#I was genuinely having a really good time throughout

[juletheghoul]

If the General and Girlwife have 1000 fans, I'm one of them.

If the General and Girlwife have 100 fans, I'm one of them.

If the General and Girlwife have 1 fan, it's me.

If the General and Girlwife have no fans, it's because I'm no longer here.

(Ty for this wonderful story, and this is also a plea for a wedding night drabble please and ty 💜)

you cannot know how happy this comment made me, just laughing and giggling like a teen, here's your Drabble - I genuinely didn't even proofread this one- enjoy!

Warnings: fluff, implied sexy stuff, mostly just romantic wedding stuff. (took some liberties because I really have no idea what ancient Roman weddings were like)

Masterlist series masterlist

-

The house buzzes like a hive, attendants and slaves rush around the villa, finishing their last minute tasks for the wedding and despite there being months of preparation it still feels wrong to not participate. It feels wrong to be tended to. 

“May I know where he is?” You ask the older woman fussing at your hair, every second she spends on it weighs you down, flowers have been threaded through it, a crown of blooms that make you smell like a garden. 

“He is preparing for the wedding, Domina. Just now I imagine they are oiling his skin and dressing him in his finery for the ceremony.” She smiles, patting your shoulder, “he is eager, I can promise you that.” 

“Is he? I confess, my belly flutters and my nerves are shredded.” You huff out a nervous laugh, struggling to keep your cool in all of the layers. A fine dress draped with heavy, snow white fabric. Your arms are laden with the gifts he’d sent, heavy golden bracelets and intricate armbands coiled around three times over. Your ears are heavy with dark blue stones, a necklace to match at your neck. Your fingers press at the heavy thing just at your throat and you take a deep breath. 

You haven’t seen him since the night before, the two of you falling asleep, exhausted after a day of preparations. You’d hoped to see him in the morning, to gain some comfort to take with you through the day but he had been gone. The older woman had greeted you instead, a tray heavy-laden with food as well as a host of other women sent to bathe and prepare you for your wedding day. 

When you finally see him, he looks nothing short of regal, an Emperor dripping in white and gold and ordained by the Gods themselves. His eyes are soft when they land upon you, focused, and completely enraptured. He doesn’t look away. 

Everything falls away when you finally stand before him, when his hands grasp yours. You follow along, barely cognizant of anything except him, barely aware of the witnesses, of the people who cheer and clap and when he presses his mouth to yours, soft and sweet you smile and grip him tight. 

The feast after is a dream. It is a cloud on which you both rest and focus on nothing but each other. Perhaps as a girl, late at night in your dreams you imagined a wedding, a man who would choose you above all others and give you a home and a family. Never was it like this, even in the uncharted land of hope and romance where anything could happen, this felt like too much. This beautiful, loving, devoted man surpassed any fantasy you might have had.

Your face warms under his eye, nervous despite all you’ve been through with him. He smiles wide, his dimple on display as he feeds you from his hand, your heart races when he eats from yours. This is the happiest he’s been, that brutal man who’d kept to himself has been replaced with a man that laughs, someone soft and warm, a man that holds your hand to his chest, a husband, a protector. 

He whispers his devotion throughout the feast, he pulls your chair close to his, drapes his arm around your shoulder because he cannot be close enough. 

People you recognize, and some you don’t congratulate you, extol his virtues and praise the Gods on the good fortune that has befallen the house of Acacius. They offer to make sacrifices, that your house should fill with children and although your heart sinks, you thank them. Marcus squeezes at your shoulder, a wordless reassurance and he also thanks them for their kind words. 

When at last he takes you to bed, your nerves are calm. You smile brightly when he slips your robes off with practiced hands, the jewels and gold he must have spent a fortune on are taken off and placed within their box, his smile is smaller, but it warms you like the sun. Your hands join in, divesting him of his layers until you both stand nude, bathed in candlelight. He leaves the flowers in your hair when he loves you and you fall asleep amongst a storm of petals. 

-

[secriden]

It was so sad to see Style crying like that, but more than that I was initially so shocked? Style has been a ray of sunshine and see him completely break down down like that-my heart stopped for a few seconds! This is the third time we see Style cry (if we didn't count the near-crying throughout this episode cause my gosh he was putting on a brave face in front of Fadel) and I genuinely did not expect to see him cry so much. My heart just broke :(

I think something that really got to me about the context of Style's breakdown is knowing that Style has extensive experience with what it means to have to be "strong" for the sake of someone else. We know his dad broke down / potentially was emotionally and maybe even mentally absent after his mom died ("he lost his bearings for a bit" is vague, but it gives us an idea that it was both fairly severe and also prolonged enough to be concerning), we know that Style had to cope with that when he was "only a kid" and so much of this learned coping can be seen in this episode.

Even while the plan to turn Lily in is in motion, it's Style that ensures the practicalities of Fadel and Bison having fake passports and an idea of how to get out of the country. And it makes so much fucking sense for them not to trust the Captain, who has literally been nothing but shady and unreliable -- like we literally meet him going back on his word by blackmailing Kant with a record he was already supposed to have expunged.

As much as I appreciate Kant having his little revenge blackmail plotline (for the poetry of it all - also, Kant's expression in this scene is <3), it was purely happenstance that he stumbled on it in the first place. Kant didn't even realise that the Captain would be at Babe's school; his surprise when he sees him is a clear indication of that. So Kant's plan, as far as we know, really was to trust in the Captain's reliability (the disbelief, it's SO very suspended).

So I'm really grateful, not only for the good sense Style had to take these precautions, but also how it shows that Style's carefree and seemingly childish demeanour does not preclude him from being serious when something matters to him: Style is thinking, planning, and actively taking steps to ensure that Fadel and Bison somehow maintain their freedom.

And all of this is motivated by something so very simple. Style's love for Fadel is so complete, so fundamental to what he wants for his future, that Style has no reservations with uprooting his entire life, potentially leaving his dad and everything he's ever known for years, as long as he gets to be with Fadel. The only thing Style is truly afraid of is not having this future. He can stomach anything else, but not an outcome that would deny him being by Fadel's side.

So when it all comes crashing down, when the brothers decide they're going to take the deal and Style is forced to accept Fadel's choice, Style is genuinely upset for himself. Fadel is resigned to this; if anything, as he says himself, 5 years is nothing compared to the life sentence or death he was expecting. But Fadel being on the run would have allowed Style to be with Fadel, while jail means a prolonged separation, and the whole point of all of Style's efforts at the start of the episode was to avoid precisely this outcome.

But Style's love is also inherently selfless. I've been saying this over and over again, and it was so clear to me in episode 7 and 8 that Style will set aside his own feelings, will deny his own immediate wants, if he knows it will benefit the one he loves. The day was never about what Style wanted or even Style's own feelings about missing Fadel. This last day was a gift to Fadel, a chance to make memories which may be all Fadel has to carry him through the next 5 years.

So Style takes one last moment for himself, one moment to allow the agony he feels to bleed through when Fadel cannot see it...

...before he commits himself to being nothing but cheerful and comforting and understanding and supportive to Fadel for the rest of the day. I know it was a small moment, but it broke me the way Style very clearly places his hand under Fadel's. The way he gives Fadel something to hold onto, to anchor himself to, as Fadel tries to find the words to promise Style's dad a future he knows he cannot guarantee. Style's entire fucking thing this episode is a harrowing lesson on putting on a front and being strong for someone else.

Because Fadel wants this so badly. He wants his last day with Style to be a happy one. He wants to take the time to show his affection and care and cling onto the pretence at normalcy, to spend the day being the kind of sweet boyfriend Fadel never really got the chance to be with Style because the last time he did this was when he was lying to Style and he thought Style didn't love him. And Style gives Fadel the relief of being strong enough to bear what Fadel wants; even in the face of Fadel's grave and a rather morbid conversation that fringes on suicidal ideation, Style finds a way to make Fadel smile.

So we get a do-over, a highlight reel of some of their most intense moments of either connection or fracturing, only this time, Fadel gets to be honest about what he feels for Style. He gets to accept Style's love without having to pretend that he doesn't want or need it. He gets to let Style know just how much Style means to him, why Fadel is so grateful that Style came into his life. And Style, selfless and true to his promise gives Fadel everything he needs to get through the day. Gives Fadel exactly what he asked for even if it carved out his own heart in the process.

And oh god, I'm so grateful for this acknowledgement that Fadel knows what is going on. He knows that Style is sad, he knows that Style feels things keenly, that the jokes and the flippant words are a mere coverup. But he also understands that this is how Style both deals with his grief and also that it's being done out of love, and so Fadel allows himself to be grateful and to love Style all the more for it.

And even when Fadel himself breaks, when the tears come at the end of the night, when Fadel has been forced to take Style's promise to remain true to him despite Fadel wanting better for him, Style gives Fadel the dignity of pretending all he's wiping away are the crumbs on his face and not the proof of Fadel's inability to be strong for himself.

Which is why I knew this was coming. I knew that Style could only go so long, could only be so strong, before he would crumble. Because this was the one thing Style didn't want to happen. This was the one fucking thing he asked Fadel for -- that they would get to be together, no matter what the cost was. And oh, he was so brave when he realised it wasn't going to happen, he was so strong even as he has to watch Fadel walk into handcuffs, right until the car disappeared into the darkness and that's when Style shatters.

Because five years is still too fucking long when your heart's just been taken from you.

[drdemonprince]

I have a lifelong hypnokink but for years and years I completely hid it and only engaged through checking the what's new page on the mcstories.com every week and other forms of porn. I have been slowly opening up about it over the last few years and reached out to other people who are into it and I also now have an interested and supportive partner who is starting to explore hypnotic play with me.

I am at the point where I talk pretty openly and earnestly about this with them now (I used to have to really veil it in layers of detached irony and jokes) and we have engaged in roleplay around it which has been very fun, but when we try to engage in actual hypnotic sessions where they try to hypnotise me (even nonsexually) I get these massive waves of shame bubbling up and start crying.

There's a lot of tangled feelings and I don't know how to separate them all out. At least part of it is just feeling ridiculous and stupid for wanting this. And also that I am making them do something weird and awful and gross. This is mixed up with feelings about my own performance as a subject—I am in my own head a lot and constantly second guessing what I'm doing and experiencing and find it difficult to know how to engage with hypnotic suggestions.

The first time we tried I broke down into a sobbing mess before we even started. It has been getting better and my partner has been incredibly sweet and supportive and helped me feel very safe as we make progress on this, but they are also pretty new to all this and I was wondering if you had any advice or insight that might help?

Hi there Anon, I am answering this question on voice to text because it really touched my heart and I wanted to get to it and give it attention right away even though my hands are still pretty busted and it's been a long day. so please excuse any typos or weird homophonic errors.

like you, I was consumed with shame about my hypnosis fetish for a very long time. I knew since I was a very young child that hypnosis called to me, and fantasized about it in a deeply sexual way from very young, but I never said a word about it to another person until my late twenties. and even then it was a pretty fleeting, glancing thing. I found it a lot easier to play online with remote partners than to tell someone that I was in a intimate real-life relationship with. I also retreated into fantasy a lot, never believing that it would be possible for me to share in the kink with another person in a genuine way.

eventually I did meet some really wonderful play partners and Doms who helped me to realize I wasn't alone in harboring this fetish, and really populated my inner world and mental architecture to make me a better subject who was more capable of experiencing pleasure and transformation in hypnosis. but without that good fortune and their mentorship I don't know where I'd be.

One thing that I would recommend to you is locating the hypnosis fetish community and plugging yourself and your partner into it a bit more. there are both in person and digital conferences throughout the world for hypnosis fetishists. The kink's stock is up in a major way, especially thanks to the widespread popularity of pup play and bimbo play that incorporates hypnotic elements. if you are in a major city or on one of the American coasts, there are hypnosis oriented events and groups available to you. I even know of hypnosis fetish groups in relatively small towns like Winnipeg that are thriving and filled with other people.

I think both you and your partner will learn a lot technically about enjoying hypnosis scenes well, and that you'll rid yourself of a lot more of your remaining shame if you can take in some of their resources and really be in community with people who get this desire. hypnosis is a skill that requires a lot of time to develop, and there's really no ceiling to the amount of skill a person can get in it. both being a hypnotist and a subject are really intensive discrete skills, and knowing other people who are honing those skills will really help you and impart you some tips and tricks that could really spare you a lot of pain and give you some new ideas for how to have fun together.

as for the shame and crying freak outs that you are experiencing, it sounds like you are having an abreaction, which is a pretty common form of emotional spillage following an intense hypnotic event. these reactions can happen when we get triggered or a nerve gets struck, but also sometimes they emerge just because we've really plunged into emotional depths or a dark headspace and our brain is freaked out by it and trying to draw us back up.

letting a person into your mind is really intimate and revealing, and when you are embarrassed or ashamed of even wanting that degree of revealment, there are a lot of emotional explosions that can occur. continue to move through this and process it with your partner. if they are enjoying exploring this kink with you, they probably find a lot of value in getting to explore your mind and learn how you react to things, and a lot of intimacy can be built through examining strong reactions and processing freak outs together.

I know that it is hard to believe, but you are not inconveniencing your partner, or putting them out, or failing to make the most of their supposed generosity by not always having an easy and an enthusiastic response to them engaging in hypnosis play with you. these disturbed intense reactions are part of the work, and potentially it can take you to new places together, if you let it.

I think you should probably also continue to explore your own hypnotic capacity on your own, watching spirals, listening to hypnotic audio files, meditating, writing mantras in a notebook or on a website such as Write for Me, and learning carefully how to bring yourself down into a trance, as well as how to bring yourself out. if you haven't yet, you and your partner should read books on hypnotic techniques and safeties; Mark Wiseman and sleepinggirl's books are probably the best place to start.

One of the things I was really fortunate to experience early on was having a Dom who installed safeties into my mind that force me to articulate when I am feeling unsafe and bring myself out of a trance automatically regardless of whatever the hypnotist is doing or if there's even another person there. I really believe that every hypnotic subject should have these kinds of safeties put in place early on and have them reinforced regularly so that they are ultimately able to pull the rip cord on any suggestion or mental state that is damaging to them.

beyond that, I'd say just keep working at it. if anything, these strong emotions that you're having are a demonstration of how powerful and significant this kind of stuff can be. hypnosis is heady fucking stuff. and that's part of what's so hot and enchanting about it. this stuff is real. it's a level of profound control and knowledge that you're giving over to a partner when you do this stuff, and that alone can be incredibly rewarding to them, even if they didn't have a hypnosis kink before they met you. what you are doing is not silly or disgusting, nor is it a waste of a partner's time. It is a beautiful, really really intimate gift. really. a lot of new people have gotten into hypnosis in the last few years because it is such a flexible and vulnerable kink that really pushes a lot of sexual and emotional buttons. any partner who shares in this activity with you is lucky to get to do so, you have nothing to apologize for or feel ashamed about. I hope you have a really enriching time with this. this is a very special part of you and a very special way to connect. I hope you can enjoy it for all that it is, even in its darker and scarier moments.

[heart-of-ep]

Elvis: Through Her Lens (Chapter One)

(Elvis Presley × OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley

Read More Here: Elvis: Through Her Lens (coming soon)

Prompt: You are Minnie Jones, an aspiring photographer working for the LA Sentinel. Your chief editor is looking for a story that will help boost the popularity of the paper, so an opportunity comes knocking when Colonel Tom Parker approaches him with a new 'snowjob.' After a tentative first meeting with the Colonel, and his star Elvis Presley, you are hired on to follow Elvis around as his personal photographer in an attempt to catch lightening in a bottle twice with the earlier success of the Alfred Wertheimer photos. Along the way, you develop a close bond with Elvis, leading to complications in your relationship when the issues of his marriage and eventual drug usage start to put a strain on your relationship. Constantly fighting your ever-growing feelings for him, you are swept up into the whirlwind of Elvis' world, which forces you to see the King of Rock 'n' Roll through a new lens.

Tags: Slow burn. Angst. Drama. Friends to lovers (sort of).

Rating: PG-13 (ish) (may get spicy but won't be explicit as I don't enjoy writing smut lol but cursing, possible violence, prescription drug use, and infidelity will appear throughout the story.)

Word Count: 3.6k

Author's Note: Hey everyone! My name is Mari (aka heart.of.ep on here and Instagram!) and I'm so excited to finally be diving into the world of Elvis fanfiction after being a hard-core fan for almost three years now. This is my first time writing in a long while, and it's only my second time writing a fanfiction, so I hope I'm able to entertain you with this story and I hope everyone has a fun time reading it!

I did create an OC for this story as I have an easier time writing with a specific character in mind, but I kept it in second person as to give readers the opportunity to self insert in a way. Wasn't a fan of this POV at first but its really grown on me so hopefully I've done it well haha.

This story will begin by following Elvis in 1970 (my favorite year 🤭) but will continue on throughout the early 1970s! There may be some historical inaccuracies along the way to accommodate the presence of Minnie Jones, but of course I'm always striving to keep things as accurate as I possibly can.

I don't think I will have a specific upload schedule or regular time for posting, but I'll try my best to be as frequent as I can with uploading chapters. Any comments, thoughts, reblogs, etc are very much appreciated and I genuinely hope everyone loves this story as much as I do. 🙏

If you'd like to be tagged in any chapters going forward, just comment and let me know!

Thank you once again and I hope everyone enjoys!

February, 1970

Los Angeles, CA

~*~*~*~*~*~

Elvis Presley.

The most photographed man in the world, and for good reason it seemed. Impossibly blue eyes that swirled like the depth of an ocean, statuesque like features that even a Greek god would most likely be jealous of, and a brilliant smile that sent millions of girls and women all around the world into a complete frenzy whenever he flashed it their way.

It made perfect sense then why his face was pretty much plastered on every magazine you ever came in contact with. Not to mention the various movie posters you would often see at the theater throughout the years. You could even recall being just about twelve years old when Love Me Tender first hit theaters. Even at such a young age, you could see why everyone sitting around you in that dark theater were either crying or screaming. His beauty seemed to transcend the realm of normal.

As hyperbolic as it may seem, no one in the world looked like Elvis Presley, that much was certain.

Unfortunately, while many photos exist, most are heavily curated, either on a movie set or in a studio with lighting and makeup. It didn't make him any less beautiful, but it did give the fans and the public a very specific view of the King, one controlled by Hollywood and his manager, Colonel Tom Parker.

In the early days, there were hundreds of photos of Elvis that appeared in newspapers from fans and those photographers who were lucky enough to capture a picture of lightning in a bottle. But those days were far gone, and nothing like it has surfaced since.

And that's exactly why you had been brought to your editor's office early one morning in February of 1970. You had been busy working on gathering photos for a local political campaign, which was a real bore, but someone had to do it and you didn't exactly have the seniority to say no. But when your manager called you about a new project, you were practically chomping at the bit to accept. Of course, you wanted to hear him out first.

“You've been doing great work, Minnie. These shots are truly some of the best this paper has seen in a while.” Your editor, Mr Pierce, said as he looked over the pictures you had submitted this morning.

“Thank you, sir. Though, I think there's only so much I can do to make a rally look interesting.” You said jokingly.

Your boss snorted. “You're right about that.” He sighed before sitting the folder down on his desk. “Which is exactly why I called you here. I think your talents are being wasted on shit like this.” He said bluntly. Your boss never did sugarcoat. “I was recently brought an opportunity from a rather…private sort of individual, and I think you would be the perfect fit.”

You raised an eyebrow, now rather curious. Usually your paper only covered public events or individuals. “Who exactly is it?”

Pierce seemed hesitant at first to tell you, but eventually he decided to just come right out and say it. “Elvis Presley.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "Elvis Presley?” You weren’t sure if you had cotton in your ears or if maybe you were imagining it, but Pierce noticed your surprise and quickly added some context to explain.

“Yes, Elvis Presley. I can’t say I had a very different reaction when his manager called me a couple days ago.” He said as he sat down in the chair behind his desk. “I’m sure you know that Mr Presley has been taking a step back into live performances this past year, which means every photographer worth a damn is chomping at the bit to capture the ‘best’ photo of him possible for their respective news outlet. So far they’ve been doing a damn good job. Meanwhile, we’ve got nothing.” He grumbled in frustration. “Needless to say, Presley is the hottest talk in town, and we’re failing to keep up.”

You furrowed your brow a bit. “I don’t understand…why did his manager contact us?” If there were already dozens of papers covering Elvis’s shows from all across the world, then why contact a somewhat small paper in Los Angeles?

Pierce seemed to light up at your question. “I had the same question, my dear.” He stood up again, unable to sit still. “Are you familiar with Alfred Wertheimer?”

The name was instantly recognizable. Any real photographer knew of Wertheimer’s work, especially if you knew anything about Elvis Presley. “Of course I know about him. His work with Presley is still amazing even now.” You said, trying your best to keep your adulation in check.

“Well, no photo of Elvis Presley has been taken like that since Wertheimer almost fifteen years ago.” He frowned a bit. “Seems as though his manager,” and apparent publicist, “wants to change that. With all this new buzz surrounding Presley, he wants to see if he can capture lightning in a bottle twice.”

It quickly began to dawn on you what this all meant exactly. “Shit.” You muttered under your breath.

Perhaps Alfred Wertheimer didn’t mean much to the uninitiated, but the photographs of Elvis were completely unprecedented. Just at the cusp of fame and without the glitz and glamor that would soon overtake him in Hollywood, Wertheimer was able to capture a view of Elvis that was both intimate, but also honest and revealing in a way that didn’t feel voyeuristic in the slightest. It was the picture and story of an Elvis Presley that still felt entirely obtainable and human. It was truly a special form of artistic expression that only a photographer with a great deal of talent could accomplish.

Which is precisely why you were sitting there staring at your boss like he had completely lost his mind. “S-sir...you’re not suggesting that I…?”

Pierce smiled at you and nodded. “I knew immediately that you’d be the perfect candidate, my dear. After all, it was your photos covering the Nixon inauguration that sparked Mr Parker’s curiosity to begin with.”

You practically felt your heart leap in your chest, leaving you utterly speechless for a long moment. This was definitely a step up from a local mayoral campaign.

The prospect of photographing someone as famous as Elvis Presley was exciting on its own, but from how your boss explained it, this wouldn’t be a simple snap and go for a quick column on page four of the paper. To compare it to Wertheimer’s work made you realize just how important this opportunity was. This side of Elvis hadn’t been captured in over a decade, and no doubt it would catapult your career towards opportunities you’ve only ever dreamed of covering.

“Well?” Pierce’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Of course, we would still have to meet with Mr Parker and Mr Presley.” He said as he sat back down in his chair.

You parted your lips, not sure what to say at first before you finally pushed your excitement down and immediately stood up. “Well? Of course I want to!” You said, practically grinning from ear to ear. “Jesus, Pierce, this is amazing!”

He smirked a bit. “I take it you’re an Elvis fan?”

You rolled your eyes. “Everyone likes Elvis, but that’s not what matters. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” You had to stop yourself from jumping with joy.

He laughed a little before standing up again as he dialed a number on his phone. “Presley just finished up his current residency in Las Vegas. According to Parker he’ll be back here in Los Angeles before leaving for a string of concerts in Houston.” He held the phone up to his ear. “We can plan a meeting between you two beforehand. After all, this whole thing is dependent on Elvis Presley liking you enough to let you follow him around.”

You felt your smile dissipate a little at that realization. You hadn’t exactly considered that part in the few minutes you had to think about everything. You were charming enough, but this was Elvis Presley. Enough wouldn’t cut it. You swallowed a bit, but nodded, ignoring the sudden flurry of nerves that swarmed in your stomach.

This is your one shot, Minn. Don’t screw this up.

The next few hours felt like a whirlwind. You spent the majority of that time researching anything and everything about Elvis Presley. As it turns out, a lot had happened since his pictorial debut in Love Me Tender. You hadn’t exactly been keeping up with his career, and now all of it seemed a bit overwhelming. You weren’t sure what to expect from a man like him, especially since any other celebrity you had the opportunity to meet usually turned out to be a total asshole. You didn’t think he would be any different. After all, the humble southerner with perfect manners and an award winning smile just felt too good to be true.

You flipped through a magazine from the stack on your desk, biting your lip in concentration as you read over the raving reviews from Elvis’ previous engagement at the International Hotel in Vegas last summer. You vaguely remember one of your girlfriends at the time mentioning it in passing, but you hadn’t thought much of it. Now you wondered if you were completely insane for having overlooked the entire thing.

The photos of him were truly magnificent, picturing him in a slim fitting two piece jumpsuit that seemed inspired by the style of a karate gi. It alternated between black and white depending on the night of the show, and you couldn’t help but think about how well the black complemented his dark chiseled features. It was a much different look than his earlier appearances throughout the sixties. The greased back hair was now loose and untamed, a reflection of the evolving style in the entertainment world, and the button ups and blazers now seemed to be replaced by a bare chested look accompanied by a stylish scarf around the neck.

Quite frankly, it was hard not to get caught up in the image of him, but you quickly reminded yourself that even though he was Elvis Presley, world famous superstar, he was also just a subject for you to photograph at the end of the day.

A very beautiful subject, indeed.

You practically chewed off all of your fingernails by the time Pierce came out of his office in the early afternoon, approaching your desk with an optimistic look in his eyes. “Good news, Minn, it looks like you’ll be meeting Elvis Presley tonight.”

Your heart leaped in your chest as you stood up from your desk, prying your eyes away from the papers on your desk. “Really? He agreed to the meeting?”

“He sure did, though I doubt that manager gave him much of a choice.” He snorted. “A real carny, that one, but it’ll all be worth it if we can secure this job. Our paper will practically fly off the stands if you can snap those photos.” He grinned.

“Right, no pressure.” You mumbled, trying to ease your growing anxiety as you imagined all the ways this could possibly go wrong.

“Don’t worry, Minn. You’re charming and pretty. Knowing Presley’s reputation, that’ll surely be enough.” He smirked, nudging you a bit before turning on his heel toward his office.

You shot him a glare before letting out a deep breath as you quickly gathered up your portfolio, shoving the photographs inside the binder before standing up and pulling your coat on. You refused to let your nerves get the best of you, after all, this is your job. And as such, you weren’t going to let this opportunity slip through your fingers.

The ride over to Beverly Hills felt long and seemingly endless. You kept staring out the window, focusing your gaze on the large mansions that you drove past, frowning as you realized just how out of your league you really felt. After all, you hadn’t exactly been to this side of LA. The few times you had gotten the chance to photograph a celebrity, it had always been at some sort of public event like an awards show or some kind of charity fundraiser. This, however, felt like a strange new world that you were entering.

You briefly wondered why Elvis and his manager didn’t just come down to the office to conduct this whole ‘interview’ or set up a meeting somewhere on Sunset Blvd, but when you asked Pierce about it, he simply explained the logistics of having Elvis Presley go somewhere so public. You didn’t think much of it, assuming that since it’s Los Angeles nobody would care very much about a celebrity walking around, but then you recalled the different articles you had read and figured maybe Elvis didn’t quite fit into that category.

You chewed on your fingernails, watching as the mansions grew larger before you finally descended upon a set of cast iron gates blocking a long driveway that kept a house just out of view. Much to your surprise, there was a fairly large group of fans already stationed outside, giggling amongst themselves as they took photos with their polaroid cameras. You glanced at Pierce, giving him a skeptical look to which he simply shrugged. He pulled up to the gates, and without having to push a doorbell of any kind, the gates buzzed and suddenly opened up, the crowd of fans quickly dispersing out of the way.

It surprised you to see that they didn’t try following the car inside, but they stayed respectful and stuck to the exterior as the gates closed shut behind you and Pierce pulled forward, parking his car next to a small, but impressive, collection of Cadillacs. You figured if everything fell through with Elvis, maybe he’d be okay with you snapping a few photos of his cars as a consolation gift.

Once again, you pushed down the flurry of nerves that settled in your stomach, realizing it was stupid to feel so nervous over a simple meeting. After all, it’s not like you were the one who set the whole thing up, if they weren’t really interested, they wouldn’t have gone through all of this trouble. That thought helped qualm the uneasiness you felt as you stepped out of the car, looking up at the gorgeous home that overlooked the rolling hills below.

It really did feel like the perfect place for a superstar like Elvis to live.

“Come on, Miss Jones, we’re about to make history.” Pierce grinned as he took the lead, following the brick pathway up to the front door of the mansion.

You self consciously kept messing with your hair, tucking the loose strands behind your ear and pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose as you anxiously awaited for the door to open. When the door opened, you and Pierce were met by a rather short fellow with a goofy smile.

“Mr Pierce?” The man in front of you inquired.

Your boss nodded and smiled. “Yes, and this is my associate Miss Jones.” He said as he gestured toward you. “I believe Mr Parker is expecting us?”

The fellow nodded and smiled again as he quickly stepped aside to let the two of you in. “Right this way.” He closed the door behind him and then led you down the long hallway that acted as the entranceway before spilling out into a rather lavishly decorated and open floor plan. You briefly considered how many rooms the house had before realizing it was probably too many to count from this juncture.

“The Colonel is waiting in the office.” The man said, interrupting your thoughts as he led you and Pierce down another hall towards a beautiful sculpted oak door.

“What about Mr Presley?” You asked without thinking.

“Elvis will be down shortly.” He replied, once again with a lopsided grin before he knocked on the door to the office and pushed it open. “Colonel? Those two journalists from the Los Angeles Sentinel are here.”

“Send them in.” You heard a strange sounding voice say from inside the office.

The man stepped aside, letting Pierce and you step into the room. Your gaze immediately fell upon the robust man sitting at the desk, a large almost comical sized cigar sticking out of his mouth, and a stylish looking barét that clashed with the rest of his ensemble. His steely gaze landed on both you and Pierce the moment you stepped into the room, regarding the two of you with a frown before he removed his cigar and put it out in the ash tray.

Pierce glanced at you, giving a look that said more than enough, before looking at the somewhat unsettling man. “Uh, you must be Mr Parker–”

“Colonel.” The man huffed, his accent a strange mix of southern and something else you couldn't quite identify.

“Excuse me?” Pierce asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Colonel Tom Parker.” The man repeated himself before smiling, though it seemed off and not at all genuine.

Pierce cleared his throat. “Right. Colonel Parker. My name is Steven Pierce, I'm the editor of the LA Sentinel. We spoke over the phone a few times.” He said before gesturing to you. “This is my associate, Minnie Jones. She's one of my best photographers and the one responsible for the portfolio I sent you.” He explained.

The Colonel glanced your way, regarding you for a long moment. If you weren't self conscious already, you certainly were now, but you refused to let yourself show how nervous you were.

“Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you.” You said, stepping forward and extending your hand for him to shake.

The Colonel snorted, which struck you immediately as rude, but he shook your hand regardless. You did your best to hide your frown, making sure this man didn't pick up on your displeasure at his general demeanor. “I have to say, Miss Jones, I'm quite impressed with your photos here.” He said as he sat back in his seat, opening up a binder in front of him. “I can't say I was super eager at the idea of someone following my boy around, least of all someone working for a lousy tabloid. But it seems like any publicity is good publicity, my dear.”

You glanced at Pierce for a moment, quickly registering the anger that flashed across his face, before cutting in. “Yes, well…I think this could be very beneficial for Mr Presley. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words. And with all due respect, the LA Sentinel is a newspaper, not a tabloid. We just want to publish the truth, not lies.” You said calmly.

"Truth is subjective.” The Colonel shot back. “But it's true that my boy needs some good publicity. After all, a good thing can't last forever.” He said before standing up. “I'll make it simple for you, Miss Jones. All photos taken must be submitted and approved by me before printing. If I find out they're not, you won't have a story to tell anymore.” He said bluntly.

You swallowed a bit before nodding.

“Secondly, Elvis appreciates his privacy as you might imagine, so you will be working according to his schedule and his requests. Simply put, if he doesn't want you there, you won't be there.” He said as he picked up his cigar and stuck it back between his lips.

That's when Pierce cut in. “With all due respect, Colonel, my employee isn’t going to work at the whim of your client. This is still a job at the end of the day.” You shoot him a glare, not wanting him to ruin the opportunity for you, even if you knew he was right.

“Don't worry, Mr Peers,” The Colonel said, purposely mispronouncing his name, “Miss Jones will be accommodated, but if you two want the story you're looking for, you'll have to work with my boy’s fluctuating schedule.” He explained. “That won't be a problem, will it?”

Before Pierce could say anything, you stepped forward. “Of course not. I'm sure we can work with whatever his schedule may be.” You said firmly.

“Good.” The Colonel smiled, much to Pierce's chagrin. “We’ll write up a proper contract with all the logistics before you leave, but I think now is a great time for you to meet Elvis.”

Suddenly all your nerves instantly returned, but before you had much time to even think about what was happening, the Colonel was walking out the door and down the hall. Both you and Pierce quickly followed, keeping with his surprisngly fast pace as he limped with his cane towards the living room area you had passed by earlier.

“Minn, are you sure about this?” Pierce hissed by your ear as he leaned over to you. “This isn't exactly what I thought you were signing up for.”

You looked up at him, biting your lip for a second before nodding, standing firm with your decision. “C’mon, Pierce. We both know this is too good to pass up.” You whispered before the three of you entered the room.

The man who had let you into the house earlier was there with a couple of other guys you hadn't seen. You saw that Elvis wasn't there, frowning a bit as you folded your arms and looked at the Colonel. “Where's Mr Presley?” You asked, feeling a little impatient and maybe a little excited.

“Right here, honey.”

You froze, goosebumps rolling over your skin for some inexplicable reason, as if some kind of force you didn't recognize had suddenly entered the room. You slowly turned around, coming face to face with the most famous man in the world.

Shit.

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

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list ~

Taglist: @60svintage @moonchild-daniella @ken-kenzie-zie

[statementlou]

ZAYN'S FIRST TOUR I can’t believe it’s over guys… like not only my shows, but also the WHOLE TOUR, it’s like a double punch, that was so fucking fun!! But also it’s just the fucking start, by the end he was having so much FUN, we’ve really got him hooked and cleansed of his demons now yall, it is ON and I’m so excited. It was weird having tickets first to the opening show of the whole tour, and then it got changed to somewhere in the middle, and then it got changed again to the LAST two shows of tour, a whole rollercoaster, and not getting the opening show after all was disappointing but in the end I loved getting to go to the end of it. I loved watching the lives- starting out saying, oh I’ll just watch the first one probably, but then it was so good and he ended up being so much fun that I just didn’t want to miss a thing, and the change from start to finish… honestly mind blowing. I went on the first SF night with fellow livestream gang girlie @justanothershadeofblue but also with @uhoh-but-yeah-alright and @homosociallyyours who had not been watching the lives or videos at all, didn’t know the setlist, etc, and seeing him up there just ON FIRE, yelling and bouncing and chatting, so outgoing and excited and comfortable laughing and teasing and playing off the crowd and hitting every mark… I could say to them, wow at the beginning he was so nervous and awkward and mumbly and would mess up and have to be like oh uh can we restart that song all the time and didn't interact with the crowd at all, this is really different, but how can anyone really believe that when he’s just owning the space and yelling FUUUUCK YEAH!! every couple minutes at the top of his lungs?? Incredible!! The BLOSSOMING we've witnessed these last few months has been a fucking gift, for real, I'm so proud and happy for him.

Anyway more specific show thoughts: I danced and waved my arms around like an absolute idiot the whole time it was great, he was SO FUNNY and fun, the energy feedback loop of him getting so excited by us being hype and it feeling so good to make him so happy and getting even more hype, SO FUN, I loved that he seemed to be genuinely excited by the idea of San Francisco for whatever reason even if he did call it San Fran about 8000 times like a giant nerd, like I’m very lucky to live somewhere where I get to see them at all but after how Harry and Louis for example play out in the outlying areas and plus treat Bay Area shows as an afterthought to deal with on their way to LA it felt really nice, and I also felt super blessed to get to go to the end of the zour because although throughout he had struggled some with learning to sing SO MUCH AT A TIME without losing his voice (Zayn HIRE HELENE) and had to be conscious of that, on that final night he didn’t have to worry and just went for it and it was EVERYTHING, and! Most important of all! Even though at least for me I think night one was superior on night two the most important thing of all happened, something I will treasure forever even though I didn’t get it on video and didn’t even realize what I was experiencing until right after it happened: I, bander, was in the room when Zayn Malik said my favorite Zayn Malikism of all time right there in front of my salad, I experienced the beloved WHOOPSEH DAISEH with my own two ears!! So grateful, so zlessed, life is good! He also said vas happening but idk what to tell you, I’m a whooseh daiseh girlie forever I loved every minute of this tour, and can’t wait for the shows coming up, and also the circumstances were so shit and it doesn’t make Liam’s death any less tragic nor have I forgotten: but I am really glad that as a fandom we got something nice and fun and happy during this time, we really needed that. Was thinking last night though about how when we got the tickets for this Megan and I were like holy shit we never thought Zayn would tour, now we really will get to see 5/5 playing solo shows together, we’ll just need to go see Liam sometime after this…. it’ll be 4/5 forever now. But not the 4 you would have guessed a year ago, and I am truly happy for Zayn that he's been able to feel the joy of performing again, and in a lot of ways probably for the first time it's been like this.

[hers-underwraps]

Does barnacles have rizz (aaa sorry this question is dumb)

I mean he clearly he had enough to rizz you up

Ok but jokes aside yes he does have rizz but it's a different type from Dashi's IMO.

I feel like his rizz exists more outside to the viewers than in the show. With the examples I used for Dashi her "rizz" could be clearly be perceived as "romantic" by the audience with little debate as what the character's feelings were. This isn't always the case for Barnacles.

I feel like one of the common debates about Barnacles within the community about whether he can/should be shipped with anyone within the show which I believe stems from the way his actions and intentions are perceived.

Barnacles is brave. He's kind, incredibly selfless and he's also a little dorky. He's also got a strong physical presence and is shown protecting other several times throughout the show. He's also very empathetic, he's a good problem solver and an excellent leader. All of these aspects make him a very comforting character.

These qualities in someone you consider romantically are very comforting; they provide a sense of security. Especially when comparing it to the real world, since in reality people are usually lacking in these qualities. He’s also very charming, heroic and masculine which are qualities that we as a society “swoon” over. Hence there is a large portion of fans who idolise him romantically because he is the "ideal" man.

However, a lot of his qualities are also quite similar to that of a parental figure or even a quality human being. Unfortunately, in reality, people are also lacking in these qualities. Some men are physically strong but lack empathy and depth, or excellent leaders who will berate their teams behind the scenes or people who were supposed to be there for you and provide security and comfort but were unreliable and fell short. These issues are heavily present in both a romantic/nonromantic context.

People cling to Barnacles for comfort in the way that best suits them which then changes how his actions are perceived.

There's also his character to take into consideration. Someone like Dashi being intentionally rizzful suits with her as a character as she is often outgoing, laid-back and fun. I genuinely can't imagine Barnacles hitting up anyone with a one-liner or being like "hey bbg" which is what people would classify as classic"rizz" (which I can totally see Dashi doing)

He's a nice person and sincere by nature. I can imagine if you were his coworker and if he was constant looking at you with caring eyes, nonchalantly saving your life at the expense of his own and always believing in you it could easily be perceived as romantic. However his intentions aren't, he just does it because he's a good person.

I can imagine people falling in love with him or professing their love and he would just be confused because he wasn't trying to be a rizzler, his actions and aura are just rizzful. He also seems like the kind of guy who would be oblivious about his own feelings for another and would take a long time to process whether he like LIKE's someone but by the time he's realised it's really easy to transfer his intentions from platonic to romantic because he's naturally acting that way already. That's the type of rizz Barnacles has.

You were probably looking for a silly answer but logistcially speaking I'd say that Barnacles absolutely has rizz

[someobscurereference]

Insane over the awakening trio again. We fought a war together, saved each other multiple times, and I know for a fact I can trust you with my life. We have never learned to socialize normally so we can't interact in a normal environment for five seconds without dunking on each other. I would follow you through time and space and abandon everything with you. You are the living reminder of every awful thing that have ever happened to me. Our traumas make us hurt each other at every turn. We're the only ones who know what lead to each other becoming Like That. Our jobs are barely in the same area and we don't even hang out that much outside of necessities. You are all I have left. I cannot fucking understand you. I am the only one in this entire world who has the ability to even try to.

x

[seilon]

love when this is referred to as the gifted kid website. shockingly my mental disorders made me mentally disordered and school never really vibed with that so. couldn’t be me

[truthsinwhispers]

.

[britneyshakespeare]

me: you can't save me... Night Crawling by Miley Cyrus featuring Billy Idol: yes I can. I'm Night Crawling by Miley Cyrus featuring Billy Idol.

[amerie-wadia]

.

[isaacathom]

im finding that often when i stay up later than usual (like, until 3am instead of 1) my brain goes 'hey wanna think about hornblower again' and like. yes. but also ?? you still havent read commodore, you havent read or watched anything since late feb/early march, and you havent even really read any fanfic in that time bc you ""exhausted"" the specific sort of thing you like to read. what is FUELLING this???

[bejeweledmp3]

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[solalunar-eclipse]

To everyone in the comments begging for a fic about this: PLEASE go read Heart of Gold with Blood-Red Eyes!!! It’s by this artist and features Shadow in a similar dynamic with Fleetway Super Sonic, and it is fantastic.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[3nderstar]

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