much like your daddy,’ Addison whispered.  At her words sadness washed over her though it somehow didn’t feel as bad as it had earlier. She didn’t know whether it was because she had her daughter in her arms or because she had been thinking about him a lot today but either way it wasn’t the gut-wrenching ache it normally was. She didn’t speak for a moment, the flash of him behind her eyes too strong to get rid of just yet. She thought about him. Tried to picture what he was doing at that very moment, contemplating if he would even be able to fathom where she was or what she was up to right then and there. She wondered if he would even think or care about her after all by now the Colonel was sure to have pumped such vitriol into his ear he probably hated her.
And yet she still loved him, heartbreakingly so.
As an errant sob escaped her, causing the baby to stir, she choked it back choosing to get back onto the process of finding a name as she said, ‘guess we can’t name you after him though huh? Can’t even give you his last name.’
She didn’t know why her next words came considering she was trying to steer her thoughts from Elvis yet as her daughter lay there in her arms she felt compelled to explain, even if she would never remember, she felt that she owed her some reasoning, some explanation as to why she had made the choices that had inevitably led them both here.
‘I would if I could you know…if there was any way I could do it differently I would but we ain’t that lucky,’ she said sadly. It wasn’t enough, it was never going to be enough of an excuse but it was all she had which is probably why she felt the need to tell her daughter, ‘he’d love you, you know. Oh, he’d be obsessed with you. Probably have already bought you an entire nursery full of stuff…he’d know what to do, what to name you,’ she said feeling the tears she had promised not to cry slipping down her cheeks as the idea of Elvis holding their baby girl played on her mind, ‘not me. I feel like I don’t know anything anymore.’
It was an honest confession, one she hadn’t even expected to come from her own lips and yet now it was here she felt better. If she was being honest with herself she didn’t feel like she knew anything. She didn’t know how she was going to raise this little girl in front of her because for the past year all she had done was put one foot in front of the other focusing on the goal and not what would happen when she finally got there. When her dad had died it had been about getting through the week. With Elvis it was till graduation. When she had found out she was pregnant all she had thought about was getting to the birth, all of that other stuff she had thought would slip into place.
And now she was stuck.
With barely anything to call her own but a little girl who was now depending on her for everything. A little girl who she couldn’t even think up a name for. If she’d had been allowed to stay it would’ve been different. Not easy but not this hard. And it wouldn’t be the real things, the things that mattered that were hard. Elvis would’ve been besotted with her she knew that. It was other stuff that would’ve taken its toll. The fans, the papers, the Colonel. She wondered how his parents would’ve taken the news. If they would’ve changed their minds about her now she had borne them a grandchild. She wanted to believe that they would, that the beautiful little girl in her arms would’ve been enough to win them back over though she doubted it. For Elvis maybe, not for anyone else.
Though the struggle in her mind was internal and her baby completely ignorant to her mother’s turmoil she felt as though she had to explain anyway, that she had to reassure the sleeping child about worries she did not have.
‘He’s still part of you. I want you to know that…even if we can’t be part of his life he always will be. You’re still his little girl,’ she said firmly receiving nothing but a yawn in return. It was true. No matter the circumstances or the turmoil nothing would ever take away that fact. Whether they could be together or not that didn’t matter because they were tethered together forever, even if he didn’t know it. Maybe that was why she was having such a hard time deciding on a name. Making any decision without him somehow seemed final, like cutting him out of their lives for good. And though he would never be able to be part of their lives having that finality was like another dagger to the chest. Which is why she wanted to pick right. If she was going to make a decision, name their daughter without his input, she wanted to make sure she chose right. If anything she wanted to give her his last name though she knew it would never be an option. So maybe something relative, something no one would know but enough to feel as though he was there, part of their little girl’s life in some form. 
She thought of his cousins and friends – none of their names feeling youthful enough for the tiny babe in her arms. She thought of his Grandmother and found Minnie to feel alien in her mouth given that Elvis had taught her at just three years old to only refer to the older lady by his affectionate moniker. And then she thought of Gladys, his best girl. If she was going to pick anything it should’ve been that after all his mother was a worthy namesake in Elvis’ eyes and yet a heartache in Addison’s. Could she spend the rest of her life looking at her daughter and seeing the eyes of the woman who felt betrayed by her? No, no she couldn’t.
She was running out of options, cursing the fact he had so many damn men in his family until her mind ran over a memory. A memory of a baby, a child, part of Elvis’ life and yet not present, never destined to be. Just like the child in her arms.
‘Jessie,’ Addison said quietly, making the child’s eyes flutter open as she stretched, clasping her hand around the finger on her cheek which made Addison chuckle as she said, ‘you like that huh?’
As a tiny hand squoze her mother’s finger Addison smiled and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead before she pulled back and murmured, ‘well Jessie let me tell you something. Your daddy will always be a part of you but for now you’ve only got me. And like I said I don’t know what I’m doing but I’m going to learn. I’m gonna be whatever you need me to be okay? No matter what, you got me. Always will, okay?’
She didn’t answer, that darling girl in her arms.but the glow of her familiar blue eyes and the squeeze on her finger was enough.
June 1965
‘I should go,’ Addison panted, as his mouth continued the fervent assault down her neck, his tongue lapping at the sweet spot that always made a shiver run down her spine.
‘Mmhmm,’ he hummed against her skin causing a petite moan to fall from her lips. It made her feel heady, almost making her forget her train of thought until her eyes caught the clock on the dash showing it had just gone nine. She needed to go and yet she didn’t want to, not when he was kissing her like this.
‘Jess is probably waiting up for me,’ she said though she didn’t know who she was trying to convince with that statement.
‘Probably,’ he mumbled as lips migrated back to hers, every kiss accompanied by the feel of his hands aching to get to bare skin.
‘Nick,’ she mumbled hoping he’d hear the regret in her voice. Hoping he’d understand that it wasn’t her choice to leave either of them high and dry like this. He seemed to notice, pulling back with a disappointed yet understanding look.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said as Nick pulled back, his hand finding hers as he rested back in his seat.
‘It’s okay,’ he shrugged.
‘Honestly, I wish we had longer,’ she said.
‘I know, don’t worry about it,’ he replied offering her a reassuring smile that made her feel a little less guilty though it couldn’t snuff it out completely. She always felt guilty these days given that she was either turning him down because she was too busy or she was out with him and coming home to find Jess asleep at the top of the stairs, where she had fallen asleep waiting for her. She’d dated before of course, though nothing ever this serious. And he was a good guy, a kind and understanding man who seemed to like her despite her baggage, which was why having to peel herself away from him never felt good.
‘You know,’ he said snapping her out of her thoughts, ‘I’ve been thinking.’
‘Oh?’ she giggled wondering what scandalous thing he was going to try and talk her into before she definitely had to go inside.
‘Yeah, I was just thinking maybe next time I could have dinner here,’ he said. He watched as the smile on her face turned to shock, nerves bubbling through her as she said, ‘here? Like at my house?’
‘Well that’s kinda what I meant by here,’ he said with a teasing smile that aimed to put her at ease.
‘Oh…uh I don’t know,’ Addison said his tactics failing to make her feel settled. She didn’t know why the idea of him inside her house got her so at odds with herself. It was a natural progression and yet it still seemed a lot.
‘Why not?’ he asked.
‘Well…Jess would be there,’ she said though she didn’t think that was the entire reason for the nerves in her stomach.
‘Well that’s kinda the idea,’ he said making her wince with stupidity.
‘Oh right,’ she said. No, it wasn’t the idea of him in her house or the prospect of the pair of them meeting for the time. It was that this would be a step forward. Once Jess met him he would be part of their lives, her life, and that was something she didn’t know she was ready for.
‘I mean didn’t you think I’d want to meet her at some point?’ he asked.
‘Of course I did but isn’t it a little soon?’ she said, hoping he’d drop it.
‘It’s been six months Addie,’ he said.
‘Right,’ she muttered.
‘Is that a problem?’ he asked looking at her properly, unable to hide the hurt in his eyes at the idea she wasn’t taking this as seriously as he was.
‘No, it’s just…Jess has never been involved in this side of my life before and I don’t want her getting attached to someone and then it not working out. I just don’t want her to be devastated,’ she admitted, dropping her gaze to her lap. It was partially that but it was also the thought of how devastated she’d be if they didn’t work out.
‘I get that but,’ he said capturing her attention, ‘I guess I thought maybe this was going somewhere…’
‘Me too,’ she replied, the truth falling from her lips before she gave it permission to. And as she looked at him, handsome and understanding, she couldn’t help but want it to go somewhere. To the next step.
‘So, maybe it’s time?’ he asked with a smile as she nodded, ‘I mean we don’t have to say I’m your boyfriend or anything. We could say I’m a friend and see how it goes.’
‘Yeah maybe that’s best,’ she agreed, unable to stop her from smiling as her nerves all but disappeared. He was trying, really trying to make her and her daughter comfortable, and that was what she should want right? A guy who understood, who was patient enough with them. That was what she wanted.
‘So Saturday?’ he asked.
‘Saturday,’ she agreed.
To Addison’s surprise Jess had been completely fine about her inviting ‘a friend’ over for dinner. A fact Addison didn’t know whether to be happy or concerned about. On the one hand she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and make Jess feel as though she’d gotten a new dad in the space of a night but on the other, she didn’t want Jess to be under the impression this was like having her aunt Marci around given it could be more than that.
But either way it seemed she needn’t have worried because Nick had been all she could’ve asked him to be. He wasn’t too friendly, trying too hard to make her daughter like him, but she could see he did care. She could see that he understood Jess was just as important to keep happy as she was. And fortunately he managed to keep Jess on his side by bringing a box of new LPs to the house. Addison didn’t even remember when she had mentioned Jess’ newfound love of the Beatles but the look on her daughter’s face when Nick had asked if she would want to check out the new album with him, pretending he hadn’t had a chance to yet, had made Addison happy she did. It was a small gesture but one that made her feel good all the same.
In fact, it had even made her feel so good she had dared to let them have a moment alone whilst she tidied up after dinner. As they’d toddled off into the living she’d stayed behind trusting they’d be okay without her. It didn’t take long to wash the dishes but when she’d pressed her ear to the door she could hear them chatting and given her daughter was normally shy when it came to strangers she’d decided not to intervene. After all, it wasn’t as though she’d be able to join in the conversation much, her penchant for music being shelved years before evidenced by the fact the only LPs in their house were that bought by Marci. Still, there was only so long she could tidy, clean and arrange before either of them got suspicious and so after a while she was forced to join the party.
They were sitting on the floor; their backs to the door as Jess rifled through the box of albums in front of her. She didn’t even seem to notice her mother had entered though Nick caught her eye for a moment, reciprocating the smile she offered as she watched them.
‘This one,’ Jess said eventually thrusting an album into Nick’s hands which made him smile.
‘Good choice,’ he said as he slipped it out of its sleeve, gesturing for Jess to help which she did eagerly, her little fingers pulling the needle up and cutting the music from the air. As Nick started to swap the records she glanced away finally noting Addison was in the room.
‘Mom guess what?’ she said climbing up from where she was sitting and pulling Addison down to the couch.
‘What?’ Addison asked, her daughter’s enthusiasm infecting her.
‘Nick saw the Beatles live!’ Jess said agog.
‘Really?’ Addison replied.
‘Isn’t that cool?’ Jess asked.
‘Pretty cool,’ Addison agreed, nudging Nick’s thigh with her toe which made him pause in his movements smirking at her as Jess continued.
‘Can we go next time?’ Jess asked hopefully.
‘Sure,’ Addison said smiling as Jess broke into a massive grin turning to her new friend as she said, ‘did you hear Nick? Mom said yes!’
‘I heard,’ Nick said as he slipped the record into place.
‘You can come too,’ Jess said.
‘Well thank you,’ Nick smiled.
Addison was going to smile too but it faded from her face as the sounds of the record player echoed out into the air bringing with it a voice she knew all too well, Elvis. She didn’t know the song and his voice sounded different, lower and smoother, yet it was unmistakably him. And it was like a punch to the gut. One that was made worse as her daughter and her boyfriend continued to chatter, unaware of it all. But Addison couldn’t push it away so she mumbled something about getting everyone a drink and left the room, fleeing to the safety of the backyard.
The air was crisp outside, causing goosebumps along her flesh as she stood in it and yet she didn’t care. If anything having to focus on not shivering was better than the thoughts flooding her brain. It wasn’t that she had eradicated him from her life, he was too famous to ever combat that, but she had learned how to compartmentalise. To put him into this box inside her brain she didn’t have to think of.
In the early days it had been hard to do, instead of tucked away in her head he wreaked havoc inside it, consuming every thought she had. But she had learned. She didn’t watch his films. If he came on the radio she tuned him out, even turning to another station if she was alone. And she steered clear of the news, keeping her reading to more serious publications rather than the trashy magazines that plastered him over their covers. And over time it had gotten easier, whether because she had more in her life to focus on than him or his dwindling popularity amongst the masses she didn’t know but it had become easier. In fact the more she thought about it the more she realised she hadn’t thought about him in a good few months, if she was being honest with herself - six months for sure. And yet now he was here again, clawing at her heart as she tried to move on with her life.
‘Why?’ she thought. Why did he have to come barrelling into her life when she was finally getting to grips with being happy? How could she have an amazing, loving and caring man sitting inside her living room at that very moment and still feel heartbroken at the thought of him? Or was it the absence of him? She’d done her best to rebuild, to put the pieces of her broken heart back together and yet one thought of him had shattered it apart again only this time into more and more fragments. It wasn’t fair.
‘Everything okay?’ she heard Nick say and when she turned around he was coming out of the sliding door, pushing it shut so that they wouldn’t be heard.
‘Fine,’ she lied, ‘where’s Jess?’
‘Bathroom,’ he said hesitating before he came towards her, ‘are you sure you’re okay?’
‘I am honestly,’ she lied once more trying to force her face into something more believable though she wasn’t sure it landed so she said, ‘I’m just getting a bit of a headache that’s all. The music must’ve kicked it off.’
‘Well we can turn it off,’ he said moving to hold her as he accepted her lies, ‘how about we watch some TV?’
‘Sounds good,’ Addison said pulling back, ‘I’ll be in a minute.’
‘Okay,’ he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he let her go heading back inside the house though not before he threw her one last smile which she returned albeit hers was weaker.
As he disappeared inside the house she felt a sob rattle through her, one she forced down as she tried to steady herself. She didn’t know why it had come. After all, she couldn’t have wished for Nick to be any more loving than he had been and yet it had brought no comfort. It hadn’t made her feel safe and secure as she so desperately wanted it to. Instead, she felt nothing. And that was what saddened her.
May 1967
Addison was rushing, barrelling down the sidewalk even though she knew her lateness wouldn’t bother anybody but herself. Her sentiments were confirmed as she walked into the salon to find her daughter standing happily beside her best friend handing her the tools she needed for whatever she was trying to achieve with her client's hair. It gave Addison some relief, that she wasn’t miserably waiting by the window for her mom to show up, but the guilt that it was the third time this week she’d been forced to divert her to her friend’s care instead of being able to collect her from school herself stung.
She knew Jess really didn’t mind. She knew that she understood that Addison was building a future, something more fulfilling than working for Marci. It wasn’t that she didn’t like working alongside her friend and she was immensely proud of the salon Marci had put together so well. It was just that she wanted something of her own, something she could be proud of, something she’d worked for. It was just that the work itself was encroaching on her life. She knew it would do, that having to study and work at the hospital would mean her time with Jess would be hindered but it still didn’t make her feel any better about it.
As the bell on the door jingled Marci and Jess looked towards it both of them breaking into a smile at the sight of her, bedraggled and frantic as she was.
‘Hi, hi,’ she said coming into the room and placing her bag on the counter, ‘sorry I’m late.’
‘Oh it’s alright you know I like having my lil helper here after school,’ Marci said as she continued to place rollers into the hair of the client she was standing behind.
‘Hi Mom,’ Jess said moving towards Addison and wrapping her arms around her middle as she looked up at her. Addison leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead, placing her hands on her cheeks as she pulled back.
‘Hi sweetie. How was school?’ she asked.
‘Good,’ Jess smiled.
‘You managed to catch the bus okay? I know I only managed to call your teacher late,’ Addison said trying to keep the worry out of her voice as she pictured her baby standing by kerb waiting for her mother to show.
‘Yeah she told me before I left,’ Jess said, ‘dropped me off right out front.’
‘Good, good,’ Addison said feeling her nerves ease enough that she let go of her, going to grab her things as she said, ‘you ready for home? I thought we could have pizza for dinner.’
‘Definitely!’ Jess said excitedly.
‘Actually,’ Marci said turning around to face them, ‘could you guys hang on for a minute? I need to pop to the store for some change.’
‘Well I can go if you want,’ Addison said.
‘No it’s okay,’ Marci said as she untethered her apron from around her waist. Addison’s eyes narrowed as she watched her friend. The grocery store she was referring to was only a couple of shops down and they knew Addison so it wouldn’t be any bother for her to do the job not to mention it would save Marci’s client from being left halfway through. Fortunately for Addison, she needn’t play detective much longer as her daughter, who was now sitting behind the reception desk said, ‘she wants to see the new shop boy!’
‘Jessie!’ Marci chastised making Addison roll her eyes.
‘You do!’ Jess giggled looking at her mother as she said, ‘she said he’s really cute.’
‘Oh really?’ Addison mused watching with merriment as Marci’s cheeks flamed red with denial.
‘No I did not!’ she said, ‘anyway even if I did that’s not the point. I simply need change.’
‘Mmmhmm,’ Addison teased.
‘Will you watch the shop or not?’ Marci asked poutily.
‘Of course I will,’ Addison said choosing to let the teasing go, if only for the moment. No doubt would this topic make up most of their conversation once Jess was in bed, Addison living vicariously through her friend’s romantic exploits.
‘Good,’ Marci said more securely as she noted her friend had let the matter drop. As she moved to drop her apron on the counter she pointed towards various customers in their chairs explaining the situation to Addison as if she were back in her old job and not merely making sure the shop didn’t burn to the ground in the time it took Marci to talk herself into a date with the shop boy, ‘I’ll finish Helen up when I get back but if I’m longer than five minutes can you take Sylvia out from under the dryer and take her rollers out?’
‘Sure,’ Addison said earning a nod from her friend though as she headed to the door she called, ‘say hi to shop boy for me.’
‘Me too!’ Jess giggled from her seat at the desk.
‘Oh shut up,’ Marci said with a roll of her eyes that neither of them caught before she headed out the door and out of view.
As Addison turned back she found Jess had started to read a book and so rather than disturb her she decided to make herself useful and opted to tidy up a bit.
It never failed to amaze her how Marci could be such an expertly talented beautician and leave an ugly wake of chaos behind her in everything she did. If anything when Addison had worked here the only thing she had been required to do was keep the clutter to a minimum which with her friend was quite the task. And yet after a long day of running around after patients, doctors and relatives she found that she missed this. Even if the thing she missed was putting 36 hairpins back in their correct location. In fact, she had been so enthralled in the mundane little tasks she had occupied herself with she barely noticed her five-minute timer had run over until Jess called her name and thumbed in the direction of an older woman sitting under a dryer obliviously allowing her hair to fry as she thumbed through her magazine. Addison rushed towards her, switching the instrument off at the wall which caused the woman to finally look up from.
‘Oh, hi dear,’ she said, the confusion of it not being Marci disappearing as she finally recognised Addison.
‘Hi Sylvia,’ Addison said, ‘I’m just gonna get you out from under here okay?’
‘Ooh, you’re a lifesaver!’ she smiled, ‘I’m sweating buckets under this thing.’
‘I bet,’ Addison smiled before she moved the dryer away and set to work on unfurling the plastic rollers from Sylvia’s head, wincing as she felt how hot they were.
She didn’t say anything, her focus on getting the job over as soon as she could to save the skin on her fingertips, and so Sylvia turned to the woman next to her as the two started chattering away about the magazine in hand. Addison wasn’t paying attention, only inserting herself into the conversation to ask her client to move her head this way or that so she could do the task at hand, yet she could hear snippets of a scathing piece of gossip.
‘I don’t know,’ Helen thumbing through the magazine Sylvia had entrusted to her, ‘I just don’t see it myself.’
‘Mmm, I agree. She’s plain,’ Sylvia replied.
‘Well not after all that makeup,’ Helen said scathingly, ‘it’s far too thick.’
‘You’re right. He suits a more natural-looking woman,’ Sylvia said.
‘Oh definitely!’
‘I loved him with that one, what’s her name, the redhead,’ Sylvia said.
‘Ann whats-her-face?' Helen asked earning a nod from her friend that made Addison say, ‘Sylvia!’
‘Sorry dear,’ Sylvia said moving to put her head back in position though she turned it a fraction of a second later making Addison roll her eyes.
‘I know what you mean though,’ Helen said, ignoring the debacle between her friend and Addison, ‘you’re right he looks good with a blonde. What do you think Addison?’
‘Hmm?’ Addison asked, her finger probing a particularly stubborn pin meaning she wasn’t really focused on what they were saying.
‘Elvis,’ Helen said.
That was enough to make her stop, her eyes snapping up as the pin she had been fumbling with slipped out of her grasp and onto the floor, now unnoticed. She didn’t know how the mere mention of him could still have such an effect on her, how it could make her brain go fuzzy and her tongue go numb so that she couldn’t speak. Maybe it was because it was few and far between these days. Maybe it was because she’d learned to avoid all thoughts of him so that the ache inside her wouldn’t rear its ugly head. But unlike before she recovered quicker and was able to push that ache aside almost getting her voice to its normal timbre as she said, ‘what about him?’
‘He’s married,’ Helen said as if she was absurd not to have heard yet.
‘He is?’ she asked trying to remain as normal as possible.
‘Yep, got hitched yesterday right here in Vegas,’ Helen said turning to show her the magazine article that had his face plastered all over it. He looked handsome, excruciatingly so in his dark tux, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness. And beside him, his new wife.
‘We were just saying we don’t think they’re very suited. What do you think of her?’ Sylvia explained. Addison paused. What did she think? More to the point could she honestly offer an opinion? She didn’t know the girl given that she avoided all articles about him where she could but she had to admit she was very pretty. Raven-coloured hair that matched his, blue eyes brightened by the dark eye make-up she was sporting, and skin so radiant she appeared as though she was wearing no makeup at all. If anything she looked like a perfect little doll beside him, something that could slot into his life with ease – the perfect little housewife. But she didn’t know her, she doubted she’d even know the man he was now or what he’d want. So instead of saying all that she held it inside her only offering, ‘Oh I don’t know much about her. I don’t really have time to follow the news.’
‘You guys are from Memphis thought right?’ Helen said asking with a chuckle, ‘bet you know a lot about him.’
‘Not really,’ Addison said.
After that Addison appeared to lose joining in privileges, the women favouring opinions that leant to slander and gossip rather than niceties. Addison didn’t care, she was too busy trying to focus on getting the rollers out of Sylvia’s hair as quickly as she could so she’d have an excuse to get away from their chatter which only stopped as Marci came in looking less enthusiastic than when she had left.
‘You’re back soon,’ Sylvia said as Marci stood in front of them, slipping her apron back on.
‘Jack wasn’t, I mean the store wasn’t too busy,’ Marci said, her cheeks tinged red at the slip-up. They would’ve flushed deeper if the sarcastic quip she was expecting from Addison came but it never materialised. Instead, when her friend glanced up at her she found her face unreadable, making nerves bubble inside the blonde.
‘Everything okay?’ Marci asked coming towards her but Addison simply nodded and said, ‘take over?’
She didn’t even wait for Marci to agree instead she slipped the couple of rollers she’d just removed onto the counter and fled towards the safety of the back of the shop. There wasn’t much back here apart from a small stock room and an area for Marci to have a break whenever she got the chance but it was enough, enough to be away from prying eyes. Only it wasn’t as though she was going to cry. No, to her surprise she wasn’t even all that sad about him getting married. It was bound to happen eventually. No, she wasn’t sad, she was angry.
Angry that he could move on. That he could find someone else, someone he’d share the rest of his life with when he’d promised her the world.
Angry that this girl, this beautiful girl got everything she had wanted and more. Angry that she got to be his, truly his, for all the world to see.
And most of all she was angry at Parker, though that was nothing new, but her anger flamed anew now as she thought of all he had robbed from them only to place it into the lap of a girl who looked even younger than she. What narrative had he managed to spin around that she wondered? Or did he simply use the same tactics he’d proffered to employ for them?
Or was it just that idea she didn’t fit, that she was never going to fit into his life? The loud, brash teenager, with a mouth and an attitude problem. The girl with no family, well no family left worth a damn, that Elvis, kind, sweet, charitable, Elvis had been forced to take pity on. The one girl who'd forced him to have to leave his country, his home, and his mother behind all because he’d been stupid enough to fall in love with her.
Not even now would she fit. Still that girl but now a mother, with a bastard child in tow. To even attempt to tell him about Jess now would be to turn his entire world on its head. To tell him now would mean she wasn’t just changing his life but ruining a family.
Still, her anger burned on, for the family they could’ve been.
‘Addie?’ she heard Marci say, coming into the back room and shutting the door quickly behind her as Addison straightened up, feeling the urge to wipe her face though there were no tears. She hesitated, watching her friend with pity as Addison waited for her to speak.
‘They told you huh?’ Addison asked, running her tongue along her teeth as she thought about the old dears attempting to corral Marci to be another voice for their salacious soiree.
‘Yeah,’ Marci said quietly, ‘you okay?’
‘Fine,’ Addison lied making Marci towards her until she was close enough to put her hand on her arm. Addison’s gaze fell to the floor as she tried to force her face into a neutral position. As she tried to push the anger inside of her down, anger that flared as Marci said softly, ‘Addie.’
‘What?’ she said looking up at her, her jaw clenched.
‘You don’t have to be okay you know,’ Marci said.
‘I said I’m fine,’ she said tersely, ‘so he’s married. So what? It’s fine. I mean it was going to happen eventually right?’
‘But-’
‘Mar just leave it okay? I said I’m fine,’ she said abruptly, ‘look I’m just gonna take Jess home.’
‘Okay…how about I come over tonight? Girl’s night?’ Marci said. At that Addison softened. She knew it wasn’t Marci’s fault. She knew she shouldn’t allow her anger to spill out on her or God forbid Jess. But to ensure that didn’t happen she needed to be alone.
‘Actually, I think I’m gonna have dinner and go to bed,’ Addison said moving away from her friend, ‘I’m tired.’
‘You sure?’ Marci asked.
‘Yep,’ she said offering her a small smile. It had been a while since she’d had to use this; the mask she placed on herself to keep the world at bay. The mask that ensured no one asked too many questions. And as much as she needed it, it pained her to see her friend fall for it. To see how she accepted Addison’s assurances freely as she said, ‘well call me if you need me.’
Addison didn’t say anything but she nodded and headed out into the main salon where Jess was already waiting for her, schoolbag in hand and a curious look on her face as she wondered what the hell had been going on back there. She had been told to stay put, her aunt practically barking an order at her as she’d chased after her mother. But even without that, she would’ve known something was amiss.
‘Ready to go baby?’ her mother said beckoning her forward as she nodded. Addison was heading to the door when she felt a small hand slip into her own and looked down to find Jess smiling at her. She may have had her mask on for the world but her daughter, like her father, could read her too well for any of that. And though she was angry and frustrated her heart felt a little bit better because of it.
April 1969
‘Hey,’ Addison said as she came into the living room, causing Marci to look up from the TV she was watching.
‘Hey,’ she said as Addison kicked her shoes off and dropped her bag to the floor, ‘how was work?’
‘Fine,’ Addison said dropping onto the couch with an ‘oomph’ before she said, ‘exhausting.’
‘Bad shift?’ Marci asked with a frown, watching Addison as she lay there her eyes closed and her arm across her face to aid blocking the light out.
‘Nah, it was fine just tiring you know?’ Addison yawned looking at Marci before she added, ‘And I can't remember the last time I ate.’
‘Well luckily I made dinner,’ Marci said chuckling as Addison immediately sat up, a smile on her exhausted face.
As the pair padded through to the kitchen and Marci went to retrieve dinner Addison went to the refrigerator to grab a drink, stretching as she tried to remove the aches from her weary bones, before she plopped herself down in a kitchen chair and watched Marci flit about the kitchen to fix her something to eat.
‘How was Jess?’ Addison asked as Marci pulled a plate wrapped in foil out of the oven and placed it on the side before she fished about in the drawers for cutlery.
‘Good as gold as always,’ Marci said as she discarded the foil and brought it to where Addison was sitting.
‘Good,’ she said, ‘thanks by the way.’
‘No problem,’ Marci smiled as Addison started to tuck in, ‘she did try waiting up for you though.’
‘Again?' Addison sighed, ‘I told her not to.’
‘I know but you know what she’s like,’ Marci sighed.
‘Well, it’s just till the end of the month. Then I can go back to normal shifts,’ Addison said taking a sip of her diet coke.
‘I’ve told you I can help with money,’ Marci said a frown on her pretty face.
‘Mar,’ Addison sighed.
‘I told you I would,’ Marci said making Addison close her eyes just for a moment. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful it was just that they were never going to get used to it just being the two of them if Marci was chipping in. Not to mention she already helped them out more than Addison could ever ask for hence why she was spending the night babysitting her daughter.
‘I know but you have your own place now. It’s not the same as before with you coming back every couple of months,’ Addison said.
‘I know but I can help,’ Marci said guiltily. It wasn’t that she had tons of money but it had been her decision to finally get her own place. Nearing thirty and still flitting between boyfriends and her best friend's house was getting old. And it wasn’t that the pair couldn’t afford to get their own separate places it was just that an extra wage did go a lot further when it came to raising a child.
‘We’re fine,’ Addison said firmly, ‘this is just a little extra work to cover birthdays and summer stuff. We’re not in dire straights.’
‘Promise?’ Marci said.
‘Promise,’ Addison said, ‘now can I eat my dinner?’
‘Sure,’ Marci said, her nervous expression being replaced by a smile.
It didn’t last long though. As Addison wolfed down half her mac and cheese before finally stopping to take a drink she found Marci watching her closely, her brow furrowed though it smoothed out as Addison’s eyes narrowed and she said, ‘what?’
‘Nothing,’ Marci said airly.
‘No come on,’ Addison said suspiciously, ‘I know you. There’s something else.’
‘There's nothing,’ Marci said rolling her eyes as she fiddled with the tablecloth’s edge before adding, ‘so, you’ve been busy at work huh?’
‘Yeah,’ Addison said unable to buy into the casualness of which her friend was speaking. There was something going on, she knew it.
‘So you’ve probably haven’t seen they’re opening a new hotel,’ Marci said.
‘The International? Yeah, I heard about it, why?’ Addison asked wondering why on earth some newly erected eyesore on the strip would be newsworthy dinner conversation given that it had been in construction for ages.
‘Well it’s gonna have a big showroom,’ Marci said finally looking at her.
‘And what you wanna go watch something? Or stay a night in the city when we live twenty minutes away?’ Addison asked unable to catch the thread of the conversation.
‘No,’ Marci said indignantly.
‘So?’
‘Well,’ Marci said awkwardly, ‘I was reading today that to open it they’re gonna need a show. Something to draw people in…a big name.’
It was like lightning striking, a face flashing into her mind as all the dots connected; the probing, the uncertainty of which Marci spoke, making sure she was fed and watered before she even broached it. Elvis.
‘Oh,’ was all Addison could say.
‘Yeah,’ Marci said sadly watching her friend’s face for the inevitable emotion that was going to come but it didn’t. Nothing did instead she forced a smile and shrugged before saying, ‘well good for him.’
‘Addie,’ Marci gasped.
‘What?’
‘Come on! He’s going to be here! In Vegas!’ she said incredulously.
‘So? Why do you wanna go see the show?’ Addison said, her snark in full force as she felt that familiar wave of anger, sadness and pity run through her body. Marci’s face fell into a scowl, evidently not appreciating her lack of seriousness about the subject.
‘No of course not it’s just…I mean what if you guys bump into each other,’ she asked worriedly.
‘I doubt we run in the same circles,’ Addison replied sarcastically making Marci’s scowl deepen. Addison sighed, ‘Mar look whether he’s ten miles away or a thousand it doesn’t change anything. I made my decision a long time ago and just because he’s on my doorstep now doesn’t make it any different.’
‘But it’s been ten years. Maybe it’s different now I mean maybe he could find out about Jess-’
‘Oh yeah I’m sure me and Jess will fit in right beside his new wife and kid,’ Addison said coolly.
‘You don’t know Addie,’ Marci said quietly.
‘No I don’t because I don’t want to know. Not now. Not ever,’ she replied hoping the seriousness of her tone would be enough to make her friend drop it.
She wanted her to drop it because there was no angle she hadn’t looked at it from. She tried to convince herself he’d see that once he realised she was gone he’d come looking for her, unable to believe she wouldn’t love him. She’d been broken over it, crying herself to sleep as she thought about the unfairness of it all for her and for Jess. She’d thought of how she could tell him; if she could just get a letter to him, only him, or if she could make it Memphis past his entourage, past the Colonel she could explain. She’d been angry as she’d watched him move on, something she couldn’t seem to do longer than a couple of months because letting Jess get attached to anyone felt wrong, like a betrayal. She’d thought about it every which way because she’d had to until she'd finally accepted it. This was it for her. Her work. Her friends. Her daughter. That was it. She couldn’t make herself hope for more because to do that would mean to hope. And hope was worse than giving up. Hope meant putting the fragments of her heart fully back together to potentially have them smashed back to smithereens only smaller this time, less easy to rebuild.
She could see Marci wanted to protest, that she had more to say, but Addison was too tired to do so. And so when she spoke she spoke with as much authority as she could give it, ‘Look, if Jess wants to meet him one day then fine. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there, though preferably it’ll be when I’m dead and buried, if not at the very least when she’s eighteen so it can be nothing to do with me.’
‘You don’t mean that,’ Marci said sadly.
‘Don’t I?’ Addison scoffed, ‘listen I’ve done all the thinking I’m ever going to do about it. I’ve been sad, I’ve been angry, I’ve tried to convince myself it’ll all work out but I’m done Mar. I’ve accepted this is my life and I’m fine with that. I have Jess. I have you. I don’t want anything else and I definitely don’t want anything that might ruin what I have got now. Got it?’
‘You’re sure?’ Marci said.
‘If it were meant to be now it would’ve been meant to be then,’ Addison said.
‘Maybe one day,’ Marci said hopefully.
‘I can't live on maybes Mar and maybes are no good when you’ve got a kid. I just can’t put my faith in something that’s not a certainty. I just can't.’
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