#elvis home recordings

[hooked-on-elvis]

I am currently listening to "ELVIS: THE HOME RECORDINGS" (a collection of Elvis Presley's home recordings from the 1950s and 1960s) and I find incredible hearing him singing songs in that unprompted way, just having fun with friends and family, and then listen to the professional version he recorded years later.

Those are some of Elvis' personal favorites songs, folks. 🩷🥹 Here's some of them:

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"HANDS OFF" (or "KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OF IT") Home recording: Fall 1960, at Monovale Drive, Hollywood (one of Elvis' homes). Studio recording: Elvis recorded this song again during a jam session at Nashville RCA's studio B in June 5th, 1970. The song was recorded in a version in conjunction with "Got My Mojo Working". The track was first release on the LP "Love Letters From Elvis" (1971).

2. "INDESCRIBABLY BLUE" Home recording: February 1966 at Rocca Place, Hollywood (another of Elvis' homes). Studio recording: Elvis recorded this song professionally, not long after, in June 10, 1966. It was first released by RCA Records as a single on January 10, 1967, backed with "Fools Fall in Love". It was releases in a LP as part of the "Elvis' Gold Records Volume 4" (January, 1968).

3. "AFTER LOVING YOU" Home recording: Recorded around 1966. Can you listen to Elvis' voice here being pretty much the same in the 1969 version? His voice by 1966 was already so improved. It's weird how they kept Elvis from singing what he really wanted to sing in order to keep the soundtrack albums going on. I'm not complaining, per say, because I don't actually hate the soundtrack songs of his movies, but we know Elvis himself was pretty beaten having to record what he called "silly songs" over the ones he truly loved, like this one (as we can see by the way he sings the song wholeheartedly).

Studio recording: During the American Sound Studio's legendary recording session under Chips Moman production, Elvis recorded this song professionally in 18th Feb, 1969, in Memphis, Tennessee.

My personal favorite. ♥ My absolute favorite Elvis album is "From Elvis In Memphis", no doubt. Hearing the home recording version of "After Loving You" is just priceless to me.

4. "WHAT NOW MY LOVE"

Home recording: Recorded sometime around 1966 too. Again, Elvis literally was kept from singing many great songs for a long time because of his Hollywood movie contracts, not to speak about the RCA deals causing the songwriters disputes over rights and proper payment. Long story short, the songwriters did not want to give up 25% of the rights to the compositions to Hill and Range Publishings and the other Presley publishing companies that published his recording materials. So Elvis ended up with some (crappy) less powerful songs to record for many, many years. Some of the songs he truly wanted to record thanks Heaven were brought to day light. Elvis had a great taste in music. (I just wonder how many more amazing songs recorded by his powerful voice we would have today if it wasn't for the tricky record deals he was under.)

Live version:  On January 14, 1973, Elvis Presley performed the song before a live audience of 1 billion people, as part of his satellite show, "Aloha from Hawaii", which was beamed to 43 countries via INTELSAT. Elvis' live rendition of the song is just breathtaking. You listen and see him performing it live and you just stop breathing. The song was first released on the live album "Aloha from Hawaii via Satellite" (February, 1973).

#elvis presley #ELVIS MUSIC #elvis the king #The King of Rock and Roll #elvis forever #long live the king #50's music #60's music #70's music #elvis home recordings #elvis studio recordings #Youtube

[woozingie]

suspicious minds

member: woozi word count: 495 genre: fluff content warning: crying at a movie and being lovingly teased about it?  note: that 1am inspiration strikes again, business as usual! obviously inspired by my afternoon seeing elvis (i found it pretty bad but austin butler was incredible) elvis and the beatles were the only gods in my house growing up, hence the emotional reverence found here!

jihoon’s head turns to you suddenly, features translating his worry. it’s hard to tell if you’re alright in the darkness of the movie theatre, but as the scene changes and the screen lights up your face, he understands why your fingers tightened around the hand you had been holding since the romantic wedding scene about halfway through the film. 

“are you crying?” he whispers loudly, but you immediately shush him. it will have to wait until the credits roll, he thinks, so it can wait. you produce a handkerchief from your bag carefully placed on the seat to your left and dab at the tears on your cheeks, eyes still looking up at the screen. your chest starts to heave as a sob shakes you quietly. 

when the movie finally ends and the lights are turned back on, jihoon lets go of your hand and leans in closer to avoid attracting the attention of the crowd walking by you to exit the theatre. “what’s wrong?” he tries to read the look in your eyes but you’re busy folding your handkerchief like it’s the most fascinating task in the world. your boyfriend’s fingers close around your wrist and shake it lazily to get an answer out of you. you sigh then, unsure of how he’ll react to your emotional outburst. but he’s so set on finding out, you might as well give it to him straight. 

“it’s just so sad! the song in that scene was so pretty, and he died so young... if only he were still alive... his voice was so beautiful...” you look up and do your best to keep fresh new tears from falling, so you miss the incredulous look on jihoon’s face. “you’re crying because he died? forty-three years ago?” you yank your wrist out of his grasp and give him a look meant for him to understand this was not the right answer. “it’s a shame he died! we need beautiful voices singing to us now more than ever!” you snap as you collect your things hastily, as if leaving the room would put this awkward moment behind you. following you down the stairs back to the cinema entrance, you hear jihoon’s smirk as he observes, “but i’m a singer too? don’t i sing well enough?” you stop dead in your tracks then, and turn around mightily annoyed. is he for real? are you really getting this annoyed over the long gone king? “jihoon, you’re no elvis!” your voice is hushed as if the legend could hear you speak his name in a vain comparison. you stomp down the stairs, still too hung up on your tear-inducing experience to deal with your teasing boyfriend. “don’t i make you cry when i sing?!” his voice is full of laughter as it follows you down the staircase and onto the street, but he makes sure to intertwine his fingers with yours when he catches up with you and steals a kiss from your pouty lips. 

#woozi x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #woozi fluff #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon fluff #listen. elvis is untouchable to me ok #when i was a tiny kid i either looked through the guiness book of world records or stared at a box with elvis' face on it that my mum had #she stored her knitting stuff in there which doubles the emotional value since she taught me to knit #i remember being like 3 or 4 staring at elvis #a normal afternoon at home #and thinking 'surely this is the most handsome man on earth?' #my standards were there..... hence my singledom at an age where i'm increasingly worrying about reproducing as i wish lmao #and when i was a bit older i got singstar on the ps2 and my dad and i would sing suspicious minds #my dad would try to imitate elvis it was so funny #then lilo and stitch came along! another elvis memory! #then i wrote a bit about him in my first masters thesis which was about soul music #the movie really fell short for me so i'll stick to my archives and documentaries #and write this on a whim ig #ok my laptop is out of battery bye bye have a good read good night

[natethreepoint0]

Yo! That's My Jawn: The Podcast - Ep. 4.8 - Dave Hause

All new episode! Nate celebrates Philly music festivals before being joined by his guest, singer/songwriter Dave Hause. They discuss who has played more XPoNential Music Festivals and Main Street Music in stores performance, Dave or Dawes, WXPN and the Sing Us Home Festival, creating and curating his own music festival, growing up in Roxborough, Manayunk over the years, the music of his youth,…

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#Blood Harmony Records #Elvis Costello #interview #jawn #Jawntlet #Main Street Music #manayunk #music #Nate Runkel #philadelphia #philly #podcast #Sing Us Home Festival #the Mermaid #Xponential Music Festival

[bindeds]

✦﹒ ．𓈀 willy wonka x reader nsfw headcanons (+18) — thank you so much for the love on the last post, here’s another! as always, gif credits go to @thisgameissonintendo ! dialogue is at the very bottom, thank you!

mlist. requests. general wonka headcanons.

he’s into a specific kind of bondage; he likes tying you up using ribbons, usually only on the wrists but would tie other parts of you if he’s pent up.

DEFINITELY talks you through it, especially if you’re the one who’s pent up

glances at you across his shop while he’s working, and it’s the type of glance where his head is hung low as he’s talking to customers but he’s looking up to give you a knowing look, something you knew all too well; you are definitely doing it in his office later.

one time, he had a small piece of chocolate hanging between his teeth as he was jotting something down on a clipboard. You asked him innocently about what he was doing, and he said he was testing his own samples. You said you wanted to test them out as well, and went ahead and bit the other end of the chocolate. He went ROUGH on you that day, but now every time either of you have a piece of chocolate hanging from your lips, the other takes it as a sign that they’re in the mood.

he’s very hands on and LOVES biting you everywhere—your neck, shoulders, thighs, breasts, nipples, you name it

that being said, he is also very much into hickeys, too. something about biting then sucking the sore spot to soothe you … it was almost like you’re his personal chocolate; not something he made but something made for him. By the end of it you’re always covered in bruises, but he makes sure to bite you only where the sun doesn’t shine UNLESS you’ve done something to make him jealous

speaking of jealous, he’s definitely not the jealous kind EXCEPT when it comes to other performers or, even worse, the other three chocolatiers. If they were still allowed in the chocolate business, willy always pulls you along by the hand if you ever so much as look at the other chocolate shops. Oh, and going over earns you ten more hickeys on your neck.

Despite not being the jealous kind, I’d still imagine after a long day, if he knows you spent it with other people he would definitely mention it in sighs as he presses his lips on your skin.

Other times, he prefers to worship your body. To treat it like porcelain, to lay you down on his bed as such. He’s indecisive when it comes to this; he loves seeing you unscathed but tasting your skin makes him feel like you’re truly his.

if you ever do it in public (which is going to be a very rare occurrence because unlike his chocolate, he does not like sharing you with the world) he would definitely put his signature overcoat on you to cover as much of you as possible, he could care less about him being spotted but you? that was the same as letting you down, selling you off when you both vowed to be loyal to each other with pinky promises.

would put on music using a record player if you both are at home. He hums to the tune absentmindedly up until he’s on you and loving you. He loves old romantic songs specifically, and some jazz never hurt anyone. though if you don’t like it, he’s more than happy to stick with elvis presley and paul anka, and some other artists too, of course.

LOVES an abundance of contact, skin on skin, physical intimacy—the works. Because of this, he doesn’t usually opt for taking you from behind but if you ask for it, he would bend down with you, covering your back like a blanket as he whispers sweet praises into your ear, or perhaps nipping at your jaw or neck. On missionary, he can barely keep his lips from your own, too.

forehead touches!!! He loves pressing his forehead to yours, something about it is just so intimate and so meaningful to him

keeps his dress shirt on but completely unbuttoned out of habit, but he just looks so good in his slightly oversized shirt so you don’t complain

he loves what you love, and has nothing against you grabbing his hair as he eats you out. But relating to my very first point, he definitely appreciates when you let him tie your hands back so he does all the work. He likes taking his time, similar to making chocolate, eating you out has its stages and he cannot afford to rush any of them even if you are pent up or impatient.

he doesn’t like talking about your relationship with noodle. Seeing as noodle is a smart girl, he’s always afraid that she might think about these things and he likes to preserve her innocence, especially with the things they have been through. He wants her to experience what’s left of her childhood to the fullest, so even the faintest mention of you and willy being in his office sends his hands over noodle’s ears.

loves when you ruffle your hair if both of you are in an intimate position such as missionary.

He likes seeing the aftermath of just how much you do to him later on, from the crumples in his clothes to the scratch marks on his back.

definitely is a service top, as someone who grew up knowing how to please and catch the audience’s eye, he’s just so used to living for the reaction, and you’re no exception. Every moan he draws out of you is a token he keeps in his coat pocket for the difficult times.

is into begging, specifically begging you for anything. He’ll beg to bite you, beg to enter you, and sometimes he uses this to let you know it’s completely fine if you ever change your mind, but he never whines. He always keeps his composure about it.

���Oh honey, you’ll let me mark you all over, won’t you?” He asks, brown eyes heavy with the twinkles of the quiet night. “You know I can’t stand to leave you hurting. It won’t hurt for very long, just a taste.”

“What’s that now, darling?” while he’s pumping you full of his fingers

“That’s it, deep breaths,” he would say breathlessly as he sinks into you. “You can take me, can’t you princess?”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he’s picking up his pace after hearing that oh-so familiar whine you let out that told him you were close. “I’m coming too, angel.”

#wonka 2023 fanfic #timothee chalamet #willy wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka headcanons #headcanon #timothée chalamet #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka x you #.c’est la vie #.wonka bin #.wonka hcs #◟𓂅 𓄹 splash zone. #( ࿈ archived. )

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 015: Eddie, Do You Copy?

Learning about, understanding, and loving all parts of Eddie.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 5.8k words

disclaimers — fluff, grief, flight of icarus easter eggs bc of eddie’s mom, ANGST, talks of childhood abuse/negligence/foster care, implied domestic violence, homicide, cancer, mentions of suicide, mentions of underaged drinking/drug use if you squint, lil modern-nostaglia moment btwn eddie and the boys (as a treat ✨), erica and wayne cameo yayyy

author's note: eddie is so boyfriend in this chapter 🫠 happy holidays, you filthy animals ♥️

“I put the record on, wait till I hear our song. Every night I’m dancing with your ghost.”

♡

Your eyes accommodate the first beacon of light as thirst creeps its way into your system.

6:38 AM.

Quietly chucking the covers off, you find yourself hobbling over Eddie in attempts to get to the kitchen. You can only hope that it doesn’t wake him.

Eddie responds with a low grumble. Followed by some mumbling and flailing. And then you watch as he shifts around, doing his best to return to the state of comfort he was in before his sleep was interrupted.

But if he’s anything like you — which you know for a fact he is — his cranky self is most likely awake by now and just pretending to be unconscious to avoid early morning conversation.

To put it to the test, you press a soft kiss onto Eddie’s forehead. He smiles.

You smile to yourself. Called it.

When you get to the kitchen, you seek out Eddie’s Garfield mug for your reservoir of choice. And as it fills with water, the bedroom adjacent from his captures your attention.

Steve’s door is open. A huge indicator that he’s still not home.

Judging by the energy levels of everyone last night, you assume it’s because they were still out partying. And for Steve’s sake, a part of you hopes it’s also because he went home with somebody.

Once you’ve got your water, you sneak back into Eddie’s room, using the newfound, natural light to really study it.

You would’ve thought it was an extension of Steve’s room, not Eddie’s. Everything’s a posh navy blue, something Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead in if he had been anywhere else.

But the corner of his room is more like him, decorated with vinyls and a Crosley just like your sister’s. There were records of his favorite metal bands: Sabbath and Maiden. Anthrax, Metallica, and Judas Priest. And the unsuspecting like Elvis, The Doors, and Pink Floyd. Even country — both old and new, Johnny Cash and Chris Young — followed by a wide selection of Chicago blues and bluegrass.

The rest of his personality could be found on the bulletin board sitting on his desk.

Hand soap, dryer sheets, FUCKING DO PAYROLL

Eddie’s to-do list. You let out a soft chuckle.

Familiar faces canvas the board. There’s photos of Eddie, Jeff, Gareth, and Grant. A picture of him with his uncle — Young Eddie with his hair buzzed and Uncle Wayne’s a subtle gray, most likely Eddie’s doing.

There’s a photo of Steve and Eddie at a Colt’s game. Eddie and Dustin. And Eddie with Will at what looked to be a D&D convention of sorts.

But one photo catches your eye the most.

‘MOMMY & ME: LIZ + EDDIE , 1994’

His mom’s name was Liz. You graze the picture of Liz holding a baby Eddie in her arms. On her face was a dimpled smile like no other, the love-filled look in her eyes having been shielded by her thick wavy brown hair.

But you didn’t need to see her eyes to know how much she loved Eddie. You see it in how she’s holding him, gently pressed to her chest while she supports his neck, his beady brown eyes staring at her with the same amount of adoration.

It all reminds you of Mom. You’re almost certain there’s a picture of you two like that, but it’s back home with Billy… evidently a forbidden turf to trek.

At least there’s still the memory of it. But like the bond with your twin, it’s also growing to be distant.

Your eyes and tears trickle down to another picture of her on Eddie’s bulletin board.

It’s of Toddler Eddie now with Liz in what looks like a kitchen. He’s standing on her feet and, judging by the motion of the picture, is dancing along to a song that was probably playing on the stereo. Behind the two of them sat piles and piles of CDs, all of which were all of the blues.

“She was pretty, wasn’t she?”

Eddie is behind you now. He smiles at you with a dreamy gaze, beaming at the mere fact that the two women who made him happiest could be visually processed in the same frame.

You gulp.

“Really, really pretty,” you insist. “You have her smile. A-and her hair.”

"Yeah, I look a lot like her," Eddie chuckles with a hint of pride. He grazes the photos of her in the same way you did. "She’s influenced me a lot growing up. Bet that's why my sperm donor can't stand me."

You carefully dissect his choice of words. There’s a lot of resent for Alan Munson on Eddie’s part. You don’t blame him, if what Billy discovered had been true. It’s the same reason you and him resent Dad.

Eddie fixates on the expression on your face. He knows why this is so moving for you.

“It never gets easier, does it?” he questions, hinting at your own ongoing struggle with grief.

You cross your arms and shake your head. Softly you mutter, “Never.”

You feel stupid. Eddie’s doing his best to navigate his own baggage, yet you still found a way to make it about yourself.

He pulls you close and wraps his arms tenderly around your waist. Eddie doesn’t have to say it to reassure you that your burdens are safe in his presence. You can just feel it. Two traumatized individuals understand each other in a way others can’t.

“Time just keeps going,” you speak again. “Everyone moves on and you’re kinda just…stuck in place.”

“World just keeps going. Grief doesn’t care about your plans when it blindsides you, taking you for everything you’ve got.”

You swallow hard as Eddie’s words sink into you.

Tragedy just feels so non-consensual. No one ever asks for it to happen.

You and Billy can’t even go surfing without thinking about Mom. Whenever you try you both always end up fighting. That’s why Max tends to go alone or with her own friends.

“I have to stay away from a whole genre of music because I’ll burst into tears,” you scoff in agony. “Billy and I can’t even listen to Iration without thinking of our mom.”

“Can’t listen to Muddy Waters without thinking of mine.”

You and Eddie sway in place to the tandem of your beating hearts. It’s a breath of fresh air knowing you have each other now.

After a while, he ruffles your hair and spins you around so that you can face him.

"But enough about that," Eddie attempts a smile. He rubs your shoulders and you hum in awe. "This is supposed to be a happy time."

"Happiness and despair can coexist," you sniff. “Duality, remember?”

Eddie smiles. It's a you're right kind of smile. "I was yesterday years old when I learned that."

He kisses your forehead and soon you two are in the shower, rinsing up and mentally preparing for the long day of errands ahead.

You’re the first to hop out and get dressed, eager to devour a bowl of oatmeal before tackling the day.

"Hey… babe?" Eddie calls out to you from his closet.

The pet name almost sounds too natural rolling off his tongue. But then again he is the owner of a strip club, and was married for a few years before meeting you.

“Yeah?” you call back, heart skipping a beat.

“Can you make me a coffee while you’re out there?” he requests. “The usual black drip coffee with some hazelnut? Please and thank you.”

“Of course, hun.”

You can get used to this.

So you make your way back out into the living room and kitchen shortly after, practically skipping. But the person you see in the kitchen — with tired eyes and a bowl of his own oatmeal in hand — stops you in your tracks.

"Morning, Hargrove," Steve responds.

You're so dumb. You've gotta start realizing that when you sleep with one of them, the other may pop in at any minute. After all, it’s their townhouse.

As frozen in place as you are, you do your best to shoot Steve a shy little wave. Again, the look on his face indecipherable.

"Morning..." you pathetically respond.

Steve eventually grants you a wave back. He pokes around at his oatmeal while you make your way over to the fridge, your cheeks flushing a timid red as you do so.

You move in a way that seems like you were way too conscious of your actions. Even Steve notices. But he keeps trying to eat, his spoon clinking against his bowl as he intermittently clears his throat, all an attempt to fill the void of silence.

"Did you have a fun night?" you question. "You know... bar-hopping."

"Yeah, I did," he replies. "Argyle had to get cut off cuz he was being real extra with it."

"Oh geez."

"I know."

“How was Max?”

“She was fine,” Steve shrugs. “The bars use the same 21+ wristbands Hellfire does so we were able to sneak her in no problem. Chrissy made sure she got home safe. The girls were just stoked they finally got to have a carefree night.”

“That’s so good,” you breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m so happy for them.”

“Yeah,” he nods in agreement. “I’m really happy for them too. Seems like they needed it.”

Finally, your friend decides to address the elephant in the room.

"We uhh..." he begins. "We should probably end what we have going on here. Just so no one gets hurt."

“I think that’s a smart idea too,” you mumble as you nod.

You make your way over to Steve, stunned that he doesn’t shy away from you when you invade his personal space. Instead he leans into you, opening up his lap so you can maneuver between his legs.

You know, like how friends usually talk.

“It was fun while it lasted…”

"I know. I just feel so bad..." you choke, rubbing his arm softly. "I’ve wasted your time."

"I wouldn't say that," Steve refuses, shaking his head rapidly. He touches you back, running his hand across your arm. "I've thoroughly enjoyed your company."

Eventually his hand intertwines with yours.

There’s a heaviness in the room and something tells you that Eddie is near, looming at the foot of his room so that your business with Steve remains uninterrupted. He knows there’s some dust that still needs to settle. And he will linger until it does.

"You helped me get out of a really dark place," Steve admits. "And Eds too, I'm sure."

You look back towards Eddie's room.

“It wasn’t my intention to fall for him,” you say. “It just…happened. The connection, i-it’s...”

“I know…” Steve soothes you. “Been pickin’ up on that for a while. If you think I’m blaming you, I’m not.”

Steve urges you to meet his gaze again. And when a teardrop falls from your eye, he uses his thumb to wipe it away. Tells you to stop, before he too starts crying.

"This is... a huge step for him," Steve manages a grin. “I don’t think you realize, Shy Girl.”

"Yeah, I bet," you nod. "After Isabelle..."

"Yeah, Isabelle and everything else that dude's got going on," he confirms. "This is really good for Eddie. I can tell. It’s why I think it’s best that we part ways.”

Steve eventually does cry too, but it’s a rather suppressed one. The both of you take turns wiping each other’s tears, embracing the presence of each other for just a short while longer before needing to distance yourselves indefinitely.

You’re never going to forget Steve Harrington. His charm. His integrity. His everlasting devotion to the ones he loves most, and how he’d — time and time again — go to the ends of the earth for them. A noble soul in the highest regard. A true king.

“Thank you for being so kind,” you say to him. “You made my first week in Indiana a lot less intimidating. I hope you’ll still be around.”

“Of course I’ll still be around,” Steve chuckles. “Look at our friend group. Look at where I live.”

You share a laugh with him again.

“Ain’t no getting rid of me that easy, Hargrove.”

“I can sure try though, right?”

“Now why would you do that?” he banters sarcastically, chuckling into you.

He kisses your cheek softly one last time. Finally, Eddie’s door swings open, prompting you and Steve to asunder from one another.

“RISE AND FUCKING SHINE!” Eddie announces his entrance. “Both my soul and thine.”

You get out of Eddie’s way so he can go over and hug Steve good morning. Eddie then breaks the hug with a peck on the cheek and rough slap to Steve’s ass. Steve winces but you can tell he enjoys it.

“Mwah!” Eddie cheers. “Love you, babyboy. What you got going on today?”

“Oh, just gonna work on the online biz for a bit,” Steve mumbles as he ushers his hands through some paper. “Then ’m gonna start recruiting peeps for my other new job.”

“I forgot you dropship now,” Eddie says. “How’s that going?”

“Really fucking good,” Steve smiles. “I shouldn’t count on it too much though. It’s why I also have Newby’s. Speaking of which…”

Steve hands you a flyer. You take it from his hands.

NEWBY’S COFFEE ROASTERS: Even Superheroes Need Coffee!

Steve explains to you that a new coffee shop is taking over Family Video’s old suite. The owner grows his own coffee beans and all syrups are organically made from Hawkins locals. And since they’re a Mom and Pop shop, they were really going to need some help.

“If Maxine is still looking for a job, she’s more than welcome to apply,” Steve says. “We’re gonna need baristas. And we’ll be coworkers so whenever she’s on, I can drive her to work.”

“That sounds like an awesome gig for her!” Eddie pitches in. “Free coffee for employees too, I’m guessing.”

Steve nods at Eddie’s remark.

“That’d be amazing,” you blush. “Thank you, Stevie.”

“Thank you, Stevie,” Eddie parrots you. You elbow him playfully.

“Yeah, anything for you guys. I’ll put in a good word for her to Bob. He’s the owner. Great guy.”

“And what about this owner, huh?” Eddie chimes in. “Hope you can pull some strings and snag me some of those magic beans as well. I’m gonna need it. I also don’t mind paying full price cuz it’s goin’ to Newbs.”

“T’yeah with your job? You can have all the beans you want.”

“Mm, speaking of which,” Eddie scoffs as he stares at the time on his Apple Watch. “It’s almost time.”

Steve imitates Eddie’s gesture. Your eyes dart between the two of them, confused about the context of the whole ordeal.

“What are you guys-” you begin.

“Ah, buh-buh!” Steve stops you. “Wait for it…”

You look at the time on your phone to feel some sort of involvement as well.

7:59 —> 8:00

Eddie’s phone rings.

"An everyday thing," Steve tsks, shaking his head, resuming his breakfast as he does so.

"First problem of the day," Eddie looks at you. "It’s always something with Hellfire. From the moment the day begins...Yello?"

It’s Lucas. Sinclair never really calls unless it’s a dire situation, so you listen closely, doing your best to make out what he’s saying on the other line.

"I can't come in tonight,” is what it sounds like.

"Uh, why the fuck not?" your man demands. He places a sassy hand on his hip. "We need you for front of the house."

"Erica's sick and my car is in the shop."

"I'll pay for your Uber, you're coming in."

"I think it's covid. I don't wanna spread it to anyone if l've been exposed."

"It's not fucking covid, you guys have been jabbed more times than I can count for school."

The two continue to bicker back and forth like they’re brothers. Steve excuses himself from the narrative, going over to the kitchen sink to wash the dishes.

You watch Eddie as he lights up a pre-roll, taking a frustrated drag from it while he listens to Lucas’s, probably bullshit, excuse.

Eventually there’s a scuffle on the other line. Something something, “GIMME THE DAMN PHONE” followed by a “NO” followed by a “PHONE. NOW”. Eddie’s drags from his blunt grow increasingly slower.

Then another person speaks. The voice belongs to a girl. She sounds slightly younger than Lucas. And she sounds sick. And angry.

"Listen here, Ed-NERD Alan Munson," the girl hisses sassily. " I KNOW I did not just hear you tell my brother that he is coming in even when HE TOLD YOU why he can't. It's giving desperate. It's giving exploitation of your employees. If you want my brother to come in for a half shift at your stupid gentlemen's club then you best pull up to our residence, YOURSELF, with them spicy chicken wings level Creeping. Death. My tongue? It needs to be on FIRE. My eyes? They need to be burning from the temperature and sauce. My sinuses? BOYYY, you better be-LIEVE they oughta be SO CLEAR, I could cough up a loogie, SPIT IT OUT THE WINDOW, and have it smack you RIGHT UPSIDE THE HEAD SO HARD you won’t even THINK about forcing my brother to do something he isn’t comfortable doing again. Keep trying me, motherfucker. THE FUCK WRONG WITCHU."

Steve is flabbergasted. Eddie's mouth is wide open. You would’ve thought Lucas’s sister was on speakerphone but she wasn’t.

You're scared of Erica Sinclair. And so is Eddie, the way his eyes widen at her spiel. If Lucas's sister ever got into a heated argument with Billy, Billy would go home crying.

“And some sweet potato fries," she adds softly. "Please. Do we have a deal?"

"At your service," Eddie deals her a salute through the phone, even though she can't see it. "Anything Applejack wants, she gets. I'll be over after my Meijer run."

"As you should, sir."

Eddie turns to you after he hangs up the phone. "Don't ever own a business."

——————— 🛒—————

“WE GROW UP AND MOVE AWAY... The seasons pass, but the monsters stay.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Hellfire is Eddie’s baby. The man lives and breathes that strip club.

As much as you’ve already harbored that suspicion, you didn’t realize his work-life balance was practically non-existent. Running errands. Frequent call-outs. Always having to prepare for the unexpected. But that’s the price one pays for owning a business. It also only seems to get harder and harder when you’re a handsome business man like Eddie, someone with the drawing power like that of a 13,000 gauss magnet.

“Mike to Munson, do you copy?”

You and Eddie have hit the road now, ready to start your errands run before your shift begins. As Eddie drives, he has you hold his phone up for him while he speaks to the boys in their group FaceTime call.

“Copy,” Eddie responds. “Thank you for covering ground, dear Paladin. It is because of you we are no longer… short staffed.”

God, they’re such dorks. You’d cringe if Eddie didn’t have the sex appeal of a Roman god.

“It’s the least I can do,” Mike insists. “Taking inventory as we speak. We need more ground chili and pop cans. Cola and Fanta, please. When you go to Meijer.”

“Done deal,” Eds nods. “Who’s doing side quests?”

“Me!” Will chimes in. “Doing silverware, stainless steel, and just helping Jonathan open up the bar.”

“Thank you, Byers-squared.”

“And I’ll sweep and do windows,” Dustin adds. “We’ll figure out the front house situation as it unfolds. Gonna be a little late. Getting gas.”

Eddie places a firm palm over your hand. He smiles at you when you look over.

“Running errands with Shy Girl, we’ll see you soon.”

“Pulling in now. Over.”

“Us too. Over.”

“Over and out, boys.”

————- 🚐———-

After your Meijer run, you and Eddie stop by CVS for Wayne’s medications and the ‘morning after’ pill. And shortly after that, you two haul ass to the other side of town to scoop up Nina.

Eddie gives the young dancer a ride to work almost every day. He also smokes her out before the shift, evident by her waltzing in stoned out of her mind all the time. It brings you peace knowing the whole story now, and that there truly is nothing more to it than that.

“Your boyfriend really needs a new car,” Eddie huffs to Nina as she climbs into the backseat. “Been telling him that shit’s on it’s last good tire.”

Figuratively and literally. The 90s Buick that you caught sight of shortly before Nina shuffled in can only be described as a lost cause. Nina knows it too, the way she scowls at the thing.

She tsks as she clicks her seatbelt in place.

“Duh, Eds. What do you think I’m saving up for?”

Eddie holds up an eighth.

“I can think of a few things,” he chuckles. “I take it you’re a fan of all things eco mode.”

“Hey, it’s 2022, of course we’re going green.”

Eddie grins. “I like how you think, sweetheart.”

Nina looks over to see who’s in the front seat. Her eyes glimmer when she realizes it’s you.

“Oh, hey Shy Girl!” she cheers.

You smile at her contently. Securely.

“Hey, Neens.”

Eddie starts up his van once again.

“Alright everyone,” he says as he shifts gears. “Hold onto something. We’re on a tight schedule so expect some Eddie Stops.”

“Not this again,” Nina mutters.

“Oh boy…” you add.

SKRRRT!

———— 🏠 ————

After dropping both Nina and the groceries off at Hellfire, you and Eddie set out to Forest Hills Trailer Park to visit his infamous Uncle Wayne.

“Wayne’s the man,” Eddie boasts as he drives on. “Taught me how to fish. Somehow taught me how to drive. Automatic and stick.”

He laughs at that one.

“Even took me out of the foster care system when I was 16. I lived in his old room for years while he took the pull-out couch in the living room.”

“Foster care?” you echo as he nods. “He was tired of you jumping from home to home?”

“Nah, I just kept running away,” Eddie cackles. “If a kid was ever in the police station for something, nine times out of 10 it was probably me. I was stressing way too many people out, Uncs probably felt bad for them.”

“But he also loves you, I bet,” you grin. “You’re his nephew, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles too. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

Eddie pulls into an empty dirt road just yards from the estate. You two climb out of the van together, slamming the doors in unison.

Eddie leads you up the stairs by the hand, then uses his other one to wave at old neighbors close by.

“Hey y’all! How ya doin’?” he exclaims. He lowers his voice when he speaks to you. “Those are the Johnsons. Their sons were frequent customers of mine in high school.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Eddie waves to another pair of neighbors.

“And those are the Jacobsons. I bought their sons alcohol their senior year for homecoming. Buncha lightweights though. Wouldn’t recommend.”

“Well aren’t you a hero,” you jest.

“Hey, someone’s gotta pay the bills,” Eddie shrugs, half-jokingly. “You would think 40 years at The Plant gave you a decent insurance plan but that wasn’t the case. Had to help Wayne out for a fat minute. Still do every now and then.”

Eddie shifts closer to the door and gives it a couple knocks. He leans his head towards the doorframe, placing his lips just inches away from the chipped, painted wood.

“Wayne Munson,” Eddie bellows in his playful, deep voice. “It’s your friendly neighborhood pharmacist here. I’ve come with your percs, your piss pill, and your Motrin.”

Percocet and Motrin.

Two very strong pain killers. Hearing those names send chills down your spine. Those are the same meds Mom overdosed on when Billy found her.

But given Wayne’s circumstances, it’s not too much of a concern. According to what Eddie has told you, his uncle had just retired and is very frail. Heavy machinery and long hours can do that to someone. Just constant, chronic pain.

The door swings open and you hear Eddie greet Wayne like a grateful man would greet his dad. “Hey, Old Man! How are you?”

“Hello, there my boy. Agh, watch it. ‘s hurtin’ again.”

It didn't seem like anyone was at the door when you look over. But that was because you were looking about two feet too high.

Your eyes travel to the level at which Eddie bends down and there you see Uncle Wayne, having wheeled himself to the door to greet Eddie with a warm hug.

Oh this goes deeper than you thought.

A nose cannula. Yellow grippy socks. The wheelchair that housed his thin, fragile body. The navy blue Pacers beanie that concealed the fact that the man had very little hair.

Wayne’s face was extremely chiseled in, deeming him malnourished and underweight. The bags under his eyes that drooped heavily against his sockets took up a good portion of his face — nearly half.

You look at the place behind him. His trailer had lots of rails installed, Ensure protein shakes for adequate nutrition, and the pull out couch was set up to look like a bedroom, with a collapsible dresser right beside it that was nearly lost in a sea of orange medicine bottles.

The realization nearly knocks the wind out of you.

Wayne is sick. He almost looks terminal.

It feels like the ground had opened up and swallowed you whole. Your knees feel wobbly like gelatin, but Eddie is too busy reuniting with his father figure to notice. When he turns back around, he pulls you into him, with the biggest smile on his face.

“There’s uh, someone I want you to meet,” Eddie says to Wayne, his cheeks now a deep shade of pink. “This is Shy Girl.”

“Shy Girl,” Wayne smiles the same bright smile that Eddie has. “So you’re the THEE Shy Girl that my Eddie’s been rambling to me about. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sweetheart.”

You meet Wayne where he’s at, shaking his cold hand at eye level and giving him the warmest smile you can.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Mr. Munson.”

“Mr. Munson,” Wayne smirks cheekily. There’s a hint of who he used to be when he does that. He was most likely a firecracker just like Eddie, evident by how the two start poking at each other in a teasing manner. “Didn’t realize we were at a business meeting. In that case, we shall not waste any time. You and Eddie can come on in now, Miss Hargrove.”

Butterflies form in your stomach. You never told Wayne your last name.

And soon you’re in Wayne’s trailer, Eddie’s old home before he grew his wings and left the nest. A bittersweet energy floods the room. It only becomes more prominent when you see Eddie and Wayne holding hands as they make their way inside.

“Welcome to my office,” Wayne proceeds, carrying on with the banter. “I’ve got some tea in the cupboards, as well as some stale saltines because this one over here thinks I should watch my sodium intake. You’re more than welcome to help yourself.”

“Thank you so much,” is all you’re able to say.

“No worries, doll.”

Wayne darts his gaze back over to Eddie. “Anywho. Now that the formalities are over… son, I need to take a shit.”

The same dry humor too. You giggle and glance over at Eddie while he grimaces at Wayne in annoyance. But, since it’s not his first rodeo, he obliges, unlocking Wayne’s wheelchair to wheel him over to the commode that was concealed behind a DIY curtain.

“Did you do your exercises today?” you hear Eddie ask him.

"I tried. Got tired ‘bout halfway through.”

“What are your oxygen levels looking like?”

“Satting 88 percent without my oxygen. 93 percent on three liters.”

“That’s what we like to see. Good job, baby. I’m proud of you.”

You stand off to the side, giving Wayne as much privacy and dignity you can throughout this very intimate ordeal.

While Eddie is away with him, you keep yourself distracted with Wayne’s mug collection, as well as the array of trucker hats that decorated one of the four walls. You take a look at what’s on the TV: The Price is Right is just about to go on a commercial break. And on the coffee table rested an assortment of dated magazines, all going back to as early as 2008. Ah yes, recession core.

Within a few short moments, Eddie comes back out. You study him as he makes his way to the kitchen to wash his hands, making faces at the friendly neighborhood cats who liked to make themselves at home on the porch.

“Anyways!” Eddie exclaims. “I’m gonna start making Erica’s wings cuz we got everything here.”

He starts back over to you.

“But before I do, want me to show you my old room? It’s like a huge time capsule. Wayne hasn’t touched it since I left.”

You can barely meet his eyes. Eddie is acting way too normal about this. Or maybe you’re too dramatic.

He sees you frowning, thinking.

“…You okay?” he attempts with you.

"Eds... I didn't know," you whisper softly.

But Eddie smiles a bit. "That's okay. I initially didn't want you to know."

"How bad is it?"

"Stage 3. Lung cancer."

"How long has he had it?"

"Siiiince… March of 2020?” Eddie recalls. "We initially thought it was covid because of all the pulmonary stuff..."

He gestures around his own lungs.

"So what started out as a — rather intimate — nose swab turned into a biopsy that turned into getting a team of specialists….”

He glances over at Wayne to make sure he’s still okay.

“To having uncomfortable talks with the case worker about...exploring other options... And then to me being his full-time caregiver."

"March of 2020..." you recall. "Isn't that the same time you and Isabelle got divorced?"

"We were finalizing it..." Eddie corrects you. “But that’s neither here or there.”

“And Hellfire?”

“We were struggling for a bit not gonna lie,” Eddie chuckles. “It was during the start of covid and no one wanted to leave the house. Even when the babes were smoking hot.”

Holding up a palm, you stop him from explaining any further.

“So let me get this straight,” you state. “Your piece of shit dad UNALIVED your mom in cold blood when you were a kid, your father figure has cancer. You somehow manage to care for him full-time all while basically living at Hellfire, your business that your ex wife tried to SABOTAGE; which led to you getting arrested and released on bail up until your trial where you were then proven NOT GUILTY. But even then, your reputation still remains slightly tainted because almost everyone in Hawkins is a narrow-minded, self-righteous prick who weaponizes religion to get an upper hand? And they know you’re an easy target so that’s exactly what they did in this case, making your life and Wayne’s a living hell when it was the last thing you two needed at the time?”

“It be like that sometimes.”

Eddie flashes you a sarcastic, ‘I’m alive’ peace sign. He’s not helping.

Your heart just about shatters.

Eddie has suffered so much. But he hides it so well with his never-ending sarcasm and Munson magic.

And to think all of this — Hellfire, Wayne, and divorcing Isabelle — went down a couple years ago. He still had his childhood to sort through. If that's even plausible.

“It’s also kinda why Chrissy and I were screwing around,” Eddie adds, snapping you out of your thinking. “Apparently I was constantly depressed and she wanted to keep me distracted and all. Again, fun. But very short-lived.”

You fall into him and squeeze him tight. Eddie is almost taken aback by it. But nevertheless, he returns the favor.

"Are you alright?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you demand. "You have all of this going on and you're asking me if I'm alright?"

Oh, how lonely Eddie must’ve felt through all of this. You just want to hold him. Take away all of his pain.

It’s always the angels on earth who get sent to hell and back. Eddie deserves the world, and you’re going to go your best to give it to him.

"Are we alright?" you question him.

"Of course we're alright," Eddie insists, ruffling your hair like it’s the silliest thing you’ve ever asked him.

He pulls away from you. Rubs your back delicately as you soak in all of this new information.

“You sure you want to sign up for all of this?”

You are absolutely more than sure.

“Now why would you even ask that?” you choke. “You know my stubborn ass. I’m not backing down without a fight.”

“Yeaaah,” Eddie squints. ��I guess you are pretty stubborn.”

You fall into one another again, kissing each other like it’s the air you need to breathe. Eddie delicately cups your face with his hands, relishing in the last couple of smooches before he pulls away.

“I like stubborn though.”

“You and me, Eddie.”

“You and me, sweetheart.”

“Eddie!” Wayne calls, innocently interrupting the moment. “I’m done, boy, now come help me get up.”

“Comin’!” Eddie cranes his neck, shouting in Wayne’s general direction. He kisses you one more time on the forehead before excusing himself. “Be right back, babe.”

You and Eddie leave for Hellfire shortly after spending a little bit more time with Wayne.

The entire ride there, you let Eddie talk about his memories with his uncle… how he’s attended homecoming rallies, talent shows, graduations, and the less-than-celebratory court hearings — loving Eddie unconditionally through thick and thin. He was there for Eddie’s senior prom, snapping photos of him with the boys and his date Ronnie, who was also his best friend at the time.

Wayne was also there for Eddie’s wedding, even though he didn’t particularly like Isabelle. Again, every milestone, Wayne was there for.

You fawn over Eddie as he continues to talk, the spark in his eyes never leaving for as long as it’s about his loved ones. You can only hope he talks to Wayne and the others about you in the same way.

You can’t believe this is real life.

From here on out, it’s going to be you and Eddie. And you’re going to be by his side no matter what, because he’s proven to you that he is committed to doing the same.

From here on out, it’s going to be Shy Girl and Eddie… and nothing… NOTHING will ever change your mind or get in the way of that.

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #joe quinn #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #Spotify

[thegettingbyp2]

It's Really Happening

Summary: Elvis comes back home to you after meeting about the Comeback Special and celebrates with you

When Elvis came bursting through the front doors to Graceland, you were pretty sure that you hadn’t seen him looking so happy in a long time. He seemed lighter and the excited glint that you saw in his eyes when they found you told you that something had just gone very well in his meeting.

‘There she is,’ he said, making his way over to where you were curled up on the long sofa, reading a book. He sat down next to you, pulled the book from your hands, making sure to set it on the coffee table and gathered your face in both of his hands to kiss you.

‘You seem happy,’ you said when he pulled away from the kiss, looking at you with a big grin on his face. ‘It’s nice to see you like this again,’ you added softly, lifting your hand to cup his cheek, smiling when he turned his head to place a kiss on the inside of your palm.

‘I am happy, baby,’ he replied, speaking in a low tone even though it was just the two of you in the room. ‘I’m coming back.’

‘What do you mean?’ you asked, your brows furrowing ever so slightly, the smile still playing on your lips.

‘I’ve just been and had a meeting with these two guys who are going to let me record a TV special but it’s not going to be like this Christmas thing the Colonel wants me to do. These guys are going to let me sing my old stuff, gospel, anything I want!’ he explained, his grin growing as he spoke.

‘That sounds amazing!’ you exclaimed, finding his excitement infectious. ‘How did you get the Colonel to sign off of it?’

‘He doesn’t know, I think it might be time to call it quits with him. If these guys are going to actually let me do what I want, I need to work with them.’ You watched as Elvis lowered his eyes to where both of your hands were intertwined in his lap and you knew that he was feeling guilty for thinking of leaving the Colonel when he was the one who had been with him for pretty much his whole career.

‘It’s probably for the best, baby,’ you agreed, never having liked the Colonel in the first place.

‘It’s really happening, baby,’ Elvis said, his eyes focused on you, ‘everything’s going to get back on track and I can stop doing those stupid films. Everything’s gonna be good again.’

‘Hey, I like those films,’ you protested, causing Elvis to yank you into him until he had you straddling his lap, your hands resting on his shoulders before sliding down to his chest, making him hum happily.

‘You have to say that,’ he murmured, his eyes trained on your lips.

‘I really don’t,’ you replied before closing the gap between your lips. Elvis’ arms tightened around you as your lips parted against his, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Elvis hummed happily against your lips and he let one of his hands drop down to your thigh, squeezing softly underneath the fabric of your skirt.

‘I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you, you know,’ Elvis murmured against your lips, smiling against you.

‘Yes, you would,’ you disagreed, pulling back and running your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly which made Elvis groan quietly and buck his hips into you, making you bounce in his lap.

‘It wouldn’t be as fun, though,’ he replied cheekily before sliding his hand to the apex of your thighs, his eyes darting up to meet yours when he realised that you weren’t wearing any panties. ‘What’s this?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows at you as a smirk grew on his lips.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat as you buried your head in his neck, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent of your boyfriend. ‘Wanted you,’ you mumbled into his neck.

‘Yeah? You gonna ride me, pretty girl,’ he asked, pulling your head out of his neck to rest his forehead against yours. You nodded quickly, making Elvis grin at you before he lifted your skirt around your waist and slid a finger into you.

Elvis’ arm wrapped tightly around your waist as your hips began to buck against him while he thrusted his finger into you, his thumb coming up to rest on your clit, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your arms draped over his shoulders, holding yourself close to him and breathing him in while you tried to move against the vice-like grip he had on your waist.

His finger moved slowly, keeping you on the edge of your orgasm as he listened to your whimpers and whines, smiling to himself at the knowledge that only he could pull these sounds from your lips. Pulling his finger out of you, he quickly undid his belt and pushed his trousers down just enough to free his cock, chuckling when he felt your body jolt as the tip of his cock, hit your clit.

You pulled yourself up onto your knees, still straddling his lap as he lined his cock at your entrance before helping you slide back down until you were seated in his lap once again. ‘You take me so well, baby,’ Elvis muttered when he felt you clench around him as you tried to adjust to his size.

When you began to grow impatient you lifted yourself up a couple of inches before letting yourself slide back down, pulling moans from both of you as you started up a rhythm of bouncing up and down in his lap, Elvis’ hands resting on your waist guiding your movements.

Due to him keeping you on edge, you found yourself hovering over your orgasm in no time and your whines and the way your fingers clenched on his shoulders told him as such. ‘You close, baby?’ he asked, smirking at you, knowing that you were.

You couldn’t speak so you replied only with a broken moan and a shaky nod, feeling your legs begin to give out from where you’d been bouncing on him. Elvis was quick to wrap an arm around your waist and slide his other hand up your back, keeping you steady as he planted his feet on the floor and began to thrust up into you.

From his angle he was continuously hitting that spot inside you that had you seeing stars and the only word you could utter was Elvis’ name as you let yourself tip over the edge, trusting that Elvis had you. While you were still floating in your post-orgasm haze, you felt Elvis thrust into you three more times before stilling, his forehead resting on your shoulder as you felt him fill you up.

You both stayed in the same positions for a few moments before Elvis lifted his head up to look at you, a hazy smile on his lips. ‘You okay, Satnin?’ he asked softly, moving one of his hands to your cheek, pulling you in to drop a soft kiss on lips.

‘Of course I am,’ you replied, looking at him fondly. ‘And I’m so proud of you, you’re going to be amazing in your special.’

‘Thank you, baby,’ he said, pulling your arms back around his neck and kissing you deeply.

#elvis presley #elvis presley imagine #elvis presely smut #elvis presley x reader

[bizarre-blorbo-bracket]

FINAL for real this time: Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men vs the Bimodal Distribution from statistics

Propaganda under the cut, and it's REALLY worth it:

Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)

a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:

He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.

Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming

Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.

His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."

I could honestly give him a lil smooch

He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied

He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki

instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched

I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile

Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)

I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.

I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction

My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.

After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that

I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop

I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded

I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet

I have visions of him

One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise

honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him

I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)

He's literally an architect

I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas

i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present

my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN

I've attempted slam poetry about him

I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand

I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that

the Bimodal Distribution

First of all, it's a math concept. that is already pretty bizarre of a thing to be blorbo-ifying. Second of all, I don't know any calculus, and I don't consider myself a math person (because I hate arithmetic), but I really like this guy for some reason. I mean this graph clearly holds the secrets of the universe. don't you just want to l o o k at it . like you could solve everything in the world with that boy

#bimodal distribution #davis #juror 8 #12 angry men #final

[kurolumiis]

song — can’t help falling in love - elvis presley

song lyric — “would it be a sin if i can’t help falling in love with you?”

warnings — 16!dazai osamu x gn!reader, fluff, angst, mentions of grief and loss, brief mention of mori at the beginning, reader and dazai are both part of port mafia, self indulgent, selfship coded

note — pls dni with this post if ur above the age of 18 if ur reading for self indulgence, considering osamu & reader are 16-17 in this.

osamu knew you had lost your spark. ever since he was tasked to take care of you by mori, there was something missing from you, something that died within you. he knew before you met you were full of light and happiness, something happened that made you lose it all.

he didn’t dare ask, and you appreciated that. you weren’t friends, but you also weren’t lovers. you both didn’t know what you were. and you were too scared to figure out.

at least, until tonight.

your mother was going to arrive home late—around 10PM—and you needed someone by your side. you were going through it. tears pouring down your face as you wept at the losses you’ve experienced in your life.

hesitantly, you picked up your phone with a shaky hand and dialed osamu. “y/n, is something wrong?” he asked. you don’t usually call him like this. this was one of the few nights you didn’t stay over at each other’s places.

“osamu,” you sniffled, “i need you, please. i’m so lost and empty.” “i’m on my way,” he said immediately, hanging up. his tone showed concern and worry, which might’ve been why he showed up so fast.

you got a text that he had arrived in record time. pulling the covers off your body, you exited your room and went towards the front door. allowing osamu in, you headed to your room where you two sat on your bed.

he took in their broken state—mascara slightly staining your face along with tears and you had such an empty look in your eyes. “what happened?” he urged, but not forcefully. “i just..i miss my grandparents so so much.”

“i hardly miss my dad, i just miss what he could’ve been—what he should’ve been. and i constantly blame myself for him not loving me. but my grandparents, my grandparents were my everything—the only people who made me feel loved.”

osamu felt an ache in his chest and his throat tighten. this was the first time you opened up to him like this. already it was much to endure at such a young age but that wasn’t even the half of it.

“y/n,” he whispered, reaching to hold your hand in his. you glanced at the sudden action, too drained to do anything about it. “god, why am i so unlovable?” you chuckled weakly, wiping your tears away and smearing mascara on your light colored sweater.

“you’re not,” he breathed out, “i can promise you that you’re not.” you stared at him wide-eyed. “don’t lie to me.” “i would never,” he said sternly. he shifted closer to you, allowing you to lean against his shoulder.

you were too defeated to move away, just allowing it to happen. “i would never lie to you,” he said quietly. “ ‘samu,” you said, pulling away and staring at him. “why are you always so nice to me? it’s not like you feel human emotion, so why act like you care so much about me?”

“because…you make me feel human,” he confessed, causing you to shift away from him. “would it be a sin if i can’t help falling in love with you?”

“o—osamu,” you couldn’t help but stammer. what he just said stunned you. never in a billion years would you believe that dazai osamu out of all people would love you back.

leaning in, he kissed you. it was a little sloppy due to inexperience at first but you both got the hang of it. your hand went to run your fingers in his soft brunet locks.

“shall i stay?”

“yes, please stay—stay with me forever.”

“your wish is my command, y/n. all yours, only yours.”

#[☆] galactic works #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd dazai osamu #dazai osamu bsd #dazai bsd #dazai angst #dazai fluff #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai x gn!reader

[wanderingelvis]

i was wondering (and totally lmk if i’m like spamming you i totally don’t mean to) if you could write a fic where elvis meets an innocent reader on the set of a movie.(the reader is an extra) and elvis begins to notice the readers little space habits and suspects it. one day, after overhearing some of the other male cast members make rude remarks about the reader and elvis decides it’s time to take the reader home where he can protect them. elvis calls the reader over to his trailer and starts to make the reader drop, so that he can take the reader home and be their daddy.

i loved this request sm that it’s gonna be a two-parter!! so here’s part 1! ✨

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

Word count: 3,101

Pairings: 70s CG!Elvis and Little F!Reader

Warnings: little space lifestyle, manipulation

It was your first proper job. The one that you were proud of, that your parents would tell their friends about and it was a lot of pressure.

You were the newest person to Elvis’ little performing circle and Elvis always made a point to get to know his band and performers - how else could he put on a successful performance if not everyone was on the same page and trusting each other?

After spending time alone with you and in a group setting, Elvis had his suspicions about you. You had all the qualities of someone with a little personality - docile, submissive, wide-eyed, easily overwhelmed and eager to please. Now, Elvis knew that this meant that you could just be sweet and innocent, adjusting to the chaos of his world, but Elvis figured that even if you were just that, the little lifestyle would certainly help you cope in dealing with all of it.

The first time Elvis really suspected anything was during a break in recording, when a stuffed animal fell out of your locker in front of everyone. You furiously tried to stuff it back in, hoping that no-one had seen, but you'd caught Elvis', Jerry and Sonny's eyes as well as a few others. Your cheeks heated a violent shade a pink, as you tried to sort yourself out, getting increasingly flustered and overwhelmed. As Elvis observed you from afar, he knew you couldn't look after yourself properly, someone was going to have to do it for you.

From then on, Elvis had quietly instructed Jerry to have someone watch over you, making sure you were okay and reporting back to Elvis.

Elvis had been told by Charlie that he’d spotted you in the park by the studios colouring pretty pictures under a tree, whilst Red had informed Elvis that you stopped past every stray cat in the lot, crouching down to speak to it, feed it if you could and stroke it.

Elvis knew you were a little angel sent straight from heaven and he knew he had to have you. Elvis devised a somewhat sinister little ploy to get him in your good graces, for you to see him in a caregiver light from your first proper encounter.

The fame and power that came with Elvis meant that all he needed to do was slip the security a $100 dollar bill and in exchange, he and his small entourage were given the keys to every locker. He only really trusted Jerry with this operation as he made Jerry break into your locker and retrieve your teddy bear from your locker and bring it to Elvis. Now, Elvis knew that his actions were going to cause you distress, but he figured that in the grand scheme of things, you’d be better off for it - that’s how Elvis liked to justify many of his less-than-moral escapades.

“Thanks, Jer.” Elvis said, grabbing the plush, brown teddy bear with a pink bow tie from Jerry who remained slightly confused at Elvis’ intentions.

“Now what, EP?” Jerry asked, curiously.

“Now, I’ll give it back to her when the timing is just right.” Elvis said, leaving Jerry just as bewildered. Jerry figured it was better to just let Elvis do whatever it was that he needed to do rather than question it. There was a method to his madness, Jerry tried to tell himself.

When you realised that your beloved and treasured teddy bear, Binky, was missing, it felt like your whole world had fallen apart - or at least the secure feeling of it that your teddy bear gave you.

You tried real hard not to let the sheer panic and distress seem obvious as you stood at your open locker, quietly hyperventilating that your most trusted teddy was gone. She was a reminder of home, that helped steady you when things where getting all a bit much for little, sweet you.

You began to pace the locker room, thinking maybe she’d fallen out of your bag somewhere and been misplaced but the panic inside of your tummy was growing as your started to realise she was nowhere to be seen.

You see, Elvis was watching you from a tall window above the entry locker room, from the top of a stairwell as your distress confirmed to him that you were indeed a little, even if you didn’t know it yet.

You tried to keep your composure as you went into rehearsals with Elvis and the rest of the crew. It was safe to say you were feeling very wobbly and nervous, your lost teddy bear playing persistently on your mind. You were worried you’d dropped her in a puddle or left her on the bus on the way to the studio, what if she was scared? You could’ve sworn that you’d put Binky in your locker along with your bag, but you knew your memory wasn’t the best and now you were just so confused, right before you had to go and record.

Sheepishly, you wandered into the studio where a couple of people were already set up and chatting. You walked over to your stool and microphone, sitting down and patiently and quietly waiting for Elvis and everyone else to appear.

You were trying to remain calm, you knew you needed to be a big girl right now, not crying over some silly bear, you just couldn’t help the anxious feeling that was creeping its way into your body.

When Elvis appeared he went around the small room greeting everyone, making sure they all felt comfortable and good - and that’s when he landed on you.

“Ready to record, Y/N?” Elvis asked in a surprisingly softer tone, a little more hushed than usual.

You offered a small smile and nod, your quiet demeanour making Elvis raise his eyebrow at you, even if he knew why you were quiet.

“Everythin’ alright honey?” Elvis asked gently.

“Just tired.” You mumbled albeit remaining very polite. Elvis nodded and continued on.

The recording was going well until your microphone fell from its stand as you tried to adjust it, causing a loud bang in the isolated room. You apologised skittishly, and you thought everything was going okay until you screwed up your lines, your brain just going fuzzy.

Feeling a little worked up, you apologised again, especially to Elvis, who just sent you a nod of acknowledgment before continuing.

When the horrendous session was finally through, you quietly began to gather your bearings and sort your equipment when you realised someone much taller had approached you.

“Y/N? Elvis would like to see you right away in his trailer.” A man, who you believed to be called Jerry, told you. You gulped, realising you were likely in for a big telling off after ruining several takes with your clumsy and distracted self.

You followed Jerry compliantly, you wouldn’t ever disobey any command, you didn’t trust yourself to know better and you wouldn’t dare go against anyone. Jerry led you to Elvis trailer, doing an odd pattern of knocking, probably so that Elvis knew it was him. Jerry nodded at you and opened the door, before walking off to tend some other business.

You tentatively wandered into the trailer that you’d never been in before. You liked it a lot, velvet reds, an oddly comforting scent of cigar smoke, designs for performance outfits pinned on a wall and even a few pistols laid out on a counter.

“Y/N?” Elvis said cooly, snapping you out of your observations, you noticed you’d begun nibbling your finger whilst looking around - a childish habit that for some reason, you couldn’t get out of.

You just smiled sweetly, unsure what Elvis wanted but fearing you’d let him down during the recordings.

“Do you know why I called you here Y/N?” Elvis asked gently, relaxing on the couch as you stayed fixed in your spot, not daring to move unless told to.

The size difference between you was immense, you felt utterly dwarfed by his presence. He wasn’t even the tallest guy on the lot, despite being very tall, yet he seemed to tower over just about everyone.

You panicked a little at the question, fiddling with you fingers. “M’in trouble for messing up the recording?” You asked meekly, shy to even admit it.

“Not in trouble sweetheart,” Elvis assured gently. The pet name made your tummy do a little somersault - a sensation that was foreign to you but one that you quite liked. “Everyone’s got bad days, you didn’t seem yourself in there,” Elvis said observantly.

You were feeling wobbly. Now, you weren’t actually accustomed to the little space lifestyle so you didn’t really understand the feelings you often experienced, you couldn’t really articulate them in any way to yourself, let alone to somebody else. But you knew when you felt a little different, you felt, as you put it, wobbly. It was that feeling of anxiety, mixed with neediness and vulnerability.

You weren’t exactly sure what triggered feeling wobbly either. You knew that it could happen when you woke up in the morning, if something out of the ordinary happened in your routine, if you were scared or even if you were happy.

You blinked a little, worried about a potential onset of tears if you admitted to Elvis you’d lost Binky.

“I, um, I lost somethin’ just before the session, and, and,” You frowned a little, getting frustrated at yourself at tripping over your words. “I guess, it was just on my mind lots. M’sorry, it won’t happen again, I promise.” You said earnestly, your nerves and flustered state seeming obvious to Elvis, who patted the spot on the couch next to him.

“C’mere.” Elvis cooed and you complied without a second thought, making your way over and sitting down next to the big man. “Whatcha missin’ darlin’?” Elvis asked, despite knowing.

“My bea-“ You stopped yourself, feeling all hot and bothered at mentioning that you were so devoted to a soft toy, thinking how silly you’d look in front of Elvis. “No, it’s silly.” You mumbled.

“If it’s causin’ you this much upset little one, it ain’t silly.” Elvis soothed, the pet name doing a number on you again, giving you those strange wobbly feelings.

You’d always found Elvis attractive, even before you started working with him. However, there were little things that you really liked about him, such as when you were standing in line next to him in the canteen area, he’d always help serve your plate up, always insisting on more green vegetables to keep you healthy.

It was like he was a dominant albeit gentle and encouraging presence and you really were drawn to him, even if it was unprofessional.

“I have a teddy bear and I lost her and she’s really special to me and I don’t know where I put her a-and I thought, I thought,” You we’re starting to get worked up and panicky all over again, this time in front of someone so famous and powerful that it was making the situation worse. “I put her someplace safe but when I looked she was gone and she helps me and I don’t know what to,” You whimpered, your voice cracking as tears began to pool in your eyes.

You dared not look at Elvis, only imagining his face when he realised how weird you were. Yet all you felt was a large hand on your back, gently rubbing soothing circles which helped.

“Oh little one, I’m sorry.” Elvis cooed as you hiccuped adorably by his side, your feet not quite reaching the floor in comparison to his which were outstretched. “What does she look like hm?”

“Um, um, she, she’s got um, brown fur and she’s got a pink bow tie and it’s um, it’s real pretty,” You stammered, feeling so wobbly and small as tears began to trickle down your puffy cheeks.

“A pink bow tie?” Elvis asked with you nodding and sniffling in response. “Well, I did happen to notice a teddy bear out in the entrance to the lot earlier, a teddy bear with a pink bow tie in fact.” Elvis said and for the first time since you entered his room, you looked straight up at him.

“Really?” You sniffled, your eyes wide as you wiped them with your sleeve.

“Want to come with me and we can take a look and see if she’s yours?” Elvis said gently. You nodded yet again, feeling just a bit too wobbly to keep using words. “Okay sweet girl, let’s go.”

Elvis helped you up a little, taking your small hand in his large one as you went to another room. You realised that lots of trailers were interconnected from the inside and Elvis had so much space.

You were surprised at how sweet and kind Elvis was being. You’d expected him to find you odd, but he was being gentle and soft with you, as if he knew you were feeling a little unsure of yourself and in a wobbly state of mind.

When you turned a corner, you entered a room where lots of other men, who you realised later were Elvis’ Memphis Mafia, were all lounging on the couches, laughing and drinking. At the sudden surprise at the large crowd of loud men, you tried to hide behind Elvis a little, shuffling your body behind his whilst holding his hand a little extra tightly, which he couldn’t help but smirk at.

“Outta here, fellas.” It was just three words but they all quickly obliged Elvis’ request, leaving within a minute of the command. It made you realise the power and control Elvis held. “Sorry about them, honey.” Elvis said, offering you a smile.

He led you a draw, opening it and pulling out Binky, with you tearing up all over again at the mere sight of her.

“That’s her, that’s Binky.” You said, wiping your eyes again as you hiccuped. Relief washed over your small body as you wrapped your arms around Elvis, as far as they would go. “Thank you, thank you, you saved her!” You cried sweetly.

“Oh darlin’, look atchu, look at the state you’re in, all worked up, hm?” Elvis cooed, grabbing some tissues from a box on the table and kneeling down to gently dab it under your eyes and nose. You felt a little embarrassed at the way you were, but you couldn’t help it if you tried, you were just an overwhelmed little thing.

“M’sorry, I was just real worried and she, she’s real special t’me.” You said softly.

“I know she is, I know baby. Binky’s a pretty name, you give her that name sweet girl?” Elvis asked you, trying to make you feel better.

Elvis was secretly thrilled at how everything had turned out, you were even more vulnerable than he’d initially anticipated. He could tell that you were feeling little, you just didn’t know how to articulate it, just like a little one.

He wanted to protect you and take care of you so badly, here you were, right in front of him, a sweet, beautiful, docile, gentle, naive little thing and he just had to have you.

“Uh huh.” You said sweetly, “I had her all my life and she just makes me happy and helps me when I’m feelin’…” You trailed off a little, unsure of how to describe how you felt to Elvis.

“A bit confused hm?” Elvis said, finishing your sentence for you. You nodded, grateful that Elvis was able to think for you. “I bet she’s been helping you with your new job here?” Elvis asked.

“Jus’ get scary sometimes.” You admitted, almost whispering as Elvis continued to kneel in front of you.

Both you and Elvis realised you were feeling extremely ‘wobbly’ as you’d put it, as you started chewing on your fingertips anxiously.

“I know it can baby, you’re doin’ a real good job of it baby.” Elvis hushed.

“Really?”

“Really. How’s about I make you a lil’ promise honey?” Elvis suggested, gently taking your fingers from your mouth and holding them in his own hands. “How’s about, whenever you feel scared, or even a lil’ bit nervous or confused, you come knock on that door and you come find me? You can do whatever you like, you and Binky, you can even have a nap if you need to. How does that sound, little one?” Elvis said, pushing stray hairs behind your ear tenderly, making shivers go down your spine.

You nodded again, liking the idea very much. You had some friends in this place but you often found it all very overwhelming and stressful. Elvis had been nothing but a calm, authoritative presence and you craved more and more of him.

“Good girl.” Elvis praised.

And that’s how the next couple of months ensued. Elvis delighted in you seeking him out for comfort. At first, it was only a couple of times a week but eventually, you’d be in his dressing rooms practically every day.

Elvis had made it a safe haven for you, he’d even given you your own draw, where you’d keep Binky, knowing she was much better off there than in your locker. It also held a colouring book with lots of different paints and colouring pencils for you, which you enjoyed doing quietly between each rehearsal. Elvis has even put some of your favourite snacks in there for if you were ever feeling peckish.

It had everything and Elvis gave you everything. You felt so looked after and cared for that it was becoming difficult to not become totally dependent on Elvis. It was at the point where Elvis, or one of his men, would now pick you up from your little apartment and drop you back, even if that meant you staying far later than your finished time. But you didn’t mind, you loved the tranquil and safe space Elvis had made for you. You loved doing your pretty colours for Elvis whilst he worked on other projects throughout the day, as you eagerly awaited his return so that you could run up to him and show him all your pretty pictures.

Elvis was surprised at how quickly you seemed to slip into the routine he’d provided for you. You were everything he wanted and more - beautiful, gentle, kind, naive and little.

The only thing left to do was to officially introduce you to the little lifestyle, and Elvis couldn’t wait.

taglist: @eliseinmemphis @prompted-wordsmith @vintagegirl2005 @imaginationlast @presleyenterprise @librafilms @ccab @wolywolymoley @wwebaby657 @billhaderstan420 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @elvispresleywife @ellie-24 @hollbunn @sassanoe @gothicphantom @fallinlovewithurlove @astralheart21 @elvisbf @slimerspengler @octobers-snow @meetmeatyourworst @reddie-freddie @kxnnxy @lana-4life

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #elvis smut #elvis x y/n #elvis fluff #yandere elvis #elvis x you #70s elvis #little reader #elvis fanfic

[hooked-on-elvis]

HOW MUCH OF AN ELVIS FAN ARE YOU?

So, I was watching an interview with Bill Belew (Elvis' clothing designer) and he mentioned one time a lady took her panties off and throw it up towards the stage Elvis was performing in Vegas. This is no novelty for me, for all of us I believe, but it always gets me like: 🫨!!! That got me wondering what would you do to show your appreciation to Elvis Presley?

POLL TIME, FAM! Let's work only with harmless options. I want real answers from the fandom. Just out of fun. ♥

If Elvis was alive and you had the chance to impress him (at least hoped to), what kind of Elvis fan would you be?

THINK AS IF YOU'RE ABOUT TO DO THAT THING YOU'RE GONNA SELECT BELOW --- PLEASE, DON'T ANSWER IT UNREALISTICALLY, UNCHARACTERISTIC TO YOUR REAL PERSONALITY.

Tagging: @thetaoofzoe @jhoneybees @i-r-i-n-a-a @suspiciousmindsxo @deke-rivers-1957 @lookingforrainbows @vintagepresley @earthbaby-angelboy @karel-in-wonderland @arrolyn1114 @alienelvisobsession @xanatenshi @lilwulfpresley @eptodaytommorowforever @tupelomiss @ladelinee @elvispresleywife @heartbrake-hotel @whositmcwhatsit @eapep @hey-bossa-nova-baby @iuv0ana @bigdaddyelvislover @leapresley @mercsandmonsters @wanderingelvis @missmaywemeetagain @ahundredlifetime @lett-them-eatt-cake @atleastpleasetelephone @elvislittleone @elvisanddenise @elvisfanandbeatlesfan14 @elvisgirl71 @elvispresleyforever @elvisflowerchild @aliengoth3 @almightybigbrain @presleysweetheart @presleyenterprise

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis fandom #elvis history #50s elvis #60s elvis #70s elvis

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

"Patti Smith on the biggest misconception about her...:

"The thing that bothered me the most was when I had to return to the public eye in ’95 or ’96 when my husband died. We lived a very simple lifestyle in a more reclusive way in which he was king of our domain. I don’t drive, I didn’t have much of an income, and without him, I had to find a way of making a living. Besides working in a bookstore, the only thing I knew how to do was to make records—or to write poetry, which isn’t going to help put your kids through school. But when I started doing interviews, people kept saying “Well, you didn’t do anything in the 80s,” and I just want to get Elvis Presley’s gun out and shoot the television out of their soul. How could you say that? The conceit of people, to think that if they’re not reading about you in a newspaper or magazine, then you’re not doing anything. I’m not a celebrity, I’m a worker. I’ve always worked. I was working before people read anything about me, and the day they stopped reading about me, I was doing even more work. And the idea that if you’re a mother, you’re not doing anything—it’s the hardest job there is, being a mother or father requires great sacrifice, discipline, selflessness, and to think that we weren’t doing anything while we were raising a son or daughter is appalling. It makes me understand why some human beings question their worth if they’re not making a huge amount of money or aren’t famous, and that’s not right. My mother worked at a soda fountain. She made the food and was a waitress and she was a really hard worker and a devoted worker. And her potato salad became famous! She wouldn’t get potato salad from the deli, she would get up at five o’clock in the morning and make it herself, and people would come from Camden or Philly to this little soda fountain in South Jersey because she had famous potato salad. She was proud of that, and when she would come home at night, completely wiped out and throwing her tip money on the table and counting it, one of her great prides was that people would come from far and wide for her potato salad. People would say, “Well, what did your mother do? She was a waitress?” She served the people, and she served in the way that she knew best." from Alan Light interview in Medium Thanks Thatericalpter.com

#Patti Smith #work #stories #Alan Light #Interview #Thatericalpter.com

[jhoneybees]

Have you ever thought about when you read fanfics, you feel so comfortable in that universe you're reading?? I'm specifically talking about Elvis X reader or CG!Elvis X little!Reader.

It just feels like home, homely, and gosh to live in that universe would be a dream, yeah it's probably a fan 'thing' I don't know how to explain it.

Just UGHHH to feel Elvis engulf you in his firm, strong arms, resting your head on his chest after his long day of recording, getting kisses on the cheek from him and getting called darlin', sweetie, sweetheart, baby, babydoll, doll, love bug, my girl.

UGHHHHHH I miss him so much, I want to cry.

Just look at him...oh. my. god.

#I really don't know if I can date someone who isn't him😭 #*sniff* we can find our dream Elvis husbands girls #elvis #I know we can😩 #elvis fans #i love him #60s elvis #70s elvis #50s elvis #elvis imagine #elvis fandom #elvis presley x reader #cg!elvis x little!reader #little!elvis x cg!reader #little!elvis #little!reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #Youtube #elvis presley

[ssogoodinblue]

"I was at the Grammies sitting behind Chuck D and across from Elvis Costello when I began writing Infinity on High. As I sat there in my Sunday best (I splurged on an Italian maroon ascot) watching Stevie Wonder and Alicia Keys duet a capella, I decided in a room full of innovators that on our two previous albums, I had contributed nothing to pop music.

My saying so is in no way meant as a slight to our indie debut Take This To Your Grave, a strong if derivative pop-punk album from a young band yet uninterested in finding itself. I have slightly less positive things to say of its successor, the exponentially more successful but creatively inconsistent From Under the Cork Tree, for which we were nominated that night.

It dawned on me that, were we to win, we wouldn’t have deserved it. We rightfully lost. I rode back to my hotel, ripped the ascot out of my collar, walked across the street, ate dinner alone, and wondered to myself what would have to change in order for me to feel more comfortable with accolades.

Fear. I was afraid of being who I was musically. Pete was always honest and brave lyrically. Joe and Andy were in their playing as well. But I was timid and hid behind convention as well as re-imaginings of other people’s innovations.

I went back to my hotel and began simply writing without fear of how our audience or critics would react. When we ultimately recorded, I sang how I did at home for myself, not in the way I had learned to sing “punk rock.”

While I won’t say Infinity on High was our best Album, I will say it was a watershed for me creatively. Zero Grammy nominations though."

-Patrick Stump on writing Infinity on High (printed in the lyric book to believers never die)

#love this dude so fucking much this is some of the most relatable shit I've ever read #thats so punk of you patrick fuck yeah #patrick stump #fall out boy #fob #infinity on high #believers never die

[stoplickingmyneck]

fuck it. ronance wedding headcanons

- they def had an unofficial lil backyard “wedding” with the party back in the 90s. like, jeans and tee shirts and 15 dollar rings and eat hot dogs around a fire pit unofficial

- they kept those cheap ass rings on 24/7, and when they finally rusted and crumbled and were absolutely unwearable they put them in nancy’s ballerina trinket box, the one robin’s still fascinated by after all these years

- when they bought their first house (they move to indianapolis so nancy can work for the star btw, i feel like robin would be some sort of counselor too?), the first thing robin did was take a big ol bulletin board and nail it right to the bedroom wall. for the next twenty years it became their dream board, where they’d pin magazine clippings of suits and dresses, rings and bouquets and venues, dreaming of the day it could be their turn for real

- they have a record player in their kitchen and play cheesy slow music, elvis and frank sinatra typa stuff, while they cook or eat dinner or do work at the counter. every time a song that nancy likes comes on she begs robin to slow dance with her, and she grudgingly agrees every time. and robin fucking sucks. tripping over nothing, not knowing where to look or put her hands, getting flustered at every little move her girlfriend makes. nancy jokes that robin better not be like this during their first dance, and robin grumbles back that she’d rather hire a stunt double than suffer through this (she secretly loves it tho)

- attending weddings is so hard for them. not that they’re not happy for the couples, but because they know they might never get one of their own. when they get. home from max and lucas’ wedding, nancy breaks down in robin’s arms, sobbing that it would be so much easier if she were straight. robin holds her tight and reassures her so gently, and after she calms down they pull out the stack of wedding inspiration books they’ve acquired over the years, put on an old rom-com, settle side by side on the couch and stay up until 3 am gushing over ideas

- in 2015, the moment the announcement comes out that the supreme court legalized gay marriage, nancy speeds home from work, like, 20 miles over the speed limit and finds robin on the front steps, sobbing her eyeballs out, a big dumb grin on her face. nancy gets down on one knee right there on the driveway, not caring that it’s pouring rain and she doesn’t have a ring and and she looks like she just stepped out of the goddamn upside down. robin drops to the ground in front of her and kisses nancy harder than ever before

- nancy wants a traditional wedding. robin wants fun and unique, none of that “old-fashioned bullshit”. they butt heads over it constantly during the planning process, but slowly grow to adore each others’ styles and compromise on every detail

the invitations ^^^ they have a cute lil spring wedding right before their 50th birthdays😇

robin’s suit n nancy’s dress ^^^ nance would absolutely be the typa girl to wear karen’s old dress and robin would want the most basic, no frills suit to ever exist

their shoes ^^^ robin can barely stand on her own two feet so heels were out of the question. nancy spent weeks and weeks learning how to embroider just so she could surprise her fiance with cute flowered converse at their bridal shower. robin cried

their hair ^^^ idk what to caption this with lol

their flowers ^^^ ruth n rose colors, Nancy thought it was fucking hilarious when robin suggested it so it stuck. the idea of robin in a boutonniere makes me drool too

the ceremony n reception ^^^ nance wanted to get married in a big white church like she saw in movies when she was a little girl, robin wanted someplace quaint and cozy to spend the night surrounded by her best friends. worked out perfectly

their rings ^^^ adorbs

the cake^^^ robin would 100% take nancy's last name bc she worships her wife and fuck stereotypes

^^^ i like to think steve jokingly suggests they serve ice cream, a lil nod to their scoops days, not expecting robin to adore the idea and immediately write it down

best men steve and jonathan ^^^ they wouldn't have bridesmaids cuz what other women do they need in their lives tbh👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

other stuff:

-being apart for like 3 hours while they get ready is torture. before the ceremony they do that first look thingy where they're standing back to back on opposite sides of a wall and they're holding hands and they're so nervous and giggly and then they do a countdown and peek around and both of them just stand there in shock. like they just watched the sky open up and an angel fall to earth. and then nance throws her arms around robin's neck and they start bawling cuz they realize their 20-plus-year dream is coming true UGH. when they step back robin runs a finger through nancy's curls and whispers how she's as beautiful as the first time she laid eyes on her and nancy melts

-they walk down the aisle hand in hand, exchange long sappy handwritten vows, and fall so perfectly into place when they kiss. it's like a scene from a disney movie. not dry eye in the damn building

-at the reception, there's lil charcuterie boards at each table, and they serve wood-fired pizza cuz it's what they ate on their first date (plus it's robin's fave)

-steve and jonathan bring the HOUSE down with their best men speeches. steve's is full of embarrassing jokes about robin that make her face turn red, and when he brings up how she peed her pants in the russian lab she jokingly (kinda) threatens to slit his throat. jonathan's is so sweet and tender and you can tell he still loves nance so so much

-after the speeches robin excuses herself outside and comes back 5 minutes later with a guitar. she plays a song she wrote for nancy. it's generous heart. because maya is robin in this world and doesn't exist and tbh i don't care. it's incredible

-their first dance song is first day of my life by bright eyes

-i hate ted and idk anything aboutt robin's dad so they don't get dances whoops

-nancy cuts the cake because robin with knives is a death wish

-the ice cream cart is a huge hit (steve brags about it for years). robin's a chocolate girl and nancy's a lemon sorbet lover

-they drink champagne and dance to 80s music until the ceiling spins. around midnight nancy grabs robin's hand and pulls her through the crowd to the balcony. they sway there together under the stars, foreheads pressed together, pressing an occasional kiss to the other's cheek. in that moment, they both agree nothing on their dream board could be as good as this

-ALSO instead of a honeymoon they take a road trip, driving route 66 to california, stopping to take pictures at every little landmark and singing at the top of their lungs for hours💘

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #strangerthings 4 #stranger things #stranger things ships #ronance headcanon #ronance hc #ronance fanfiction #sapphic #wlw #lesbian pride #women loving women #bisexual #ronance my beloved #ronance au #robin buckley x nancy wheeler #robin x nancy

[yoongis-black-grilfriend]

Handy Man

Summary: Your car breaks down so you have to call Austin!Elvis to come help you.

Warnings: Smut, Bowjob, and Pentrative sex, dirty talk, reader getting turned on by Elvis fixing their car (and reader is kind of a crybaby in the begining of this), Elvis gets pussy drunk, and Car sex, face slapping, ass slapping, creampie, and breeding kink/ housewife kink?            

This is exactly why you didn't drive. You usually had your boyfriend drive or would just take public transportation but your boyfriend seemed kind of upset that you barely have been driving the new car he got you so you wanted to show him that you care and appreciated by just driving it to work. While you were driving home your tire decided that It wanted to just pop and now you're standing on the side of the road on the freeway.  

Sighing you call your phone out and dial your man's number he answers on the second ring. “Where you at mama you got off like 20 mintues ago” You can feel tears start filling your eyes as you sniffle this was so embarrassing “Oh Elvis I don't know what to do one mintue I was just driving on the highway and the next minute the tire popped off the car!” you complained to him. 

“Don’t cry baby, I'm on my way. What highway are you on?” Looking around with blurry eyes you tell where you are. “Okay i’ll be there shortly go sit in the car and don't accept help from anyone okay?” you answered him and quickly hung up waiting for his arrival in your car. 

Soon after you hear a knock at your window and you see your boyfriend in all his glory carrying a toolbox, a chair, and a tire that his friend helped set on the rode. He sets everything down and opens your door pulling you into a hug rubbing your back whispering “It okay i’m here now and i’m going to fix the car and then we're going to go home okay?” Pulling away he cups his hand around your face and you nod. He gives you a quick peck on the lips and grabs the lawn chair he brought with him. 

Grabbing your hand he opens this lawn chair and has you sit in it. Walking back to his friend's car he brings out a drink and waves goodbye to the person who drove him to you. Handing you the drink he gets starts replacing the tire on your car. A part of you felt bad you didn't know what you did and you probably interrupted him from something he was doing but a part of you was grateful because seeing him with his muscles on display while he was fixing your car was doing something to you. 

“Mama, can I sip your drink please?” standing up you walk over to where he was. You watch him as he tilts his head back so you could pour the drink in his mouth. After a couple gulps and gently moving your hand out the way and went back to putting the new tire on the car. You go to sit back down “How was work?” you heard him say “It was okay it got busy around the afternoon and you already know how that thing goes” He stopped to look at you “Nobody was being too rude today were they?” you quickly shook your head no you already know that if you didn’t he would think you were lying (which you have done before when he asked you this).  

“Well I'm happy to see that it wasn't that bad today.” “Yeah I was too, What were you up honey?” you asked him “Nothing much just went down to the radio station and recorded a few songs, went shopping with my mama a little and went back home waiting you to arrive” 

After five minutes he finishes up and is screwing the knops on the tire to make sure it was really tight. You get up and open the back seat door and pretend to look at something. “Elvis come look at this baby” he quickly put the tools back in his tool box and walked over to where you were  standing. “What is it?” he asked, confused. 

“You need to sit down on the seat to notice it” he sits down confused and you get in the car closing the door behind you. You sit in the backseat on your knees on the other side and reach over and start to unbuckle his pants. “Wha- what are you doing mama?” you reach into his boxers and answer “I just want to choke on your cock right now is that okay?” you asked looking up at him he nodded not knowing what to say and you went back to moving your hand up and down on his already hard cock. 

Ater two more pumps you push his erection down your throat moving your head along the length of his cock. Elvis immediately starts to whimper trying to keep his hips still not wanting to trigger your gag reflex. But you wanted him to completely fuck your face you want him to make you completely filty. “Fuck my face Elvis do what ever you want to me.” You said with your drol and some of his precum escaping down your chin. 

Moving your head down his length again he moves your hair out of your face and starts slowly moving his hips into your mouth. Tapping his thigh you signal to him that you want him to go faster and he does. You gagged as you looked up at him, your eyes watering with you gagging on his cock. “Oh you're a wild card mama, Did you miss me today is that why you're doing this?”  you nod your head, keeping your eyes on him. 

“You wouldn't have to miss me if you just stayed home, You wouldn't have to deal with those lousy people at your job ethier” Elvis for the longest time has been trying to get you to quit your job but you haven't you didn’t want to have to rely on him for everything but definitely does not make it easy for you. 

You don’t say anything, you just move your head faster, feeling his sights shake under you. He grabs the back of your head and pulls you off his choke, working his other hand and chasing his orgasm. One spurt of cum escapes his slit and he aims it at your face drentching you in his cum making you more wet than you already were. 

“Fuck you look so beautiful like this angel” he said making sure all the cum that escaped his cock was on your face reaching over he slaps both of your ass cheeks messaging them with a proud smile on his vface. You were a little hazy but you were not done. You lick your lips feeling his cum slowly go down to your neck and chest. You lay back on the seat and reach under your dress to take your panties off. Elvis watches you with a dark look in his eyes. Opening your legs you give him an invitation to enter you. He sits up facing you and teases his cock on your entrance. 

“Come on Elvis I didn’t do this to you” Elvis chuckles and delivers a small tap to your face the tap makes you whimper and then you let out a full moan when he buries himself to the hilt inside you. “Why won’t you stay at home mama?” You can’t answer with the pleasure that you're receiving being so strong. He taps your face again a little harder this time “Huh? Answer me  baby”. “I don’t know I just don’t want to have to rely on you for anything” 

He starts moving his hips thrusting in and out of you at a calm pace. “That's my job though as your man you're supposed to know that you can rely on me baby” You can hear how wet your cunt is with every snap of his hips. “I know I understand that now” you said, your voice shaking “Will you let me give you a baby?” your eyes widened when he asked “Please I already know you'll be the best mama in the world” you do not trust your voice. 

Elvis grabs your sticky face “Use your word mama. Can I put a baby in you ``Yes” you whimpered out and he plunged into holding your waist as leverage. He looks down and moans at the sight of his cock poke your stomach. You see this and meet your eyes where he was looking. He feels you looking and says “You see that baby that's you'll be holding our little baby for the next couple of months”. You clench at his wording and he almost comes then and there. 

He moves his hips at an animalist speed as notices that you're about to cum. Your slippery walls feel like heaven and when you cream all over his cokc he doesnt even notice as he still continues to snap his hips into your. You arch your back wanting to ease the pleasure but Elvis mind is to scramble on your warm walls to notice you wail as you feel another orgasm approaching. “Elvis, baby this has to be the last one I don't think I could take any more” you said with your voice trembling. 

He seems to have noticed that you rub his fingers in your slippery clit making your cum hard. He buries himself inside one last time before you feel his cum fill your cervix. He waits a couple of times to pull out and when he does he sees a little amount of his cum escaping your cunt he scoops it up and holds it near your lips you lean up and takes his fingers in your mouth.

“Your going to be a great mother,” he said, kissing your sticky lips.

#austin butler #austin butler as elvis #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin! elvis smut #austin!elvis x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis x y/n #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #elvis 2022 #elvis (2022) #elvis biopic #smut #austin butler x reader smut #imagine #oneshot #austin butler elvis #elvis movie #austin butler x black! reader #austin butler x woc reader #elvis x black reader #austin butler smut #elvis #elvis presley #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis fic #elvis presely x black reader

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 13

A/N: Woof. This one took me a minute. Also, it's a short bridge-type chapter, but don't worry. Next chapter will be LONG and JUICY. This is just a necessary part of the story. Please don't give up on us! ICYMI this is the soulmate/time travel AU between Elvis and a fem!reader.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: cussing and angst (a smut-free chapter?! Who am I?! Don't worry. It's coming soon and they will be too 😏)

Word count: ~1.9k

"Why didn't she come for me?"

******

Elvis spends the next few weeks anxiously waiting for you to show up somewhere. It's clear his mind is elsewhere. Everyone around him notices that something is off, but he won't tell anyone what's going on. He just prowls around like a caged animal, nervous and waiting for something that no one understands. He goes back to Memphis before he has to be back in Vegas in August to film his concert documentary. The only thing that gets him out of his room is Lisa Marie. Otherwise, he mopes around or stays inside.

What no one knows is he's grieving. He's pretty sure he's lost you and his son too. The pain almost overwhelms him and he has a hard time living in his real life. He finds solace in music and spends a lot of time at the piano playing a whole catalogue of new songs. His favorite, though, is a song produced by the Beatles' record label, and he eventually asks to record it later that summer. It ends up on his album for the documentary That's the Way It Is and even makes it into a rehearsal scene with him playing it on the piano and singing. For some reason, the song makes him think of you, so he sings it as often as he can.

Even though it begins to look like he's back to himself, the pain of losing you is omnipresent. He resigns himself to the fact that he will likely never see you or his son ever again. As such, he leans into the documentary and even does a photo shoot with Priscilla over Thanksgiving to try to rekindle the affection he feels for her.

But he still feels like part of his soul has gone missing. It's the same old feeling he always has when he's away from you for too long, but this time it settles in his chest and becomes a part of him. 1970 slips into 1971 and he does his best to move on. 1971 slips into 1972 and he throws himself into work and lets his relationship with Priscilla sour. She moves out and he has a hard time even caring, except that she took Lisa Marie and it just twists the dagger of having already lost one child. There are other girls, like there always have been, but they never fill the void that you leave. He has a you-shaped hole in his heart that no amount of sex or romance or even love can fill. 1972 slides by, he films Elvis on Tour, and he plays shows across the United States. He plays Vegas again and then tours again, hoping that by keeping himself busy he'll notice your absence less.

Finally, he prepares for the Aloha from Hawaii concert that will be broadcast across the world. He tries to get back into peak physical shape and does everything he can to throw himself fully into this concert. In the process, he squashes the last hope of you ever showing up again. It's been three years.

You're gone.

******

Covid hits strong in 2020 and your world gets upended. You learn to work from home, host zoom call happy hours with your friends (even though you're pregnant and can't drink), and wear a mask anytime you're in public, which isn't often. In September, you give birth (alone and in a mask) to your daughter and name her Erin Love. She's perfectly healthy and looks so much like her brother you think you've given birth to his twin. And again you weep. Elvis is missing this and you know it'll break him if he ever finds out.

2020 fades into 2021 and you still can't risk going out with a baby. Every time you start to think it might be safe, a new strain or variant shows up and the world cowers in fear again. Vegas opens, but you're terrified, both of traveling and of the possibility of sending Covid back to 1971.

So, you wait. You wait and you wait and you keep waiting until your baby is old enough and the virus seems to slow down. Still, Vegas, with its masses of people, seems too risky. Finally, in December of 2022 you have an idea. You start making plans to head to Hawaii with both kids and your mom in January of 2023. Hawaii is much more secluded and you know exactly where he will be.

When you ask your mom to come with you, she wants to know why. This is going to be a very expensive vacation and she's not sure why you need her. You sit on her couch trying to decide just how much you should tell her. Eventually, you settle on something very close to the truth.

"John is there. We haven't seen each other in three years." You look down at the ring on your finger.

"I was starting to wonder if he still existed."

"I'm not even sure he'll want to see me..." You look at the ceiling to try to stop yourself from crying, but it doesn't work and the tears come sliding down your face.

"Oh, sweetie. I'm sure he does. He loves you."

"I hope so." She pulls you into a hug.

"I will go with you. I'll watch the kids so you two can get reacquainted."

"Thank you, mom."

Once she agrees to go with you, you drop an ungodly amount of money to stay in his suite and pack up both kids to fly to the islands. You decide not to tell John Jessie why you're going, just in case it doesn't work out. He's almost 6 now and he asks about his daddy damn near everyday. Somehow, he remembers him despite the fact that it's been almost 3 years since he's seen him. Erin's too little to ask questions. She doesn't even know she has a daddy, which breaks your heart every time you think about it.

******

After a rehearsal, Elvis heads to his suite to rest. He's 100% invested in what he's doing. But out of nowhere, he thinks of you again. He hums the song he's designated as yours and goes to work changing out of his jumpsuit.

He's got the zipper all the way down when he hears a sound that makes his heart stop. There it is, the old familiar buzzing. He hasn't heard it in so long. He turns slowly, sees the portal, and practically runs through it without thinking about the fact that he has no clothes packed and is wearing a jumpsuit.

******

When Elvis comes through the portal, he stops and stares at you. He's so in shock that he doesn't know how to respond. Your mouth pops open in awe of him standing there in the American Eagle jumpsuit fully unzipped. He looks better than you could've imagined. Obviously, you've seen the footage, but it really didn't do him justice. He zips it back up and gives you a hard stare.

"It's been three fucking years, y/n."

"I know-" You don't get any further though because John Jessie comes bounding into the room. He runs to Elvis and jumps on him. He's supposed to be napping with your mom in one of the bedrooms.

"Daddy! I heard you!" Elvis grabs him and holds him tightly.

"Heyyy buddy, I missed you so much!" You can tell he's trying hard not to cry. You look nervously towards the bedroom. If your mom sees him in this jumpsuit, it'll be impossible to explain.

"Bubby, where's your grandma?"

"She's asleep." You breathe easier and John Jessie turns back to his daddy. He launches into a monologue that only a 5-year-old can follow, but Elvis sits with him on the couch and listens attentively. You stand and watch the scene and Elvis glances at you every once in a while.

After about 15 minutes, you hear Erin cry from the room where she is taking her nap. Elvis looks up at you, shocked.

"Who is that?"

"That's my sister. She's little still." John Jessie answers knowingly. Elvis's head swivels to you so fast.

"Sister?" You nod and duck out of the room to grab Erin before her crying wakes your mom up. When you come back, Elvis looks at both of you and his eyes are shiny with tears. "Is she-?"

"She's yours." He stands up and immediately takes her from you.

"What's her name?"

"Erin Love."

"Love? Like my..." He trails off and looks at her lovingly.

"Yes. Like your mother." He holds her to himself and looks up at the ceiling, trying not to cry. He pulls back and looks at her again while she babbles to him.

"Baby, do you know I'm your daddy?" She looks up at him.

"Daddy?"

"Yes!" She smiles widely and he holds her close to him again. He looks at you incredulously.

"We have another baby."

"Yes, we do." He kisses her cheek and sets her down on the floor, turning to you. His eyes burn through you and he whispers angrily.

"Where the fuck have you been?! We have a daughter?!"

"Please, Elvis, I can explain."

"You better. I'm going to spend the evening with my kids, but you better have a damn good story when they go to bed."

You nod. How will you get him to understand Covid?

******

He changes into some clothes you have for him and helps you put the kids to bed. Despite not knowing the routine, he proves to be pretty helpful. You're amazed at how well John Jessie remembers him. Your mom seems to just know she should make herself scarce through the whole evening and stays in the room. Once you get both kids in bed, you sit on the couch facing him, heart pounding and stomach in knots. He looks at you with a mixture of sadness and anger.

"Tell me why, y/n."

"There is a new virus." You desperately try to explain everything that's happened over the last three years.

"So you couldn't come to me because of a cold virus?"

"Elvis, you don't understand. This was a global pandemic. Everything was closed and people all around the world were dying. They literally shut down Las Vegas."

"I've been other places." He responds, the anger in his voice obvious.

"I know, but I couldn't risk our kids. Or the possibility of you taking this virus back to your time. I finally feel safe here in Hawaii."

"I don't know, y/n, I'm glad you're okay and I'm especially excited to see the kids. But I thought I'd lost you. I buried you in my mind."

"Did you- did you move on?" For the first time, the reality that your marriage to Elvis might be over hits you in the gut and your eyes widen. Elvis isn't sure how to answer. He has a girlfriend, and technically another wife. But he looks at you sitting in front of him and can't help but feel the connection that's bound you together for over fifteen years. He wants to be angry so badly, but really all he is is sad. Sad that he missed the first two and a half years of his daughter's life. Sad that he went so long without all of you. Sad that you almost feel like a stranger now.

You sit on the couch staring at each other waiting for his answer.

******

Come back soon for Chapter 14!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @noirrose21-blog @tacozebra051 @deltafalax

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