#but some elvis songs sound so familiar to me

[hooked-on-elvis]

One of my absolute favorite of Elvis' songs ♥

"Runaway" (Live, 1969)

[frnchgirls]

rubberneckin'

eddie munson x benny cross x reader

summary: when you finally meet benny, a friend and client of your mechanic boyfriend, eddie, the three of you make some self-discoveries, and discoveries of another kind.

wc: 3.7k

warnings: 18+, nsfw!, filth with plot, unprotected sex, finishing inside, threesome :]

a/n: my first full-length fic! thank you so much to @themorriganisamonster for posting this idea <3 it was too unique to pass up!! also big thanks to @steph-speaks for giving me a hand along the way! title inspired by the elvis song with the same name.

the white wicker armchair under the awning of eddie's porch acts as the perfect place to hide away from the scorching august sun. it's where you've been seated for the past half hour, sipping from a glass of lemonade that's sweating just as much as you are. you huff as the droplets of condensation fall from the base of the cup and onto your lap, dampening the fabric of your dress. it isn't that big of a deal, the moisture would probably evaporate the second you step out from the shade, but the sight of your wet hands acts as a reminder of the slick discomfort growing between your thighs. you stand and head for the front door, flushed and eager to get back in the air conditioning.

that is, until the distant rumble of an engine disrupts the dull chatter of cicadas, stopping you in your tracks.

your head whips around to locate the origin of the noise. it grows closer, louder, quickening your heartbeat like the soundtracks of those horror pictures your boyfriend's always forcing you to watch. you've been to his house enough times to be familiar with the tunes of the neighborhood; the bark of the byers' dog, the ringing of bells on bicycles, and the hum of steve's bmw. but this sound is unfamiliar, it doesn't fit in with the rest of the domestic hubbub. and the culprit turns the street corner.

it's a motorcycle, painted cherry red and mounted by two men. the rider is older, indicated by the grey streaks in his stubble and wrinkles on his skin. even his button-up and denim jacket remind you of your father. the passenger must be closer to your age, skin smooth aside from some sparse facial hair. his dirty blonde locks whip in the breeze as they pull in front of the house, and the duo exchange a few remarks before he throws a leg over, hopping off the bike.

he makes his way to you, hands stuffed in his pockets, and his expression is unreadable. forget the ac, his blue-eyed gaze chills you to the bone. he stops and plants his feet just in front of the curb.

"you eddie's girl?" he questions, voice gravelly as he tilts his head in your direction. how does he know? oh god, did that moron finally get himself into trouble selling dope? the menacing patches on the stranger's vest do little to quiet your thoughts. "who's askin'?" you retort, and he feigns hurt, clutching at his black tee in the spot where his heart would be. "he didn't tell ya about me?" he searches your face for a sign of deception, but there isn't one. you're just peering down at him from the top of the porch steps and shaking your head. "i'm benny, friend of his. came here to check on my bike."

his words have you breathing a sigh of relief. eddie was pretty behind on his work, hence why he was holed up in the backyard and not there spending time with you. benny's story was entirely plausible, and you were almost certain you saw a chopper just like the one he rode in on the last time you checked on your boyfriend.

"well, eddie's real busy right now. his uncle's van broke down yesterday and that's been his priority. family advantage, y'know." you explain, shifting your weight between your heels. benny's all too quick to reply, "i thought i was family." and you almost laugh. he sure is confident; cocky, even, but he seems nice enough. "your bike's in good hands." you reassure him. his eyes rake over your form, fingertips grazing his bottom lip. "looks like it." he says, and his unabashed flirtation makes you gulp.

you wonder if you should acknowledge it or just change the subject; tell him you'll let eddie know he came by and have him give him a call. thankfully, you don't have to make that decision. the rider breaks the silence, calling out to benny, "c'mon kid. we gotta go." and the blonde claps his hands together before slowly backing up. "i'll see you thursday." he declares, and you find yourself once again at a loss for words. benny turns, strutting back to the bike, and it's as if the skull on the spine of his jacket acts as a symbol of your fate.

you watch as the pair take off, and he glances at you over his shoulder more times than is socially acceptable before he's out of sight. the whole interaction has you furrowing your brow as you retrieve your forgotten drink and trudge back inside. to your surprise, eddie walks through the back door just seconds after you, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a black and white bandana.

"hey, baby." he hums, expression softening as you come into view. you discard your half-empty cup on the counter and approach him, mustering a smile. "hi." you respond, and eddie can tell something's not right. there's a vacantness in your eyes, like you're there with him physically but not so much mentally. "you okay?" he asks. you're eager to nod, "yeah, everything's fine." but he knows you. "are ya sure? cause, i think you're a liar." he half-jokes, hands cupping your cheeks, "and i'm gonna get the truth out of you if it's the last thing i do."

before you can fully process his words, he's leaning in to kiss you, sweat-soaked hair tickling your skin and making you giggle against his lips. your protests are muffled as he persists, pecking all over your face until you finally manage to break away. "how many times do i gotta tell ya to tie your hair back when you're workin'?" you groan, wiping your neck with the back of your hand. eddie just smiles, waiting. try all you might, he's not moving on until you tell him what's up.

you sigh at his determination. "okay, fine. that guy who just came by, benny, why didn't ya tell me about him?" you ask, and upon hearing his name, eddie's breath hitches. "benny was here? what- what did he say?" excitement drips from his words, and if they didn't know any better, someone might think he was asking about a damn celebrity. you bite your lip as you recall, "i dunno, just that he was checkin' on his bike." he nods, averting his gaze before evading, "well, you know i don't like talking about clients."

yet, just the other night, eddie had rambled on for at least an hour about jason carver trying to rip him off over car parts.

you decide not to pry further, walking over to the fridge to fetch him a beer while he takes a break from rotating tires and what not. you're determined to figure out what's really going on for yourself, even more so when you hand him the drink and remember out loud, "oh, he told me he was comin' by again on thursday." eddie nearly chokes on his sip. he doesn't believe you, thinks you're fucking with him. you promise that you're not.

this new information sends him into a panic.

just when you were starting to think he was dragging his feet finishing up his work on wayne's van, he gets it all done within the next few hours. and the following day, he focuses all of his attention on benny's black bike. every time you check in with him, you swear he's going over the same things again and again.

"eddie, i thought you tightened that twenty minutes ago." you tell him in the afternoon. "baby, how many times are you gonna paint over that scuff?" you ask in the evening. he just brushes it off, using the excuse that he needs everything to be perfect. eddie sends you away to bring him a tool from the garage that he doesn't even have so he can get you off his back.

thursday rolls around, and your boyfriend's knee is bouncing like a basketball as the two of you wait on the porch for benny's arrival. you don't think you've ever seen him this nervous, and you scold him when he lifts a hand to his mouth and goes to bite his nails. it's a bad habit you were sure you had already weaned him off, until now. before you get the chance to start a petty argument about it, your ears prick up on a now familar rumble. you smirk a little as eddie's eyes light up and he fixes his posture. who knew some guy was all it took to have him acting proper?

benny turns the corner, sitting pretty behind the rider on the back of that red bike, and your boyfriend springs to his feet when they park in the driveway. the blonde waves to his friend after he gets off and watches him speed away. "you two look good together." are the first words he mumbles as he fishes a cigarette out of his pocket. you blush. you know you're in for quite the morning. "one of ya got a light?" benny adds, and eddie practically jumps over the porch steps with a zippo in hand.

you don't pay much attention to their discussion; you just follow them to the shop in the back and watch. eddie's smiling so hard, you're sure his cheeks must hurt, and he stares a little too long at the bob of benny's adam's apple as he takes a swig of beer. worst of all, you notice the way he adjusts himself in his pants when his friend manspreads in a folding chair. the realization hits you like a truck.

eddie likes him. and you're starting to think you might, too.

benny vows to return the next day with payment and departs on his newly repaired bike without a hitch. you and your boyfriend are left alone at the kitchen table, prodding at the food on your plates with your utensils as an air of tension builds between the two of you. the urge to confront him itches like a rash, and before you know it, you're putting down your fork and lifting your head.

"i see the way you look at him." you confess, and your voice shakes. eddie's stunned, lips parted and staring back at you with those big doe eyes you'd grown to love. you feel the same way about them, even now. "you can't pretend you don't like him. and if ya don't like him, you at least want him." your boyfriend clears his throat. fuck, what does he say? what can he say without losing his girlfriend and his friend all at once? he needs you. both of you.

"jesus h. christ." he groans, reaching up to hide his face in his hands, but you lean over the table and catch his wrist. "hey, i'm not mad, y'know. just want you to be honest so i can help ya." you say in an attempt to comfort him, and he flashes you a lopsided grin. "right, and how exactly are you gonna do that?" his ignorance has you shaking your head. "by telling him. i mean, what's the worst that can happen? bet ya fifty bucks he already knows."

eddie lets out a dramatic gasp, taking a piece of broccoli between his ringed fingers. "what're you trying to say?" he asks, and you chuckle as you lift your hands up in defense. "i'm tryin' to say that you're obvious. and besides, just look at 'em. people crushin' on him is somethin' he's gotta be used to by now." your boyfriend rises from his seat with a smirk and pelts you with his vegetables. "i am not obvious!" he exclaims, and you squeal as you duck for cover and run away. "i think we should have a threesome!" you call out from the end of the hall, and that's enough to make him chase you into the bedroom and retire for the evening.

the next night, you're chatting with eddie while he lubes up the brakes on billy's camaro when benny stops by. just as promised, he has the money and tosses the wad of cash on the tool bench with a thud. "want some help?" he asks, blinking down at your boyfriend's obscured boots through his lashes. he doesn't wait for him to respond, scooping up a glob of grease with his hand before sliding in under the front bumper. the sight of them shoulder to shoulder in the confined space of the car's undercarriage warms your face.

the threesome idea had been on your mind the entire day. you knew you were gonna bring it up with benny, you just didn't know when. was now as good a time as any? he could leave as soon as he finished helping, and what would you do then? your mouth moves faster than your brain, and soon you're blurting, "benny, we have somethin' to ask you." you're pretty sure you hear eddie drop a socket, but you can't tell from this angle.

"we do?" he pipes up. you watch benny shift a little next to him. "eddie and i were wondering if you wanted to have a threesome." you don't even finish your sentence before chaos ensues. "nope, nope. that was all her idea." your boyfriend asserts, scrambling out from under the car. benny does the same, just with more leisure. "ya don't wanna fuck me, munson?" he interrogates, and you know he's doing it just to get him flustered. your smirk matches his own.

"no! i mean- yes, but-" the blonde interjects before he can babble any further, "okay. why not?" eddie looks at benny, then he looks at you. "you guys are serious." he grumbles, running a hand over his face. "well, i'm gonna need a minute, y'know. i've gotta shower and clean my room and-" benny interrupts him again, "you shouldn't keep your girl waitin'. she don't mind if we do it here. don't you, pretty?" the nickname has you biting your lip and obediently shaking your head.

your boyfriend lets out a chuckle of unease. "look at us, we're filthy." he gestures to their grease-coated hands and the dirt on their clothes. benny ignores him. "give her a kiss." he commands, and eddie's legs carry him to you. he presses his lips to yours. it's gentle, safe. his hands hover over your forearms, not quite touching you. "you call that a kiss?" benny scoffs, and eddie breaks the contact to glance at him. the blonde strides over, gripping the back of his neck and kissing him forcefully.

it's sloppy, benny's plush lips completely engulfing eddie's. you can hear wet smacks as the two collide and pull apart. at one point, benny bites down on your boyfriend's bottom lip, eliciting a deep grunt from the back of his throat. you conceal a moan. "show her what you just learned." benny hums, detaching himself. eddie's frazzled, pupils blown wide as he does what he's told, moving to replicate the kiss on you. the blonde seats himself on the hood of billy's car, watching as you're caressed with a newfound confidence.

eddie's hands fondle your ass, slipping under the skirt of your dress to plant oily prints on your cheeks. the sticky feeling has you clenching around nothing, pressing your chest to his as his tongue laps at the seam of your mouth. benny's jaw clenches and he palms himself through his jeans at the view. "c'mere. strip her f'me." he orders, unzipping his pants while your boyfriend yanks your dress over your head. the direct contact of the cold air on your skin makes you shiver.

benny notices. "lemme warm you up." he whispers and wraps his arms around you to pull you between his legs. one hand grips the back of your thigh while the other cups the underside of your breast. benny sucks a nipple into his mouth, laving his tongue over the hardened bud, and your knees might have given out if it weren't for him holding you up. eddie just stands there, dazed and growing harder by the second while thinks about hargrove killing him when he finds out what they're doing on his car.

the blonde pushes his boxers down before separating from you and instructing, "gonna have ya get this dick nice 'n ready for him." as the words are spoken, you look down and catch a glimpse of him. benny's as long as he is thick, with a single vein running along his shaft, and there's a nest of brassy hair at the base that's sure to tickle your nose when he hits the back of your throat. with that thought, you waste no time in getting on your knees to taste him.

eddie reaches for his waistband in an attempt to relieve the throbbing in his pants. "did i give you permission to touch yourself?" his friend barks, and he whines, clasping his hands together behind his back. "atta' boy." benny growls, lowering his head to watch as your mouth bobs up and down on him. the sounds you make together are obscene. the squelching of your spit acts as background noise to his pornographic groans. he forces himself to pull you off when his hips begin to jerk involuntarily. he's sure his dick is more than wet enough now.

"lay on your back." benny huffs, lifting himself off the car and gesturing between you and the hood with his thumb. you comply, pressing your thighs together as your rear hits the freezing aluminum. "take your clothes off. all of them." benny grumbles, spinning to face eddie, and your boyfriend dares to protest. "it's like sixty degrees out, man. i could just-" the blonde gets right in his face. "do it because i told you to." he explains through gritted teeth, and eddie lets out a shaky breath, tearing off his clothes in a hurry.

his friend's eyes light up with satisfaction. "stand between us, so i can fuck you while ya fuck her." he wiggles a finger between the three of you, and another complaint dies in eddie's throat. he doesn't want to find out what'll happen if he tests his patience. your boyfriend settles in front of you, placing a soothing kiss to your knee. opening your legs, he curses under his breath at the sight, "jesus christ, baby." benny peeks over his shoulder and chimes in, "her panties are soaked." eddie nudges the garment to the side and slides the tip of his cock between your folds.

he shudders, not only at the feeling of what he's doing to you, but also at the feeling of what benny's doing to him. "you ever put anything in here, munson?" the blonde questions, circling his friend's hole with the pad of his thumb. eddie offers you an almost apologetic glance. "yeah, yeah. uh, i have." he murmurs, and you can hear the other grin behind him when he responds, "good. guess i don't need to waste time stretchin' ya out." the words are followed by the sound of benny hawking a glob of spit into his hand, slathering it on his shaft and mixing it in with yours.

"wait- i-" eddie tries to object, but he cuts himself off with a strangled sob as his friend bottoms out inside of him in a single, fluid motion. it might be the most delicious sound you've ever heard. the intrusion has him lurching forward, palms flying to the metal on either side of your head. your breathing staggers at the sudden movement, and you lift your hands to his tattooed chest to hold him steady. "you're- an- asshole." your boyfriend grunts between thrusts, now being fucked by benny at a ninety-degree angle.

the blonde laughs, really laughs for the first time since you met him and says, "pretty sure that's you, big guy." eddie scowls, proceeding to take his frustrations out on your pussy as he slams into you. benny's thrusts just intensify the strength of his, and you compulsively wrap your legs around the two of them. eddie tries to keep a steady pace, but it's so hard when his ass is being pounded and his brain is going a little numb. his clumsiness doesn't escape his friend's attention.

"tell your little boyfriend to fuck you right." benny urges you, punctuated by giving the aforementioned a sharp spank. eddie hisses at the contact and doesn't stop when you reach up to tug on his shaggy hair. you're not sure what comes over you. perhaps just as benny was what eddie needed to start acting right, he's what you needed to find your voice. "better find a fuckin' rhythm, munson." you snarl, fingernails digging into his scalp, and like the flip of a switch, he does exactly that.

with both of their thrusts now in sync, it's not long before their moans grow higher in pitch, signifying their impending release. "shit, shit- benny, oh god- i'm gonna-" eddie whines, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching around his friend's cock. he wants to pull out, knows he should, but the blonde's tan frame meanly traps him inside your cunt. "i'm sorry, 'm so sorry. fuck, baby." your boyfriend whimpers, spurting thick ropes of cum into your womb. little does he know, the way he throbs and pumps his warm fluid inside you is enough to send you over the edge.

you and benny groan in unison, with him able to pull out in time and release over his fist. "oh, that was fuckin' good. who knew you were gonna be so tight?" he quips, and you fall into a fit of giggles, his friend's words making eddie blush even more than he was before, if that were possible. the blonde wipes his soiled hand on his shirt and helps you up with his clean one, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you lean into him. "guess we'll have to switch places next time, hm?"

your gaze meets eddie's, and the two of you exchange a look of surprise. "there's gonna be a next time?" he asks, voice tinged with uncertainty. benny dodges the question with a grin before asking one himself, "hey, how big is your shower?"

turns out there would be a next time, and it might be coming sooner than you thought.

[srbachchan]

DAY 5919

StWork, Mumbai May 2, 2024 Thu 12:49 PM

Birthday - EF - Elena Iankova Friday, 3 May .. and all our wishes for a happy birthday

🌹

Yo !

here before time for a very big change .. haha ..

but at work and got a bit of time and BOOM !

got to say the travel from Juhu home to work Marine Drive in 30 mins .. amazing Coastal Road and the Tunnel emerging on Marine Drive , just before its flyover and simply amazing .. !

Super constructed roads, tunnel, neat clean construct .. no traffic jams .. and done ..

Ok just to change the topic .. here is something to know :

Know what is a "mondegreen?'

MONDEGREENS

If you’ve been listening to rock music, you know it’s often hard to make out the lyrics. They sing it their way and we hear it our way.

Jimi Hendrix famously sang the phrase “While I kiss the sky” which was heard by thousands as “While I kissed this guy.”

CCR’s popular song originally said, “There’s a bad moon on the rise.” Many heard it as “There’s a bathroom on the right.”

Deep Purple’s still-popular chorus (known for its timeless guitar riff) “Smoke on the water/Fire in the sky” was misheard as “Smoke on the water/Fire engine guy.”

Nirvana’s anthem “Smells like Teen Spirit” had the lines, “Here we are now/Entertain us.” They were misheard as, “Here we are now/In containers.”

When Elvis Presley sang, “Everybody in the whole cell block”, many heard it as” Everybody in a wholesale frock”

There’s actually a word for misheard lyrics like these.

Mondegreen.

Some mondegreens became so famous that even artistes like Hendrix and CCR sang the misheard versions in their live concerts in a spirit of fun and tease.

It’s not just in pop songs that mondegreens occur. The US national anthem begins with the lofty words, “Oh say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light.’ Some heard them as “José, can you see…”

Occasionally, mondegreens had an interesting side-effect. Joe Cocker sang of a ‘lovely planet’ which was misheard as ‘lonely planet.’ The latter became the name of a well-known travel guide series of books.

No one knows why we hear the wrong thing although there are theories. It’s akin to the game of Chinese Whispers where the original line gets progressively distorted into some hilarious garbage by the time it reaches the last guy.

Mondegreens are not restricted to English alone. South Indians, with limited knowledge of Hindi, were taught patriotic songs in Hindi by zealous teachers. A popular one had the repeating phrase, “Bara tamata.” School students sang it with great gusto. Years later, some of them realized the actual words were “Bharat Mata.”

A popular line from Qurbani song, “Aap jaisa koi meri/zindagee mein aaye/ toh baat bun jaaye” was understood as “Aap jaisa koi…toh baap bun jaaye.” The defective version made sense to many who saw Zeenat Aman gyrating on those lyrics while gaping at Feroz Khan.

Many who weren’t familiar with the hill station between Bombay and Pune heard the Gulaami song as “Haathi ka andaa la” until they realized it was “Aati kya Khandala”.

I have a friend, her name is Geeta. Her family called her Gitu. Throughout her childhood and youth, she thought Rajesh Khanna was singing for her, when he said, ”Mere sapnon ki raani kab aaye Gitu”.

'Mondegreen' sounds French but isn't. In 1954, a writer at Harper’s Magazine remembered how as a little girl she misheard an old English ballad. The actual words, saluting a dead war hero, were:

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘭 𝘰' 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯.

She heard them as:

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘭 𝘰' 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯.

And thus was born the word ‘mondegreen’ to signify all misheard lyrics from that moment on.

Turns out, mondegreen itself started life as a mondegreen.

sent to me by a friend .. 🤣🤣

More perhaps later .. or perhaps not ..

Amitabh Bachchan

and some more .. a very pertinent article in TOI ..

[bavariansugarcookie]

“It’s hot in here,” Steph said, fanning herself with her hand. 

“Going dancing was your idea,” Tim reminded her, laughing when Steph rolled her eyes at him. 

“Someone’s gotta make sure you have fun once in a while,” she said. Before Tim could argue, the song changed and Steph caught his hand. “We have to dance to this song,” she said, abandoning her half-finished drink on the bar. Tim managed to get the rest of his drink in his mouth instead of down his dress just in time for Steph to drag him onto the dance floor. 

It was easier on the dance floor – Tim could let his body move to the music, hanging onto Steph’s hand so he wouldn’t lose her in the crowd. The bass thrummed in his rib cage as he scream-sang the words, letting the music wash away Timothy Drake-Wayne and Red Robin, until he was just a girl in a purple dress, dancing with his best friend.

As the song changed to a slower beat, the crowd started drifting away as people headed to the bathroom or the bar. “That was great,” Steph said, but her eyes went wide as she looked over Tim’s shoulder, as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Steph?” Tim asked, and she gave him a blinding paparazzi smile. 

Before he could turn and see what had Steph so spooked, he heard a familiar voice drawl, “Hey there, Princess.”

 His instinct was to tense up, to go on the defensive, but he forced his shoulders to stay loose as he turned. “Hi, Jason.”

Jason grinned down at him, and annoyingly the leather jacket didn’t look out of place with all the rainbows and glitter and lace. “Sorry, could you remind me your name again?”

Stephanie caught Tim’s arm and leaned in, her voice bright. “This is my friend, Tiffany.”

“Nice to see you again, Tiffany,” Jason said and Tim was surprised that he sounded sincere. Who would’ve thought that Jason Todd could have manners?

“You ladies busy tonight?” Jason asked, and suddenly Jason’s strange lack of snide comments made sense. He thought they were there for a case.

Tim was about to make up a story about tracking a dealer selling tainted product, but before he could, Steph said, “Not tonight, we’re just blowing off steam.” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you busy tonight?”

Jason shook his head slowly, and that was more surprising than anything. Jason in his leather jacket and combat boots, at the Pink Pony Club, for… fun? Steph’s eyebrows shot up, but she just smiled and said, “We were just about to get a drink, if you’d like to join us.”

He was going to say no. There was no way in hell that Jason Todd would say yes to a drink with Tim. But he just said, “Sure thing, Blondie,” and followed them to the bar. 

“Steph,” Tim hissed, and she gave him a cheshire cat smile as she leaned over the bar to order something with watermelon. Tim ordered the same drink with the plum and ginger beer, and Jason pulled out his card and ordered a drink with pineapple and habanero.

“I’ve got this round,” he said, and Tim murmured a thank you while Steph smiled.

“Isn’t he a gentleman, Tiffany?” she asked and Tim shot her a look.

Before Tim could answer, the bartender handed Jason his drink, which had several slices of habanero floating innocently in the glass. “That’s brave,” Steph said. “They aren’t kidding about the heat,” and Jason chuckled. 

“I was gonna order the Elvis is dead,” he said, grinning ear to ear when Tim rolled his eyes. “But banana brandy was a bridge too far for a joke.”

Tim laughed despite himself and Steph’s smile was entirely too knowing. Tim tried to think of something to say, or something to do (he still didn’t know what to do with his hands) when the bartender came to the rescue with Tim’s drink. He took the drink with a smile and immediately took the opportunity to hide his face behind the cup. 

Steph got her drink, complete with a fancy umbrella, and Tim said, “What, the rum sunscreen didn’t do it for you?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Just because some of us never want to try new things…” she said, and Tim flushed, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“I know what I like,” he said, swiping his thumb through the condensation on his glass.

Steph rolled her eyes. “I had to drag her away from her computer today,” she said to Jason. “She’s going to be as much of a workaholic as B soon.”

“That’s both impressive and terrifying,” Jason said. “B tried to get me up to speed on the family business, but I was never much for numbers.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “You seem to be doing alright for yourself, from what I’ve heard.” 

Jason smirked, shrugged. “I’m doing alright. I don’t have a fancy office like you, though.”

“You should see her home office,” Steph chirped. “It’s horrifying. Like something from a movie about a supervillain hacking all the security cameras in town.”

“Oh really?” Jason asked. “I’ve been needing to upgrade my system for a while, think I could get some IT support?”

Tim hummed. “It depends. You gonna moonlight as a supervillain?”

“You know me, I like to keep my options open,” Jason said with a wolfish grin, and Tim laughed. Steph sipped her drink, her eyes bouncing between them like she was watching a particularly tense tennis match.

(ETA it's on AO3 if you'd like to read the whole thing)

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 11 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, angst, mentions of blood/gore 🩸

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: Hello everyone!

Welcome to part 11! I couldn't stop writing these last few days and needed to share with you all what happens next🤭 It's a bit shorter but I wanted to break up this part up accordingly. I love this pic of him here and the red glare makes me giggle.

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the begining, start here 🩸

I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think!🖤

The crunch of leaves under your feet breaks the stillness of the forest. The wind whistles through the trees and brings a slight shiver to you but you don’t mind. The trees break away and a sparse area comes into view. There you see a lone white piano in the middle of the clearing and you grow curious. 

You walk closer to it and that’s when you can hear it playing music with no accompaniment. It’s a familiar tune but you can’t seem to remember the name. The song becomes louder and you look around for any other people around. The wind picks up and you bring your arms up to your chest, hugging them tightly as the temperature begins to drop. 

The notes on the piano become distorted and jumbled no longer the melodious sounds a moment ago. You hear a whisper behind you and snap your body in the direction of the sound, not seeing anything though. You look back at the piano and the keys are slamming down violently, blood starting to come streaming out of the keyboard and the top board. 

You stumble backward, frightened at the sight before you. The blood keeps flowing and reaches your feet, making you scream out in horror. As you’re retreating, your back hits something hard and you grunt at the feeling. 

You turn around to see Elvis’ bright eyes stare down at you and grab onto your shoulders. 

"Run." he growls.

You gasp as you pop open your eyes and revive back into consciousness. You grab at the bed sheets, unaware of where you are. Anna quickly comes rushing to your side and holds your hand. 

“Woah, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m right here,” she assures. “Are you okay?”

You’re not exactly sure how to answer that. The last few hours were a blur for you and you hardly remember getting to Anna’s apartment. You realize you’re in her bedroom with blankets covering your body. 

Your body feels exhausted and soreness spreads along it when you try to move. 

“Woah let’s take it easy. You took quite a fall,” she says softly. 

“What time is it?” You grumble, rubbing your eyes. 

“Uhh, one o clock. Honey, what happened? You scared the hell out of me and-and your neck…. What’s going on?” She asks concerned. 

You put your hand over your neck and feel it’s been bandaged. 

“I’m okay. I really can’t tell you about this but I’m fine,” you say referring to your neck. 

“No, you’re not! You come in here bloody and collapse on my floor! When was the last time you slept?!” She presses. 

You stay silent for a moment, trying to figure out when you did get a good night's sleep. 

“Umm, a few days ago…” you say embarrassed. 

Anna covers her eyes and worry shrouds her face. 

“That’s not good! You need to take care of yourself. Does Elvis have something to do with this?” She accuses. 

You look at the ceiling, frustrated with the entire situation. 

It has everything to do with Elvis. 

“It’s not about him. I just need some time and figure things out.”

Anna sighs, frustrated at how you’re deflecting everything. But it’s the only way you know how to. You sure as hell couldn’t tell her that he’s a Vampire and he lost control. It felt wrong to lie to your best friend but this was necessary. You knew you had to protect Elvis’ secret. 

“Did you call out of work?” You ask. 

“Yes of course I did, I was worried sick. I’m not going anywhere til you get better and rest,” she says firmly. 

You nod in agreement, not in the mood to fight. She hands you a glass of water and you take a few sips. 

“Can I take a shower to freshen up? I’ll be fine, I promise I feel a lot better,” you assure her. 

“Yeah, I’ll grab you a towel from the closet,” she says before walking to the other room. 

You shut the bathroom door behind you and flip on the light. There's a full-length mirror in front of you and you unwrap the blanket from yourself. You didn’t want to look at your body at first, you knew what you’d see. 

You look anyway and see the welts that he sucked onto both of your breasts and the marks his hands left as he squeezed your hips tight riding him. 

The more you look at the marks he left behind, the more you can see and feel how those talented hands felt on your body, making you ache for more from him. How he knew just where to touch you and make you feel things you’ve never experienced before. And that mouth of his, it must have been one of your favorite things about him. How it can turn you on with a kiss or eat you out like he was starving for it. 

You snap yourself out of the memories surrounding him and turn on the shower, needing a distraction from your aimless thoughts of him. You’re about to step in when you realize you still have the bandage on your neck. You take a deep breath to rip it off quickly so it doesn’t hurt as much. You close your eyes and rip the bandage off in one swipe. The idea of how your neck looked terrified you, knowing it wasn’t going to be a pretty picture. You open your eyes anyway and assess the damage. 

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion at what you see. The bruise has grown but the bite mark was visibly gone. You lean closer to the mirror to get a better look and swear you could be going crazy. 

There wasn’t even a scab. He never told you how or if a bite from a vampire could heal so quickly. It scared you either way and you wanted answers. You knew that wasn’t going to happen any time soon with Elvis’ lack of control. But you honestly didn’t care. You needed to know. 

You take your time in the shower and let the hot water run down your body. You had to figure out a time to see Elvis and see how he is. You’re sure he felt bad about what he did but there was a lot to talk about like the next steps to get out of your apartment and somewhere away from Daniel.

Everything that’s been going on with Elvis, it felt like part of you was stalling from fully moving out from Daniel’s. For a time, you thought you’d stay with Elvis and have him help you figure things out but now, a lot has changed. You found out the truth about him and you weren’t sure if he could handle you around him all the time. 

But every part of you didn’t want to give up on him. There was no way you could leave him so broken and lonely. He tried so hard to be good. And it was all because of you. He found a reason to try and not be so ravenous. In a way, he made you see more clearly how awful Daniel treated you and how you do deserve better. You borrow some clothes from Anna but you know you need to go to your apartment and pack your stuff up. You also ask her for a scarf, not wanting her to stare at the huge bruise that's sitting there.

You join Anna in the living room and she starts fixing you lunch. She makes you a sandwich and you eat it quickly, not realizing how starving you were. 

You small talk about things and she convinces you to go to a bar with her. She thought it would be a good idea to get your mind off things and honestly, she wasn’t wrong. A distraction was exactly what you needed. 

Her phone suddenly rings and she walks over to answer it. 

“Hello?” She says cheerfully. Her eyebrows suddenly furrow and she shakes her head. 

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

She looks at you confused. 

“It’s for you,” she whispers, taking the receiver off her ear and offering it to you. 

You sit there in shock, not understanding what is going on as you haven’t given anyone Anna’s number to call you on. You take the phone from her and raise it to your ear.

“Hello?” You say unsure. 

“Mr. Presley needs to see you,” the familiar voice grumbles. 

“How did you get this number?” You snap.

“He will not be kept waiting, I suggest you hurry.” The click of the phone ends the call and you look up at Anna perplexed.

“I uh, can you take me to work?” You ask.

“What? Are you insane? No! You really want to go back there and see him?” She accuses.

“Please, I need to go. I’ll be fine I swear,” you assure her.

She huffs in protest, rubbing her temple and shaking her head at you, “let me get my shoes on,” she says frustrated.

You both get in the car and she drops you off in the back of the hotel. Something about it seemed so eerie. You couldn’t quite pinpoint it but deep down, you knew you should not be here. You know you should trust your instincts and stay in the car, but you open the car door anyway and hug Anna.

“Thank you. I’ll be okay and I’ll call you if I need you,” you say, squeezing her hand gently. She nods her head at you and gives you a quick smile.

You make your way through the locker room and up to the elevator. The amount of times this elevator has made you anxious is becoming too much of a regular occurrence.

You get to the penthouse floor and the elevator doors open. You’re scowled at by the same men in the hallway and quickly rush to the suite’s doors. The man standing in front of the door steps aside and opens the door for you. You cautiously step inside and see Elvis at the piano, his back turned away from you. A flashback from your nightmare earlier flashes in your mind and you squeeze your eyes shut to try and get that out of your memory. You continue to stand by the door as you hear it get shut behind you. He’s wearing a midnight blue shirt and black pants with his hair tussled out of place.

His fingers lightly press the keys, not making any particular music but aimlessly touching the key to distract himself from something. You don’t want to say anything, he called for you, not the other way around. You thought for a second he couldn’t stand the sight of you after what happened early this morning. 

He turns his head slightly, his back still facing you, “come here,” he says shortly, his voice raspy.

You can feel your heartbeat grow louder and louder with each footstep you make closer to him. Your instincts told you to run away, there was danger here, but the other side of you knew there wasn’t. You had this unwavering trust in him, one you couldn’t quite explain. You knew there was good within him. He needed someone to help him see that. And you really think you might be able to do it.

You reach the side of him and stop there, waiting for him to say anything else. He’s wearing his sunglasses and is puffing on a cigar. You pinch yourself from staring at him for too long. He was always looking so tempting and your brain always threw the danger out the window when it came to being so close to him. He pulled you in every time even without trying. You notice how abnormally pale he looks today, sickly almost. It was pretty dark in the room so you weren’t sure if your eyes were seeing things. 

“Thank you for coming… how do you feel?” He asks gently, still not looking at you.

“Fine.” You say shortly.

“Don’t lie to me.” He grumbles.

“I’m not, you don’t need to question me like that,” you snap.

He finally snaps his head to you, looking at you with hunger. Your heart leaps out of your chest as he looks at you, not making a move.

“I will do whatever I want.”

“What did you call me in here for?! I don’t think it was to berate me with stupid questions,” you scathe.

He stands up quickly and and points a finger at you.

“When are you going to learn to not speak to me like that?! I will not tolerate it,” he reprimands.

You stay silent, staring at him with a scowling stare.

“What. Did. You. Need.” You say again, “And how did you get Anna’s number?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m not that inconsiderate,” he growls.

“I’m fine, just a bit sore.” You quip.

He hums to himself lightly and circles you slowly, making you wary.

“I called you up here to let you know I won’t need your services for a while,” he explains.

You’re confused and shocked, this felt like he was firing you in a way?

“What? I don’t understand. I-I-I work solely for you. I have no other way of income,” you tell him not understanding what is happening.

“I’ll pay you still don’t worry,” he says shortly.

And then it hits you, his Vegas engagement is going to end soon. He won’t be back til the summer. You didn’t want to wait that long to not see him. You figured you were more to him than just some hook-up.

“Well, how long do you not want me to come by? You leave in a few weeks…” you trail off, not wanting the answer.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly.

You look at him annoyed, shocked he’s treating you like this.

“What do you mean?! Elvis, why does this feel like you’re just pushing me away?” You spat.

“Because I can’t stand to be around you! I can’t do it anymore y/n! Every time I am, I risk hurting you and losing control. Just like I did this morning. I’m not good for you,” he scowls.

Your heart races out of your chest and you look at him in disbelief. You feel the tears well in your eyes and wish you could wake up from such a bad dream.

“Elvis- you, you can’t do this. Not after everything you’ve said and done to me. I wanted to help you become better because I see it in you. But now I don’t know what to believe in anymore,” you snap at him.

“Don’t waste your time. It’s not worth it,” he says walking away from you and pacing the room in frustration. 

“You haven’t let me even help you! Why do you always do this! You always block me out and wallow in self-pity. No wonder you’ve been so miserable all these years!” You yell at him.

You can see him fuming, looking at you like he could attack you at any moment.

“You better watch it,” he says through his teeth.

“So that’s it. You want me gone,” you say bluntly.

“Yes. I can’t hurt you again. I’ll never touch you again,” he says weakly, regret coming out of those words.

It feels like a punch in the gut. His words cut you like a knife and you felt like all of this was for nothing. The way he can just toss you aside like you are nothing. Your entire life felt like it was in shambles now with nothing going right. The men in your life have ruined it beyond comprehension and there was no clear exit route.

There suddenly comes a harsh knock on the door and makes you jump. Elvis quickly goes to answer it and opens the door. 

“What is it Jerry,” he spat.

He looks down as he speaks to Elvis, “Sir your um… meal is waiting for you,” he says quietly but you can hear him loud and clear. 

You stare craters into the back of Elvis’ head, fuming with anger.

“Your what.” You yell, feeling your cheeks redden.

In comes walking in a long-legged blonde, hair piled high and enough makeup on to cover you twice over. You realize this is the same girl from the party that was sitting on his lap. That’s why she looked so familiar. She looks at you and scoffs, putting her attention on Elvis and reaching up to kiss him. She makes a spectacle of it, making sure to press her body into his as much as she can to make you jealous and moan into his mouth.

You know he can hear your heart leaping out of your chest and you hope he can smell the rage that is boiling off of you. He looks at you for a brief moment, seeing the hurt on your face.

“Wait for me in the bedroom honey, “ he whispers in her ear.

She giggles and nods up at him, going to the bedroom before staring you down like you’re a piece of trash. You hear the click of the door behind you close and you rush up to Elvis, not giving a damn whether he can’t control himself around you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! You couldn’t have waited an extra minute so I could leave?!” You yell, pounding your hands on his chest in anger. He doesn't move an inch as you try to push him and feel stupid for even trying to.

"I don't understand why you're so upset..." he scoffs.

"Are you kidding me?! Because I know what you're going to do to her in there! Did you forget I've walked in on you before! You're probably going fuck her and wish it was me!" you say spitefully. "But the only difference is you can compel her to forget it all so that makes her your dream girl doesn't it?" you rasped.

He looks down at you with regret on his face and you can tell he doesn’t like to see you like this. He doesn’t answer you, just keeps breathing shallowly. He looks down at you hungrily, smirking as he looks you once over.

"Hmm... maybe I will," he snarls.

“Why?! Why did you tell me that you wanted to change and then go around doing this! Falling back on your old ways because that’s what’s easy,” you snarl in his face. “I thought you had blood vials, I thought you’d feed from those,” you ask.

“They’re not enough,” he rasped.

“What- I’m not understanding I thought-.”

“You make me starved! Having tasted your blood makes everything else not enough! Nothing is fulfilling like yours! That’s why I need to feed from something… alive!” He yells, sending chills through you. 

You couldn’t hide how this scared you. It took his possessiveness to a whole different level. You didn’t need to know much about vampires to know that this was not normal. You thought all blood was the same to him. But it seems he is ruined now and any blood won’t do. 

You stand there trembling, unsure what to say. 

“What does that mean-,” you ask and watch as he starts to walk away from you. 

“I don't have time for this,” he bellows. 

“Don’t walk away from me! I deserve answers!” You snap. “What happened to my neck?! What do you call this?” You ask as you pull the scarf off your neck and show him. 

“What do you-,”

He doesn’t look right away until you step closer to him and he does a double take, furrowing his eyebrows together. His eyes grow large, shocked at what he is seeing.

You watch as he fights the urge to touch you, clenching his hands into fists on the side of him. 

“I… I have no idea. I’d call it luck that I didn’t bite any deeper," he says menacingly, "I need you to leave now so you don’t also become my next meal,” he growls, heading for the door of his bedroom. He gives you one last look before entering, a look of astonishment and hurt. 

You too make it quickly out of the suite doors and rush to the elevator. You feel sick to your stomach and wish you could actually talk to him and get the answers you need. You’ve never felt so low in your life. It was bad enough you saw Daniel be unfaithful to you but you never thought Elvis would do something like this to you. You truly believed it when he said how much he needed you in his life. That you weren’t just anyone to him. 

You decide to not call Anna and just take a cab instead back to your apartment, you needed to pack your stuff up eventually and tonight seemed like the perfect night to do so. You feel like you lost all sense of direction in your life. Nothing made sense with or without Elvis in your life and you wanted to erase it all. In a way, you wish you could be compelled and forget all the memories you two had. But for whatever reason, you couldn’t and now you have to figure out a way to move on.

You get to the apartment and thankfully, Daniel isn’t home. The place looks disheveled but you don’t care, you just had to focus on your stuff so you don’t have to come back here.

You lock the bedroom door and get the suitcases down from the closet and start piling everything in, you didn’t care how much of a mess it was. You’re moving too fast and you stop to take a breath, feeling the tears fall from your eyes.

You realize you have nothing now. You’re completely on your own and have to start from scratch. It all scared you and made you regret some of the decisions you’ve made. You lay on the bed and let all the events that happened sink in. It’s time for a change and you were the one to make it. Maybe you should look for other jobs in the area. You had plenty of experience and you were sure that another hotel would hire you. The room feels like it’s spinning and you close your eyes, praying that this was all a bad dream.

*

You slowly wake up groggy, rubbing your eyes and trying to get your bearings. The sun was starting to come up and was lighting the room a bit. You look at the clock and it is four-thirty already. You decided to put your two weeks in today and start looking for another job, it was probably for the best. Getting as far away as possible from Elvis might be the best thing for you both.

You sit up in bed and feel a set of eyes on you coming from the side of the room. Your heart pounds away, not wanting to look because you know what you'll find You quickly look over anyway seeing Elvis standing there motionless.

“What are you doing here?” You say coldly.

“I told you, I can’t stay away from you,” he says weakly.

*

Tagging 🖤:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @elvispresleyxo @loving-elvis

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @rosepresley @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog @myradiaz @tacozebra051 @thatbanditqueen

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873 @austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis @everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy @elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony @generoustreemystic @kendralavon7 @lettersfromvenus @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121 @jaqueline19997

@returntopresley @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8 @arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut

[dreamy625]

Overture and beginners - chapter 4

< Chapter 3

Words: 2852 (I still cannot write short chapters)

Content: Is it still called smut when it’s intrinsic to the plot? And if you’re incapable of writing sensuous prose and end up with something a little awkward? Anyway, there’s some of whatever it is

-----------------------------

“Wow, I don’t envy poor Rick having to carry his drums up and down these stairs.”

“Amps and speakers aren’t a whole bunch of fun either. We thought about trying to put in some kind of pulley system, but the risk of dropping something you’d spent months saving for was too scary.”

They got to the top of the second flight of steep, narrow steps and Steve put his key into the rusty lock and jiggled it until it turned and he could push open the door. It was almost as cold inside as outside and the first thing he did was switch on the two electric heaters. 

Katie looked around at the mishmash of old furniture, threadbare rugs, band posters, and a drum riser apparently built from packing crates nailed together. “Aw, you made yourselves a little clubhouse,” she teased.

“I’ll have you know we are serious musicians and this is a bona fide rehearsal studio,” he retorted with mock affront. 

“Of course, my sincere apologies. The next best thing to Abbey Road I’m sure. How much does it cost?”

“Fiver a week, so a pound each, which is not too bad. And that includes the electric. Wouldn’t want to run this lot,” he waved his arm at the assembled instruments and equipment, “off a meter.”

“Suppose not. Can I?” she asked, gesturing at Rick’s drums.

“Sure, there'll be some sticks on the floor somewhere I expect.”

Katie sat down on the stool and tapped out a few rhythms, pretending not to notice that Steve took this opportunity to hastily take down the topless glamour girl picture pinned to a cupboard door!

“Will you play something for me?”

“Noooo,” he demurred, “you don’t need to hear me make a noise.”

“I do, and it’s not a noise. I bet you’re good; you spend every hour you’re not at work here, so you must be by now!”

“I’m alright,” he mumbled. “Okay, fine, I’ll play.” He couldn’t continue to say no in the face of those big round imploring eyes. 

He clicked open the catches on one of the guitar cases and pulled out a honey-coloured guitar.

“Ooh, pretty.”

“It’s only a copy. But one day I’ll have a real one.” He slipped the strap over his head and bent to switch on his amp and plug in, then stood in front of the drum riser checking the tuning and running through some scales while staring thoughtfully at the wall. “What shall I play?”

“Anything you want. I’d like to hear one of your favourites.”

Steve started to play something, a slow, yearning ballad, that sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place it. 

“That was lovely.”

Steve continued to move his fingers on the strings without strumming and didn’t look up, but she could see him smiling to himself. Then he straightened up, stepped his legs wide, and, with his eyes closed, belted out the opening riff to, easily recognisable even to Katie’s untrained ear, Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin. 

When he finished and struck a pose, arm in the air, she clapped enthusiastically. “Wow. You are… amazing. No, seriously,” she reiterated as Steve shook his head vigorously, “really, really, REALLY good.”

“Oh stop it. And don’t look at me like that,” he begged, all the rock star bravado of a moment ago gone. 

“Like what?”

“Like I’m… Elvis or something.”

“You’d better get used to it, buster. Because thousands of people are going to look at you like that one day soon! That is… are the rest of your band as good as you?”

“I think… we’re all pretty good in our own ways. But together… yeah, I think we’ve really got something.”

“Well, sign me up as your first fan.” She jumped up from the sofa and gave him a sideways hug, avoiding the guitar.

“First groupie?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“Play your cards right,” she replied, coiling her arms round his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

Some minutes later, and sunk into the slightly musty cushions of the old sofa, they didn’t hear footsteps on the stairs or the door hinges creak, but they did hear Joe’s laugh, “Jesus, Sav, not again.” And as Steve’s head jerked around, “Ooh, not Sav! Well, well, this is a turn up for the books - Mr Clark getting his end away!”

“Sod off Joe, we weren’t… we were just kissing,” protested Steve, pulling his shirt down and running his hand through his dishevelled hair.

“Oh aye, and the rest! You know you’re supposed to hang your jacket on the door handle when you’re using the place for that kind of caper. What if innocent little Rick had walked in instead of me? He’d be traumatised!”

“Firstly, ‘innocent little Rick’ has had more girlfriends than both of us put together, and secondly, we WEREN’T doing that. Look, trousers on and everything!”

“Oh give over yer daft 'apeth, I’m only kidding. You gonna introduce me to your lady friend?”

Katie, who had stayed hidden behind Steve’s shoulder, peeked out and waved awkwardly.

“Joe, Katie; Katie, Joe. Our singer. And resident comedian.”

“Nice to meet you Katie, and sorry about interrupting your, err…”

“What are you even doing here - practice isn’t for hours?”

“Mum’s got friends round and the sitting room’s full of knitting and giggling. United are away, so I thought I’d come here, try and do a bit of writing, and then listen to the match on the radio.”

“So you’re here the rest of the day then?”

“Yeah, sorry mate, it’s pissing down and I’ve nowhere else to go. You’re welcome to stay, as long as you behave - I’m not watching you two slobber over each other all afternoon!”

Steve and Katie exchanged not particularly thrilled looks. “Weeell, my parents are supposed to be going out, I could phone the house and check if they’ve gone yet?” she suggested.

“There’s an idea.” He turned to Joe, “We’ll be off then, enjoy the… who are they playing?”

“Blackburn,” he answered gloomily.

“Oh dear, I won’t say enjoy the match then. See you later.”

With Katie pulling on her anorak and Steve just flicking up the collar of his denim jacket (he never seemed to have a proper coat), they left Joe regarding both an empty sheet of paper and his team’s prospects without enthusiasm.

-----------------------------

The smooching session that had started in the rehearsal room, continued on the bus back from town, and paused only long enough to make sure the rest of the Raffertys definitely were out, had reached fever-pitch with shirts removed, hands all over, and bodies entwined on the narrow single bed.

With a groan, Steve pulled away and rolled onto his back.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something…”

“Oh no, it was really nice. Just… it could get… err, messy if we go on much longer.” Embarrassed, he avoided her gaze, looking up at the ceiling and adjusting the waistband of his jeans to try and make everything less squashed.

“It would be less messy if you… took it out?” suggested Katie hesitantly.

“I… oh… really?”

She nodded, and so he unbuttoned, unzipped, and wriggled his jeans down. He was wearing blue boxers, that were displaying a distinctly tent-like shape! 

He looked back at her for reassurance. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Maybe!” she teased, then made her face serious. “No, I won’t laugh. Promise.”

He pulled the underpants down too, revealing, well, she had no real comparison to make, but from things she’d heard from girlfriends, it seemed quite impressive. 

“Can I touch?”

“If you want,” agreed Steve, feigning nonchalance.

Katie ran a finger gently down the length, and giggled when it twitched at her touch. 

“Like this?” she asked, wrapping her hand around the base, “And this?” as she slid her hand upwards.

Steve swallowed audibly, “Uh huh.”

When she hesitated, not wanting to do it wrong, he put his hand over hers and guided it up and down for a few strokes. She concentrated on keeping that rhythm going while studying, subtly so he wouldn’t get self-conscious, the piece of equipment in her hands. It was sort of fascinating - the only penis she’d really seen up ‘till now was in that mortifying sex education film at school, and she’d certainly never got up close and personal with one before. Steve held quite still, and when she looked up at his face, his eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted, letting out ragged breaths.

“Is that okay?”

“Perfect.” It came out raspy.

She leaned over and kissed him, and he kissed back, increasingly sloppy and uncoordinated, until she dragged her lips to the corner of his mouth, across his jaw, and down to his throat. She pressed them to his collarbone, his chest, anywhere she could reach, and felt his hips rocking beneath her hand. The only sounds he made were a muttered request for ‘faster’, and then almost-silent grunts on every stroke until, with a final sharp intake of breath, he shot warm white goo over her hand and his stomach.

Katie wasn’t quite sure what to do then. She reached over to the nightstand for tissues and wiped her hand. Steve had thrown his arm across his eyes and she prised it up.

“Are you hiding from me?”

“No! Yes.” Finally he met her eyes. “That was amazing. Thank you.” She handed him a wad of tissues and he mopped carefully at the mess, making sure not to get any on the sheets.

De-gunked, Steve held out his arms and Katie snuggled up to him, her head on his chest. He trailed his fingers up and down her back.

“I’d like to… I want to touch you too, if you’d like that? But I’m scared I’ll be crap at it.”

Katie hugged him tighter. “Aren’t guitarists supposed to be good with their hands?”

“Hehe, I suppose so. But I don’t know… girl bits sound… complicated.”

Picking up on the ‘sound’ part, Katie guessed, “Because you’ve never done it before?” She had an odd feeling asking that. Blokes were supposed to be experienced, weren’t they? But she found she felt suddenly proprietorial, jealous of any girl that had been there before.

“No,” admitted Steve, “but I’ve read three issues of Cosmopolitan if that helps!”

“It’s a good start,” she laughed, “and it’s not that complicated, I could show you. Oh,” she had a sudden thought, “we should wash our hands first, just in case there’s any of that… stuff hanging around.”

They padded across to the bathroom and washed; Steve kept his hands under the hot tap for an extra-long time so that they’d be warm. Back in the bedroom, Katie took her skirt off and they got under the covers. Steve ran his hand down her side to her thigh, getting acquainted with new places he hadn’t properly got to touch before, then back up to her stomach and over the lace of her bra.

“Can I take this off?”

She nodded and he reached behind and unsnapped it.

“See, nimble guitarist fingers!” she exclaimed.

“If you can play an E flat added ninth, bra clips are a piece of cake.”

He slid the strap over her shoulder, kissing the faint red mark it left behind. Katie pulled her other arm through and dropped the garment off the side of the bed.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, trailing his fingers gently round the curve of her breast. It tickled a little and Katie tried not to giggle.

He ducked his head and kissed first one nipple and then the other, followed by an experimental lick and then, very gently, sucking. A quick intake of breath from above made him pause, but fingers squeezing his shoulder encouraged him to continue. He swirled his tongue and was rewarded with a shuddering breathy ‘ohh’. He repeated the trick on the other side (wouldn't want it to feel left out) to more appreciative noises, and then lifted his head.

“You like that?”

She nodded, a little flushed. “How did you learn how to do that?”

Steve shrugged one shoulder, “That was me learning it.”

“Clever boy. Do it again?”

“Yes ma’am.”

With multi-tasking skills honed by many hours of lathe work, he also reached down and slipped his hand under the waistband of her knickers, stroking around her hipbone and across her lower belly. “Do we need these?” he asked teasingly.

“We do not,” she replied, and he tugged them down far enough that she could kick them off completely.

This was definitely new territory and he explored tentatively, sliding fingertips over the soft skin of her inner thighs and curving his hand over the mound in between. “Teach me what to do.”

Katie reached for his hand and guided his first two fingers. “So I guess the main, um, landmarks, are here,” she moved his fingers in a circle, “and here.” She took his hand down lower, to what felt to Steve like a confusing pattern of soft folds that he mentally tried to match with the diagram in the biology textbook and some magazines he kept hidden in a box of sheet music at the bottom of his wardrobe. “And it helps if you lick your fingers first,” she added.

Steve did so, noticing the exciting new smell on his skin just from those brief touches. 

“So like this? In circles?”

“Uh huh,” she muttered, slightly distracted as she got used to the weirdness of someone else touching her in that way, trying to remember the details of what she did when she was alone. “You can vary speed and pressure and… oh I don’t know - improvise!”

“Got it.”

He propped himself up on the other elbow and went to work, moving his hand in slow, deliberate circles.

Katie giggled as she looked at his face with its furrowed brow, “You look like you’re taking an exam!”

“Shush, you. I’m concentrating. Close your eyes.”

She did, and that was better, shyness dissipating and just the pleasurable feeling of Steve stroking her and his warm breath on her cheek. He leaned in and kissed her, and that was even better. She moaned into his mouth as he hit a particularly good rhythm, and felt his lips curve into a smile. When she pulled back to take a breath, he moved his head down to kiss her neck, licking and sucking gently down to her collarbone and back up. 

He sensed her body relaxing and she bent her knee to open her legs wider, which he took as an invitation to move his fingers lower. 

“Ooh slimy!” he observed without thinking about it.

“STEVE! Euw!”

“Sorrysorrysorry! But that’s what’s supposed to happen isn’t it?”

“Yes. Just don’t say it like that!”

“Sorry. Wet. Slippery. Silky.” He punctuated each word with an apologetic kiss. “That’s what I meant.”

“Better.” She smiled and settled back on the pillow, closing her eyes once more. 

Steve wiggled his finger around searching for the right spot and then, when he found it, eased his finger in, smooth and easy once he got the angle right. As he slid the finger in and out of the slick, welcoming warmth, he briefly got distracted, wondering how it would feel to put his… no, this was about Katie, not him, he had to focus. She seemed to be enjoying his ministrations, but how could he make it even better for her?

He broke off from kissing her neck to ask, “Two?”

“Mm-hmm,” she answered without opening her eyes.

His fingers were bigger than hers but the extra stretch wasn’t unpleasant, in fact, after a moment to get used to it, it felt good, great. She angled her hips to get more contact and he seemed to understand what she needed, adjusting his position so that she could press against the heel of his hand. Remembering a particularly informative magazine article, he twisted his wrist and found that, yes, he could reach her clit with his thumb at the same time, and she gasped and clenched around his fingers. It didn’t take long after that for her breathing to quicken and turn to panting, then her head arched back and she came with a long ‘ahh’ and he could feel her knees shaking as well as the spasming inside. It felt like such a privilege to watch that, to be the cause of that, a fantasy come true. He moved to cradle her head, brushing away a tendril of hair that had stuck to her forehead and pressing a kiss to the damp skin. He waited until her breathing slowed and the grip around his fingers loosened before carefully easing them out and resting his hand on her thigh, where he could still feel the occasional twitch of a muscle. 

Katie blinked, coming back to Earth, and her face broke into a grin. “‘Scuse swearing but holy shit, Steve! How does a nice boy like you know how to do that?”

“Um, is it bad if I say from Playboy?”

She laughed, “I think I need to send a thank you letter to the editors!”

Chapter 5 >

[frecklystars]

💌 here’s a free gush pass for officer k!

OH 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 AHHH!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON you are so so sweet!!!!!!!!!!! This is just what I needed today!!! 🥺🥺💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Officer K!!! OOGHH WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN????? I've been yearning for him just about every day!!! Definitely one of my top favorite RG F/Os, probably even within the top three!!!! ;u;

I'm gonna go OFF, thank you, sweet anon, for allowing me to explode:

I've been dying to gush about Officer K and how he's become synonymous with Elvis. to me.

I used to be a hardcore Elvis fan when I was ten years old -- you know, normal, like all ten year olds. How did anybody assume I was neurotypical when I had an Elvis themed birthday party and did absolutely nothing but live, eat, and breathe Elvis Presley for a full year? Elvis on my walls, my mugs, my backpacks, my lunchbox, my clothes, my mousepad, even my breath mint case was a guitar shape with Elvis' face on it. You know, like all ten year olds have?? ANYWAY. I fell out of liking Elvis as I grew up, then flash forward to a decade later, I'm watching all these Ryan movies and there's so many instances where he'll say a line and it'll have the same bit of drawl or click of the tongue the way Elvis did, the same push/control of breath that makes his voice curve "up", and I'd think "huh... that sounds... familiar"

Then I watched br2049 for the first time, and there is that scene where an Elvis hologram shows up, glitching, singing "suspicious minds" for a moment, and it got me all excited. K was looking at it curiously for that split, split, SPLIT blink-and-you-miss-it second, and "I can't help falling in love with you" played a minute later, and he looked at the hologram again for just one moment. I just... started associating him with Elvis from that point forward. I don't even know if he liked Elvis' songs while they were playing; he was kind of, uh, going through quite a lot at the time, haha. but if he knew I liked Elvis' music/voice quite a bit, he'd come to associate it with me, and maybe he'd like it too.

I really love daydreaming about him coming home from a long day, he's just exhausted and jaded and there's this ache in his chest, and I know exactly what to do to try to make him feel better, feel loved, wanted -- or maybe I wake up from a nightmare or something, and he knows exactly what to do, to make me feel safe, cared for, secure -- I don't go a single day without daydreaming about us holding hands during those moments when we need each other terribly, slow dancing a little bit in his living room while playing Elvis records. He could just easily play the songs instantaneously from another device that would fill the whole room, but there's something... different... about a record player that he's so dearly drawn to. It's all Barbie pink (I had to bring it to him from some other dimension after all!), and he likes the faint sound of the stylus scratching, the little bits of static electricity.

"Love Me Tender" makes me teary-eyed every single time I listen to it now, just because it makes me feel so comforted to think about him. I think he'd hum it softly in my ear while we're slow dancing. Or just laying on the couch and cuddling, his coat as a makeshift blanket for the both of us, him rubbing my back and my fingers in his hair. If I can't sleep, he'll tell me fairytales in a soothing voice. Most of them he makes up on the spot, something something there's a princess with stars glittering in her hair, something something there is a stable boy named Joe who falls in love with the princess, something something he works to become her knight to protect her at all costs... she makes him feel like a prince even though everyone else views him as a mindless, worthless thing; he makes her feel safe and loved and like she's almost herself again when they have late night talks in a garden full of yellow flowers. They make each other feel things they have been missing out on for so long. And they live happily ever after. He always makes sure to end it that way; always a happy ending.

"It's Now or Never" is one of my favorites to associate with him too... when I listen to that song, I often think about him looking out his apartment window, waiting to see a shooting star (for context, my self insert enters universes via falling star, then transforming into a human once reaching the ground). He can never see a star in the sky, not in that universe, not when there's smog and advertisements in your face all the time, not when there's so much pollution, that the only stars, the only sunlight he could ever dream of seeing is a picture or drawing in a textbook. But he sees one star so vividly every few nights twinkling above him and slowly drifting toward where he is, whether that's home or in his office or out in the field. And he drops everything and bolts outside toward it, catches it, then tucks the star away in his coat, protecting it from the cold as he walks back inside. If he's going into his apartment, he feels a surge of protectiveness overtaking him. All of these people yelling at him, spitting at him, shoving him, throwing slurs in his direction - none of that matters, he's got a star tucked away near his heart and he's gotta make sure nothing happens to it. If he's getting shoved, he turns his body so he only gets hit in the shoulder or the back, not the chest or whichever side where the star might be tucked away. When he goes inside his apartment, he locks the door, takes a breath -- and suddenly there she is, there's his girl, still a bit of stardust in her hair from her travels. And we hug!!! One of those big tight hugs where you close your eyes and your fingers curl in the fabric of the other person's clothes. Desperate. And he lets out this big SIGH of relief.

I think about him listening to "Rubberneckin'" and he pauses and says "hey sweetheart... what does that mean?" "what?" "rubberneckin', what is that?" 👀 cue a visual demonstration here. it really doesn't help that the song has girls moaning in the background that he asks about too lmao

You know that scene where he's walking through the ruins of Las Vegas? I always remember "Viva Las Vegas" when I watch it. One of these days I hope to make a (very roughly) sketched animatic for the first 40 seconds of that song with Officer K.

"Baby, Let's Play House" describes K very well, as he literally comes home every day and plays house with Joi lol. That's not one of my favorite songs but I listen to it on occasion and think of him. "Don't Be Cruel" is probably my favorite Elvis song to associate with him so far. I always think of dancing to it with him, and him laughing. Actually laughing. Feeling good. I want him to be so happy around me. "Bossa Nova" is a good dancing song for us too!

I think about AUs for Driver and K, like, what is it called... a greaser AU? 70's AU? I just want the excuse to draw them in a black jacket, me in a cute poodle skirt, us sharing a milkshake at a diner or dancing to a jukebox. I wanna draw things. I WANNA DRAW THINGS.

ANYWAY ANYWAY I've rambled enough. Thank you SO MUCH for giving me this free gush pass. Whoever you are, I am sending you the biggest hug and lots of love and chocolates and all of your favorite flowers. That was really nice of you to brighten up my inbox after such a hard day ;w; and it's so sweet of you to remember how much I love this guy. Ahhh. This means a lot to me. I hope when you get something from the vending machine, it gives you two snacks for the price of one. I hope you find money on the ground. I hope all of your favorite songs come on the radio when you go grocery shopping. I hope you have the most delicious meal in the world the next time you go out. Thank you for your kindness, it doesn't go unnoticed. Quite the opposite. Sending you so much joy and love and good vibes 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

[kindh3art3d]

“Will You Love Me Tomorrow?” Stephen Sanchez Record Shop Co-worker AU Fluff!

I AM BACK. THE UNIVERSE THREW ME A CURVE BALL BUT I CAUGHT IT

also I think this is the best chapter I’ve written so far, please like, share and comment if you enjoyed this post!

enjoy :) _____________

Y/N started at the record shop six months ago today. Of course no one would remember not even her favorite owner Billy would remember. He didn't remember much these days, but this wouldn't even cross his mind.

Six months isn't a long time in the grand scheme of things, but to Y/N six months was more than just a measure of time. Six months meant everything. Because that's when she met, Stephen.

She gazed around the poster plastered walls, neon signs and pop-star cut outs scattered the space. It felt like home, despite the flicker of yellow-ish tube lights.

The melancholic sound of Carole King's song "Will You Love Me Tomorrow?" played in the background, it felt like a memory both future and distant. It was a kind of song to dig up emotions that you couldn't quite understand yet. But no matter what, it still made her think of, him.

Y/N tapped her fingers along the  paint chipped countertop and found herself wandering through memories.

She just kinda tumbled onto the Jazz Table Record Shop one day, pulled in from perhaps boredom, but she stayed because of him. She wasn't familiar with old or cool music, she didn't have a artisy or snobby taste in music from vintage bands, she didn't know who Blondie or the Misfits were, she didn't know that Elvis Presley made more than one song, she didn't know that Phil Collin's was the drummer for Genesis, she didn't know that they both had amazing music.  But she learned all of this because of him.

He had drawn her in with those attentive and dreamy dark eyes. She hadn't seen eyes like those before. Whatever he talked about, she wanted to know about.

She pretended to keep up, that she knew all the references all the songs and musicians.

Maybe he decided to keep up the conversation because there was no one else in the slightly chilly shop, maybe he thought she was cute, maybe, maybe, maybe.

Still to this day she doesn't understand Stephen. But one day she'd like to.

"Hey, I think you should totally apply here, we are kinda under staffed at the moment and we could use some more people like you"  He seemed sincere when he passed a paper application across the countertop. 

Of course she filled it out and returned the next day. Only to be disappointed that Stephen wasn't there, but one of the owners named Billy, welcomed her and almost immediately hired her. The pay wasn't amazing, the hours were weird, but you got to get a killer discount and they treated everyone like family, and they believed in mental health days.

So six months ago today, she started a bit nervous, but a little excited when she saw that Stephen would be her trainer. She definitely didn't buy an Eagles shirt from Walmart as a conversation starter. 

Today Stephen started at 2pm, and it was currently 2:05pm. She focused on the vintage Tom & Jerry clock, hoping it was a bit off.  He usually wasn't late....

He's fine! Hahaaaaaaa stop it.

It was at 2:11pm the clatter of the front door bell sounded and Y/N quickly looked up from her phone.

Stephen rushed in iced coffee and tote bag in hand.

He looked out of breath as he doubled over, painting and slightly sweaty. He put a hand up "Sorry for being late! I lost track of time" he laughed.

Butterflies erupted in Y/N,  God that smile, that laugh.

"It's all good, nothing really happened you just missed one of Carole King's best songs" she smirked.

He rounded the counter and dumped his stuff on the wobbly stool. 

As he caught his breath he said  "'So Far Away'?"  Y/N laughed  "No?"

He made a quizzical face "What was that tone for?"

She rolled her eyes  "Tapestry by far is her best album but, 'So Far Away' isn't the best song on there, and it's definitely not her best song."

"Pssshhhh," he swatted the air and grabbed a stack of cds and started to sort them out.  "How is that not her best song? It's about nostalgia and loneliness, but there's also something comforting about it." 

Y/N joined him, she forgot she had to label all the cds that a metal head sold earlier, the guy was clearly going through it, she thought he was crazy for selling all these vintage metal albums for this cheep. 

He pulled a cd up to inspect it "Ooh, Screeching Weasel" "Said no one ever." She muttered. At that they both laughed.

"Okay so since you're the expert, what is Carole King's best song?"

Without a moment of hesitation she blurted  "'Will You Love Me Tomorrow?'".

They were in a suspended silence. Their faces mere in inches apart. She felt a blush creep up her face. Even though it was the title of the song, it felt more like a confession.

Stephen was the first to break the silence, "Well technically that song was for the Shirelles first. So why do you think it's her best song?"

Y/N cleared her throat, "Uhm- well Carole wrote it after she gave birth to her child and she was in a vulnerable position, wondering if the love she felt was genuine and reciprocated. I think it really highlights what young and uncertain love feels like."

At that he tilts his head as he continues to go through the stack of cds.

"But the Shirelles killed that performance, they deserved so much than what they got."

Y/N smiled but also deep down felt a little embarrassed, he wasn't continuing the conversation the way she was hoping he would. 

"Hey, I'm going to go reorganize the t-shirt rack." She quickly exited behind the counter and walked away. 

For the next agonizing 30 minutes, they worked in complete silence. She wished that a customer would walk in and break the tension, or that he would say anything. 

She just needed something, anything to happen.

It was humid and sticky inside the small shop, and her nervousness didn't help with her internal temperature. 

She decided to prop the door open with a brick.  It was a glorified brick really, Billy had painted a Hawaiian shirt on it and gave it googly eyes, his name was Rick the Brick. One time some lowlife stole Rick, and Billy called the cops, from that day on no one messed with Rick. He wasn't just a brick or a door prop, he was the epitome and the embodiment of the spirit of Jazz Table Records.

Finally thinking of an ice breaker she spoke "Do you think we should make a buddy for Ricky?"

Stephen looked up "Like a friend for him?" 

Y/N struggled and walked over to the counter. She leaned against it "It's proper time he isn't as lonely, I can't imagine being alone for 20 years. He needs a friend."  Stephen smiles a slow honey and molasses smile that sends a shiver through Y/N. 

"I couldn't imagine either"

They both laugh

"I still can't believe you've never dated anyone" Y/N laughs harder.

At that Stephen flushes,

"Well it's not like I couldn't get anyone, it's just I haven't ever wanted anyone" he shrugs it off. She stops laughing, she can tell that she took it a bit far. 

"That's not a bad thing. I understand what you mean"

He works on something on the work computer.

"Finding love these days isn't easy, no one is honest anymore, not with their partners, not with themselves. It's scary. You can never really find out anything about anyone. It's so strange."

Y/N watched him type and focus, the glow of the computer highlighting his handsome and dark features. 

" I get it, we live in a weird time honestly. I feel like people aren't authentic. We change ourselves so often, we don't even know who we are." She bites her cracked lips. 

"I can't stand when people change themselves to fit into a new mold so they will be liked by someone." His words cut through him. 

She never felt more exposed.  She changed parts of herself for him. She started dressing differently, listening to new music, ordering coffee with oat milk even though she didn't like the taste that much. She did a lot, just so they'd have things in common. She felt stupid now.

He couldn't have said it to slight her... right?

He couldn't have known that she changed so much about herself.

In a moment of courage she said "Sometimes we are desperate enough for the love of someone we adjust things about ourselves to fit their ideals. Sometimes we don't even realize it."

His eyes move to met hers.

She didn't have much to lose.

Actually that was a lie, she'd lose everything if she lost him.  But she was still ready to take a risk.

"I changed a lot about myself."

He watches as she fidgets

"I've changed a lot about myself to be loved by someone I've loved so deeply that I didn't care if I lost myself in the process because I knew I'd be a better person if they loved me." 

Her gaze flits up to his.

"And I truly hope that I'll never regret it because I am so in love with him, I'd risk it all."

He swallows slowly and looks down.

"Love is scary, if you're not careful it's a dangerous sea to drown in."

"I'd gladly drown if it meant I had a moment to be loved." She confessed.

"Are you saying what I think you are saying?" He asked in a hard to understand way.

"I'm saying that I love you Stephen." She blurted all at once. And after a moment of silence and tension she continued 

"I've loved you from the time I walked in here six months ago. I'm so privileged to have known and loved you for the for the time that I have."

"And if I lose you now because of this, I'm glad I was able to confess to you, it was all worth it. To spend a moment in your light."

Stephen was quiet. But he wasn’t silent. She watched him intensely. He rolled his linen button-up to his elbow, small tattoos revealed, she memorized all of them, so much to the point that when she was bored she'd trace them on scrap paper. 

She knew and loved so much about him. But she wanted more. Just knowing and loving from an unrequited distance wasn't enough. She wanted to be the first thing he woke up to, she wanted to be the one who'd steal his favorite clothes, the one he'd buy flowers for. She wanted it all. 

Was it all too much to ask for?

"Y/N" he said in almost a whisper.

He takes a second to breathe.

"I've loved you from the second you walked through those doors."

Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she felt euphoric.

"But I've never loved you more than I have in this moment."

He was sincere, she saw it in his dark eyes.  She saw it in every inch of body. 

She knew he was telling the truth.

"Y/N." He paused once more

"I've loved you for six months, I've loved you today, I will love you tomorrow and I will love you forever."

__________________ It's good to be back :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

previous chapter >>>>

[therecordchanger62279]

BEEN THERE, SAW THEM

For somebody that spent most of his working life in the retail record business, and whose passion has always been music, I was never an avid concert-goer. I never liked the long drives to and from. I hated shows where I had a seat but was forced to stand all evening because everyone else did. I hated the excess smoke - when that was still permitted. I often seemed to get seats behind someone who stood all evening, or was a head taller than me when seated. The volume was a problem, too as I suffered some hearing loss at a Springsteen concert in 1978, via some Steve Van Zandt guitar feedback that was actually painful, and caused me to cover my ears. I was in the last row of Vets Arena in Columbus, Ohio. If I'd been front row, I'd probably be deaf now. I hated the exits after the concerts, too. It took more time to leave the Riverfront Stadium in Cincinnati, Ohio after The Rolling Stones show I saw there in 1989 than it did to watch the show.

My aversion to concerts became legendary, and I used to get needled all the time about it by the people I worked with at record shops. Eventually, I got tired of it, and lied about attending shows I never saw (a Joe Henderson show at a high school auditorium in Lima, Ohio, and a Neil Young show with Sonic Youth opening on the Ragged Glory tour - in Cincinnati, if memory serves). I saw my last live show in 2014. I wouldn't even remember that date except that I had a notion of trying to compile a master list of every concert I've seen since my first one in August of 1975. By my count, and to the best of my recollection, I saw more than 40 concerts over a 39 year span. That's one concert a year. And given that I grew up in a small town where nobody ever played, and never lived anywhere bigger than Toledo or Dayton, Ohio, I don't think that's too bad.

I could've been to many, many more. For years I had access to free concert tickets through my record retailing connections, but since the people who worked for me made less money, and were more into live shows than I was, I used up my favors to score tickets for them when I could. I was content to buy live albums, and experience the shows from the comfort of my recliner.

In any case, I've compiled the complete list - at least everything I can remember - including the opening act(s) if there were any. If there was something worth noting about the show, I've made comments after the entry.

Beach Boys / Ambrosia. 8/21/75 Hara Arena, Dayton, Ohio. My first concert. We had floor tickets, so I stood the entire time. Great sets from both bands, but this was still before Brian Wilson had rejoined for live shows. That was my only real disappointment.

Buddy Rich Orchestra. Lima Senior High Auditorium, Lima, Ohio 1977. I went with my mother. I was still living at home, going to college, and just beginning to really explore Jazz. I knew Rich from The Tonight Show. It was a terrific experience.

Bruce Springsteen. Vets, Columbus, Ohio 9/5/78. The night of the hearing loss. But it's still one of the three or four best shows I ever saw. I also saw him in Cincinnati, Ohio at Riverfront Coliseum in July '84 on the Born In The U.S.A. tour. Still great, but not on a level with that '78 show.

Bob Dylan. Hara Arena, Dayton, Ohio 10/22/78. Also Riverbend Coliseum, Cincinnati, Ohio 8/10/89, Hara Arena 11/2/2002, and Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio 8/5/11. The '78 show was mindblowing. The '89 show was one of those nights when the sound was bad, and you couldn't recognize the songs unless you happened to catch a familiar lyric. Awful. The last two were quite good, though.

Elvis Costello / The Rubinoos. The Agora, Columbus, Ohio 3/15/79. The Rubinoos were great. Costello wasn't. He played all of 45 minutes. Left without ever saying a word to the audience. No encore - not that anyone minded. Later that night, he and his band got into an altercation with Stephen Stills and his band at a Holiday Inn Bar in Columbus that made national headlines when Costello uttered a racial slur at Ray Charles. I was a huge Costello fan before the show, but after - not so much. I swore I'd never see him live again, and I never did.

Crosby, Stills & Nash. Toledo, Ohio 11/9/82. I was nervous about this one because I knew they had a reputation for sometimes being awful in concert. We got lucky. They were incredible. They were so good that Nash even made a comment about it from the stage. One of the best live performances I've ever seen.

Weather Report. Ann Arbor, Michigan 1983. Some other managers at the mall where I worked in Toledo took me to this. I loved the band, and I've been forever grateful to them for inviting me.

Yes. Indianapolis, 4/12/84. I went with some people I worked with. I drove. This was the 90125 tour. The show was fantastic. But one of my pals knew the band. She co-published the Relayer fanzine, and had actually interviewed band members. She took us to the backstage area afterwards promising to get us in to meet the band. But the bouncers gave her, and another female co-worker access, but denied me, and two of my male friends. We were waiting around for them to come out when some bouncers approached us, and told us to leave. We told them our friends were inside, but they couldn't have cared less, and threatened to remove us bodily if we didn't leave. So, we went to the car where we sat for more than two hours waiting for our pals to return. When they finally did, they breathlessly told us they'd been invited to join them at a party at the hotel. They claimed again that they would get us in. But I was skeptical for obvious reasons. Besides, it was now past 1 a.m., and we still had a 90 minute drive home, and I was opening the store in the morning. We argued for probably 20 minutes, and put it to a vote. It was two in favor, and two against, and one abstention. But it was my car. So we left. I was very unpopular for a long time after that (actually, I've never been very popular anyway), but given the same circumstances at another time, I'd have done the same thing. Fortunately the Yes show I saw at Nutter Center in Fairborn, Ohio 5/4/91 was a better show, and a far better experience.

Pat Metheny Group. Memorial Hall, Dayton, Ohio 7/18/85. Ohio Theatre, Columbus Ohio 11/22/87. One of only a few acts I've seen more than once. Fantastic - both shows.

Stevie Ray Vaughan / Johnny Copeland. Hara Arena, Dayton, Ohio 1985. Incredible show.

Pretenders / Iggy Pop. Hara Arena, Dayton, Ohio 3/24/87. Great show all around.

Billy Idol / The Cult. Hara Arena, Dayton, Ohio 4/21/87. I could only score one ticket to see this show. I only wanted to see The Cult, and one of my co-workers was dying to see Billy Idol. He was closing the store that night just up the street from the venue. Since The Cult opened, I went to see them, and during intermission, I went back to the store, gave my ticket stub to my buddy, closed the store for him, and told him to go to the venue, and pretend he'd gone outside during intermission for a smoke. He presented my stub, and got in to see Billy idol. Win win!

Heart. Riverbend Coliseum, Cincinnati, Ohio 7/87. Courtesy a Capitol Records rep, and it included a ride in a Steamboat down the Ohio river to the venue. Heart was great!

R.E.M. / 10,000 Maniacs. Vets, Columbus, Ohio 10/24/87. Really fine show. I went with a co-worker and her boyfriend. He drove, and had one hand on the wheel, and with the other changed the radio stations constantly all the way there and back. He was wound far too tight for my liking.

Pink Floyd. Ohio Stadium, Columbus, Ohio 5/28/88. History says this was the first ever concert at the home of the Ohio State Buckeyes. What I remember was the spectacle itself. It was the first big budget production I'd ever seen, and it was something extraordinary.

Dio / Megadeth / Savatage. Hara Arena 8/2/88. I was dragged kicking and screaming to this show. I liked Dio's records, but I had no desire to see him or the openers at all. But I gave in. Savatage and Megadeth were so loud, I stayed in the lobby and girl-watched. Dio, I'll admit was really great.

The Rolling Stones. Riverfront Stadium, Cincinnati, Ohio 9/14/89. The Steel Wheels Tour. My only Stones show, but it was incredible. I watched Charlie most of the night, and Ronnie played his ass off.

Tina Turner. Riverfront Coliseum, Cincinnati, Ohio 8/25/90. She was everything you'd expect of a living legend.

Gordon Lightfoot. Memorial Hall, Dayton, Ohio 4/91. Lightfoot and his band were terrific, but we had balcony seats, and the chairs were the smallest, hardest, and most uncomfortable I've ever experienced. I remember getting up three or four times during the show, and standing in the aisle to alleviate the discomfort.

Don Henley / Susanna Hoffs. Riverbend Coliseum, Cincinnati, Ohio. 7/23/91. The Columbia rep knew what a huge Hoffs fan I was, so he provided the ticket. We had a meet and greet with Hoffs after, and I got autographs, and a picture someone else took for me that I never received. Hoffs killed, and Henley was good, too.

Neil Young. Nutter Center, Fairborn, Ohio 9/11/92. Completely solo show, and a great one from start to finish.

Roseanne Cash / Lyle Lovett. Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio 1994 (I believe). Couldn't track down the exact date for this, or find my ticket stub. But I recall it was when Lovett was having a romance, and short marriage to Julia Roberts, and he was in the news so much he'd decided to have some fun with it. So he had a roadie put a wig and a dress on to introduce him each night. When the roadie walked out, he was indeed mistaken for Julia Roberts. The gasps, and whispers were quickly drowned out by laughter when we realized the ruse. Great night all around.

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. Riverfront Coliseum, Cincinnati, Ohio 8/30/95. A dream come true for me. They were great. It was the only time I got to see them.

James Taylor. Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio 7/9/97. Another artist who lived up to his legend.

Guided By Voices. Gilly's, Dayton, Ohio 1/99. There was GBV fever at the shop I worked in at the time. I thought the show was good musically, but Bob Pollard's constant beer swilling throughout the set got on my nerves after awhile, and my wife was none too fond of that performance either. We left early, and I never again listened much to them. In fact, a couple of years later, I sold all my albums, and 45s of the band to a shop, and kept only a couple of homemade cassettes.

Black Sabbath / Pantera / The Deftones. Nutter Center, Fairborn, Ohio. 2/99. There's an account of this rather memorable night on this very blog under the title Me and Dime (May '23). I even submitted an account of the show to Record Collector for their 'Memorable Concert' feature from fans that runs in their letters section. They never responded to the submission, and to date, have never published it. That's why I have a blog.

B.B. King / Boz Scaggs / Bobby "Blue" Bland. Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio, 6/19/99. Three legends for one price. Great, great night.

Emmylou Harris / Shawn Colvin. Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio 8/25/01. We sat outside in a torrential downpour all evening. But Emmylou and Shawn were so good, we didn't care.

Black Crowes / Beachwood Sparks. Schottenstein Center, Columbus, Ohio 10/10/01. Just a month after 9/11 which Chris Robinson referenced from the stage. Very good night, and seeing Beachwood Sparks was a bonus for me. I was one of the few in the crowd who knew them, and had their record at the time.

Sheryl Crow. Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio 7/03. I had wanted to see this, but it sold out so fast I couldn't get a ticket - until a customer walked into the shop that afternoon and offered the ticket to any of us who wanted to go. I snatched it up, and thoroughly enjoyed it. If you want to see it, too, the entire thing was filmed, and released on a DVD titled C'mon America.

Leon Russell. Gilly's, Dayton, Ohio 1/3/2004. Leon completely solo at a bank of keyboards in a small club. Much as I'd liked to have seen him with his big band in the 1970s during his heyday, there was some magic on this night that I'll never forget.

Rock 'N' Blues Fest with Johnny Winter, Edgar Winter, Rick Derringer, and Kim Simonds of Savoy Brown. Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio. 2012. My disappointment at hearing that the great Leslie West had to drop out due to health issues at the last minute was somewhat mitigated by the opportunity to see the others. I'd been a fan of each since the 1970s. Edgar stole the show. But it was poignant seeing Johnny since he passed away less than 2 years later. And Rick and Kim still had it all these years later.

Ringo Starr's All-Starr Band. Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio. 7/14. To date, this was my last concert, and I don't expect there will be any more - unless someone wants to provide a free ticket and transportation to see Yuja Wang, or Taylor Swift somewhere. I'd leave the recliner to see either. Everyone else has passed away or retired, or isn't worth seeing at this late date. So, after 40 years, I finally saw a Beatle live, and the bonus for me was also finally getting to see another legend - Todd Rundgren. Ringo does not disappoint. A good one to go out on.

Appendix (courtesy my wife): When you're married, sometimes you make sacrifices. My wife wanted to see Neil Diamond at Nutter center in Fairborn in November of 2001. I accompanied her because I'll confess an affection for his early hits - several of which he played, and played well. My wife also wanted to see John Tesh - twice. We went - twice. It was sometime in the 90s. I wasn't a fan of his music, but the shows were professional, and the crowd, and my wife very much enjoyed them. And, finally, she wanted me to take her to see Josh Groban, again at The Fraze in Kettering, Ohio. The date is foggy, but it was sometime between 2005 and 2010. And though I am not a fan of his music, the show was impressive, and there's no denying he has one of the great voices in recent pop history. He's also a very engaging, and likable sort who is great with audiences.

Appendix II (courtesy my wife): She also tells me I bought tickets and took her to a Jim Brickman concert (New Age pianist who recorded for the Windham Hill label) at Memorial Hall in Dayton, Ohio some time in the early 90s. I have almost no recollection of any of it, although it seems like something I would've done, and I do remember she had a couple of his CDs.

[aliypop]

That's Alright For Such a Night

(Rewrite Chapter 5)

Word Count: 2,764

Writers Note: So far I'm enjoying rewriting this, and Now I'm adding and Rewriting my fanfic series Anyway you do into it to really solidify the timeline.

Warning: mostly fluff / Historic Language and Values

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: During the Louisiana Hayride two breakout stars meet in a rush only to learn they've dealt their cards in the hands of fate.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Memphis Tennessee, 1956

There was something in the 61-degree Tennesee carnival air. Perhaps it was funnel cake, cotton candy, the petting zoo nearby, or the slight chill in the air, Or maybe it was the feeling of a spring fling waiting to start. 

"I think that may have been my best performance yet," Denise said, walking past the sights and sounds. "And with your growing fame that you've been achieving, you'll be saying the same thing too. Right, Cecelia...Cecelia..." Looking next to her, the young woman she was calling out for was already gone. 

"Jesus Christ, this child..." 

"Need some help finding her?" Rosa asked,

"No... I do not." Denise huffed, 

"Don't be Cruel, to a Heart that's true." were the lyrics and melody coming from the stage right in front of the young woman. Cecelia heard the familiar voice sing. She had listened to the song millions of times. And she had practically worn every record he had out, Blue eyes looking into her brown eyes and through her brown skin. That was the moment in her 21 years on Earth when she could say she was in love with someone. It was just now tricky hiding it from her mother,

"Cecelia! There you are," Denise mumbled as her daughter focused on the young man with the gyrations going on, disgusted that her daughter of such class would even be looking at such a thing. Then again, if she knew the things her daughter had done while her mother was on tour, she'd be disgusted by such things. 

"What is he doing with hips..."

"Mother, haven't you heard it's called dancing." Cecelia's glance never left his. And his glance never left hers. Cecelia was watching as he caught the flying undergarments thrown his way. She couldn't help but laugh, and it seemed neither could he. Denise had to admit he was cute, with his perfect smile and hair. But something told her she would have to do something if he even thought to talk to her daughter. Denise knew his type, the shy playboy, and she wouldn't have someone like him ruin her daughter's blazing trail. 

"Up next in 16 minutes on this stage is Cecelia Valmos and The Garnets!"  

The crowd of teenagers began to cheer even louder as the growing pain of nerves began to kick in for her.

"Oh shit..." she mumbled as her mother nudged her, running through to the dressing room backstage. She took a deep breath as she gathered herself together. 

"You were almost late," Daphane smirked, brushing her hair as she straightened her dress.

"What were you doing out there," Rosa asked, watching as Scotty winked at her, 

"Oh, I know!" Daphane raised her hand,

"Stairing at your boyfriend." They both teased as Cecelia rolled her eyes, 

"Oh, whatever, you two." 

"So whatcha gonna sing?"

"Midge, what the hell are you doing back here!" Cecelia clutched her heart.

"I'm your mother's assistant, who's been practically your everything while she's been away."

"Right, uh, probably something from our Jazz album?" Cecelia shrugged as she smiled, 

"This is going to be career suicide, Cece..."

"Not if you follow my lead, Rosa." Cecelia handed her coat to Midge as a slight chill went down her spine from nerves. 

"Your mothers gonna be pissed about that dress," Midge smirked,

"Midge, she ain't the boss of me!"

"She's our manager..." Daphane smirked

"Right." 

Midge glanced at the girls as she then handed Cecelia her Gretsch guitar. 

"Good luck, kids."

"Don't need it." they winked,

"What're you gals gonna play for us tonight?" The host said, 

 "Our new single." She scanned the crowd for the one person she hoped hadn't left yet.

"What would that be..." The host asked, scanning all three girls. It was the first time he'd ever seen such a sight. Three black girls dressed a bit risque in wiggle dresses.

"Oh God, she's embarrassing the label already." Denise sighed. Midge and Cherly, standing next to her, cheer them on. 

"Hmm... Oh, uh, Is you or is you ain't my baby," she said. The band began to play the intro. It was a bit slow and agonizing like she was performing one of her mother's hit jazz songs, which she was. Well, a cover more so. 

Cecelia could see the crowd in front of her losing interest, and it didn't help her anymore that she was a young woman of color in Tennessee, but it wouldn't stop her.

"Mind if we swing it, boys," she whispered to the band. "Guess they mind..." Rosa groaned,

"Follow my lead." Cecelia mouthed, to Rosa and Daphane,

Taking the pick to her guitar, she did a rift that almost stopped the crowd and got his attention. Playing the melody but making it anew, she took a deep breath and sang. 

"Is you is or is you ain't my baby?" her singing was mesmerizing as her fingers picked and plucked the strings, blue eyes attached to her every word, "The way you're acting. Lately makes me doubt." she grinned, her mother wasn't pleased with the rock n roll blues infusion. But she was proud of her daughter not being so awkward, like when she was a kid.

"Youse is still my baby, baby. Seems my flame in your heart's done gone out..." 

 Elvis had wanted to be the strings under her fingertips. The melody of her music. It almost made him wonder, was this how it felt when she watched him. All those nights ago at The Hayride?

"Elvis, you coming?"

"Yeah... Yeah..." he nodded his friends off as his eyes were glued on her. Sure, he had her records and had been trying to decipher her rifts and guitar licks. Ever since they had been on tour performing. But, seeing her again back from her tour, he couldn't even fathom his feelings that grew stronger for the woman he so loved and missed,

Cecelia had noticed as he walked off into the distance alone. It was almost like he was lost, like something was missing. 

"Don't wait up, Midge."

"Cece..."

"I'll be right back." She walked towards the carousel as adoring fans nearly flooded her view for more autographs. And pictures and praises, Cecelia had her eyes still set on the pair of nicely filled-out white pants leaning against the wall. Much like he was back in Florida,

"You okay?" startling the young man, he looked at her. "Yeah, just uh thinkin." his voice was deep with a southern drawl that could bring Jesus to his knees, and my, did she miss it.

 "Well. You were great out there, Pres, but you're always great up there." a slight red tint on his cheeks, 

"Nah, that goes to you," Elvis wrapped his arms around her waist. "You really know your way around the strings."

"I try to." She giggled, holding onto him, "But, Elvis, my dear?"

"Hmm..."

"Tell me more." they both laughed, butterflies in her stomach as he continued laughing harder, 

"God, I missed your laugh," Elvis said as he gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Say you maybe wanna get out of here an-" Cecelia stepped closer towards him until they both heard.

"Elvis, my boy..." 

"Cecelia, there you are."

"That's my manager." they both said in unison. The two a bit aggravated.

"Call me when you get home to Nashville?"

"If that's alright with you." she smiled back at him. The pair walked to their respected managers. 

 July, 1956 Beale Street

"Cece, you warmed up tonight." Her hair had been in a bun of pin curls and a pin curl swoop on her forehead. "Of course I am. After all, I'm releasing another album anyways," Cecelia responded to a few of the patrons. 

"You might as well. Besides, didn't ya mama open a new recording studio down here."

"She did. Why, I do not know, but I can tell you, we've had some random person callin the place 5 times a day." she laughed. 

"Sounds like a lunatic." BB King smirked as he looked at her, 

"Hey, you know who your hair reminds me of..."

"Don't you say it..." 

"My good friend Elvis. You tryin be like him or something?" he nudged her, 

"No." she deadpanned. Maybe it was a bit of a lie, or maybe. She was tired of the press referring to her as "Well... if it ain't my competition, Lady Elvis." that charming smile was right on his face. And there she was again, feeling things she couldn't hide. No matter how many times they both had tried to,

 "If it isn't Mr. Suit tails and singin' to hound dogs," she smirked, 

"That's cold, don't you think, Cece," BB mumbled as Cecelia sighed. Elvis had a hurt expression on his face. 

"And I thought we were friends, babydoll." He winked at her as she laughed,

"Oh sugarpie, don't cry." she teased as she stood up, walking towards the stage. Elvis wouldn't lie and say the joke didn't hurt, coming from her. Well, it wasn't half bad. Besides, she was cute, and he liked how they always seemed to banter. Watching her perform was like therapy to him. Her voice was his medicine, and her glance was his weakness. Catching his gaze, she looked away as a deep blush arose. 

"You like her, don't you..." 

"I-I well."

"Well, don't." 

"And why not, " he glanced at the man beside him. 

"I'm her boyfriend," he said, his pompadour bigger than Elvis's. He looked a bit defeated at the news, considering who he was to Cecelia, 

"Just kidding, they call me Little Richard baby, and you got it bad." he winked as Elvis rolled his eyes, 

"I wouldn't say I do."

"You're lookin at her the way the girls all look at you." 

"An how do they look at me," Elvis asked,

"Like they wanna fu-"

"You two talkin about fans?" 

"Cece, you were uh- uh amazing." Elvis stuttered. She realized he did that every time she talked to him. Or when he was flustered by her.

"Thanks, say can we talk," she asked. Both Richard and Elvis stood up,

 "Alone..." she mumbled. Elvis had a smug look on his face, but on the inside, he was panicking. Did he do something wrong? or say something odd, 

"Yeah, sure thing, mama." 

"Yeah, sure thing, mama." That's the best you could think to say. 

He thought to himself until he felt her hand touch his. It was like he was awakened from a sleeping spell. Cecelia pulled him through the club's crowd. As they were outside on the balcony, he couldn't help but take in her beautiful brown skin in the moonlight and how ethereal she looked. A slight cold chill ran past her arms, causing her to shiver. Elvis had noticed as he took his suit jacket and placed it over her shoulders, 

"What did you want to talk to me about baby." He asked, putting his arms around her

"I'm sorry about that Hound Dog joke," she said, poking her head through the window. She saw a few spies of the press lurking around. 

"Cece, it didn't hurt much," he shrugged, "Not like how being on that damn show did," he mumbled.

 "El, I saw the whole thing, we all did," she sighed,

 "The Colonel says it was a smart move." 

"For who," Cecelia said, looking directly into his eyes, 

"For me. I mean, they want clean fun, and I can I- can"

"Lie to yourself and be somebody you're not." she laughed, 

"I mean. If the colo-"

"Elvis Aaron Presley, you serenaded a dog on live television in a tux. That's not the Elvis I know nor like." she stared into his soul, "The Elvis I like was the one I saw at the Hayride with the wiggly hips." she smiled, "So much that I miss those hips st-" She stopped talking as she heard footsteps.

"Hurry, they're over here..." 

"El... how much do you trust me."

"As much as Captain Marvel Jr believes in finding the rock of eternity."

"That's a lot of trust," she smirked, taking his hand and climbing the ladder on the side of the building. She then tried to get off the ladder until she noticed her babydoll-heeled shoe was stuck. She tried to pull away to break free. But it wouldn't budge, and the press was getting closer. She then tugged one last time until she heard a 

SNAP!

Oh, how Midge and her mother were going to kill her. Nearly tumbling over, she had landed into Elvis, who was carrying her like Lois Lane. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't enjoy it.

 "Don't worry, darlin, I gotcha." he looked down as their eyes met again. It was just like a river flowing to the sea. His heart was nearly pounding at how close they were again. He could smell Cecelia's rose perfume while taking in every detail of her face. Elvis was madly in love with her. And he was glad to say she was his. Carrying her downtown in his arms, the two had gotten weird stares, but Elvis didn't care. After all, he was pretty well known in Beale Street, too. In the background, there was music, setting a romantic scene for the two lovers.

 "Would you care to dance?" Cecelia asked, handing her hand out to him,

"On what dance floor," he asked, putting her down gently on the concrete. She took his hand. And it was like electricity shot down his body. They were in the middle of Beale Street. Traffic was slowing down, and it was only them, 

" Anywhere's a dance floor if you're in the arms of the right one." taking her hand, he spun her close to his chest, the two pressed close together, her other shoe on the sidewalk. 

"You're gonna dance barefoot in the street?"

"I don't see why not?" her eyes twinkled as he blushed hard.

"Lord have mercy... I can't with you, Cece," he mumbled as he laughed, her eyes looking up at him as she held onto his 6'0 frame. Spinning her into his arms, he heard the band play the melody of one of his songs. His right hand held hers, and his left on her back. The two swaying as her head was on his chest, he felt butterflies in his stomach flutter, 

"Love me, tender. Love me sweet, never let me go."  He sang as she swayed with him. 

"You have made my life complete, and I love you. so." Cecelia felt every word he was singing to her. Cecelia knew how Elvis felt about her. After all, they had secretly been dating. But she couldn't deny that when he looked at her, it was like she was his universe, 

"Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfilled

For my darlin', I love you, and I always will." He dipped her, and their eyes locked onto one another. His eyes looked at her lips, then her eyes, then again at her lips. He wanted to cherish her and never let her go. He wanted to prove that she was all he ever wanted and ever needed and-

SPWOOSH!

It was as if buckets of water were splashed on them.

 "No one said anything about a rainstorm."Elvis chuckled, picking her up as she laughed, her hair getting puffy from the water. Cecelia kissed Elvis as he kissed her back, sweetly and giggling, 

"Oh, your mama's gonna be pissed."

"Honey, I know." Cecelia laughed harder. They both felt free and secure as if they were the only couple in the world, and it felt amazing to not have to worry or care about who saw them. That was until there were papers on every doorstep with them dancing in the street as the cover. 

Elvis Presley Dances With Negro Singer Cecelia Valmos.

Cecelia had been summoned into her mother's office, while Elvis had the Colonel scolding him like a child.

"I can't believe you would do this after everything I've done for you!" Denise said, rubbing her temples,

"It's not that bad, Mother," Cecelia said, looking at the newspaper. She was definitely going to show Elvis that picture when she saw him. Besides, it was cute.

"My boy, this could be career suicide," Tom grumbled. Elvis had laughed. If that bit from him singing to a dog wasn't career suicide, then he'd say he was doing just fine.

"What are we gonna say." Denise look at Cecelia

"How am I gonna cover this up my boy." Tom asked Elvis

"Any way you do?" 

Taglist: If you wanna be tagged let me know!

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

MORE IN CHAPTER 6!

[hooked-on-elvis]

"FOOLS RUSH IN (WHERE ANGELS FEAR TO TREAD)"

A song that grew on Elvis' liking, completely changing its rhythm before he decided to officially record it in the 70s.

Lyrics written by Johnny Mercer with music by Rube Bloom.

Elvis' version of "Fools Rush In" was first officially released on the album "Elvis Now" on February 20, 1972. Recording date: May 18, 1971. Released peak chart position: #43 Pop, #45 Country. RIAA status: Gold.

This is a 1940's popular song. It has been recorded many times over the years, including by Frank Sinatra, Julie London, Etta James, Brenda Lee, Doris Day, Dean Martin and many other singers before and after Elvis' recording in 1972, but the major hit was Rick Nelson's version, released in 1963. And here is where things get interesting.

You can listen to Nelson's recording below, which is pretty much similar to Elvis' cover on the rhythm and pace of the tune. I gotta say the echo on the voice channel in Nelson's recording doesn't please me much. It's a fair good recording, sure, but Elvis' one... it's dreamy! Like, I dare you not to fall head over feet in love with it.

According to "Elvis Presley: A Life in Music" book, by Ernst Jorgensen, Elvis was familiar to this song since the 60s, at least. And the best part is: He recorded the song back then during non-professional home recordings, on June 1966. Unfortunately the song is not fully sang but it's enough for us to see the rhythm is completely different from the official recording Presley came with in 1972. It's jazzy, soothing and peaceful, certainly inspired by one of the 40's versions of the song, such as Billy Eckstine recording released in 1947:

It was common for EP to decide recording his favorite songs, so it's great "Fools Rush In" came as a personal choice for his official recordings.

Chapter 10 - "1966: HOW GREAT THOU ART":

Singing and playing music with friends had always been a part of Elvis’s home life, but lately it had taken a new turn. Red West had bought two semiprofessional tape recorders for Elvis to use in producing demos, and Charlie Hodge had topped touring with country music veteran Jimmy Wakely and moved into Red’s Hollywood apartment to go to work for Elvis again full-time. Red was writing a lot of songs, and Charlie sometimes helped in overdubbing the demos he was putting together. They got Glen Campbell, then working as a session musician, and paid him twenty dollars to play guitar on some of the demos. Sometimes Red and Charlie would take the tape recorders over to Elvis at Rocca Place and the trio would lay down tracks, alone or with whoever else was around. Not surprisingly they turned often to their favorite gospel numbers — "Show Me Thy Ways", "He," "Hide Thou Me," "Oh, How I Love Jesus," or "I, John," another song Elvis would eventually record. Other times they simply tried anything that caught their fancy, from old standards like "Fools Rush In" and "It’s A Sin To Tell A Lie" to more contemporary material — "Blowin’ In The Wind," "What Now My Love," and "500 Miles." Often they dug into old country standards, and sometimes they even got Elvis to sing along on Red’s new tunes. In the intense yet comfortable atmosphere of collaboration with friends, Elvis had found an alternative to the endlessly tedious soundtrack recording process; at home he could work away at the music he loved, and that in its own rough way made a truer musical statement than anything he was likely to do under the employ of a Hollywood movie factory.

It's curious to me how Elvis leaned to Rick Nelson's 60s upbeat version of the same song himself sang in the 60s, instead of going with its more calm, 40s swing-era sound when he decided to turn "Fools Rush In" into an official recording of his own. In spite the fast-pace sound of the 1972 recording, Elvis carried the same passion in his voice he had on the 1966 home recording. Both versions sound like EP's pleading someone's love wholeheartedly. Probably his choice to go with the 60s version of this tune when covering it officially was a financial decision, thinking about the hit Rick Nelson's version was and also considering how the music in the 70s was no longer meant for "fools in love" confessing their deepest feelings in that fancy, elegant manner, more than it was better shouted from the top of its lungs for the whole world to hear - that's exactly how the 1972 Elvis version (inspired by the 60s version) sounds for me. Unafraid, prideful, rather than a secret spoken under one's breathes like the 40s versions sounds like (which I'm not complaining at all… it's beautiful anyway). Either a soothing ballad or a fast-pace tune, in general, "Fools Rush In (Where Angels Fear to Tread)" is a touching, encouraging, lovely song. ♥

I personally prefer the 70s version released by Elvis, but what about you? Which "Fools Rush In" version did you like best?

[antvnger]

((First of all, I’m glad you liked that speech. Scott’s very proud of that speech honestly.))

((Let’s see here, I think I can round up some headcanons related to that. Once again, I went overboard so see below))

(( @arandomnerdsrp358 just in case you wanna see this too))

As Scott said in his speech, the first time Cassie brought her significant other [S.O.] home to meet him, he saw the look in her eye and realized she’s got it bad for them.

Their dating life was full of ups and downs, and Scott lost count how many times Cassie swapped between “I love them so much I can see me being with them forever” and “I can’t stand them I think we’re going to break up”.

The couple’s young and they’re figuring a lot of things out. It’s just part of relationships sometimes. But Scott rooted for them because he could see how happy they made each other and how they were made for each other.

The more the couple were together, the more that passionate flipflop in feelings subsided into comfort and familiarity and the need/want to be together.

Maggie seemed to know from the get-go Cassie would marry this one, but it was Scott who correctly called when [S.O.] would propose.

[S.O.] took Cassie to her favorite spot in a nearby park for a picnic. It’s quiet and peaceful with lots of beautiful trees that are in their summer prime, bright green and full. They go to watch the sunset, and when it got dark, that’s when [S.O.] popped the question. When Cassie said yes, the fairy lights [S.O.] hid in the trees came to life, making the moment magical.

[S.O.] may or may not have requested some help from Scott to make that work.

The couple decided they weren’t really big on long engagements. They know they’re it for each other so why wait forever and a day for the big day? They decided on a spring wedding which gave them and their families less than a year to get everything together. Which is a lot.

Scott thought his job would be pretty easy though. Help pay for the wedding and walk her down the aisle without ugly crying over it. Okay so maybe it wasn’t that easy but still. The less decisions he had to make, the better.

Cassie informing him about his speech was a surprise, but it wasn’t the biggest surprise she threw on him.

She asked him to sing.

“You want me to what?”

“Please, Daddy? I really love listening to you sing, and you’re better than you think you are. It would make me so very happy.”

Ohhhhh she pulled the Daddy card and used her puppy dog eyes. Instant KO.

So his job just got harder now because he’s not sure he can walk her down the aisle without crying, never mind sing in front of everybody at her wedding without crying.

She requested “Can’t Help Falling in Love With You” by Elvis Presley, and he could do it however he wanted. Play it off his phone, have someone play accompaniment for him, whatever. It just had to be that song.

So Scott being Scott and tending to go above and beyond for people he loves, he decided to do something special just for Cassie. And [S.O.] too but really just for Cassie.

He learned how to play an acoustic guitar. He can only play one song though, but one’s enough especially since he likes the drums better anyway.

Nobody knew what he was up to. Nobody. He didn’t let anybody watch him practice, and he managed to actually keep this a secret which is a big deal for him. Until it was time for sound checks for the ceremony, and Scott made sure to do his sound check before anyone else showed up so he could keep the surprise.

Hope and Maggie both tried to get him to crack. They obviously knew something was up. “You’re hiding something.” He just shrugged and offered his trademark smirk. “It better not be anything ridiculous, Scott.”

“I would never do anything ridiculous on Cassie’s big day. Well…not anything embarrassing anyway. If it falls under the ridiculous category, I guess we’ll have to wait and see if it does.”

His turn in the ceremony came right before the vows, and when he pulled the acoustic guitar out of hiding and started to play softly, Cassie gasped in pure shock.

Then he started to sing, and she started to cry. All good tears, I promise. No embarrassment here. Just love. Lots of love.

[what-if-nct]

Hiiii!!!! I. Have. Talked. To. My. Crush. She. Likes. The Owl House. And. I. Promised. To. Draw. Something. For. Her. Birthday. And. She. Is. So. Nice. To. Me.

BUT SHE HAS A GIRLFRIEND 😭😭 Although I'm really happy for her they look so so so cute together!!! She's so nice to me tho, tho we dont have anything much to talk about anymore. I befriended her and thats enough. I hope they have a happy life together and that she'll always be happy!!!

How are you doing? Are you feeling alright? I hope you're feeling okay!!! ( I love your style so much, even more than anything I've loved in my life. You're too cute and pretty and nice and kind for this world. ) For the colors, every except gold( ish ) I don't feel comfortable flirting with you, but I really really really love you! Hope life treats you well!!!!

I'm going through a minor Wang Yibo addiction right now. His voice sounds so good and him and Xiao Zhan ( platonically ) are better than the world. Yeah I watched the untamed and I am going through another phase. Xue Yang. Also there's this character who's name is Wen Ning and he's shy. And sells radishes. And he's a dead man. A very kind dead man. He is really kind and I love him way too much. Just seeing his face just cheers me up tho most of the time he's staring into my soul.

Today I showed my Haechan ( ♡ ) photocard to my dad to see if he could guess the age, and he guessed it right. So my dad is a boomer, such a boomer, but somehow, he knows some stuff. I sang 'I wonder how' once, and then he sang 'I wonder why' I was fucking terrified. Seriously I had not expected that. Also the song Bamboleo once trended in a community I was in, and he knew that too. He still is very much a boomer, he doesn't know who Justin Bieber is. He only knows the Beatles, Michael Jackson and Elvis Presley. He probably doesn't even know Queen.

I went to my new school, and ran away with a panic attack day one. I got chased by the same teacher thrice. She terrifies me now. I hate her for how she acted. I said 'leave me alone' everytime and everytime she was like 'okay.' And then she came back with 'i only wanted to check if you're on the right side of the train station' and 'maybe it'd be better if your dad came picking you up' you know what? Fuck off. I hate her now and nothing will probably change it 😭

— sneeze ♡♡♡

Hiii! Oh yay I'm glad you were able to at least become friends and get to know each other. I think a friendship would be just as fulfilling. I hope you get to have more things to talk about in the future. And it's so sweet you're going to draw her something for her birthday I'm sure she'll just love it.

I've heard Wang Yibo's name before but I don't remember where he sounds so familiar. I just went to check and hes been on shows with Yixing that's how I know him of course. I figured it was through my husband Yixing. Also Yibo has the same birthday as me! The only person I know with my birthday is Yungblud and I love him. Also Yungblud and Yibo were born same day same year I love finding birthday twins.

The older generation does tend to know at least a few things from later generations. But not much but a few unless you have a mom who used to be a groupie for white snake or guns and roses or a grandma who was a hippie who went to Woodstock clearly they are the coolest people of their generation. Also Gen X are automatically the coolest generation of them all. Like Millennials honestly an anxious mess of a generation as one I can say that we're a mess. Gen Z still finding their footing mostly teens but definitely seem the most tame compared in the since there's this puritanicalness I haven't seen in my generation or in Gen X it's fascinating.

I kinda understand maybe her intentions but within the situation chasing you down multiple times isn't the right way to go about it would have been best to let you be and calm down cause she's just adding fuel to the fire and frightening you there's definitely better things she could have done. I'm so sorry it was a hard first day.

And I'm feeling fine I've had an odd obsession with cashews lately I've bought four containers of cashews this month and one of them was a pound so far this month and they're all gone it's all I want to eat. I have this thing where I will just eat the same food over and over if no one stops me. And you're so cute! Oh my gosh. Thank you! I've actually been having a fashion crisis just where I have clothes that don't match. I turned one top into two tops. It was a long sleeve top with big sleeves so I was able to get two tops out of it but I don't have skirts the right color or the prints are too busy. But I'm so picky that I can't find exactly what I want till Loey Lane, a YouTuber posted an outfit and I looked up the store and I finally found clothes I love in my size. There's one skirt I love it's sequin but its a micro mini skirt and I love it but there's a front slit and I just know it'll be too short I only have one micro mini skirt and it's just long enough to be decent. Can't bend over but it's decent. But I want the sequiny one. But.

I love short skirts but I just know it's too short but it's so pretty. I'll think about it. But this is what I already decided one.

Kinda obsessed with wearing bikini tops as regular tops it's so cute and I just needed a little cardigan cause all I have is velour zip hoodies. And I just need a plain skirt and I like getting longer skirts cause I can hike it up shorter to a length I like.

[ponderingthepassion]

One. Meet The Beatles.

Harry Nilsson said that 1 was the loneliest number. Yet, as an eccentric 10-year-old, I was not alone anymore.

It was Christmas Eve, 2010. I had not been a 10-year-old except for three weeks but was eccentric for as long as I remember. With my odd personality, making friends was not my strong suit. Naturally, I felt ostracized. At this point, I had been questioning what was wrong with me for years.

I grew up as a child of divorced parents, so holidays were full of planning and logistics while it seemed that my brother and I were tossed from one home to the other. That Christmas though, we would stay Christmas Eve night with my dad and have Christmas morning with him, after having spent the earlier part of the day with our maternal grandparents. Then, we would pack up the presents we wanted to bring back to our primary home and spend the rest of the festive day with our mom.

Explaining the logistics still has my head in a spin. The important part was that I was under the care of my dad on this very day because it seemed that the universe aligned so perfectly.

As my brother and I spent the afternoon awaiting the night to come so we could fall asleep and bring on the morning faster, my father's girlfriend at the time stopped by for a little bit. Being together was not bizarre because while they were together, they spent ample time together. My father and his girlfriend never married and the relationship fizzled out, she became a second mom to me. I knew then and still know that she cares about me, even if it has been years since I've seen her.

During her visit, she brought along Target gift cards for my brother and me. We were weird kids with weird interests and I look back now and think about how impossible it was to buy gifts for us. The gift cards made sense. For my dad, she naturally brought more personalized gifts.

He was no musician and was a hobby guitar player if you could even say that. Yet, he was more passionate about music than some trained musicians that I have met. His passion was more of an obsession. It shaped me naturally as I took on his genetics, as he immersed me into his little world. My youngest memories are of sitting in his music room on the upper level of our house before my parents divorced. The radio blared with the likes of many Elvis tunes, Boris the Spider by The Who, and I stayed mesmerized and amused. I learned the lyrics almost subconsciously to some of my favorite songs. 

A CD seemed to be a good gift for someone so musical (this was before he lugged his record collection back out, which would come a few years later). My dad had a vast collection, with the most noteworthy titles being his copies of the complete Elvis masters. The addition of a greatest hits compilation by one of the few artists that rivaled Elvis' success did not seem to be anything extraordinary.

For me, that one CD was life-changing. The CD did not present itself as anything more than a greatest-hits package. The red and yellow design was more reminiscent of that of a fast food company, rather than something fitting of what could be hailed as the greatest band of all time. Regardless of any physical appearance, my dad asked if I had heard of The Beatles. 

Sure, I had heard of them, or at least I thought I had. I could not name any of their songs, but at least the name sounded familiar. Even if I had heard of their name, my dad wanted to play me the CD. So, I sat back on the couch and listened. 

This was different. This was unlike anything I had heard before. One Direction had been formed by Simon Cowell on the X-Factor only a few months prior. Justin Bieber’s “Baby” could not be ignored, no matter what anyone did. The music that came from my dad’s stereo was captivating. It was different. 

It was as if everything in my life clicked for once. With my awkward nature, I was eager to find something I could cling to. I did not want this CD to stop. I knew my dad only wanted to listen to a few songs. After all, we had to go to bed soon so Christmas could arrive in the morning. 

It would be fitting to mention that I could not remember any gifts I received that Christmas. However, the gift of listening to that CD is one that I still hold so close. This simple CD catalyzed my musical obsession. This was not some pre-teen phase. 

Many might have thought that I would be obsessed with The Beatles for a few short months and then abandon them and start listening to the music my peers listened to. Yet, that did not happen. The obsession grew over the years and now. Being obsessed with music and being discussed as a walking encyclopedia of music became a part of my demeanor. It was very evident that the obsession did not fizzle out at all. In fact, it got more intense. 

However, the CD was what I needed. My brain still recognizes the track listing with Eleanor Rigby being followed by Penny Lane. For instance, listening to Revolver and hearing Eleanor Rigby, not hearing the starting lyrics of Penny Lane follow, is still a bit jarring, even in the present day. The familiarity, as a lonely ten-year-old became so comforting. 

That same lonely ten-year-old clung to The Beatles like the friends she never had. I am still not certain as to why I became so obsessive. Yet, trying to decipher the whys and looking back with a more mature perspective seems to offer that I engrossed myself like this. If I occupied myself and my time so heavily, I would not feel alone. These artists could not judge or avoid me, but I could invite them into my life when I wanted to. I had control. After all, up until the last year, it seemed like these musicians were mere characters. 

At a point, it became more than just a hobby to fill a void. At a point, it became almost life-saving. I wanted to engross myself more in the stories behind the music I listened to, and read. I read a lot. It did not matter. I read so many books, but I would not be limited to books, but also articles, and learning what others had learned and decided to share. I was an information sponge. 

Yet, through this pursuit of knowledge, I learned of the humanity of these musicians. Their humanity, tinged with negative experiences, was not unlike those I faced as a hopeless adolescent. Yet, becoming aware of the humanistic struggles of these musicians gave me some hope back. They seemed larger than life and unreal, but they were just people.

I needed that hope to get through the hand I had at my disposal.  Growing up was not happy, but the music and the stories behind the music could bring me moments of fleeting bliss and contentment. I needed anything to help me make it through. I still lean on music as a primary coping mechanism. I let it revitalize and rejuvenate me when I feel detached from myself and my surroundings. 

Some individuals do not believe in miracles, and I am not quite sure where I stand. Yet, divine timing is evident. Something out there knew of the hardships and the journey that I was about to endure and knew what I would need to make it through on the other side. 

When introduced to The Beatles, I was ten and had already experienced some evils of the world. I knew of the horrible ways in which some individuals presented themselves. I was not coping well with this exposure, but I had been gifted hope in the form of a CD. The world was not all nasty. 

After all, art was still present and was not tarnished. I had a gift in the ability to enjoy it. I also had a gift with my passion and earnest ability to go into something with everything in my soul that I had, which included something as mundane as liking a band. 

I was still odd and eccentric, but so were the musicians I listened to and read about. They made it okay to be weird because if they had not been unique, they would not have made it. I needed that confirmation. I needed confirmation that I would make it out of the other side because at times, I did not think that would ever happen. Yet, I can say that it did happen. 

It is very safe to say that after all this time, I have grown, both physically as I am no longer a ten-year-old little girl, but also within myself and my passions. Twelve years have passed (as of writing), since that Christmas Eve. I am now confident that my main passion in life is music and to do something with it, whatever it could be, is my main desire. 

It could seem silly to say that a CD changed my life, but at last, I was not alone anymore and I never would be again. 

(EDIT: I started this piece sometime last year and would like to say that I have since reconnected with my father, but did not want to edit the above to reflect that, to keep the integrity of my feelings throughout the entire writing process. I have also since then seen my “second mom” and she is still as lovely as she was back then.)

[septembersghost]

You definitely get that operatic feeling listening to the instrumentals

when my mom and i were in the theatre, where it hit me *hard* that it hadn't quite yet at home because surround sound is simply so different in its expanse, is when they're leaving russwood, and elvis is getting shoved in the car, and there's that breathtaking shot of the firework reflected above his face

(credit to op! because tumblr wouldn't bring this up in my search for some reason. and that gifset is gorgeous)

the first times i saw this, i was so focused on the performance of trouble and the visuals and the hectic things happening, but the score is this dramatic, dark chorus utilizing heartbreak hotel (which is the melody they used to link elvis and gladys), and its like an emotional punch. it's foreshadowing through that music. (they did this often - toxic las vegas being a standout example). the way they took these existing songs, reworked them into intricate instrumentals and added the choirs or laid in the central vocals when necessary works in this tremendous way. i love scores in general because they do establish mood and themes and characters, it's why the best film/television scores are memorable, but this is a bit of a unique case since they were doing adaptations of songs the audience is/might be already familiar with, songs residing in the central subject's catalog and easy to hear in his own voice. suspicious minds, cotton candy land, heartbreak hotel, can't help falling in love, unchained melody, etc, they figured out how to literally reorchestrate them, to make them into leitmotifs and character associations, to layer them into the visuals in a way that's propulsive but not obtrusive, where you're surrounded by this music which was always calling to and coming from within him, and it's simply a heartbeat of that world. it does function like an opera or a grand musical even though it's technically not one. it's so cool to me, it's like a magic trick and i love the effectiveness and beauty of it so much.

i've thought a lot about how elvis would probably really love and be affected by this, given his own feelings/admiration for opera, and his specific pride in it's now or never and those inspirations. again, as with those formative and everlasting gospel influences, it functions as a lovely tribute as well.

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 16th October

Finally, after almost a year of British rock and rollers, it's none other than the British rock and roller of all time, Cliff Richard, a man who I suspect I'll be pretty familiar with if I ever actually wrap up this project - because his final top 10 single (so far) was in 2008. That's fifty whole years away, for those of you keeping track!

Move It - Cliff Richard and the Drifters (peaked at Number 2)

Naturally, my immediate thought on seeing the title of this one was "huh, I didn't realise the song from Madagascar was a cover". Which it turns out it is, but it's a cover of a 1993 Reel 2 Reel song. This song is, to my disappointment, a completely different song.

Honestly, it's pretty good, though. I should confess at this point that I wasn't expecting great stakes from Cliff Richard, possibly because I know more of his later, cheesier, poppier stuff. But actually, this is a good, solid rocker. Admittedly, a lot of that's purely thanks to the work of the Shadows - sorry, the Drifters - who bring a reverb-heavy, jangly guitar to the party that's kind of surf-y, or at least surf-adjacent. But Cliff's giving it his all, too, with a respectable amount of moaning and groaning, and little "uh" sounds inserted between words in a vaguely Elvis-esque way.

The song was written by the Drifter's guitarist, Ian Samwell, in response to a newspaper article where a critic apparently was quoted as saying: "So rock’n’roll is dead, is it? My funeral oration consists of just two words: good riddance." Which explains lines in the song about how they say it's gonna die, oh, honey , let's face it, / They just don't know what's-a goin' to replace it. All of which gives you a fascinating glimpse into the world at a point where rock and roll was a brand new phenomenon, and I guess everyone assumed it was going to just die out and they'd go back to - checks lyrics - ballads and calypsos. Except, of course, rock and roll didn't end up dying out, which makes Cliff's lines feel oddly prescient, a sort of glimpse ahead to the music that Cliff himself will end up making for, like, five more decades after this.

And in among it all, some rather standard lines about dancing, the exact sort of thing you'd find in any self-respecting American rock and roll number: Come on pretty baby, let's move it and groove it / Well a shake-a baby shake, oh, honey please don't lose it. Between that, the almost-but-not-quite-an-Elvis-impression delivery, and lyrics about real country music, it's a song that clearly wants to establish it as an inheritor in the whole rock and roll tradition, a "legit" song in the same way a Elvis or Jerry Lee Lewis song would be. Which is kind of interesting - it's not the very first British song to try to do this, but it's probably the most successful and the most convincing we've heart until now.

Like I said up top, I think I just filed Cliff into a "tragically uncool national treasure" category in my head. I knew vaguely that stuff like Move It existed, but I couldn't get past Summer Holiday and Congratulations and Bachelor Boy, and all the later stuff. So yeah, I was pleasantly surprised here. I think having the Shadows around help, too - the guitar, here, is definitely what makes the track work.

Born Too Late - The Poni-Tails (5)

Could there be a better name for a 1950s teenage girl group? Looking them up, they all actually had matching ponytails, too, which is really the bare minimum with a name like that, but it made me happy nontheless. Also, they seem to have worn these adorable matching dresses when performing, too, all very 1950s.

I think the song itself falls into the "teenage girl pop" category that I've been noticing more and more of recently, as exemplified by artists like Connie Francis and the Chordettes. Which is possibly just a spin-off of the "teenage boy music" of Buddy and the Everlys. But the vibes are different, somehow, in a way that I'm inordinately fond of, especially when you get songs like this, that pick up on some relatable romantic dilemma and treat it with a sort of seriousness that only a teenager could really get away with.

In this case, the song's about having a crush on somebody older, as the singer complains about how she was born too late for you to notice me, / To you, I'm just a kid that you won't date, / Why was I born too late? She sees her crush walking round with another girl, and wishes she could be the one to kiss and cuddle with them. It's all told in simple language, with just enough vagueness that it feels less like a specific personal story, and more like some sort of prototypical, universal teenage experience, something that equally teenaged listeners could project their own personal angsts and dramas onto. I can see the appeal, honestly - I'd have lapped this up, if it had come out while I was at school!

And musically, it's also just really good stuff. It's mostly piano, organ and guitar-led, but with these excellent sax bits, and the Poni-Tails themselves just sing very appealingly. I can't explain exactly why, there's just something in their harmonies and earnest melancholy that I like a lot. It's very pretty, and all at a pitch and speed that's very easy to sing along to, maximum angst. You could belt this pretty well in the shower, you know?

Like a few other songs recently, I could see this being used to set the scene in a film or TV show. And indeed, it was apparently used in the 1973 film That'll Be the Day, but apart from that, there's not much, which is frankly criminal - if ever there's been a song that should play over an establishing shot of a 1950s American high school corridor, it's this one.

A Certain Smile - Johnny Mathis (4)

And after two genuinely cool songs, this. It's not uncool, per se, but it's definitely the most conservative of the songs this week. Johnny Mathis is going for a solidly "easy listening" vibe, here, complete with lots of strings, periodic flute and piano flourishes, and some rather operatic backing singers. It's got a lot of dramatic heft, and I wasn't hugely surprised to learn that it was from a film, also called A Certain Smile.

And after two genuinely cool songs, this. It's not uncool, per se, but it's definitely the most conservative of the songs this week. Johnny Mathis is going for a solidly "easy listening" vibe, here, complete with lots of strings, periodic flute and piano flourishes, and some rather operatic backing singers. It's got a lot of dramatic heft, and I wasn't hugely surprised to learn that it was from a film, also called A Certain Smile.

The film is based on a Françoise Sagan novel, Un certain sourire, which is kind of interesting, because she's mostly known for publishing her first novel, Bonjour tristesse, a romance she wrote while she was still a teenager. That was four years ago at this point, but I know in the French-speaking sphere she's still known as this sort of iconic 1950s teenage figure. Putting her in a cultural conversation at least with the Poni-Tails, or maybe even Cliff. That said, A Certain Smile sounds a little less obviously teenaged in its concerns, as a film about a beautiful young Parisian who simultaneously is romancing a young man and his rich, married uncle. Yikes.

Johnny is in the film, but not as a character, just as a bar singer, who appears to sing this song, all about how a certain smile, a certain face / Can lead an unsuspecting heart on a merry chase. The idea is that you can see somebody and instantly fall in love, and even if you fall out of love again, in the hush of night, exactly like a bittersweet refrain / Comes that certain smile to haunt your heart again. It's syrupy and much more wordy than either of our other songs this week, while simultaneously being about a situation I absolutely can't relate to, and I don't think any of this does it any favours, at least in my book.

The only thing I do kind of enjoy is the melody, which keeps going to places I don't expect. The "fleeting glance" line, in particular, catches me off-guard every time I listen. I think it also helps that Johnny goes quiet and gentle on it, rather than choosing to belt those final lines - and he absolutely could have, you can hear where he chooses instead to go for the subtler option. So yeah, some good performance decisions, I'm just not a huge fan of the song.

I feel like this week was just another confirmation of rock and roll's staying power, and the way it's developing and turning into something new. I mean, we got Cliff, singing about how rock and roll's not going anywhere, just developing into something new and fresh, while he's simultaneously setting a precedent for genuinely cool British rock and roll. And then we get the Poni-Tails representing a different, but equally fresh offshoot of rock and roll, all teenaged and girly and earnestly relatable. And then Johnny Mathis. You can't win them all. I feel like Cliff is the most notable. But I don't give my final award for most notable, do I?

Favourite song of the bunch: Born Too Late