#elvis home recordings

[hooked-on-elvis]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4. "WHAT NOW MY LOVE"

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

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

[myvinylplaylist]

Ramones: End Of The Century: The Story Of The Ramones (2005)

Rhino Home Video

Sire Records

[natethreepoint0]

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

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

[munson-blurbs]

Hello! I stumbled upon your “meet-cute post” and thought it was really cool, so here’s my request :)

I’m Lauren, my pronouns are she/her, and I’d like to be paired with Eddie Munson. I’m an INFP enneagram 4w5, I’m awkward, anxious, creative, quirky, caring and shy. I love listening to music of all sorts of genres, reading and thrifting.

I hope you have fun writing these requests and thank you for doing this 🩷

You meet Eddie while thrifting with your roommate, Robin!

CW: Eddie is initially a bit of a grump WC: 625 Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

“I’m telling you,” you said to your new roommate, Robin, as you opened the door to the thrift store. “They have the best stuff. I’ve already been here, like, five times.”

Robin laughed incredulously. “You’ve only lived in Hawkins for two weeks, and you’ve been here five times?”

“I didn’t ask to be judged,” you huffed, but a smile betrayed your feigned annoyance. Moving to a new town and starting a new job was definitely overwhelming, but it helped that you’d quickly befriended your roommate. “But yes. And now you get to see it for yourself.”

It was no surprise that you’d found a thrift store almost immediately after moving. Whether you were in your hometown or exploring somewhere new, you always managed to find a secondhand store to find one-of-kind trinkets. It felt like fitting the final piece of a puzzle. 

So when Robin had made a comment that morning about wanting a bookshelf but not paying an arm and a leg for it, you knew exactly where to go. 

You made a beeline for the furniture section without allowing yourself to browse the clothing aisles; you were here for Robin and her bookshelf, and you couldn’t be distracted. 

Until you saw it: a record player, the wood a shiny cherry red, in near-pristine condition. 

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, not waiting for Robin to acknowledge your absence. 

You had a record collection back at the apartment of different albums you’d acquired over the years. Everything from Elvis to Johnny Cash to Madonna sat in a box that had yet to be unpacked. You ran your fingers over the corner where there was the tiniest chip, and imagined the sounds of music filling your room, melodic and harmonious—

“Son of a bitch!” A frustrated voice yanked you from your daydream. 

You whipped around to see a guy, right around your age, standing behind you. He was scowling at you, his denim jacket-clad arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“Um, sorry, is this—were you going to buy it?” Heat rushed through your body. Had you been too hasty in your excitement?

The man’s expression softened when he saw your nervousness. It was then that you realized how good-looking he was. His frizzy curls formed a halo around his face, juxtaposed by the faded devil emblem on his shirt. 

“No. I mean, yeah, I was, but you—it’s yours,” he stammered. Cocking his head to the side, he studied you for a moment before asking, “do we know each other?”

You shook your head. “I just moved here. That’s why my roommate and I are shopping; we’re supposed to be getting new furniture. Well, she is,” you sheepishly amended. “I’m supposed to be helping her, not finding more stuff for myself.”

He laughed. “Listen, you take the record player. I’ll find one another time.”

“I really don’t need it.” 

“Well, neither do I.” The corners of his mouth quirked up into a smile. “But it would be a shame if it went to the home of someone who was just going to let it sit in the corner. Or worse…” He raised his brows. “Someone who’ll use it to listen to disco.”

Your mouth dropped open in protest. “Don’t knock ABBA till you’ve tried them!”

“Oh, my God.” He scoffed and chewed on his lower lip in consideration. “All right, how about this: we split custody. That way she’s exposed to good music and,” he grimaced, “ABBA.”

You stuck out your hand. “Deal.”

He accepted your offer, shaking your hand. His grip was firm but gentle, and he let his fingers linger against yours for an extra beat.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “You got a name, co-parent?”

--

[sissylittlefeather]

Kinktober Day 18: Dirty Talk

Burnin' Love

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, dirty talk, mentions of sex

Word Count: ~1.2k

Kinktober Masterlist

You walk into the studio sound booth at exactly 12:26am. Elvis has been there working on this song since about 4 in the afternoon and he's still not pleased with it. You haven't been a producer for long, and they usually only call you in when they're desperate to go home. That's how you end up here, in the studio, with Elvis Presley at nearly 1am. His band is exhausted. Their parts are perfect. It's his vocals that he isn't happy with yet. The song is complicated and he won't rest until it's just right. 

“Alright, goddamnit, let's go again.” He says into the mic, ready to run it through again. His voice has an edge to it like he's irritated to still be working on the same song. You were nervous enough to be called in, much less to be called in to work with him, but you also know that his musicians are exhausted and you might be reaching a point of diminishing returns. You take a deep breath and try to ignore how good he looks, dark hair a little messy, lips shining with where he keeps running his tongue over them. Clearing your throat, you speak softly into the mic. 

“Uh, Mr. Presley, maybe we should let the musicians go and you just try your tracks a few more times.” He looks up at the booth suddenly. Who the hell was that?!

“Honey, who are you?”

“I'm the producer, sir. They called me in to cover the night-”

“My name is Elvis. You don't need to call me sir.” He smiles up at the booth with his eyes sparkling behind his sunglasses. Your voice catches his attention and then when he sees you in the booth with your headphones on, he's ready to keep recording all night long. His irritation disappears with the curvature of your lips and the way your skirt hugs your thighs. 

“Oh, okay, Elvis. Maybe we should let them go?” He smirks a little and then shrugs. 

“Fine with me, honey. Y'all heard her. Clear out.” The musicians sigh gratefully and begin to pack up. “What's your name, doll?”

“Y/n. I think we only need a couple more takes.” You try to ignore his burning gaze and fiddle with something in the booth. 

“Oh, I don't know, honey. These lyrics are really throwing me for a loop. Might need your help.” You lift your head quickly and meet his eyes. Even behind his glasses, they're piercing and you can see as he looks up and down your body. He breathes out a laugh as he notices a blush rising in your cheeks. 

“Of course, sir- I mean Elvis. Whatever you need.” You stumble over the consonants and try to keep it together, but you can already feel yourself getting wet. He knows the effect he's having and thoroughly enjoys watching you drop into a chair as your knees go weak. 

“Whatever I need?” He gives you a devilish smile, adjusting the headphones on his ears and you whimper, glad he can only hear you when you have the mic turned on in the recording booth. 

Once everyone has gone and it's just you and him, you get the track ready to play for him to sing with, actively ignoring your arousal as it dampens your panties. 

“Okay, Mr. Presley-”

“Elvis.” He smiles and you almost faint. 

“Elvis, I'm going to play the track and you just do your vocal part.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Your hand shakes, but you press play and let the track run. He starts to sing and then stops, his fingertips on the headphones and a slight frown on his face while you pause the track. 

“What's the next line, doll?”

“Girl, girl, girl, girl, you gonna set me on fire.” He smirks. 

“Set what on fire?” You blink a couple times before you can answer. He licks his lips again, imagining how warm your body would be against him. Finally, you get it out. 

“Set me on fire.” 

“Am I setting you on fire, honey?” 

“I-um-I-what?” You stutter and stammer into the mic and he chuckles. 

“Can you sing the line for me?” He gives you a cheeky little grin and you start to suspect he's being difficult on purpose. But you're not about to let on that you've figured this out, so you sing the line. 

“Girl, girl, girl, girl you gonna set me on fire.” He was right, your sweet little voice is almost as pretty as you are. 

“Mmm honey, I've half a mind to get you in here singing backup for me.” Your cheeks turn pink again. 

“Oh, um, thank you. Shall we continue?” He nods. 

“Of course.” You push play and he keeps singing until he gets a few more lines done. “What's the line?”

“Burning, burning, burning and nothing can cool me.” He wraps his hand around the mic and pulls it in close to him.  

“Oh, honey, I think you could cool me just right, what do you think?” His voice in the microphone is smooth and sexy in your headphones and you feel your center drip even more. 

“Huh?”

“Nothin' baby.” He goes back to singing and you make it through the next set of lyrics before he stops you again. 

“Next line?”

“It's coming closer, the flames are now licking my body.” He chuckles again. 

“Licking what?”

“Licking my body.” You answer, trying to stay as professional as possible. A lopsided grin spreads across his face and he decides to kick it up a notch. 

“You want me to lick your body, honey?” You sit in stunned silence and stare at him. You're so turned on you can barely breathe. “I can think of a few places on your body I'd like to lick.” 

“Like where?” It comes tumbling out of you breathlessly before you can stop it. He wets his lips with his tongue. 

“I bet you've got a pretty little spot between your thighs that I'd love to get my tongue into.” You moan softly into the microphone and he adjusts himself to make his erection less uncomfortable. 

“Mr. Presley…” You whisper airily. 

“Elvis. I'd love to get these sideburns on your thighs, baby.” You whimper again and he doubles down. “Put my tongue in that pretty pussy.” 

You're so hot and bothered at this point that you can't even remember what you're supposed to be doing. He pulls the mic to his lips and keeps going. 

“You wanna cum in my mouth, baby?”

“Yes…” You hear yourself whisper as you grind against the chair for friction. 

“Let me put this big cock inside you? You want that, honey?” He starts to stroke himself over his pants and you bite your lip and whine. 

“Yeah…” You rub your thighs together and watch as he grins and continues to palm his dick over his pants. 

“Well, are you comin’ to me or am I comin’ in there?”

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

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @deltafalax @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @jhoneybees @polksaladava @searchingforgravity @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @your-nanas-house @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

[jhoneybees]

1970 - chapter 1

Wellllllllllcomeee to chapter 1 of 1970!!! Hope you like it, everyone!

Characters: Early70s!Elvis X innocent!reader

Warnings/triggers: Fear of going out of comfort zone.

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a @theelvisprincess @thelonelyheart @hooked-on-elvis @polksaladava

_____________________________________________

The start of summer, the summer of 1970.

A record playing softly in the peaceful silence. You sit on the couch looking out the living room window to the familiar scenery of the next door neighbour's house across the road. A slow breath falls from your lips feeling the warmth of a cup of coffee nestled in your hands.

This is the life that you're comfortable with.

Living alone at 19 in a simple one bedroom home in a small southern town called Anaville in the middle of Mississippi, working three days a week at the local coffee shop on the main street, you have plenty of time to do what you love during your days off.

You’re happy like this.

Having the choice of deciding to go to the library one day or the arts and crafts shop one the next or staying home to knit and crochet. You're content in this little bubble, this little life you’ve created for yourself and…you wouldn’t ask for anything else.

Except for this one…something.

Something that has been brewing in your mind for a long time. You’ve never wanted to think about or admit it but it always floats back into your mind at night. It’s been like this ever since the end of senior year and now… it’s been a year, you can’t hold it in anymore.

An adventure.

You want an adventure.

But you're scared shitless.

Ever since graduating highschool last year, finding yourself a job and a home to rent, you’ve been so happy and blinded by this little bubble you’ve created for yourself that now, craving for something new out of this perfect little life makes you feel nauseous.

You want to go out there, out of this town but you just don’t know how to take that step out of your comfort zone.

You don’t want to do it alone.

Knock. Knock.

Turning your head towards the direction of the front door, you carefully put your cup of coffee down on the coffee table. Cautiously, walking over into the hallway. Knowing you’re not expecting anyone because you don’t really have any friends.

Who could it be?

As you hesitantly reach for the doorknob, opening the door your heart skips a beat seeing before you, a mysterious, handsome man on your doorstep.

Tall with black fluffy hair and sideburns, wearing a white high collar dress shirt, black pants, black shoes, holding a bouquet of flowers with the most beautiful smile you have ever seen.

“H-Hi! Uh, hello, ma’am! I just wanted ta come over and introduce myself.”

You just stand there, a little stunned. Lips parting slightly as he holds out his hand, noticing a gold bracelet around his wrist “I’m Elvis Presley...your new neighbour.” You look up at his face. Your whole body feeling the tiniest shiver go down your spine being met with piercing but soft blue eyes.

The thought of giving the man a handshake, never once crossing your mind.

“Neighbour?” You ask in the quietest voice.

He nods, grinning as his hand retracts back to his side. “Yes ma’am, I moved in right next door.” Pointing towards the house to your right.

You crane your head out of the doorway seeing the roof of a cream-coloured car just over the top of your peeling white picket fence and turn back nodding silently, still stunned by how handsome he is.

“...Uh huh”

The man awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, breathing out a shy laugh. “Uh…I came here from Las Vegas and uh…I originally came from Tupelo, North of here? I-I was workin’ in the big city but thought I would come back for somethin’ different.” The man lifts his eyes up to yours again, smiling a little not really knowing why he’s explaining himself but those eyes are making your heart skip another beat.

“So uh…w-what’s your name, ma’am?”

You take a small step back, lowering your head the slightest bit as you begin to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Feeling your cheeks start to warm. “Y/n…”

“Y/n…nice to meet you.”

You just give him a small smile as he shows his grin, a crooked grin, and quickly you avert your eyes from him, soon hesitantly moving back when he lifts his arm showing you the bouquet of flowers he’s holding. Small white, yellow flowers and little green leaves wrapped delicately with a piece of white lace.

“I uh…Here’s some flowers. Thought it would be a nice neighbourly thing to give.” He explains, shoving a hand into his pocket as you carefully take the bouquet.

Then your heart thumps loudly, not loud enough for you to notice. It is a nice thing to give, you think to yourself. It’s not big and fancy like the ones you see in the magazines but the combination of simple flowers makes you smile a little wider. No one has given you flowers before.

“Welp, I better…go back home.” He sighs, his words snapping you out of your thoughts. “I uh…have a few more things to unpack.” Smiling sheepishly as you glance back down at the colours in your arms.

“Hope ya like the flowers.”

You reluctantly nod and as he quietly says goodbye and walks back down your footpath and down the side path to his house. You take a moment before closing the front door and making your way into the kitchen.

Smiling down at the pretty little things.

Opening a cabinet, you find a vase for the flowers and after a while of finishing the arrangement, you set them in the middle of your small dining table, and just stand there quietly. Admiring the colours, making that smile you had before appear on your face again but then it falters when you suddenly realise your heart is pounding in your chest.

Your mind drifting to that man with the crooked grin. What was his name again?

Elvis Presley?

…

Turning on your heel, you move over to the kitchen counter looking through the small window above the sink, peeking just over your fence. Through the other house’s window, seeing your neighbour standing in what you presume is his living room, running his hand through his hair and taking a small sip from a green cup.

Is he…the adventure? You think, out of nowhere.

Heart jumping loudly in your ears as his eyes lock onto yours.

Is he going to be the one helping you take that step out of your perfect little life?

[mynameismckenziemae]

hiiiii, I love your writing so much it's not even funny. I've become obsessed. Idk if your requests are open so just ignore this if they are.

I wanted to make a request for a scenario but I couldn't decide between Jake or Bob cause i love them both equally. Soooo... I'm just gonna let you decide, if that's ok.

Anyway the scenario is they were on a no-contact mission for like a month or something. Reader has no idea if they're even alive and is kinda having a hard time with it. Then when they they come home and find reader in the kitchen (still not having heard anything about/from them) listening to some slow music like "can't help falling in love" or something. And after the initial "oh my god you're alive" moment they just slow dance in each others arms and its just very domestic and fluffy.

Sorry if this is confusing

I LOVE THAT SONG (all versions but Elvis’s is my favorite). It was Bradley and Rowan’s song in She’s a Fire.

Here you go! Hope you like it!

A picture of you and Jake on your wedding day is all your phone shows when you check it for the umpteenth time. No missed calls, no new texts, no nothing.

It’s been 37 days since he kissed you goodbye in the early morning hours, his voice thick with emotion as he told you he loved you. 888 hours since he paused on the way to his truck to take a good look at you on the front porch, barefoot and wearing nothing but his threadbare tee, committing every detail to memory. 53,280 minutes since you watched him drive away, not knowing if that would be the last time you’d see him alive.

Deployments are never easy but this one was different. The nights before he ships out are always hot and heavy, spent making love and wringing pleasure from the other. But not this time. This time, he just held you tight to his chest all night, pressing kisses to your shoulder and trying to suppress his tears.

He was scared. And that made you scared.

You leave your phone in the kitchen while you wander to the living room, starting the record player before sitting on the couch and pulling the blanket that still smells faintly of his cologne over you. The wedding album sitting on the coffee table catches your eye.

You looked good that day, but Jake had been breathtaking in his fitted tux and dimpled smile. Tears fill your eyes as you flip through the pages and a sob lodges in your throat when you come across your favorite picture of him. His teary eyes so full of love as his eyes met yours walking down the aisle toward him.

The familiar chords of your first dance song play and you stand abruptly, heading back to the kitchen. It’s too much, yet you don’t turn it off.

Wise men say…

Opening the bottle proves difficult with shaky hands.

Only fools rush in…

“Fuck,” you wince, setting the bottle down with a clunk, Jake’s favorite whiskey burning the whole way down.

“But I can’t help falling in love with you,” Jake’s voice continues the song softly in your ear.

The rush of relief is so sudden as you spin towards him with a sob, you feel faint.

But he’s got you.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, holding your trembling body to his chest, “I’m here. I’ve got you, baby.”

“What happened-when did-“ you stutter, overwhelmed.

“I just got in,” he murmurs against the top of your head, “I tried calling but you didn’t answer.”

“I left it in here because I was checking it obsessively,” you reply, sinking into the comfort of his arms, “sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head, swaying you to the music still playing, “all that matters is I’m here now. With you.”

You nod, lifting your head to give him a tender kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he gives you a watery smile in return.

[thegettingbyp2]

It's Really Happening

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[prsleysbabe]

Summary: When Elvis comes home, he finds you dancing and singing around his room and he can't help but admire you.

Warnings: Bad writing from me, fluff, no smut

Elvis has been away all day due to rehearsals for his first show in vegas, plus, a production company is making a movie showing how Elvis rehearses, how much time he spends getting ready for a show and showing how Elvis performs.

From this you have been feeling quite lonesome being in his place all alone all day. To try and lift your spirits you take a nice bath, put on your favourite blue babydoll dress, do your hair all nice and put on some makeup and make your way over to Elvis' record player. You sit on the floor looking through all his records and some of your own before you find one of your favourite. A vinyl of 'The Ronettes' and it has one of your all time favourite songs on it.

You get all excited and start taking the vinyl out of its packaging. Once you have it out, you delicately place it in the record player and place the needle on top of the vinyl.

As the music starts playing, you turn the knob round that controls the volume and have it all the way around.

You begin to feel the serotonin starting to seep into brain and instantly you feel so much better as you start dancing and singing. You grab your hairbrush and start singing into it and start standing on the furniture, pretending that you are doing a little performance.

While you are so occupied with the music, Elvis stops behind the door before opening it because he suddenly hears your voice and the music, he can hear you singing your pretty little heart out and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

Elvis slowly opens the door and closes it behind him, attempting not to make a single noise so that he doesn't alert you.

You and Elvis have only been dating for a few months and he knows that it takes you a bit of time to get fully comfortable with someone and this is the first time he has seen this side to you. Elvis leans against the doorway and looks right at you as you continue dancing and singing.

"So won't you, please, be my, be my baby, be my little baby, my one and only, say you'll be my darlin', be my, be my baby. Be my baby now, my one and only, woah-oh-oh-oh". As you finish singing this part of the song, you turn around and see Elvis standing there, watching you and smiling. You stop dancing instantly and go dead silent.

"Don't stop on my account, honey. I was quite enjoying it" Elvis teases as he pushes himself off the wall and starts walking over to you.

"I uh.. I didn't hear you come in". You say while all embarrassed. You swear you can feel your cheeks go scolding hot and you know that Elvis is probably looking at a very red face now.

"Awe don't be embarrassed, honey. Hell after a performance like that I should make you one of my little dancers and maybe you can be my backing vocals on stage". Elvis continues to tease and he lets out a little chuckle.

"Elvis stop. Can we just forget about this please". You exclaim, starting to get a little agitated as you start walking away from him into the lounge area.

Elvis watches as you walk away from him and starts feeling a little guilty for teasing you. He follows you and catches your arm in his wrist and pulls you toward him.

"Honey, I didn't mean to upset ya. I just never seen you act like that and be so comfortable. I liked seeing my girl like that, don't be upset me" Elvis says to you as he reaches up and strokes your cheek with his thumb. "You don't gotta be embarrassed none, not round me, okay honey?". He asks you with reassurance in his eyes.

You give him a little nod

"Good". He smiles, "Now give me a hug, Darlin". He says to you.

You smile lightly and reach up to wrap your hands around his neck as he wraps his arms around your figure and places a small kiss on your head.

[hooked-on-elvis]

"It's No Fun Being Lonely"

Home Recording - February 1966

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

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

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

[elegantauthor]

Saving Grace Chapter 12

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Aurora Stark

Summary: Bucky returns to his apartment in Brooklyn, alone.

Warnings: none

Series Masterlist

Bucky felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. From the moment Aurora went missing, he operated on autopilot. The only other thing that managed to incite his ire was when Sam told him that Karli contacted his sister, Sarah, in Delacroix, Louisiana. How the leader of the Flag Smashers procured such intel, neither he nor Sam could figure out.

Every fight thereafter was mechanical, instinctive; he was a soldier in combat. The encounter with the Flag Smashers. Confronting John Walker, the now former Captain America, for the shield.

After parting ways with Sam, Bucky travelled to the first place he could think to find Zemo: the Sokovian Memorial. Gun in the pocket of his coat, he waited.

“We will find him, White Wolf. Leave it to us.” Ayo’s steadfast tenacity roused his dejected spirit, if only momentarily. He didn’t question her loyalty to Aurora. In Wakanda, the two women were inseparable.

“You don’t understand, I can’t—” Tears filled his eyes, as he grasped the gun tighter in his vibranium hand, the metal squealing in protest. “I can’t return to the States without her.” He swallowed around the lump, his voice a throaty rasp when he spoke. “I promised—”

“Aurora is like a sister to me,” said Ayo, her own voice threatening to quiver with emotion. “There is no place Zemo can hide. You look like you’ve been to hell and back. Go home, regroup, then join us.”

That was a compromise to which he could concede. His apartment in Brooklyn, however, offered no solace.

He entered through the front door, leaving it to swing open behind him. Devoid of the warmth and liveliness he’d experienced the past week with Aurora, his demons emerged anew. Hatred crept in, settled in the pit of his stomach, and festered. He hated himself for even thinking it was a good idea to recruit Zemo. He was the one who aided and abetted the criminal’s escape from prison. She was in this predicament because of him.

Sinking to his knees, he clutched his head in his hands. His sobs echoed in the vacancy of the living room, drowning out all the sound from the street—the same backdrop of white noise that lulled him to sleep every night, while he tossed and turned from nightmares. He cried until his heart felt like it was going to implode, and knew he needed to anchor himself; otherwise, he wasn’t going to be of any use to Ayo in their hunt for Zemo.

He slid across the floor to the one possession he brought back from Wakanda following the Blip. An old record player Aurora had gifted him for Christmas the year he’d gotten her the gold chain. With shaky hands, he put the vinyl on the turntable. Their song played, soft and crooning, as Bucky cried until there were no tears left.

~ * ~

Six years ago

“It isn’t much,” said Aurora, looking sheepish as Bucky held the wrapped present in his lap. He almost didn’t want to ruin the paper; the glistening blue snowflakes were nearly as beautiful as her. The box itself was heavy, and whatever was inside it fragile, apparently.

There was just a hint of irony in her choice of wrapping paper. For although it was Christmas Eve, you wouldn’t know it with the sweltering temperatures that permeated the hut. With his one arm, he carefully tore it away, swallowing thickly as he opened the box. The making of tears pooled in his eyes. “Doll…” He was absolutely speechless.

“This goes with it.” From behind her back, Aurora produced a record. “It’s the oldest I could find.”

“Elvis Presley, huh?” She nodded, chewing on her bottom lip—a nervous habit that Bucky found endearing. “Let’s hear it.”

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you

Swallowing again, Bucky stood, towering over Aurora who sat cross-legged on the floor of the hut. He offered her his hand. “Can I have this dance?” he asked, feeling every bit like the man from the Forties. She rose gracefully, as he pulled her to her feet, marveling at how her body contoured perfectly with his. With his one hand on the small of her back, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, shuddering a breath at the lyrics.

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can’t help falling in love with you?

As they danced slowly to the music, holding each other, Bucky knew his life would never be the same. For the first time since his recovery, he welcomed the uncertainty. Even with no security net to catch him, he had her.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can’t help falling in love with you

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

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

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

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 015: Eddie, Do You Copy?

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

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

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

word count: 5.8k words

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

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

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

♡

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

6:38 AM.

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

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

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

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

You smile to yourself. Called it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hand soap, dryer sheets, FUCKING DO PAYROLL

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

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

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

But one photo catches your eye the most.

‘MOMMY & ME: LIZ + EDDIE , 1994��

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She was pretty, wasn’t she?”

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

You gulp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, hun.”

You can get used to this.

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

"Morning, Hargrove," Steve responds.

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

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

"Morning..." you pathetically respond.

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

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

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

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

"Oh geez."

"I know."

“How was Max?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You know, like how friends usually talk.

“It was fun while it lasted…”

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

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

Eventually his hand intertwines with yours.

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

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

You look back towards Eddie's room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You share a laugh with him again.

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

“I can sure try though, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NEWBY’S COFFEE ROASTERS: Even Superheroes Need Coffee!

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

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

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

Steve nods at Eddie’s remark.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you guys-” you begin.

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

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

7:59 —> 8:00

Eddie’s phone rings.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"As you should, sir."

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

——————— 🛒—————

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

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

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

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

“Mike to Munson, do you copy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Byers-squared.”

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

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

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

“Pulling in now. Over.”

“Us too. Over.”

“Over and out, boys.”

————- 🚐———-

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

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

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

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

She tsks as she clicks her seatbelt in place.

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

Eddie holds up an eighth.

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

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

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

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

“Oh, hey Shy Girl!” she cheers.

You smile at her contently. Securely.

“Hey, Neens.”

Eddie starts up his van once again.

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

“Not this again,” Nina mutters.

“Oh boy…” you add.

SKRRRT!

———— 🏠 ————

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

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

He laughs at that one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well aren’t you a hero,” you jest.

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

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

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

Percocet and Motrin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh this goes deeper than you thought.

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

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

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

The realization nearly knocks the wind out of you.

Wayne is sick. He almost looks terminal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No worries, doll.”

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

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

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

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

“What are your oxygen levels looking like?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He starts back over to you.

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

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

He sees you frowning, thinking.

“…You okay?” he attempts with you.

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

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

"How bad is it?"

"Stage 3. Lung cancer."

"How long has he had it?"

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

He gestures around his own lungs.

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

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

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

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

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

“And Hellfire?”

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

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

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

“It be like that sometimes.”

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

Your heart just about shatters.

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

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

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

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

"Are you alright?"

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

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

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

"Are we alright?" you question him.

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

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

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

You are absolutely more than sure.

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

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

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

“I like stubborn though.”

“You and me, Eddie.”

“You and me, sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t believe this is real life.

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

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

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

[tofuuntitled]

Based on an animatic from ‚Jude‘ on youtube titled ‚welcome home-record player‘

I thought it was a cute moment do I wanted to catch that inspiration,

almost half a year later I‘ve finished it 😂

Song text from Elvis Presley‘s: ‚Suspicous Minds‘

[skyguygeneraltano]

Ponyboy comes home from college for Thanksgiving headcanon

Darry walks in, sees Steve, Two-Bit and Sodapop in a state of shock

Darry: What happened?

Sodapop shakes his head: It’s Ponyboy, Darry

Darry’s heart drops: Oh no, did he make it back

Two-Bit, wipes tear: Yes, but he’s…changed

Darry, thinking Ponyboy has fallen into the wrong crowd: What do you mean?

Steve, staring off into the distance: He was listening to…I can’t say it

Darry: To what?

Sodapop: The Beatles, Darry, he was listening to…*them*

Darry: *gasps* No…you must be mistaken

Two-Bit: Those university kids got your brother…he is into…

*Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds plays in the distance, Darry tiptoes into Ponyboy’s room, and there is Ponyboy next to his record player*

Ponyboy, innocently : Hey Darry, my roommate gave me his extra Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band vinyl :-)

Darry, drops the mail: Ponyboy how could you?

Ponyboy: What?

Darry: We are an Elvis Presley household

Ponyboy: Eh, Elvis’s stuff just don’t do it for me anymore, the Beatles are just better

Darry: Get out you, you…traitorous child

[eptodaytommorowforever]

Events In The History And Of The Life Of Elvis Presley Today On The 1st Of August In 1969.

Elvis Presley The 1969 Press Conference August 1st, 1969 Vegas NV.

Q: Elvis 'Why have you waited so long to perform Live again?' 'Did you return to Live Performing because of the Phenomenal successes of Wales Singer Tom Jones and British Crooner Engelbert Humperdinck?'

Elvis: (Elvis shook his head at the suggestion) 'I think they are great', 'But My decision to return was made in 1965, and it was hard to wait', ... 'I don't think I could have waited any longer' ... 'We had to finish up the movie commitments we had before I could start on this ... 'I missed the Live contact with an Audience'. 'It was getting harder and harder to sing to a camera all day'.

Q: 'Can you remember first coming to Vegas?'

Elvis: 'Sure, I was 19 years old'. (Elvis was actually 21) 'Nobody knew Me'.... 'Whe're you from...Boy?, They would ask'.

Q: 'How do you like being a father?'

Elvis: 'I like it!'

Q: 'Are you and Priscilla planning on adding to your Family?'

Elvis: 'You'll be the first to know'.

Q: 'What things do you do when you are at home at Graceland?'

Elvis: 'I ride horse back, swim and talk with the tourists hanging out at the gates'.

Q:'How does your wife feel about you being a Sex Symbol again?'

Elvis: 'I don't know... you would have to ask her'.

Q: 'Do your Wife and Daughter, Lisa Marie accompany you?'

Elvis: 'Priscilla is here,... but my Daughter is in L.A. with her Nanny'.... 'She could not make it'.

Q: 'How do you Manage to stay so Young?'.

Elvis: 'I don't know'. 'One of these days I'll probably fall apart'. 'I feel, I've just been lucky'.

Q: 'Are you tired of your present type of movie, have you grown tired of the movie plots?'

Elvis: 'Yes, I want to Change the type of Script I've been doing'.

Q: 'What kind of Scripts do you like?'

Elvis: 'Something with Meaning'.... 'I'm going after More Serious Material'. 'I couldn't dig always playing the Guy who'd get into a fight, Beat the Guy up,.., and in the Next Shot Sing to Him'.

Q: 'Do you think it was a mistake to do so many Movie Sound-Track Albums?'

Elvis: 'I think so'..... 'When you do Ten songs in a movie,they can't all be good songs'. 'Anyway',.. 'I got tired of Singing to Turtles'.

Q: 'When you met the Beatles', 'No press was allowed, why was that?'

Elvis: 'I think because we could relax more that way and we could talk Candidly'.

Q: 'Do you like to wear leather-jackets, like the one you wore in your TV-Special?'

Elvis: 'No'.... 'I hate wearing them, because they are too hot when your working'.

Q: 'Where did you get the design for your stage out-fits?'

Elvis: 'I got the idea by a Karate-gi,.. I once had'.

Q: 'What do you think of the Hollywood scene?'

Elvis: 'I just don't go for it....', 'I have nothing against it, but I just don't enjoy it'.

Q: 'How long did you rehearse for these shows?'

Elvis: 'I practised for nearly 3 months', 'Today I went through Three Complete Dress Rehersals'. 'This was the fourth time I did that show today', ... 'I'm really Beat'.

Q: 'How did you choose the songs for the show?'

Elvis: 'I just sang My Favorite Songs'.

Q: 'Do you want to do more Live Shows?'

Elvis: 'I want to ... I would like to play all over the World' ... 'I chose Las Vegas to Play First, Because it is a place People come to from All Over'.

Q: 'Are you trying to change your image with songs like 'In the Ghetto'?

Elvis: 'No, 'Ghetto' was such a great song, I just couldn't pass it up after I heard it'. 'There are a lot of New Records out now that have the same sound I started, ... But they're Better', ... 'I mean, you can't compare a song like 'Yesterday' with 'Hound Dog', ... Can You?'

Q: 'Why have you led such a secluded life all these years?'

Elvis: 'It's not secluded Honey' ... 'I'm just Sneaky'.

Q: 'Is it true you dye your hair?'

Elvis: 'Sure, I have always done it for the movies'.

Q: 'Did you enjoy performing Live again?'

Elvis: 'Yes ! ... 'This has been one of the Most Exciting Nights of my Life'.

Q: 'Did you feel nervous during the show?'

Elvis: 'For the First Three songs or so, I didn't feel relaxed until after Love me Tender before I loosened up' ... 'Then I Thought, What The Heck ... Get With It Man!, or you might be out of a Job Tomorrow'.

Q: 'Do you have a share in the International Hotel?'

Elvis: 'No, I have not'.

Q: 'Why did you choose a Negro backup group?:

Elvis: 'They help get a feeling and get to my soul'.

Q: 'Have you ever seen England's top singer, Cliff Richard?'

Elvis: 'Yes, I met him in Germany a long time ago'.

[Elvis was mistaken, he did not meet Cliff, but Cliff did try to meet Elvis, he visited one of Elvis' residences in Germany but unluckily for Cliff, Elvis was not home. Possibly Elvis was told the story and these years later miss-remembered the story. Memory does play tricks on people.]

Q: 'Mr. Presley',.. 'I've been sent here by 'Lord Sutch Enterprises' "To offer you One Million Pounds Sterling to make Two Apperances at the Wembley Empire Stadium in England',.... 'This Price will include a Documentary that will be Filmed during and after the Shows'. 'It will Only Take 24 Hours'.

Elvis: (Elvis points to Col.Parker) 'You'll have to ask him about that'.

Colonel Parker: 'Just put down the desposit'.

Elvis: 'Elvis, how much do you get paid for these performances?'

Colonel Parker: 'We are pleased with the deal. I am glad He is Here'.

Q: 'Is it true you get paid in International-stocks?'

Colonel Parker: (Parker Speaks up again) 'Certainly not'.... 'The only thing we get for Free are the Crickets in the Rooms'.

Q: 'Do you still own about 10 cars?'

Elvis: 'I have never owned that many'.... 'Only 4 or 5 at most'.

Q: 'Elvis is there any Other Individual You would Rather Be?'

Elvis: 'Are you Kidding?

Q: What’s it like to be the Grandfather of rock and roll?

(laughs). I didn’t know that I was.

Q: Are you doing shows because of the recent success of Tom Jones in cabaret?

No, that’s not the reason. Although I admire Tom Jones very much, and think he’s a great talent. I guess I felt it was time to do live shows because I missed doing them.

Q: I noticed in your repertoire you did some Beatles songs. What do you think of the Beatles and their material?

I admire the Beatles and think they are very good. The lyrics of pop songs are getting better all the time, they have more meaning.

Q: When you met the Beatles, why was there no press allowed?

I guess it was because we could relax and talk friendly to each other.

Q:  Did anyone influence you in your career?

Yes, people like him. (Elvis introduces Fats Domino). This is one of my influences from way back, Fats Domino. Just look at those rings and that diamond watch, aren't they fabulous?

All color candid photo's here taken at Elvis Presley's 1969 vegas press conference.