#elvis really did owe everything to his fans

[whositmcwhatsit]

There's a story about the top one. Ed Bonja was holding his camera when Elvis came out of the toilet. Ed started taking pictures and Elvis noticed and sort of paused. Ed reassured Elvis that he didn't have to pose, and Elvis said, "Oh, I'm not going to pose. What do you want me to do, hold my dick in my hand?"

And that's what my helpful brain thinks of whenever I see that photo.

Elvis and his (many) same-model-suits in different colors always makes me think about the words (I think it was Joe Esposito) said about him, something like: "When Elvis liked something, he went all the way".

This is only one of his same model suits in different colors.

[butler-on-beale-street]

Unforgettable | E!Austin Butler X Plus!Reader | Part 10

Warnings: description of bruises associated with SA, lots of fluff, mention of revenge.

A/N: Unforgettable is back after a long hiatus! I missed this series so much, and it was past time to come back. I sincerely hope you guys enjoy.

Word Count: 5.6K

Summary: After a terrible run in with scummy Adam, Elvis flies across the United States to find you. What you thought would be a terrible day after the attack leads you into a surprising twist as Elvis wakes you...little do you know his time with you is also paired with a plan for revenge.

You scooted over to give Elvis a place to sit, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as it sank in that he was here in Memphis, and not somewhere in Hollywood.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, sitting up against your headboard. The painful rigidity of your body caused you to wince. “I mean–” you threw your hands up, realizing how bluntly you had spoken. “I mean, I’m so happy to see you, but how are you here?”

“Baby, are you kidding? Evelyn told me what happened. I left California immediately to come home– and It was quite the ordeal to try to get here, let me tell you.” He grinned softly. You smiled. He sat up cross-legged, reaching for your hands. 

“What about the movie? Aren’t you going to get in trouble? Are you gonna be kicked off of it?” 

He placed his hand on your shoulder. “Shhh. Quite frankly, I don’t give a damn what happens. I made my choice. I needed to be here. With you.” Despite the terrible circumstance, you felt loved and protected. “And I won’t say sorry for taking care of the people I love, no matter how much money or fans I lose.” 

“Wait–You love me?” You said, turning to him, eyeing him intently. You couldn’t help the heat rushing up your neck to the apples of your cheeks. His face did the same, reddening from the question. 

“I–well, uh,” He stumbled, a soft rosy blush creeping up his neck and into the apples of his cheeks. You chuckled lightly at his endearing expression. “Listen, Cheeks. I-I have to be honest with you.” 

You felt your heart flip in your chest and land in your gut when he spoke. His demeanor switched suddenly into something much more sensitive and careful, and because you hadn’t quite seen him like that yet, it almost terrified you. 

“It’s not the right time to say this, but it’s been on my mind so heavy that I keep messin’ words up on set. My mama says I look smitten and goofy,” He continued to ramble. Your eyes sparkled, your lips curling into a grin which grew wider and wider as Elvis continued to trip nervously over the next words. 

“I’ve never met anyone like you. Not ever. You are the most…refreshing thing to come into my life in so long. You are my very first thought in the morning and the very last at night–And really, I never thought I’d say that I love a woman before we’ve officially gone steady, but I can’t help it.” You couldn’t help the grin that was  blooming across your face, wishing he’d stop talking and kiss you instead. “I just want to ask you one thing. Y/n. My beautiful Cheeks. Will you be my girlfriend?”

 You chuckled softly and brought your hands up to caress the curve of his cheeks, pulling him in for a soft kiss, offering a non-verbal answer first. “Yes, Elvis. Of course!” You looked into his eyes, feeling the warmth in his gaze. It comforted you into almost forgetting the sordid details of what had happened in his absence. He leaned into your embrace, gently kissing the soft curve of your lips, which sent sparks which crackled through your body like lightning–and suddenly everything felt like it would be okay. You reached your arms forward, pulling him further against you upon the bed. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at the bedroom door while you pulled him down. 

“Oh! Ow!” Elvis spat, slamming his elbow into the corner of your bedside table on the way down. 

“Oh!” You covered your mouth from surprise. “Oh my goodness, are you okay?” You asked, backing off of him. 

“I’m fine.” He chuckled softly, his lips curled in an embarrassed grin. “Better than fine,” He assured you, returning to kiss you once more. You could feel the tight ache in your muscles, but quickly threw away the intrusive thoughts of Adam that crept within your consciousness. Elvis had turned the entire situation on its head today, securing his place within your life. You knew that as soon as he could, he’d make sure that Adam would never think of saying your name or expressing a single thought about you–especially if he wanted to be able to walk away unscathed. 

***

“I’m assuming you two are official now?” Evelyn said, sitting in her father’s arm chair, stuffing potato chips in her mouth. “I could hear you giggling like a little girl from the kitchen.” You walked through the living room hand in hand with Elvis. You didn’t immediately respond, but your face said everything. “Yay! I’m so happy for you guys! What about those crazy fangirls, though? Or the media,” She said, chewing with her mouth open. “Or the photographers? What happens when they find out?” You watched as Momo ate the chips that managed to fall messily to the floor. 

“Woah, woah, woah kid.” Elvis said with a grin, holding his hand in the air to stop her. “One thing at a time.” 

“Well, she’s got a good point, Son.” Uncle Harold said, walking into the living room, straightening his tie and combing his hair back, obviously getting ready to head out of the house. “I don’t want my girl dealing with all that.” 

“Uncle Harold. I love you. I love you so much, but I am an adult. I can take care of myself, and I’m sure that Elvis will take care of me.” 

Uncle Harold straightened his back, heaving a deep sigh. “I know you are, honey. But considering what just happened…and what happened at my store, I can’t help but be the bad guy–at least for a while.” 

“You’re not the bad guy. You take care of me and protect me. You always have.” 

“Sir, my hand to God–I’ll never hurt her or let anyone hurt her if I have anything to say about it,” Elvis said, pulling his arm around you. 

“Just prepare yourself. Both of you. Prepare for there to be fallout.” Uncle Harold said, bending to kiss you on the forehead before heading out of the door. “Welcome to the family, son,” He said, extending his hand forward for Elvis to take. 

***

“I want to meet your family, Elvis. I think it’s time.” You told him, folding the load of laundry that Uncle Harold had finished and brought you. It was nice having Elvis there with you, not expecting anything, but just happy to be in your presence. He sat on your bed, leaning back against your headboard. 

“My family?” He said with a grin. You watched him, knowing he was about to say something smart. You nodded. “I thought I told you I’m an orphan…long lost cousins and aunties have come out of the woodworks since the first album, let me tell you.” You reached for one of your sweaters, bunching it into a ball and tossing it at Elvis, hitting him squarely in the chest.. 

“Seriously, Elvis.” You said, trying your bed to maintain a resolved expression and failing. “I wanna meet them. I think I deserve to.” 

Elvis leaned forward, straightening his body, setting your sweater to the side, his grin lowering into something more resolved. “You deserve the world, Y/n. Best believe I promise to give it to you. Ya know…I told Mama about you.” He said. You watched his lips move, your head swimming with just how effortlessly beautiful he was–without even trying.

“You did? What did you say? Nothing bad, I hope. You didn’t tell her about–”

“No, no. Of course not,” He cut you off immediately, pulling his hand up to stop you. “No. I told her that I came home to visit someone special. I told her about you and couldn’t stop blushin.’” he said, narrowing his eyes with mischief. “She knew immediately that it was a girl.”

“Oh yeah? I’ve got Elvis Presley blushing?” You said, twisting back and forth like a kid in a candy shop. 

“Is that so hard to believe?” He asked flirtatiously. His eyes sparkled, causing your belly to flip. “Ever since that first date, you’re all I can think about, Cheeks. Maybe even since that first day when I met you in the avalanche of books.”

“Really?” You asked, still finding it incredibly difficult to believe that Elvis Presley found that much interest in you, the chubby, average, petite girl. “What made you choose me, Elvis?” You asked boldly. You fidgeted as you waited for his answer, busying your hands by folding the rest of your laundry. 

“I didn’t have to choose you,” He said simply. “Wanna know what the first thing was that I noticed about you?” He asked, looking intently at you. You nodded, genuinely curious as to what he would say. 

“Your beautiful smile,” He said, picking up the  sweater you had thrown at him. He began to stroke the fabric absently between his fingers as he spoke. He looked up at you slowly. “You made my heart flip out of my chest that day. I was like a newborn stag that day. Barely able to walk straight. That’s why I wouldn’t leave. Couldn’t. Because of you.”

“Me?” You asked, almost confused. 

“Yes, you. Why’s it so hard to believe? He asked with a wide smirk, almost entertained at your disbelief. 

“I’m not used to–this,” you said, referring to yours and Elvis’s relationship. “I’ve never really been in a relationship before. I’m not used to attention. I’ve always been known as the smart girl. The big girl. Never pretty or popular.” You spoke honestly, and it surprised you with how easy it was to tell Elvis the truth. It was because you trusted him. 

“Cheeks, I don’t give a damn what people say about us,” he said, setting the sweater down and crossing his arms across his chest. “I care about you. If anyone dares say something to you or me, I will knock their front teeth in,” he said. You watched his features tighten at the thought of anyone saying disparaging comments to you. “Like that sorry toad,” he spat. “He will get his day in Hell, that’s for sure. I don’t know how yet, but trust me, it will be better than simply beating his sorry ass one good time.” 

“Elvis,” You said, narrowing your gaze. “I’m okay, really. He just scared mea bit.” You said, shrugging off the true seriousness of the situation. 

“Just scared you? Honey, have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” He asked, his eyes widening with concern. “Sweetheart, you’re bruised all over your arms and neck. I’ve been trying not to look. If I do, I will waste my time with you thinking about how I want to wring his goddamn neck.” You noticed as he swallowed nervously, or angrily. You couldn’t really tell. His fists bunched and released within his lap. 

Your hands snaked up your body, touching your skin in the tender areas. You hadn’t looked in the mirror, it was true. You winced as you touched the painful spots. The shock of the situation had deemed you complacent to everything he had done to you. Quite frankly, you didn’t want to think about it, because if you did, you’d fall apart in front of Elvis, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Adam wasn’t worth it. 

“Hey, hey,” He murmured softly. “I’m sorry, honey. I- I made this about me.” 

“It’s alright. Listen, I  still want to meet your Mom, your Dad,” you said, sighing. “I guess I’ll  just wear a turtleneck or something.” Elvis eyed you skeptically.  

“You’re gonna cook alive, darlin’. It’s hot as Hell outside.” Elvis said, his eyebrows pulling upward, questioning you. 

“Well, do you have a better idea?” You asked him. He shook his head no. “I just don’t want to show up meeting your family with bruises all over.” 

“Well, we can always wait until I get back,” He said. “They’re not going anywhere.” 

You sighed with disappointment. “Okay.” You both sat together for a long, quiet moment before he spoke again.

“Oh Cheeks, if it means that much to you, we will make a day out of it. I know for a fact that Mama and Daddy are gonna love you.”

“Turtleneck it is,” You said, a smile returning to your cheeks.

Elvis got up from the bed and came up behind you, hugging you gently around the waist. “You’re gonna be a steamin’ pot roast by the end of the afternoon,” He said, kissing you softly on your cheek and ear. “My little pot roast.”

“You are a strange man,” you said, turning to look up at him. 

“Eh, I usually get away with it,” He said with a sexy wink. You pushed him away with your hands on his chest. “Go hang with Evey and Uncle Harold for a minute. Let me get dressed,” You said, chuckling. 

With the door finally shut behind you, you made your way into your connected bathroom and finally took a look  at yourself for the first time since the attack. Your face remained untouched, yet your arms had bloomed in ugly bruises. It was easy to map where Adam had assaulted you. Small, purple splotches cropped out upon your skin in lasting evidence of his touch.  Looking at the dark, ugly spots made you sick, flipping your gut in a sickening wallop. You gripped the countertop of the sink, forcing yourself to look away. Even your hands were bruised, but not obviously noticeable. Evidence of the assault was all over your body; if you felt like you couldn’t look at yourself before, these marks made you an ‘untouchable.’ You sighed disgustedly, turning away from the mirror and sauntered out of the bathroom. You got dressed, choosing a maroon pair of corduroy slacks to pair with a white ribbed turtleneck that did manage to conceal most of the visible bruises on your skin. You primped extra, taking time to curl your hair and pin it nicely, applying tasteful makeup to your cheeks, lips and lashes. You hoped that this extra effort would distract for the horrid truth underneath it all. 

“How do I look?” You asked hesitantly, walking into the living room where Elvis sat with Uncle Harold, discussing something about football. “You look absolutely beautiful, honey!” Uncle Harold said, a proud smile spreading on his face. 

“I agree. You look wonderful, Baby.” Elvis agreed. Uncle Harold eyed Elvis pointedly, almost causing you to snort. 

“Thank you.” You offered them both a warm smile. 

“You ready?” Elvis asked, stuffing his hand in his pocket to retrieve his keys. You nodded, joining him as he got up and headed towards the front door. 

“You two have fun. When can I expect her back?” Uncle Harold asked. He didn’t seem as protective as he had been before, which surprised you. 

“I’ll have her home right after dinner, sir.” Elvis assured him respectfully. 

“Have her home by eleven,” he said, extending your curfew. You were surprised, given how tough he was with Elvis. He seemed to be coming around. Elvis turned to him with surprise.

“Eleven?” He asked, repeating the time. 

“Don’t make me regret it,” He said with a slight grin. “Now, shoo! Go have fun.” You watched as your uncle’s lips turned up in a slight grin, though he did his best to hide it. 

Elvis opened the front door for you, and he followed you into the front yard. “Where’s your car? Did you park it in a hiding spot somewhere?” You asked prematurely before noticing the new car in the driveway. “What’s this?” You asked, stopping and turning to him. 

“I thought the Cadi was a bit too…”

“Ostentatious?” 

“Yeah, that word.” 

You couldn’t help but grin, slightly embarrassed. “You’re my little bookworm,” He teased, reaching for your hand, squeezing it softly. “I got the new car so that it would be easier for me to visit. Not as many questions asked, you know?” He asked, smoothing down his hair with his free hand. He jingled the keys in his pocket, pulling them out and unlocking your door for you, letting you get in first. The car was brand new, and sparkled a bright blue. The interior was fabricated in beautiful moisturized leather the color of chocolate brown. 

“Wow,” you said, smoothing your hands over the leather. “It’s so pretty.” 

Elvis smiled proudly. “Isn’t it? Chevrolet…built to last, you could say,” he said with a wink, putting the keys into the ignition and starting the car. It came to life in a roar and before you knew it, you both were on the road with the windows down. 

“Oh, I didn’t think to ask,” He said with a chuckle, watching your hair blowing wildly from the air whipping through the vehicle. “I’ll roll them back up.” 

You shot your hand out to stop him. “Don’t! I like it.” You said with a grin. “I’ll fix it later.” 

“You’re gonna look like you went through a wind tunnel, darlin’.” He grinned beautifully, turning his head to look between your face and your messy hair. 

“Yeah, well. I’m feeling a bit rebellious,” you said, turning to him with a grin. 

“Well, you did sneak out of your house at one in the morning to hang out with a man you barely knew. Not to mention he’s famous…and known to be a bad boy.” 

“More like the most famous man in the world,” he added. “Who also has a reputation of being a bad boy,” you corrected. 

He drove for a while, letting the car fill with silence, beside the quiet crackle of the radio. “Elvis?” You asked. 

“Hm?” He asked, eyeing you from over the steering wheel. 

“How is this going to work?” 

“You mean with Mama and Daddy? Baby, they’re not gonna bite you,” He snorted, reaching across the seat for your hand. 

“No, that’s not what I mean. I just–I don’t know how to not feel like…like I’m holding you back. I live in Memphis, but you’re always traveling, and I don’t see that stopping any time soon.”

He was quiet for a moment as he drove. “Can I ask you a question?” He asked, turning the question around. “What’s scaring you the most? Because I can guarantee you that I am in this completely. I’m here for you. And I’m not going anywhere, even when I have to travel. Are you worried that I won’t think of you? Or that I won’t be honest?” He asked.

“No,” You said, although the tone of your voice didn’t inspire confidence. “It’s not that. I know you’re a good guy. It’s just…I don’t know. I just don’t understand why it’s me. I just don’t.” You let your insecurities show once again. You were sure you’d begin to annoy Elvis soon enough with how often you questioned your relationship with him. 

“Can I tell you a story? Or really, can I tell you about someone?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, stopping at a red light. You nodded. 

There’s a woman on set–my co-star, actually.” he began. “She’s absolutely beautiful. Exquisite skin–she’s tall. Dark Hair…Doe-eyed. Full lips that always seem turned up in this little smile, like she knows something that others don’t. Absolutely gorgeous.” You sat in your seat, picking at the beds of your fingernails as you listened to him describing the woman. “Her name is Judy.” 

You couldn’t help the jealousy that began to  burn a hole deep within your gut. It was like corrosive acid. You realized that you were beginning to pick and dig painfully at your skin. You forced yourself to relax. “And?” You asked pointedly. Elvis could sense the tension in your tone, turning to look at you in the moment of stillness. 

“The point is, no matter how pretty she is–and she’s absolutely stunning. Charming, too–” he made sure to clarify. “She’s not you, Cheeks.” You remained silent, watching him intently. 

“I have a reputation of being a ladies man. Of running around–maybe taking advantage of my fame. I won’t pretend it isn’t somewhat true. Or at least in the past. But I’ve never met someone like you.” 

“Never?” 

“Y/n, I’ve never introduced a woman to my family if that tells you anything.”

“Really?” You asked, your eyebrows knitting together. He shook his head. 

“No one serious…I mean, there were a couple in high school, but we went to school together, and I was still a kid. But since then…Since all the blessings, I’ve protected that side of my life–But you? You belong there. You belong in that safe place. I want and need you there–and I’ll prove it to you every single day until you believe me.” 

You couldn’t help the grateful smile that spread across your lips. “I take it that that made you happy?” He asked with a toothy grin. 

“Very much so,” You answered. 

“Can I ask you another question?” He asked. You could see that he was thinking of the question before he had strung the words together, as if the thought had just occurred to him. 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Would you ever go with me to California? While I’m filming?”

“You want me to travel with you?” You asked, turning in your seat, surprised, but elated at the same time. 

“Of course I do. Have you ever traveled that far?” He asked, turning onto the highway that would lead to Graceland. 

“I’ve gone to Mississippi with my family, but besides that, it’s always been Memphis,” you admitted. 

He nodded slowly as he drove. “Do you think your uncle would let you?” 

“He can’t stop me,” You answered righteously. “It’s about time I do some things on my own. I know that you’d take care of me, too.” 

“After she meets you, Mama will run me up the hill if anything happens to you on my watch. I know that she will love you that much.”

“You think so?” you asked, reaching your hands up to smooth your hair as best you could, watching the large wrought-iron fence appear in front of you. 

“I know so.” 

***

The house was large, and almost glowed from atop the hill from how beautiful the exterior was. It was a large home, cloaked in a grove of  Huge oak trees which towered over the property, throwing speckled patches of shade across the emerald lawn. 

“Now I understand why you say you love it here,” you said softly as he drove through the gates. 

“It’s heaven on Earth, trust me. And it’s just the start. I have so many ideas. I can’t wait to show you everything.” He was giddy to show you the house. He had told you that night on the Memphis Riverwalk so many things about his life. He went on at length about his life, spending a lot of time talking about his mom and dad, about how often he had moved growing up and about the friends he had gained from all walks of life because of it. Before the fame, he  had owned practically nothing except for time-beaten children’s guitar that he had played for years. Until moving to Memphis, he never had his own bedroom. He didn’t have fancy clothes. The family had an old, used car that they had packed everything they owned to move from Tupelo to Memphis for a new start. He never truly fit in at school, but at the same time, it never bothered him too much. Elvis knew who he was. He never needed anyone else to tell him who he needed to be, what ideas he had to have, what items or possessions he needed…none of it really mattered. He just wanted music–the one true thing that connected with his soul. Now that he possessed so much fame, there was very little left to want–the very opposite of the life he had growing up. The remarkable thing about Elvis was that no matter the amount of fame or notoriety he had, he never came off jaded; not for an instant. His car pulled around the front of the house, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of it as it stood in its stately elegance. 

“Wow. It’s so beautiful,” You said, struggling not to appear overly astonished. 

“Thank you. Earned every square inch. She is beautiful. Graceland is the perfect name, don’t you think?” He asked, turning off the ignition and stepping out of the car. 

“Thank you,” you said as he opened your door for you. He shut the car door closed before offering you his hand as he proudly walked you to the large front entrance. He tried the door knob and it was unlocked. 

“Mama? Daddy?” Elvis said, his volume rising enough to ring throughout the house. 

“In the kitchen, baby!” A woman’s voice shouted back from somewhere in the house. 

“Come on in, baby.” He said, holding the door open over your head. You ducked and walked into the house, your eyes scanning over how exquisitely decorated it was. The living room was furnished in the finest furniture, including what must have been a fifteen-foot long sofa. It was beautiful–a metallic shade of blue that brightened the room. The curtains were exquisitely white with blue accents draping the top of the windows. The house was carpeted in luxurious frost-white flooring, which almost seemed to glow from the natural light that spilled through the windows. 

“Wow,” you mused. Your face must have gone slack because you heard Elvis snicker beside you. 

“I wanted to paint the walls purple, but Mama wouldn’t let me. She said it looked too ‘garrish,’ he said, pulling his hands out his pockets to create quotes in the air. You grinned at him. 

“Purple?” You asked him, obviously amused. 

“Mmhmm, and pinstripe curtains.” 

“Uh…well.” 

“I know, I know, maybe not the best choice. Mom was right, but I won’t ever tell her…” He pulled his arm around you playfully, pulling you to his side. 

“Tell me what?” Gladys asked with a knowing grin, padding into the living room from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a hand towel that had rested on her shoulder.. There was sweat beading on her brow and she wore a heavily floured apron over her clothing. 

“Nothin’ Mama.” 

“Now who’s this beautiful young lady, Darlin’?” She asked, wiping her brow before returning her hands to her hips. 

“Mama, this is Y/n. She’s the girl I told you about.” You couldn’t help but feel your belly doing somersaults as he openly admitted it to his mother. 

“I hope nothing terrible,” you spoke up with a bright smile. “Mrs. Presley, Elvis has told me so many amazing things about you. Said you’re such a good mama.” 

The apples of Gladys’s cheeks were ringed in fresh blush, and her thin, delicate lips spread into a warm and comforting smile. “He better’ve! I’ve been cookin’ for him all day,” she said, pulling the hand towel from her shoulder and playfully swatting Elvis’s butt with it. 

“Hey!” He chuckled, stepping forward to give his mother a kiss on the cheek, pulling her in for a hug. 

“Well, Miss Y/n, I’m a hugger. You don’t mind, do ya?” She asked, her arms still open. 

“Not at all,” You welcomed her in, taking a step forward. She didn’t know you at all yet, but she still threw her arms around you, nonetheless squeezing you with fondness. You felt the ache again, but you ignored it. 

“Now sweetheart. How on God’s green earth are you not burning alive in this thing?” She said, holding you at your sides as she pulled away from the hug. You remembered that you were wearing the turtleneck. Since you had left your house, it had fit to your body like a second skin, and after a while, you forgot about it. 

“Laundry day,” You began, looking down at the shirt. “Had to pull out random clothes until I could find something clean and cute. Couldn’t meet you looking frumpy, now could I?” You asked, laying on the charm. 

“With as sweet as you are, sugar…you come as you are whenever you want.” You felt drawn to her, and you could understand instantly why Elvis loved her so much. She radiated kindness and charisma and you knew you’d come to crave her attention and care. 

“I got fresh biscuits and gravy goin’ in the kitchen. Should be done just about now. Booby, have you eaten?” She asked, turning over her shoulder at Elvis, who blushed at the nickname. You tried and failed to conceal the enthused expression from your face. He tapped the outside of your thigh silently as you walked with him, his neck and face spreading with embarrassment. 

“I think it’s cute,” You whispered, “booby?” You bumped him back. 

“No mama, I didn’t eat. Serve me double,” He responded to his mother, turning the corner into the large corner where she stood over a deep cast iron skillet, stirring a thick gravy that both smelled and looked absolutely delicious.. 

“Y/n, honey, would you like some?” She asked while fixing Elvis’s plate. 

“Sure!” You said enthusiastically, before your instincts could take over, filling your mind with insecurity. You couldn’t help it; years of ridicule–both from yourself and others, had made you clam up at the mention of food, particularly in front of others. You pushed down the feeling, deciding instead to smile, joining Elvis at the casual dining table in the kitchen. “This place is so gorgeous,” you said, watching Elvis take a few bites of the meal while Gladys made yours. 

“Just wait until you see the rest,” he said with bright eyes, his mouth half full with food. “It’s not perfect yet, but I really think this is my forever home. Don’t you think, Mama?” Gladys turned, walking the plate of food over to you, setting it down in front of you. 

“Absolutely, baby. I love this home. I was just talking to your grandmother about it,” She said, sighing and taking a seat in the empty chair between you and Elvis.“We’re used to nothin’, let me tell you,” she said mostly to you. “Not a penny matters to us as long as we’ve got each other– but this house certainly feels like the home we’ve always dreamed of, right honey?” She asked, reaching to squeeze Elvis’s shoulder lovingly. 

“Of course, Mama,” Elvis said, chewing another bite.. You took a bite of the food in front of you, immediately feeling your taste buds exploding from the amazing flavor. It transported you through time back to your childhood, when your father and mother waltzed around the kitchen locked within each other’s embrace, absolutely in love. You sat in thought, pondering over how food had the unique and amazing quality to ignite memories, some of which you had forgotten about. 

“What do you think, Y/n?” Elvis asked, snapping you back to attention. 

“What? I’m sorry, what did you say?” You asked. 

“Momma was just talking about the stables. I need to feed the horses. Want to come?” 

“You have horses?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 

“Mmhmm,” He said, standing from the table, taking his plate and setting it in the deep sink. “Two of them. And an ass,” he chuckled, his mother cutting an eye at him. 

“I want more though. There’s a whole lotta land back there. I wanna fill it out with the strongest, most beautiful race horses,” he said, his eyes cast in hopeful dreaming. 

“Well, let’s stay humble with what we’ve got for now, Satnin,” Gladys said, patting Elvis’s back. “You can barely keep up with the two you’ve got. This time last month we had to hire extra housekeepers to shampoo the carpets. Elvis let the horses roam right in. You would have thought this was the stable,” she reached for your plate, using the hand towel on her shoulder to flick off the biscuit flakes from the table onto the floor. You looked up at Elvis with a slightly judgemental expression. 

“I was having fun!” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. 

“If that’s your idea of fun, I am in deep, deep trouble,” you said. 

“He better behave around you, baby. Or I’ll have Vernon chase him down the road with his own cadillac.” 

“Okay, okay Mama,” Elvis interjected, leading his mother towards the back door of the house. “You should show Y/n your vegetable garden–I know how much you love it. I’ve got to make a quick phone call,” he spoke. You raised an eyebrow with curiosity, feeling your anxiety spike slightly knowing you’d be left alone with Elvis’s mother. You wanted to leave the best impression, and truth be told, you didn’t have the best track record of not making a fool of yourself when it came to being nervous around others. 

***

“Red, I need a favor,” Elvis spoke, stroking his chin to comfort himself. 

“What’s the matter, E?” Red spoke on the other side of the phone. “Someone crawl over the fence again? Need backup?” He asked in a long southern drawl. 

“No, no, no,” Elvis gesticulated his hand dismissively though his friend couldn’t see the gesture. “I need you to hire someone at the dealership.” 

“What exactly are you gettin’ at?” He asked. Elvis raked his fingers through his hair, loosening the carefully coiffed style. 

“It’s a long story.” Elvis said. “Meet me at home at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon. I need you to do something for me–and it won’t be pretty.” Elvis didn’t speak further on the phone, saying a curt goodbye before placing the receiver back onto the wall. 

Tomorrow revenge would begin–on his terms.

Taglist: @mamaspresley @anestesia-mxm @misspygmypie @austin-butlers-gf @cozacorner @she-is-juniper @shimmeringlights44 @mariposa-mila @austinelvisimagines @sagesolsticewrites @guns-n-queen @anangelwhodidntfall @avengen @suitrry @eurusthewanderer @domaniquessidehoe @kittenlittle24 @mirandastuckinthe80s @stargiirl27 @maddieks-blog @kyddosebastian @girlnairb @its-funny-til-its-not @im-just-star-dust @venus-haze @groovydeputyfestivalkid @hockeyfootballhoe @21bruhs @thebeatlesbitch @captured-memory @kingelviscreole @adoreyouusugar @slutforblueeyes @theinvisiblecapricorn @ghxst-heart @yagirlalexx @sapph1re @madzandflowerz31 @kaycinema @theloveoftoms @annamarie16 @omgellenlouise @re3kin @feverdawg @cutie-ghost @shynovelist @fxntxsix @rheathesimp @madzandflowerz31 @writeroutoftime @bamitzzsam @meladollsims @mslizziesblog @headfullofpresley@shandis-world @in-my-body-bag @ash-omalley @stitchattacks @fullmetal-falcon @lolllasblog@omgellenlouise@wolffes-cyarika @kaitaesupremacy @tyne18 @marchingicenotes7 @notstefaniepresley @horselover1992 @dkayfixates

[vintagepresley]

I don’t ever really like giving my opinion. But I 100% believe she did it for the fans, Lisa and Elvis. She knew how much that house meant to him and how much he wanted it to be Lisa’s. I feel like people continue to fail to realize that the bank was going to take this house and everything in it. Because he owed them money and no one else but him could pay it and obviously he died. She did what she needed to do to keep that house. I also don’t think people realize that if she did this for financial gain in the beginning why was she only charging five dollars to let people see the house? If that was the case she could’ve been charging more if she really wanted the money. Then on top of that EPE got involved with it and the more it became popular the more they started making money and obviously prices rose. She wasn’t the only one making money from this. I believe in the beginning she definitely did it with Elvis and Lisa in mind and the love Elvis had for this home.

It’s a scary thought but where would this house and his things be if she didn’t do this? If she truly didn’t care about this man or his home she could’ve just let people take it. She could’ve just let his things be sold. I don’t think she had ill intentions at all when it came to making the decision to open the house to the public. She saved and preserved his legacy and for it to continue to be in his family. You don’t have to like her but she deserves some respect for what she’s done.

Why don't people realise the Priscilla movie is not completely accurate and some scenes do not match what is in the book. If I'd true that Lisa Marie Presley confronted Coppola about the movie I would think she knows more than the fans do. I don't like or hate Priscilla. I am just indifferent to her. I will say one thing I don't think she opened Graceland for the fans, Lisa Marie or Elvis. I believe she did it for her own financial gain. If I am wrong then so be it but these are my thoughts.

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Posterity - part 2

Neil x gn!Reader

Chapter 2: Fireworks

(see chapter 1)

summary: New Year’s Eve. You promised your friend you would actually do some socializing, for a change. Let’s see how it goes.

warnings: some swearing, alcohol consumption

author’s note: even though this part of the story has been brewing in my mind for a good while, these two still found a way to surprise me.

3,2k words

The song for this chapter is Hazlett - Fireworks

I’m so grateful there’s so many of you still interested in stories about him. 

And, as always, all feedback is greatly appreciated. A penny for your thoughts?

----

“Wheeler. 8-1-9. Good evening, Operator.”

“Welcome, Agent. How may I assist you today?”

“I need a courier, but the cargo is too *sensitive* to use FedEx and we’re not done here yet.”

“Understood. How big is the parcel?”

“An old-fashioned suitcase? On the heavier side.”

“Copy. Please hold – …someone should be approaching your location any minute now. Anything else I can help you with?”

“I think I see them. Thanks, Operator.”

“Over and out.

—

The end of the year was slower. Most of the operatives were taking some family time, but that didn’t necessarily mean any fewer duties in the office. The teams planned their shifts around the holidays ahead, so everyone got time off when they needed it. You didn’t have any important personal obligations, although not being stuck behind the desk at midnight on New Year’s Eve was a nice perspective, especially since it looked like it was going to be a slow shift anyway.

And for the first time in years, you actually had something planned for the evening.

Might be because you’d promised Alex you would actually do some socializing.

Or because you had no other excuses as they’d accidentally told on you to your mutual friend, Sarah, who was hosting the party.

The effect was still the same - you were going out. It also meant out of your comfort zone, and that included at least a light knot in your stomach, but you kept reminding yourself it wasn’t like you wouldn’t know anyone there. You knew the hostess – …and yeah, that was pretty much it.

So a house full of strangers. Loud and questionable music, probably. Obligatory mingling, most definitely.

Maybe he was right and you were not as high-functioning as you’d like to think.

But first, before having second thoughts could make you cancel plans, you had to finish your work.

The doors clicked and you glanced up, only to see The Protagonist entering the office.

Not a rare sight, as the boss made an effort to personally check on you all from time to time. Always with a hearty smile plastered on his handsome face, and this day was no different.

“How’s my favorite team doing?”

“Favorite?” You smirked. “I bet you say that to all of them, boss.”

He grinned in response. “Doesn’t make it any less true.” You rolled your chair back slightly, and he gave you a small nod, perching on the edge of your desk as usual. “You a big fan of Elvis, Operator?”

Of course, he noticed.

“Not really,” you chuckled, but as he eyed you curiously, you felt that going into details was too much of a risk. Not that relations between office staff and agents were something frowned upon, or bringing personal items to the workspace was against regulations. Still. You simply shrugged. “Long story.”

“I bet it is,” pondered The Protagonist and arched a brow.

Alex could barely contain a knowing beam, so they tried to mask it with a cough and change of topic. “What’s new? Any special events incoming? Spill the tea, boss, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

He was not one to share anything of significance, and you knew the reason. The whole personnel did. Knowledge divided, and everything that came with the statement.

That was why you kept streaming cases back to other teams, after all - as a precaution.

“I just wanted to wish you all a happy New Year. And to tell you how much I appreciate you all.”

“Enough to give us a raise?” cut in Kraig.

He could be the most reserved out of you three, but he was always the one to spot and seize an opportunity.

The boss hummed, amused, then rapped his fingers against your desk and grinned smugly.

“How does 5% sound to you?”

“Make it 7 and we gotta keep that fav title just to ourselves,” said Alex, matching his expression.

“Deal.” The Protagonist reached out his hand and your friend shook it. Only then, he added, “Could have easily pushed for 10, you know.”

“Shit.”

He laughed, but as he slid off your desk, you caught a brief shadow clouding his features. Before you could bite your tongue, you asked quietly, “Everything okay, boss?”

Whatever was bothering him, got quickly hidden under a schooled expression and a trademark smile.

“Of course. Look at the time. Off you go, I bet you have better places to be.”

—

The house was crammed with people, all right. Loud music? Check, even if slightly less questionable than you’d expected.

Or that might have been that second drink in your hand talking.

The lights in the rooms were dimmed, which made it a little easier to navigate through people without getting into too many random conversations. Finally, you noticed a pretty empty area in the library; it looked like a promising spot to get a breather, finish your drink, maybe linger for a while longer and then take French leave.

You leaned against a wall with a quiet sigh. To hell with Alex, you’d socialized enough - and you could still make it back in time to watch fireworks from your apartment.

Laughter erupted somewhere nearby and your eyes landed on a small group of men on the other side of the room, lost in a jovial conversation you couldn’t quite hear. Among the overjoyed crew, however, there seemed to be a person stuck in a conundrum of politeness, captured in an unfortunate spot from where it was hard to make an exit - especially since one of the men standing the closest was quite grabby.

And you knew that unlucky bastard.

Technically, of course, because you’d never met in person before. You had the operatives’ faces and voices memorized, after all, and this one was hard to confuse with anyone else.

The photo in the files didn’t do his disheveled blonde mane justice, though.

And he was right there, almost empty glass in his hand, trying hard to focus on the conversation that was clearly boring him beyond comprehension.

Was it a conscious choice on your side? Or merely an instinct kicking in? You were about to ask yourself that many times later, but for now, you downed your drink and made your way to the noisy group.

“Neil, darling! Fancy meeting you here!” you gushed, squeezing yourself past the obnoxious-looking guy.

Neil gaped at you, perplexed.

“Hello,” he said with a cautious smile, a confused frown only deepened when you closed the gap between you to grant him a social kiss.

Perfectly hidden from the prying glances of his acquaintances, you went for your shot. “Do you need assistance?” you whispered as you brushed your cheek against his, hoping he would catch on fast enough.

Oh, he did.

“Jesus,” he breathed, and as you went for the other cheek, you saw how wide his eyes became for a second. “Get me out, please.”

“Right on.” You put on the most gracious smile, linked your elbow with Neil’s, and turned to the rest of the men. “Excuse us, gentlemen, the lady of the house needs this one in the kitchen, stat.”

Nothing too improbable, and you hadn’t seen Sarah for a while. The guys didn’t seem to mind, besides - no one sane would cross the hostess, even on a good day, and you were able to get out of their sight without too much of a bother.

You wanted to slip out of the hold as soon as the coast got clear, but Neil persistently kept you close as you marched towards the kitchen arm-in-arm.

The blue eyes swept through you up and down, as he was now the one to try to get the pieces together.

“How…?” he asked, and a sly smirk dangled in the corner of your lips.

“Habit.” You gestured vaguely, keeping your voice low and confidential. “I see an agent in distress, I come to help. Looked like you were about to drop dead from boredom out there.”

“Close call, yeah.”

“What was that conversation about?”

Neil rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation.

“Sports.”

“Oh no, glad I could get you out in time, then,” you snorted and met his gaze, now lit with playful sparks.

“Me too.” He smiled and opened the kitchen door. As soon as you got inside, he stopped and put his hands on your arms, taking you in again. He dropped his head, scoffed, looked back at you, and squeezed your arms lightly, only then letting you go. “Sorry, I don’t mean to stare, but it’s so nice to finally put a face to the voice.”

“Ah, I already knew your face.” You grinned at his quirked eyebrow. “Might have seen your files, once or twice.”

“Blimey.” He beamed widely. “Shall we make it official?” he asked and reached out his hand. “Neil.”

You shook it and introduced yourself, earning a court nod in return.

There was no reason not to give him your name. It was a pleasantry, a custom, and you were both on neutral ground, after hours. Nothing inappropriate.

There was also that feeling you couldn’t quite describe. The apprehension you associated with newly met people was missing, instead, it felt like you’d actually known each other for years. Like his presence brought a certain comfort, even

But again, you were two drinks in, and about to fix yourself another one.

You looked around the neat, shabby chic kitchen, oddly empty of people - seeing as kitchens were usually one of the most favorite places to hang around at home parties. It was a rather pleasant breather to your overstimulated brain, even if you could still hear the music blasting in the adjacent room. Doubly so, now that you spotted a makeshift cocktail station prepared on the kitchen island.

“How about a refill?” You asked, pointing at the glass in Neil’s hand, as you walked towards the counter. “Vodka tonic?”

He squinted suspiciously. “Don’t tell me that my drink of choice was also included in the files.”

“Imagine that.” Laughing, you shook your head. “No, I saw you drinking something transparent, and judging by the fine selection of ingredients here, and assuming it wasn’t water–”

“You guessed it, all right.” Neil sent you an amused grin and watched as you prepared drinks for you both. “You like more color to your beverages, I see.”

“Can’t go wrong with something fruity,” you said, handing him his glass and topping a splash of vodka in yours with orange juice. “At least as long as it’s on the sour side, that is. Cheers!”

The glasses clinked and you perched on the bar stools together. “So how did you end up here?”

“I’ve known Steve since uni. He always invites me, but I’m rarely in town. I didn't have any plans, and it seemed better than staying in another sad hotel room.” Neil paused and took a sip of his drink, partially to hide a hint of a bitter grimace. But as he rolled his shoulders and glanced back at you, a light smile played on his lips again. “Thought I might give it a shot. You?”

“I know Steve’s other half. And same - she keeps inviting me, and apparently, there's a finite amount of excuses you can use before someone takes offense.” You made a face and scoffed softly into your glass.

Humorous sparks lit up his eyes. “Not a big fan of socializing?”

“Depends on the crowd,” you admitted, and he nodded without an ounce of judgment. This evening had proven your point to him, after all.

The song in the background changed. Neil perked in his seat, and when the realization dawned on you, your mouth fell open in astonishment.

“This is not happening.”

Neil raised his hands and choked out through laughter, “I had nothing to do with this, I swear.”

You chewed on your lip, trying to stifle a hysterical giggle, then squeezed your eyes shut. What are the chances…?

“Wanna dance?”

A warning siren blazing in your mind was loud enough to get through the music, and you stopped swaying your foot to the rhythm instantly.

“I don’t dance–” you began, but suddenly the kitchen doors flew open and the familiar buoyant group of men rolled into the kitchen, irreversibly tainting the peace of the space with their obnoxious noisiness. Neil’s face dropped at the sight, and you ground your teeth as you bit back the rest of the sentence. You took his hand and finished the rest of your drink in one swig. “Okay, come on.” Then you led him to the other room, and he held onto your hand until you found a little bit of space in the crowded dance floor area.

//Baby, close your eyes and listen to the music

Drifting through a summer breeze

It's a groovy night and I can show you how to use it

Come along with me and put your mind at ease//

Maybe that was the solution, you thought as you swallowed hard through rising nervousness. The music blasted through the speakers loud enough to tune out the internal litany of curses, and you let it wash over you.

And you let it go.

Luckily, Neil’s carefree vibe was so effortless to match, because he didn’t take himself too seriously on the dance floor as well. Soon enough, you both sang along to the lyrics, making silly faces while you danced off each other as if you played to the longest inner joke The Universe had granted you.

The utter joy that resonated between you. Expanding your chest, bringing the biggest smile to your face. Making everything easy. That was why one song turned into two, three, and then you stopped counting, so even when the choice of tunes took turn into trashy classics, you had so much unapologetic fun that you didn’t want it to stop.

None of you did.

Finally, DJ switched tempo, and you fell into each other’s arms, giggling uncontrollably while you tried to catch your breaths.

“So, Elvis,” you said, attempting to school your features enough to wipe the idiotic grin off your face.  

Neil took your hand in his, the other one placed on your waist. “Could be worse.”

“You think?” you snickered, then followed him instinctively as you gently swayed to the music together.

“Well, he has some of the most beautiful love songs in the world.”

When you searched his eyes, you found something sincere shining through the playfulness. It caught you off-guard and a new kind of warmth pooled inside you, one that didn’t have much to do with dancing the last half an hour away.

“Careful, or they’re gonna revoke your British passport.”

He scrunched his nose and shrugged dismissively.

“Well, you’d get me a new one, right?”

“Right.” And although you laughed - because how could you not, so close to that contagious smile of his - the familiar knot tightened in your stomach.

The word bounced around inside your head, making you painfully aware of the situation.

Right, right, right, right, right.

Only that it wasn’t.

Even if it felt very much so up to this moment.

Neil’s voice snapped your attention back to him. “It’s almost midnight,” he said. “That balcony should make for a nice spot if you want to watch fireworks.” With the way studied your expression, you were almost sure he noticed your sudden mood swing.

“Sure, let’s go.” You forced a little smile. “Let me just grab my coat.”

The air was crisp, sobering.

With the anticipation palpable all around you, it was hard not to think about what another year was about to bring. You weren’t one to let anxiety roam free, you couldn’t be efficient at your work if you were. Instead of worrying, it was better to act, but maybe it was the alcohol mixed with the heaviness you felt after that last bit of conversation, perhaps prompted even earlier by the boss visiting your office. All combined together rang in a deep sigh, almost forcefully pushed through your tightened chest.

Neil shot you a curious glance. “Feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders?”

“Don’t you, sometimes?” you asked, sending him one back. “With all the saving it requires?”

He looked at the city skyline, pondering over your question for a while.

“Everyone has a responsibility towards a slice of reality they live in.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “Ours just happens to be a little bigger.”

“A whole goddamn cake,” you snorted. “That inverted entropy really makes the flavor pop though, huh?”

He met your eyes, his own lit up with amusement, and hummed, “It sure does.”

Someone next to you started the countdown, and when it got to zero and the world around erupted in cheers and blasting lights, you found yourself in Neil’s arms, and it was all that mattered at that moment.

It was ‘good luck next year’ and so much more. It was ‘I see you, and you are not alone'. The tight embrace of ‘so good to be next to someone who gets it’. And warmth. Immense comfort. Safety. Two souls touching and recognizing each other in a mad world, sharing a gleam of peace among the people unaware of the stakes.

When you pulled back, you exchanged a soft smile and turned to watch the fireworks, arms pressed together as if to prolong the contact.

The rest of the party went by fast. You found a relatively quiet place, sat down with drinks, and talked about everything and nothing in particular, simply enjoying each other’s company. As much as you did your best to stay present and not let anything break the spell too soon, it was bound to happen at some point.

And it did, just as you stepped outside the building and were about to call it a night.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?” asked Neil as he walked you to an Uber. “Not now, obviously, but-”

The heart sank in your chest as you cut in, “Listen, I-” There was only one way to say this, even if it went against any reason after a night like that. And he wasn’t making it any easier, looking at you with brows knitted together in gentle concern. “Back in the kitchen, what I’ve been meaning to say was that I don’t dance...with my agents. I’m so sorry if I lead you on tonight.” You held his gaze with bated breath, scanning for any switch in the behavior.

“Not at all.” There wasn’t any. Instead, Neil gave you a reassuring smile, his eyes never losing light shining bright inside them. “Thanks for making this night fun. And for saving me.”

“Of course. It was nice to meet you, Agent,” you said and reached out your hand.

He drew a bottom lip between his teeth and chuckled. “You too, Operator. Have a good night.” As he shook your hand, his thumb stroked it ever so slightly. “Happy New Year.”

Alone in your own bed, you could still feel that soft brush against your skin. His light stubble on your cheek. The heat of his body. His scent, fresh and warm in its citrus and woody undertones. The arms wrapped around you.

Those memories could possibly haunt you, only deepening that hollow pit inside of you.

But for now, you didn’t care, because that night you were falling asleep with a smile on your face.

Somehow feeling less alone in the world.

---------

And that was enough.

(next chapter->)

taglist: @hollandorks ​ @neilsgirl91 @thecraziestcrayon

[actualnymph]

wait the Olivia royalty is confusing me. does that mean I have to unstan Hayley :/

I definitely have a lot less respect (she can sing but now I’m uninterested in anything else related to her) for her after this……not a very good look not a kind thing to do in my opinion. Personally, I do not see the reason why a royalty was suddenly given, as far as I know, it was only an issue after a mashup of one of Hayley's songs and one of Olivia's became popular…I would’ve preferred to have seen this go to court (as far as I am aware Olivia was extremely cooperative which is sad to me) I feel like Olivia would have won.

To put everything into context, it was reported that "Paramore's Hayley Williams and Joshua Farro will now receive a combined royalty share of 50% for "Good 4 U," a song that shot to No. 1 on the Hot 100 before sitting at No. 2 for a record-tying 11 weeks. Rodrigo and her collaborator Daniel Nigro would therefore split the remaining 50%. (For "Deja Vu," Billboard estimated that Swift, Antonoff, and Clark would receive a combined share of 50%, with Rodrigo and Nigro again splitting the rest. Swift and Antonoff would also receive around a third of the royalties each for "1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back," with Rodrigo claiming the final third for writing the song by herself.)" (x) 50% of a royalty fee, at least in this specific instance, is extremely disgusting.

Even if they were owed royalties they shouldn’t have taken 50% especially since, in Taylor’s instance, Olivia stated she had gotten it approved (stating that "I came up with the '1 Step Forward' concept and I sort of wrote a verse and a chorus. I was in the car on a road trip, and when I got home, I decided to sing it over the chords of 'New Year's Day.' I think they're really beautiful chords. I was lucky enough to get that approved, and it's on the record.") which is very fishy to me…why approve it and then take 50% of the royalties esp since Olivia is a fan and a new artist (her first album!)? I also must point out that Taylor Swift and Hayley Williams are both famous and do not struggle with money issues, and Olivia Rodrigo is just now starting her music career.

To focus more on Hayley, I must say I find it extremely interesting that it was only after the mashup of the two songs was made she went forward with legal action against Olivia. I assume that Olivia’s singing style and "rock" sound made Hayley see similarities between them and therefore the two songs. After conducting some research I’ve found that "Variety reported on Wednesday (Sept. 1) that the parties for Rodrigo and Paramore were in contact before "Good 4 U" was released, and that the credit is "actually [for] an interpolation — which is essentially an element of a previously recorded song re-recorded and incorporated into a new song. Williams first hipped her social media followers to the credit change on Aug. 24 when she re-shared an Instagram Story from Paramore's publisher, Warner Chappell Music. (The company's post celebrated a music chart feat for "Good 4 U" and gave a "shoutout" to "writers Hayley Williams and Joshua Farro.")" (x) That sounds to me like there were no issues professionally or legally! So for royalties to be given now after all of that occurring and at such a high percentage…very slimy to me, I must say!

I think what is happening is extremely ridiculous, especially since Elvis Costello (I do not know anything about him or his work), who had a guitar riff of his sampled by Olivia, said via a tweet "This is fine by me. It's how rock and roll works. You take the broken pieces of another thrill and make a brand new toy. That's what I did."…I digress!

[class-wom]

Little Richard, a founding father of rock and roll whose fervent shrieks, flamboyant garb, and joyful, gender-bending persona embodied the spirit and sound of that new art form, died Saturday. He was 87. The musician’s son, Danny Penniman, confirmed the pioneer’s death to Rolling Stone, but said the cause of death was unknown.

Starting with “Tutti Frutti” in 1956, Little Richard cut a series of unstoppable hits – “Long Tall Sally” and “Rip It Up” that same year, “Lucille” in 1957, and “Good Golly Miss Molly” in 1958 – driven by his simple, pumping piano, gospel-influenced vocal exclamations and sexually charged (often gibberish) lyrics. “I heard Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis, and that was it,” Elton John told Rolling Stone in 1973. “I didn’t ever want to be anything else. I’m more of a Little Richard stylist than a Jerry Lee Lewis, I think. Jerry Lee is a very intricate piano player and very skillful, but Little Richard is more of a pounder.”

Although he never hit the top 10 again after 1958, Little Richard’s influence was massive. The Beatles recorded several of his songs, including “Long Tall Sally,” and Paul McCartney’s singing on those tracks – and the Beatles’ own “I’m Down” – paid tribute to Little Richard’s shredded-throat style. His songs became part of the rock and roll canon, covered over the decades by everyone from the Everly Brothers, the Kinks, and Creedence Clearwater Revival to Elvis Costello and the Scorpions. 

Little Richard’s stage persona – his pompadours, androgynous makeup and glass-bead shirts – also set the standard for rock and roll showmanship; Prince, to cite one obvious example, owed a sizable debt to the musician. “Prince is the Little Richard of his generation,” Richard told Joan Rivers in 1989 before looking at the camera and addressing Prince. “I was wearing purple before you was wearing it!”

Born Richard Wayne Penniman on December 5th, 1932, in Macon, Georgia, he was one of 12 children and grew up around uncles who were preachers. “I was born in the slums. My daddy sold whiskey, bootleg whiskey,” he told Rolling Stone in 1970. Although he sang in a nearby church, his father Bud wasn’t supportive of his son’s music and accused him of being gay, resulting in Penniman leaving home at 13 and moving in with a white family in Macon. But music stayed with him: One of his boyhood friends was Otis Redding, and Penniman heard R&B, blues and country while working at a concession stand at the Macon City Auditorium.

After performing at the Tick Tock Club in Macon and winning a local talent show, Penniman landed his first record deal, with RCA, in 1951. (He became “Little Richard” when he about 15 years old, when the R&B and blues worlds were filled with acts like Little Esther and Little Milton; he had also grown tired with people mispronouncing his last name as “Penny-man.”) He learned his distinctive piano style from Esquerita, a South Carolina singer and pianist who also wore his hair in a high black pompadour. 

For the next five years, Little Richard’s career advanced only fitfully; fairly tame, conventional singles he cut for RCA and other labels didn’t chart. “When I first came along, I never heard any rock & roll,” he told Rolling Stone in 1990. “When I started singing [rock & roll], I sang it a long time before I presented it to the public because I was afraid they wouldn’t like it. I never heard nobody do it, and I was scared.”

By 1956, he was washing dishes at the Greyhound bus station in Macon (a job he had first taken a few years earlier after his father was murdered and Little Richard had to support his family). By then, only one track he’d cut, “Little Richard’s Boogie,” hinted at the musical tornado to come. “I put that little thing in it,” he told Rolling Stone in 1970 of the way he tweaked with his gospel roots. “I always did have that thing, but I didn’t know what to do with the thing I had.”

During this low point, he sent a tape with a rough version of a bawdy novelty song called “Tutti Frutti” to Specialty Records in Chicago. He came up with the song’s famed chorus — “a wop bob alu bob a wop bam boom” — while bored washing dishes. (He also wrote “Long Tall Sally” and “Good Golly Miss Molly” while working that same job.)

By coincidence, label owner and producer Art Rupe was in search of a lead singer for some tracks he wanted to cut in New Orleans, and Penniman’s howling delivery fit the bill. In September 1955, the musician cut a lyrically cleaned-up version of “Tutti Frutti,” which became his first hit, peaking at 17 on the pop chart. “’Tutti Frutti really started the races being together,” he told Rolling Stone in 1990. “From the git-go, my music was accepted by whites.” 

Its followup, “Long Tall Sally,” hit Number Six, becoming his the highest-placing hit of his career. For just over a year, the musician released one relentless and arresting smash after another. From “Long Tall Sally” to “Slippin’ and Slidin,’” Little Richard’s hits – a glorious mix of boogie, gospel, and jump blues, produced by Robert “Bumps” Blackwell — sounded like he never stood still. With his trademark pompadour and makeup (which he once said he started wearing so that he would be less “threatening” while playing white clubs), he was instantly on the level of Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis and other early rock icons, complete with rabid fans and mobbed concerts. “That’s what the kids in America were excited about,” he told Rolling Stone in 1970. “They don’t want the falsehood — they want the truth.”

As with Presley, Lewis and other contemporaries, Penniman also was cast in early rock and roll movies like Don’t Knock the Rock (1956) and The Girl Can’t Help It (1957). In a sign of how segregated the music business and radio were at the time, though, Pat Boone’s milquetoast covers of “Tutti Frutti” and “Long Tall Sally,” both also released in 1956, charted as well if not higher than Richard’s own versions. (“Boone’s “Tutti Frutti” hit Number 12, surpassing Little Richard’s by nine slots.) Penniman later told Rolling Stone that he made sure to sing “Long Tall Sally” faster than “Tutti Frutti” so that Boone couldn’t copy him as much.

But then the hits stopped, by his own choice. After what he interpreted as signs – a plane engine that seemed to be on fire and a dream about the end of the world and his own damnation – Penniman gave up music in 1957 and began attending the Alabama Bible school Oakwood College, where he was eventually ordained a minister. When he finally cut another album, in 1959, the result was a gospel set called God Is Real.

His gospel music career floundering, Little Richard returned to secular rock in 1964. Although none of the albums and singles he cut over the next decade for a variety of labels sold well, he was welcomed back by a new generation of rockers like the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan (who used to play Little Richard songs on the piano when he was a kid). When Little Richard played the Star-Club in Hamburg in 1964, the opening act was none other than the Beatles. “We used to stand backstage at Hamburg’s Star-Club and watch Little Richard play,” John Lennon said later. “He used to read from the Bible backstage and just to hear him talk we’d sit around and listen. I still love him and he’s one of the greatest.”

By the 1970s, Little Richard was making a respectable living on the rock oldies circuit, immortalized in a searing, sweaty performance in the 1973 documentary Let the Good Times Roll. During this time, he also became addicted to marijuana and cocaine while, at the same time, returning to his gospel roots.

Little Richard also dismantled sexual stereotypes in rock & roll, even if he confused many of his fans along the way. During his teen years and into his early rock stardom, his stereotypical flamboyant personality made some speculate about his sexuality, even if he never publicly announced he was out. But that flamboyance didn’t derail his career. In a 1984 biography, The Life and Times of Little Richard, written with his cooperation, he denounced homosexuality as “contagious … It’s not something you’re born with.” (Eleven years later, he said in an interview with Penthouse that he had been “gay all my life.”) Later in life, he described himself as “omnisexual,” attracted to both men and women. But during an interview with the Christian-tied Three Angels Broadcasting Group in 2017, he suddenly denounced gay and trans lifestyles: “God, Jesus, He made men, men, he made women, women, you know? And you’ve got to live the way God wants you to live. So much unnatural affection. So much of people just doing everything and don’t think about God.”

Yet none of that craziness damaged his mystique or legend. In the 1980s, he appeared in movies like Down and Out in Beverly Hills and in TV shows like Full House and Miami Vice. In 1986, he was one of the 10 original inductees into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and in 1993, he was awarded a Lifetime Achievement Award at the Grammys. His last known recording was in 2010, when he cut a song for a tribute album to gospel singer Dottie Rambo.

In the years before his death, Little Richard, who was by then based in Los Angeles, still performed periodically. Onstage, though, the physicality of old was gone: Thanks to hip replacement surgery in 2009, he could only perform sitting down at his piano. But his rock and roll spirit never left him. “I’m sorry I can’t do it like it’s supposed to be done,” he told one audience in 2012. After the audience screamed back in encouragement, he said – with a very Little Richard squeal — “Oh, you gonna make me scream like a white girl!”

[spiderfan22]

COCKSUCKER BLUES by DJS

As promised, here is the play in its entirety. Inspired by the Robert Frank documentary of the same name.

I own nothing.

 1.

Backstage 1972. Someone tunes a guitar. There is a table with food that a couple groupies hang around.

Charlie has his drumsticks.

CHARLIE            There’s a thing I do. Like to do. For when I’m a bit stressed. Calms me down. A method you might call it.

                             What you do is you clench your fists – both your fists – and hold ‘em out in front of you. Like this.

                             If you’d like to try it too, by all means. But both fists out in front of you. You can squeeze as much or as little as you like. Whatever you’re comfortable.

                             Now imagine in one hand you’ve got a flower. Can be any kind you want. I always picture a rose – a white rose specifically. Don’t know why, that’s just what pops into my mind.

                             Now in the other hand imagine there’s a candle. Just your normal candle, lit. And what you’re gonna do is is you’re gonna breathe in the flower. – Breathe in the smell of the flower, a nice deep breath, a nice long inhale. Like so.

He demonstrates.

                             Then you just breathe, breathe out. And blow out the candle. You breathe out blowing out the candle, your imaginary, in the process. Nice long breath out.

                             It’s a breathing exercise. For your heart. To get you back in the right rhythm.

Pause.

                             Girl taught me that. Don’t remember her name.

 2.

Mick is being interviewed by an American Reporter.

REPORTER   Do you have any children?

MICK No. Not as yet.

REPORTER   Does that mean you want children?

MICK What makes you say that?

Chuckles to himself.

           I don’t don’t want children. Just haven’t met the right girl have I?

REPORTER   Imagine you have your pick.

MICK Can.

REPORTER   Are you just not ready to settle down?

MICK You could say that.

REPORTER   Having too much fun?

MICK You could say that too.

REPORTER         How has the tour been so far? Are you finding America much changed since you were last here?

MICK                   No, it’s great. As always. We love the states.

REPORTER         Do you have a favorite region?

MICK                   Region?

REPORTER         A certain area of the country –

MICK                   Down south, yeah.

REPORTER         And what is it about the south?

MICK                   Well that’s where your music comes from, all your best stuff doesn’t it?

REPORTER         You’re talking about the blues.

MICK                   Blues, rock n’ roll.

REPORTER         What about Elvis Presley?

MICK                   What about him?

REPORTER         Well isn’t it sad how he’s deteriorated over the last few years?

MICK                   Has he? I didn’t notice.

REPORTER         Are you still a fan of his?  

MICK                   Course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? I mean just because a guy might have lost a step or two, what is that, why would that change anything?

REPORTER         But would you say he’s been an influence on you? On your songwriting?

MICK                   Sure. Everything I’ve ever heard.

REPORTER         You don’t find that to be a generalizing statement?

MICK                   What

REPORTER         That you were influenced by all music?

MICK                   No.

                             Not if it’s true.

REPORTER         So you like all music.

MICK                   I didn’t say that. Did I say that?

REPORTER         No but you implied –

MICK                   No, you implied. You took it the wrong way. You guys are always taking – people are always using what we said against us. And let me tell you it’s frustrating.

REPORTER         How many more dates on this leg of the tour?

MICK                   Leg? I don’t know. Did someone ask you if you want something to drink?

REPORTER         I’m good, thank you.

MICK                   I don’t drink coffee. Americans love it for some reason.

REPORTER         I suppose they do.

MICK                   I suppose they do.

REPORTER         Getting back to your new album Exile on Main Street –

MICK                   Yeah, why don’t we.

 3.

Hotel swimming pool. The floor opens up and the groupies take off their clothes and dive in.

DIRECTOR    Can we do an underwater shot? Do we have the equipment for that?

CAMERA       We can. We can order it. We can get it in.

DIRECTOR    About how long are we talking for something like that?

CAMERA       I don’t know, end of the week?

DIRECTOR    What about – can we rig something in the meantime?

CAMERA             You’d risk damaging the camera and exposing the film. It’s a specially built plexiglass case we’re talking about –

DIRECTOR          No I understand that, I understand that. I’m just inquiring if we can do it ourselves.

CAMERA             Can I be honest, what’s the rush?

Director doesn’t answer.

DIRECTOR    What about 8mm?

CAMERA       Well yeah, but it’s the same problem.

DIRECTOR          But I’m saying what’s an 8mm camera cost? If it doesn’t work, if the film gets ruined then we don’t really lose anything. I just really wanna get this shot.

CAMERA             And it can’t wait?

DIRECTOR          Do you ever – do you ever get inspired? Dream? Or is that – is everything technical to you? Yes and no? Binary?

CAMERA             You’re being dramatic.

DIRECTOR          No I’m not, I’m just illustrating a point.

CAMERA             And your point -

DIRECTOR          That I’m an artist and you’re clearly not. You’re a technician.

CAMERA             I never claimed I was.

DIRECTOR          Yes but you’re supposed to help me, your job function is to facilitate in my vision. To make it happen. Your job is to say Yes.

CAMERA             My job is about reality. Capturing reality. And there are certain limitations.

DIRECTOR          You will rig me something, you will go back to the truck and you will use whatever materials, you will build me a box that can house a camera so it survives underwater, so it’s ready to go tonight. We get this shot tonight.

They stare at each other for a long time.

CAMERA             I’m gonna need an hour.

DIRECTOR          I’ll find some way to amuse myself. Go.

Cameraman exits.

 4.

The boys arrive. They party by the pool. Someone falls in and has to be rescued. Documentary cameras film it all.

 5.

Mick in a spotlight playing bluesy harmonica solo interspersed with the following lyrics:

MICK Girl wanna know where it is

           She wanna know what it is

           Reach down and

           Reach down and find you something girl

           Find you something girl

           Find find

           Reach down and find it

           Tell me what you find

If you find if you find

If you feel something girl

Tell me if you feel something girl

Because I wanna know

I wanna know

She wanna know

If you feel something girl

If you wanna feel something girl

Hard

Hard

Hard

Hard

 6.

Backstage. Keith on the periphery of some drug activity.

Dialogue overlaps:

Come on in. Come on. Plenty for everybody. You want another? What did you think it would feel like?

Nothing, just different.

Like I was them.

This is your first time? Do you want another?

What’s the primary impulse?

You want another? Have another.

You can’t do too much.

Plenty for everybody.

This was your first time?

Virgin.

Virgin.

Look she liked it. The way you don’t move.

Yeah.

How do you like it? How did you like it?

Different, it was different.

Different to how, how you imagined?

It would be yeah.

Some more?

No. No I’m think, I think I’m good for now.

Don’t pressure her, man.

I’m not I’m just explaining.

If she wants to she wants to.

I’m not. But she’s gonna want some later that’s all I’m saying. So she might as well do it now.

What do I owe you?

The nose knows.

The nose knows, man.

Laughter. This phrase “The nose knows” gets repeated like a mantra or inside joke and cracks everyone up.

Keith comes over and they set up a big line for him. He snorts it. Reels.

           There he is. There he goes.

Cut to black. An amplified voice says:

           WHAT IS THE PRIMARY IMPULSE?

 7. Hotel room.

BEARD          If you had a million dollars you still couldn’t buy enough coke.

GIRL 1           You think?

BEARD          Not to get addicted.

GIRL 1           You can’t get hooked on it?

BEARD          No, I’m saying: you’d have to have more of it than you could even do.

GIRL 1           You wouldn’t have enough money.

BEARD          Precisely.

GIRL 1           To do so much –

BEARD          You’d have to have piles of it, mountains.

GIRL 1           That’s a lot of coke.

BEARD          Which is why I never worry.

GIRL 1           You do a lot. I’ve seen you.

BEARD          I don’t do a lot, I do enough. The expense is only money.

GIRL 1           Yeah but where’s the money come from?

BEARD                See? That’s why it’s good to be on the supply end of things. Problem takes care of itself.

GIRL 1                 Do you think I could get a ride to Phoenix? Are you going on with the tour?

BEARD                Remains to be seen. I’d like to, but I have some prior commitments.

GIRL 1                 Where do you live?

BEARD                Hollywood. West Hollywood.

GIRL 1                 I’m from Torrance.

                             Do you know any movie stars?

BEARD                If they like to party, yeah we’ve probably come in contact.

GIRL 1                 Who’s like the most famous person you’ve “come into contact with”?

BEARD                I don’t – John Wayne?

GIRL 1                 John Wayne does –

BEARD                Nah I just saw him at a movie premiere once. I used to work at the Grauman’s Chinese Theater, as an usher.

GIRL 1                 I never been there.

BEARD                Maybe I could take you sometime, see the footprints.

GIRL 1                 That’d be cool.

BEARD                Would you wanna go? Can I get your number? Do you still live at home?

Girl 1 nods. He gives her drugs. She snorts.

GIRL 1                 But I’m gonna move out soon.

BEARD                Get your own place.

GIRL 1                 I wanna be a actress.

 8. We’re back at the pool.

Mick Taylor pops out of the water. He is interviewed by the side of the pool.

INTERVIEW       Since coming on, have you noticed a change in the band? Has the group dynamic itself changed? How have things shifted? Are you able to assert some kind of authority or style on the band? Is this change for the better or the worse you think? What’s your relationship like with Keith? Is there a healthy competition there? Do you think you ever might supplant him as a creative force? How deep does the rivalry go, and is that healthy? Have you had much input into the songwriting process? Would you like more? Are you content? To what level are you content? Or is discontent a good thing for an artist? How do you find the road? Is it hard being away from your wife and daughter for so long? Can we address the temptations inherent in such a lifestyle? Do you find yourself easily succumbing?

MICK T                Do I find myself what?

INTERVIEW       Easily succumbing. Can we talk about the quote-unquote groupie situation? Do you partake? Can we talk about the drug situation? Do you partake? Or do you consider it as part of your role to be the sober level-headed one, the stabilizing influence in the group, a role model of sorts, as opposed to the more hedonistic exploits of Mick & Keith? Do you feel an obligation to refrain as it were, to help rehabilitate the band’s image? Do you consider yourself to be the quiet one, how George was the quiet one? The quiet brooding one? The mature one? Where do you go from here? Where does the group go from here? What’s left? When you’re playing the biggest venues in the world, selling them out night after night, well, eventually you have to come down don’t you? Eventually there must be a fall? Or price to pay for such success? How many years do you think the band has left? How many good years? Or is it running out of steam as we speak? Are you immune to all this fame? Is the money really that good? I heard you were all in debt, I heard the tax situation was rather grim. Or was that only the original members? Can you comment on this? Can you comment on that? Can you see through it? Can you be objective to the fact that nothing lasts forever? Have you set aside any money for retirement? Can rock stars like yourselves age gracefully or is it all for not in the end? Exactly how old are you?

Mick T doesn’t say anything. Instead he spits water in the interviewer’s face. Playfully.

 9. Outside stadium. A local TV news crew talks to fans waiting to get inside.

TV                         Can you rate your level of excitement to see the Rolling Stones tonight on a scale of 1 to 10?

Ad-lib excited responses, “we love the Stones” “I’ve seen them however many times”

                             Was anyone at Altamont?

More ad-lib responses, “it was crazy” “I was right there, I saw them kill that guy” etc.

FANATIC            There’s like no security. Anybody could get in and just do anything. That’s what they don’t think about.

TV                         Were you at Altamont?

FANATIC            No but I wish I had been.

HYPE MAN  cutting in          Hey man! Hey! Hey, the guy you should be talking to is my friend over here boy!

TV                         Your friend? Who –?

HYPE MAN         He’s selling tickets man, he’ll hook you up. Front row, whatever you want. Ask him.

TV                         Is that right? Are you a scalper?

SCALPER            No

HYPE MAN         Oh he’s lying! We been out here all afternoon, made about two thousand so far. Tell him, man.

He doesn’t want to get in trouble with the police.

TV                         And how are you connected with –?

HYPE MAN         See what I do is, my job I go around the parking lot, round the crowd and see who needs what. Then I direct them to my man here for the exchange.

TV                         Uh-huh. Two thousand dollars. That must be quite the mark-up.

SCALPER            I really don’t want to be on TV.

 10. Hotel suite. Bianca Jagger is being fitted for a dress.

Mick stands around with his bathrobe open giving everyone a good view of his cock.

There is a strange pause before the scene begins like they are waiting for the director to call “Action”.

BIANCA        So where were we? Where’d we leave off?

MICK Something about a book I think?

BIANCA        Like there wasn’t anything more relevant to talk about.

MICK                  What do you want eh? This is supposed to be the domestic – the happy newlyweds and all that.

Bianca side-eyes the audience.

BIANCA              Years later in an interview someone will ask me when did I know my marriage was over. To which I’ll respond, tartly: “On my wedding day, love.”

           Isn’t that so terribly witty?

DRESSER      Hold still please, Miss Jagger.

She looks at the dresser. Seems to regard him.

BIANCA              Fag.

DRESSER            Excuse me?

BIANCA              No I’m just confirming. You’re a fag, right? You sleep with men?

DRESSER     Oh, well, some men, dearie. I have to admit to being a bit choosy.

BIANCA              What about my husband? Forget he’s a rock star, forget he’s famous, and rich. Do you fancy him? I mean in the abstract.

Mick tries to hide his interest in the answer to this question.

DRESSER            Well, I don’t know. He’d do in a pinch I guess. But there’s not much to him is there? All skin and bones. I really prefer a more traditionally masculine, you know the macho type. And he’s sort of flouncy isn’t he?

                             I can see his cock.

BIANCA              Because he wants you to. Because he’s proud of it.

DRESSER            Circumcised.

BIANCA              Yes. He’s the first man I was ever with who had that done to him.

DRESSER            Well surely it wasn’t his choice, he didn’t have a say in the matter.

BIANCA              Are they not reversible?

DRESSER    stifling a laugh   Came as a shock did it?

BIANCA              Oh it came all right. Only too quick. Bit of a recurring problem there.

They laugh. They laugh at Mick, who ties his robe closed and sulks.

DRESSER            So you’re saying you married him for his money.

BIANCA              Yes, I’m afraid.

DRESSER            Well there are worse things, more pathetic.

BIANCA              There are? Like what?

DRESSER            Well, you could have married for love. Sheer love! What lunacy! And that would have been really tragic.

BIANCA              Yes I suppose it’s smart of me to not have made that mistake.

                             But what if one person marries for money and the other for love? What then?

DRESSER            Oh, you’re doomed regardless, dearie, we all are. Love is a long-since abandoned thing, at least in its pure form. We’ve stripped it back, mined it, you know? People just use it for a tool now. A blunt instrument to inflict pain on each other. Which let’s be honest can be a bit of fun, provided you’re not on the receiving end.

Bianca is suddenly sad. Mick has left the room.

                             Are you. Are those tears? Are you crying, dear? Don’t tell me I’ve upset you.

She shakes her head violently “no, no, no” and tries to pull away from him.

DRESSER      My god I have. Ohhh.

He holds her for comfort.

           Ohhh. I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

He doesn’t let her go.

           But it’s the truth.

 Images. We are shown short bursts of activity, like vignettes, just long enough to get the point across:

11. A naked woman walks down a hotel corridor, stumbling every couple steps.

12. Int. car. Some of the boys, Mick and Charlie, Bianca, along with a bodyguard.. Everyone is having a good time passing a joint back and forth. Another car passes on the highway. The rest of the band – Keith, Mick T and Bill Wyman shout from the windows.

13. Hotel bathroom. The same naked woman in front a mirror. Her chest and stomach are covered in a sticky white substance – which she proceeds to rub into her skin.

14. Close up of a tight pair of leather pants with a big bulge. Hand comes into frame and rubs the budge, making it harder.

15. Extreme close on the woman’s finger as she brings a dollop of the white sticky substance to her lips and licks it with her tongue.

LATE NIGHT VOICE          The icing on the cake, ladies and gentlemen!

Sound of canned audience laughter continues over:

16. Keith and Charlie dislodge a hotel TV from its stand and throw it off a balcony. We see this two times; once from the guys’ perspective, the second time from the parking lot below. Just as the TV is about to land on us, crushing us –

Cut to black.

 17. Pool hall.

In a stunning feat of theatrical showmanship, a pool (billiards) table rises from out of the water of the hotel swimming pool. The floor closes back around it. The band is here hanging out, drinking, smoking. Charlie takes on an old Black Man.

BLACK MAN            So you play the drums huh?

Charlie just smiles as he lines up a shot.

Heard you were pretty good. Keep a good beat. That’s the main thing. Nothing too showy. But reliable. The backbone.

Charlie nods. Makes the shot. Lines up another.

Like to play pool too huh? You do that back home? Thas England right? They got pool halls back there? Where’d you learn? Got a nice touch, real delicate. Only the pros know that. Now I’m thinking you might be sneaky, taking me for a ride. But I fell for it – so who am I to complain?

Charlie misses his next shot.

           My turn I guess.

Mick and Keith have cornered an Old Blues Man they know, trying to convince him to join them onstage tonight.

MICK One song.

BLUES MAN I don’t know. You young guys…I might not be able to keep up.

MICK Just come out. Any song you want, we mean it.

KEITH            Grew up listening to your stuff.

MICK There’ll be GIRL 1s.

BLUES MAN   big laugh       What do you want me to have a heart attack?

Mick and Keith double-over laughing.

 18. Backstage before a show. Impromptu jam session. Acoustic guitars. Charlie drums on a coffee table. This is the only time we will see the whole band play together.

 19. A moment of violence. Everyone runs away as: the floor suddenly opens up causing the pool table to crash into the water. The water isn’t deep enough for it to sink completely.

Silence. Then everyone pretends like nothing happened and goes back to what they were doing.

We watch the boys get ready for the show.

They dress.

They tell jokes.

They do drugs.

They drink.

They meet-and-greet VIPs, celebrities – Andy Warhol, Dick Cavett, Truman Capote.

Eventually it’s time to go out there, and we watch them do that too – one by one leaving the room.

The year is 1972.

We’re somewhere in America.

And these were The Rolling Stones.

 21. Camera films the marquee outside a venue. Pans down to the sidewalk where a long line of fans waits to get in.

Light shift/jump cut –

We find a girl on the street. 19 years old. She doesn’t look well.

CAMERA       50 dollars?

GIRL 2                 Sure. I’m a poor orphan. My parents hate my guts, so I have nothing else to live for except the group that’ll make me happy. I’m a very sad lonesome person…you know? It’s a terrible thing, they took my child away from me because I was on acid. What’s wrong with…what’s wrong with a mother that’s on acid and like, loves her child?? Then the state comes along and takes my kid away ‘cause…because I take acid. She was born on acid! It blows my mind, I don’t know what to say.

CAMERA       But the concert makes you happy?

GIRL 2                 Yeah. It’s the only thing I want to see. I’ll… man, I’ll go kill myself if I don’t get in there. Go jump off a bridge, I don’t care. My life’s already half-wrecked.

Lights slowly fade on Girl 2 as she turns and walks away.

The projector goes out. The film is over. Roll credits over “Mother’s Little Helper”.

End of play.

[a-taller-tale]

Play Another One

Summary: Grif might owe Donut another favor soon if he could get something else to make Simmons smile like that. Also on Ao3.

Notes: The song choice was obvious, but I found a banjo cover of it, and since this song is on 80% of grimmons playlists, it felt like a sign. Thanks for the prompt, @riathedreamer​!

*

It’s not like Grif asked Simmons to become a fucking cyborg.

Grif had been half dead at the time, and probably would have had a better life with the angels and shit, rather than being stuck in this hell that was Blood Gulch.

Or maybe he would have turned into a ghost like Church instead. Although he’d been more corporeal recently. That guy didn’t seem happy. It probably still sucked.

So yeah, he hadn’t asked for Simmons to do some kind of dick hero move where he volunteered for a cyborg operation he had previously talked back to Sarge about just to save Grif’s stupid life. Grif had nothing to do with it. And he still didn’t even fucking get it. Simmons actively hated him a lot of the time.

Though, sometimes he wasn’t the worst guy to talk to. A better choice than Donut or Lopez anyway.

It’s not like Simmons even complained about becoming “Simmons 2.0,” but it was hard to pretend everything was fine when the guy kept glitching and shooting himself in the foot, then pretending that was just a quirky little thing he did now. Not feeling things in his extremities, or random gears actually popping out on him was the new normal.

And Simmons kept finding “features” Sarge installed that he didn’t tell either of them about. Like auto-locking on the Blues (and Grif), or needing coolant refills every week and… And Grif did feel a little responsible, even though Simmons did it to himself.

It was fucking dumb.

“Here,” Grif said, thrusting out the banjo and purposely holding it upside down by the bridge so it looked like he didn’t know his way around an instrument.

“Uh—” Simmons looked up from his calligraphy, probably writing another cyborg report to Sarge, but lit up when he saw the instrument. Literally, the lights on the side of his face lit up when he had an extreme emotion now. It was fucking weird. “Is that a banjo?”

“Oh, is that what they’re called? I found it in a cave on patrol. Must’ve been left by whoever was stationed here before us.”

“You found it?” Simmons looked doubtfully at the proffered instrument in front of him. It was insulting. Where was the trust, Simmons?

He casually swung the banjo around again and Simmons actually stood up and grabbed it. “Stop that! You’re going to break it!”

Here was the part he had to be most casual for. “Banjo… Didn’t you say you played once? Or maybe it was the triangle,” Grif said.

“It was the banjo,” Simmons said, frowning. “But it’s been a while…” He looked down at his arm, and fuck, that was something Grif hadn’t thought about. If Simmons’ new arm couldn’t play then this whole scheme was useless.

“Well, we could always use it for a bonfire. I’ll get the marshmallows—”

“No!” Simmons shouted, reaching for it. “Uh, I mean, I’ll take it.”

“Well, I found it, so it’s technically mine, but I guess I could let you have it. If you play it for me.”

“Uh—”

“Good talk, buddy. Bonfire tonight.”

“Tonight?! You know I don’t work well under pressure-!”

Grif slammed the door to their room shut and left to find a snack.

…Okay, so he hadn’t really “found” the banjo anywhere. Donut manages to get all these crazy costumes and weird foods and wines and stuff from somewhere. He has contraband connections. Grif promised him a future unnamed favor he’d rather not think about for getting this thing here.

But it’s worth it. With Grif’s improved lung capacity, and fully healed after all the skin grafts, while Simmons is still having trouble adjusting to the whole cyborg thing, sometimes Grif feels like he got the better deal.

And the look Simmons gave him when he took the stupid thing… He lit up. And it wasn’t just his creepy new cyborg eye.

Later that night, they’ve had their barbecue and ate most of the bag of marshmallows between him and Donut and Simmons is still just plucking at the strings, a look of extreme concentration on his face.

“Jesus Simmons, you’ve been tuning it for over an hour.” Sarge and Donut had already gotten bored and gone to bed and Lopez hadn’t even been hanging out in the first place. Grif was the last one left, but it’s not like he had anything better to do.

“I don’t have a tuner and it’s got to sound right or I’m not playing,” Simmons said, so focused on the banjo he didn’t even notice Grif was smoking.

Grif tried to make a smoke ring, but it dissolved in the heat in the air before it looked cool. “I think you’re stalling and you don’t know how to play.”

“I know how to play!” Simmons’ voice cracked. “I’m just trying to calibrate.”

“Whatever.”

Simmons took a deep breath and strummed, and it sounded a lot different than the tuning. Grif was suddenly paying more attention and put out his cigarette.

He played the opening a few more times than he should have, but after faltering a little, Simmons opened his mouth and started singing. “Wise men saaay… only fools rush iiin.”

His playing started simply, and he kept looking up to check that his audience of one didn’t look bored, which was a lot to ask of Grif, but he wasn’t. It was… cool to see him play.

With a small smile, Simmons started adding flourishes and his voice got louder and richer as he became more confident.

Grif stared. Simmons’ bangs were plastered to his forehead from the heat of the fire, he’d need another haircut soon if he wanted to keep up his neat appearance.

“But I can’t help falling in love with you…”

It took Simmons meeting Grif’s eyes for him to realize the song had ended.

“Interesting song choice,” Grif said, feeling…something.

“Mom was an Elvis fan. It was the first song I learned.” Simmons went back to plucking, studying Grif for a reaction, some approval. Mostly he looked pleased on his own, so the banjo scheme had worked. It would be so easy to crush that look, and sometimes Grif enjoyed bullying Simmons a little.

But tonight… tonight he wanted more music.

Grif cracked open a beer. “You know your arm works now. Play another one.”

Simmons smiled at him.

Fuck. Grif might owe Donut another favor soon if he could get something else to make Simmons smile like that.

“Okay,” Simmons said, plucking away again for a minute, before going into another song.

[theyellowcurtains]

Evak fic reclist

I am working on this list, it was started on the 3rd of July and I’ve read through a lot of the fics on ao3 to get this. It’s not in any particular order, except for maybe what I read it in. I am including the titles and author given descriptions. Thank you to anyone who has written these amazing works. 

when your heart is bleeding, i’m coming to get you - cosetties

Isak doesn't exactly expect his hookup from last week to be the love advice columnist at the school newspaper he's working at. He also doesn't expect to fall even harder for him than he already has, which is a shame, really, since Even's crushing on someone else.

we’re two little people in this big ‘ol world - cosetties

All Isak wants is a nice, romantic weekend alone with his very attractive boyfriend. Too bad his friends have a different idea.

("Then, Even will do something gross, like spill cheese on Isak’s favorite gray hoodie, or treat all of Isak’s best pens like goddamn chew toys, and scratch that. Isak’s the luckiest guy in all the worlds, all the universes.")

you’re the shit and i’m knee deep in it - cosetties

After Even has already rejected him once, after Isak is aware of Even's reputation for meaningless one-night stands, the last thing Isak should be doing is sleeping with the guy. But it keeps happening, and there's no way Isak is getting out of this with his heart intact.

with love, from anonymous - cosetties, iriswests 

Isak just wants to get his coffee in peace, Even has a crush, and there's a secret admirer on the loose.

open the pod bay doors -  iriswests

Even's trying to write a script for his class, Isak happens to catch a glimpse of the shit show, and they fall in love over a story of parallel universes.

True or False - iriswests

Seven moments between Isak and Even (+1 with Sonja), ranging from the ages of four and six to the ages of seventeen and nineteen, respectively.

Sideways and Slantways - iriswests

Isak gets stuck in an elevator with the one person he's vowed never to speak to again. This eventually prompts a conversation long overdue, but not without the memories flooding his brain like a broken dam first.

take me to the stars - iriswests

Isak thinks Even is pretentious and impractical. Even thinks Isak is arrogant and uptight. They’re not each other’s biggest fans, even if they do happen to have spectacular sex on a very, very drunken night. And Isak doesn’t mean to do it again, but he does, anyway, so now they’re establishing ground rules and deciding that maybe they can keep doing this, no strings attached, no commitments, no feelings, and, most importantly, no need to stop disliking each other.

And then it’s not quite that simple anymore.

Our Steady True North - verlore_poplap 

(DivorcedParent!Evak)

Five times Isak and Even were amicable; plus one time they just weren't. (Plus an epilogue, I guess) 

717 Miles - MermaidsandMermen (SophiaSoames) 

The calculated flying distance from Oslo to London is equal to 717 miles which is equal to 1153 km. If you want to go by car, the driving distance between Oslo and London is 1732.79 km. If you ride your car with an average speed of 112 kilometres/hour (70 miles/h), travel time will be 15 hours 28 minutes.

Even Bech Naesheim should not be here. Well it was not his plan to be here. Not at all. Even Bech Naesheim, age 19, is supposed to be on a beach in Bali. He is supposed to be on the first stop on his Asian backpacking trip of a lifetime. THAT was the plan. That is where he is supposed to be. Not here. Alone in a house in fucking London. Being paid to look after some troubled 17-year-old.

Isak Valtersen has 3 weeks left of school. He has to survive 3 more weeks. Make it through 21 more days of hell. Then he is going to hide out in his room for the rest of the summer until he can figure out how to get his life back on track. Find a school far far away where he can start over. Not make mistakes. He doesn't need a fucking babysitter. He just doesn't. His life is fucked up enough as it is.

Cut Us Out In Little Stars - allyasavedtheday

Even Bech Næsheim.

The boy making Isak’s heart beat double-time in his chest is Even Bech Næsheim.

He can’t believe he didn’t realise it earlier. Even doesn’t have any social media and any pictures of him in the press are usually grainy or leave his appearance partly concealed through sunglasses or a hat but still.

A sick part of his brain almost wants to laugh because of course. It’s not enough for Isak to like boys when he shouldn’t, no, he has to go and like that boy.

The one boy his father would condemn him for being with without question.

*

An Isak and Even, Romeo and Juliet au

Things Look Different In The Morning - allyasavedtheday

“So,” he says, drawing the word out. “I told Even he could stay here.”

Isak blinks, convinced he’s misheard.

“Eskild,” he says flatly. “We don’t have a spare room.”

Eskild straightens his back, expression turning sheepish. “That’s the other part…I was thinking he could stay in your room?”

*

In which Even needs a place to stay, kollektivet gains a new roommate, and Isak just really wants to sleep

The Moments in Between - allyasavedtheday

It could be minutes or hours later when they finally let go of each other, though they don’t move very far.

Isak slips his hand into Even’s and presses their foreheads together once again. “Come home with me,” he whispers, a quiet request lost to the space between their mouths.

He’s close enough to hear Even swallow before his fingers tighten in Isak’s hold and he murmurs an, “Okay.”

*

A look at the moments between O Helga Natt and Passe på meg.

Half Blade and Half Silk - smokeshop

Isak's friends introduce him to an art student at a college party. He won't stop calling Isak baby and Isak's bad at pretending to hate it.

College AU where Isak's past is a little more colorful but Even still won't leave him alone.

The Notion of Falling -  smokeshop

Isak hates Even and Even hates Isak and Sana is the only one who knows why

i could probably just curl up in you. - milominderbinder

Isak is away at a cabin with the guys when he gets a text from Even.

hey, babe, did you take my favourite hoodie?

He is, of course, outraged that Even would accuse him of such treachery. The fact that Isak is wearing the hoodie at that very moment has nothing to do with it.

How In My Silence I Adored You - dahlstrom

In a parallel universe, the rest of the boy squad actually shows up at the first kosegruppa meeting and Isak stays for the love games. Thus, his first interaction with Even is quite different (no paper towels were harmed in this scenario). Also heavily hints at Vilde/Eva.

I’ll Be Coming Home, Wait For Me - dahlstrom

(Trust me this fic is worth it, it’s 100% worth reading it’s lovely)

The diner AU. Even and Yousef open a 1950s American-style restaurant together - Even is the creative genius in the kitchen, Yousef keeps the trains running on time, and Isak, Chris B, and Magnus are all along for the ride. Falling in love over food while Elvis serenades from the jukebox. Welcome to the Throwback Diner.

---

The next couple of minutes are a complete blur of Yousef wishing Isak luck under his breath, then loudly saying goodbye to Even and hurrying out the door, and Even leading Isak to one of the only booths not covered with elements of the remodel, the two of them settling into their seats, Even asking him again if he’d like anything, and Isak, partly because he wants to delay things and partly because his throat now feels like fucking sandpaper, asking for some water. It’s not until he’s completely alone for a moment that he’s able to have a quick, stern talk with himself about calming down and just getting through this. If he can keep his cool for just a few minutes, do his best to ignore Even’s jawline and incredible eyes and, yeah, pretty much everything else about him, he might just come out of this with a job.

love and condoms - evenbakkas

Isak was about turn on his heels and say “Fuck it” and go home, when a tall, slender-looking boy approached him from down the aisle. Shit.

“Finding everything okay?” he asked once he reached Isak, his face entirely consumed by his smile. Judging from his choice of clothing, the boy definitely worked here. And, by the black letters scribbled on his name tag, the boy’s name was Even. Great.

.

Or: Isak owes Eskild a favor and Eskild sends him out to buy condoms where he runs into a tall boy who is a little too eager to help him.

My Heart is Strong - photographer_of_thoughts

(This fic actually does the most adorable thing with quoting moulin rouge and makes my heart swell with happiness, I adore that movie so very much.)

His bipolar disorder made him want everything to be a great tragedy, a Baz Luhrmann film; because how else did things have meaning? His brain told him that time and time again. He’d lost track of how many people he’d let go because he wanted to “lose them forever” and subsequently keep them forever; tucked away into the memory palace in his brain... But he didn’t want that anymore. As soon as he’d kissed Isak he knew he wanted to be better this time.

Or, Isak and Even meet in a doctor's office waiting room.

i didn't mean to kiss you (you didn't mean to fall in love) - tarjeiandhenrik

football/cheerleader au with not much football and cheerleading because i only know the basics

Membership Dues - Sabeley

Isak is pledging Even's fraternity. Even keeps having to be reminded that he's not allowed to date the pledges.

"It's a ten-week pledge period. How hard could it be?"

Famous last words.

Or, the childhood best friends AU no one asked me for.

poppin’ pills is all we know - thekardemomme

au in which Even comes into the bathroom instead of Emma

Sweet - Lisforlove

Isak is drunk and needy.

A Transference of Feeling - rumpelsnorcack

Isak hated that he was being forced to do this. He hated leaving Nissen because of his stupid parents’ stupid fights and stupid rules. Isak didn’t understand why he had to move just because they couldn’t get their shit together anymore; this felt like more punishment on top of having been left alone with his mother and all her weird moods and difficult behaviours.

Aka, the au where Isak transferred schools rather than Even.

in the place of you and me - DarkBeauty_890

“Can I tell you a secret?” Even murmurs, tracing mindless patterns- zig zags and hearts and stars and infinity signs- up and down Isak’s bare back. He circles freckles and counts them, adding them to his never ending tally of things to know about Isak.

Isak snuffles sleepily, “Mmhmm.”

“You have made me happier in less than a year, than I think I have been in my entire life.”

Eyes flicker open, hazy green; beautiful and open, “Ditto.”

whose world is this - withoutwords

It’s the same Isak who does his own laundry, and cooks his own dinner, and calls his dad for money because Eskild’s empty threats of kicking him out are starting to get on his nerves. The same walking, talking Isak.

But now he kisses boys.

I wanna hold you like you’re mine - giraffingallday

"I'm sorry? Who are you? And how would you know if Isak was really gay?"

"I’m Even, and how about because I'm his fucking boyfriend?"

Huh. This was news to Isak.

_

Isak is often nervous and just trying to get through his required semester of Theatre. Emma makes it a little harder until Even comes along and makes it too easy. He might fall in love somewhere along the way.

Tired of using Technology - skambition 

(This is part of a short series, I would recommend the whole thing)

Isak & Even texting

... about sex, love, relationships, school, family, daily stuff, and whatever else you text about :)

Golden Boy - alotofphandoms

“Guys, not every guy is gay and wants to bang me.”

“I beg to differ.” Isak jumps when a boy sits down next to him. “Hi, I’m Even.”

~~~

“A date?” Isak almost exclaims. Even chuckles again, shaking his head slightly.

“You’ve been on a date, right?” Even jokes but his face turns slightly more serious when Isak just looks at him dumbly and shakes his head. Even gives him a smile. “I just want to get to know you, golden boy.”

~~~

Or, Isak thinks his life is great until Even Bech Naesheim waltz in and starts taking him out on dates. (Mostly fluff and flirting but I live for angst so there's a little bit of that to keep it interesting)

it’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s write - mmxii

Even suddenly stops and just looks at him for a few seconds. Then he says it.

“You’re my best friend, you know. Always have been, always will be.”

a childhood best friends au..... because there can never be enough

Skamløs - Skamtrash

AU. Even is Isak's professor and they have a thing going on

[namjoonfmd]

WILL THE REAL SLIM SHADY PLEASE STAND UP?? nOw that i got your attention, hello there you cute frickin’ beans!! i’m anthony (or you can call me slim shady, juSt kidding), a twenty year old nerd, residing in the eastern timezone! anyways, i’m really excited to be here and to bring namjoon to life (i haven’t stopped thinking about him, yikes.) okay before i literally embarrass myself anymore in this because it’s about that time, i’m gonna move on to telling you about [pitbull voice] mr sunshine, aka oh namjoon (i just really love the name namjoon know that), simply known by one name, namjoon (wants to be beyonce so bad), main vocal of decipher! 

by the way, under the cut there will be mentions of a car accident, death of parents, and ptsd. if you are triggered by any of these subjects, please skip points 4, 5, 6, 7.

a full stats page can be found here and a plots page can be found here, if you’re interested!

namjoon was born on christmas day in 1992 to young parents, se-ah, a man who had just finished getting his business degree and started working an office job, and jangmi, who was still in school because she was studying medicine to become a pharmacist. two younglings who were so in love and now loving their brand new baby boy.

because jangmi fell pregnant before they were even engaged, namjoon was involved in their wedding, so there’s a bunch of pictures of him at about three years old in their wedding, it was stinking adorable. 

everything went good in the beginning, you know?? they were incredibly happy, excited to come home to their son everyday. but suddenly, when namjoon was about seven years old, his life took a turn for the worst. 

it was a normal, sunny day, and se-ah, jangmi, namjoon, and his cousin, sa-rang were on their way to the beach for the day. it was gonna be fun, especially since sa-rang was there, even though she was sixteen and capable to be by herself at home while her parents were away. but, she decided to send the day with them. they were on their way, but they never actually got there. 

this is something that’s still clear as day to namjoon, something that still haunts him. it was all so sudden and unexpected, they got into a really bad accident because of a reckless driver, whom smashed into the car at a high speed. the car hit jangmi’s side of the car, killing her on impact. namjoon was in the seat behind her, only hitting his head against something and knocking him out for a while. the car had flipped over. 

unfortunately, the only ones to survive were sa-rang and namjoon. se-ah died some time after jangmi did. sa-rang and namjoon came out with starches and bruises on their body, as well as a bump on namjoon’s head. sa-rang did the unthinkable as a fifteen year old, as she had gotten namjoon out of his seat, where he woke up in the middle of it going on, and she had gotten him out of the wrecked car. he still believes to this day, that he owes her his life for putting him first that day. 

of course, namjoon survived from ptsd after that and life before the accident was a bit of a blur due to the accident, the ptsd, and because he bumped his head a little bit. 

his grandparents raised him from when he was seven to twelve, they’re just about the most important people in his life. 

he started to get more into music to help cope from things, he found out that he was really good at it and it seemed to come easy to him. it was something that he took really seriously. 

when he was tweleve, he was in the mall with his guitar, and he was sat there, singing and strumming along to the guitar as people walked by. though, he noticed that a woman was there, recording him, and watching him sing. after, he was approached, and she told him that she was a rep for bc entertainment and that he was incredible and she really wanted him to audition. she gave him her card and off she went. 

he really thought it was a scam, but he just decided to give it a chance. so, he set up the audition and awaited the day. once it came, he went to the bc entertainment building to audition, even though in the back of his mind it still seemed like a scam. bc entertainment wanting him? that was crazy. 

though, once he was there to audition, people knew who he was, and that made him realize it wasn’t a scam at all. he went into the audition room with confidence, a happy nature, and he sang with his guitar, the popular american song, waterfalls by tlc (he has an obsession with 90s western pop music fyi) 

they truly loved his audition, the way he sang with an emotion and how well he did in front of them, they were impressed. the only thing was that they needed to work on his technique because they didn’t like the technique taught to him by his own personal vocal coach. 

he signed the contract there and got his grandmother to sign the papers, due to her being his legal guardian. but also, because she was the one to encourage him to chase his dreams. his family was a huge support system in this. she’s truly his biggest fan??? like she has everything decipher and frames a lot of things. 

trained for four years before debuting in decipher (btw shinee can have my soul) as the main vocal, which he’s still grateful for because he got to show off his vocals, like he’s just really proud of himself?? but not in the cocky kind of way, if you know what i mean?? being able to sing and debut really helped his self-confidence and self-worth. 

he’s truly just kind of a ball of sunshine?? like he’s very caring and he’s nice. everyone tends to think he’s adorable?? but also he’s that type of person that could literally go from adorable to sexy on stage and it leaves you shooken tbh. also he’s known to be pretty sensitive and stuff like that... like he’ll lit cry every time decipher gets a first win and when they win awards so. but he knows how to stand his ground if needed. 

also is really an embarrassing sunbae to everyone in bc entertainment?? like if he sees you at an event or something like for example if he saw lipstick he’d run over to lipstick and take a picture with them and then post it like “oh my god!!! i’m with lipstick!! i can’t believe it!!” and just be so embarrassing you’re gonna wanna pretend to not know him. so you know, bee, knight, lipstick, charm, and wish + the solo artists, ur gonna wanna watch out for him.  

it’s obvious that he likes the gym?? like he went from small and that gradually started gaining more muscle like ok slow down mister

he took college classes and is graduated, he has a degree in psychology, and a degree in creative writing. if this idol thing doesn’t go for longer (even though he knows that he’s truly going to be doing stuff like this for a long, long while most likely) he’d like to become a therapist to help kids (and adults) with mental issues.

has a lot of osts to his name, he played the lead male in hoot! by lipstick ( he was the guy spy who was played by choi si-won,) was in the musical  “in the heights” in 2015 and then again 2016-2017 as the main character, benny. he was also in the musical “all shook up” in 2016 as the main character, elvis. he was an mc for “singerella” and he plays the main character, lee shi-kyung, in the tv show, andante. ( yes this is the show kai is gonna be in because i’m uncreative don’t @ me ajknkjafk )

also another thing to note, he’s fluent in korean, english, and ksl. no one knew about him being fluent in ksl till he was seen at a fan signing interacting with a deaf fan through korean sign language, something that was highly praised by media and fans. 

anD that’s all for this really long intro im sorry?? i tried my best to summarize like.. 11 paragraphs i think i wrote for the bio kajkfnakaj

also here’s a rl pic of me about being here and being excited to rp w u all

[stevecoleridge-posts]

SPANISH LOCKDOWN …DAY14

Saturday night s all right for fighting.. on Facebook of course,

i was just casting my mind back to a Ninurta  Night , as there called their Saturdays Night in Uruk, capital of Sunny Sumeria, and  imagining what a great time they were probably having 5000 years ago , getting pissed on the local beer, because they invented that ,as well as the seven day week. Of course they did nt have Netflix, but they got to go out more..i don’t have Netflix either , yet , but have axs to lots of stuff including Music documentaries , which we are watching in order , chronological order that is..starting with The Birth of Country music .. and Mr Ralph Peers,from new York, who looked a little like Brian Epstein by the way , who set up a temporary recording studio above ��furniture shop, there you go agin , NEMs , well no, it was nt , but anyway I digress, and into this temporary Studio  walked The Carter Family..3 of them .. and Jimmie Rogers.. yes.. that Jimmie Rogers , the Singing brakeman..i mean ,Okay , i can hear you mumbling about Sam Phillips, and the Chess brothers etc.. but this was Bristol, Tennessee/Virginia..a place no-one who doesn’t live round there has heard of..its like discovering the Beatles and the Rolling Stones..or rather signing them..   After that we watched a newish doc about the King , E.V. Presley..and it was mad by some guys driving round America in his Rolls royce..great stuff   That led to the Fab Four , Eight days a Week.. which was about their touring years and the whole world has seen it except me… its absolutely.. the F word , second letter A..anyway this time 55 years ago they were filming Help. inSt Margarets..Twickenham..and taking photos for the infamous Butcher cover , in the Vale , Chelsea, where my first nursery school was located..ah well.. don’t want to get too carried away on Beatles Lore..or i ll bore you to death , because i don’t mind admitting i am well versed in that subject…   The Beatles represented the 60s in the same way Elvis represented the 50 s…and someone told a story about how the disgusting Colonel Parker, in inverted commas,used to put a cover over Elvis Cadillac so the girls could nt see him when he drove on to the Movie lot in hollywood… well once the Beatles arrived the Colonel still put the cover on , so Elvis could nt see there were no longer any girls..A sad figure..but  his mantle of  loneliness was later to be worn by Michael jackson and especially Prince..Do these Royal titles always end with a solitary death on the loo or in a Lift

From there we moved too the Seventies… and surely the quintessential Seventies hero is Bowie..well now it so alluringly sunny outside ill have to go and play guitar on the terrace .. and leave David for another time..

No i don’t want to see the News..

DAY 15..Sunday…

The clocks have gone on to sensible time..even in lockdown this is cheerful news.. I was wondering how long it will take for people with imaginary ailments to return to their plastic chairs in Hospital waiting rooms throughout the Western world.. these people presumably will be the ones most frightened of Covid 19..there s nothing imaginary about that..but if you have ME and you re lying on the sofa all day, and you feel depressed , and your bones are aching etc.. well how do feel different from everyone else..and as for food intolerance .. that should be interesting when the statistics come in about consumption in Supermarkets..i know there are allergies and allergies.. but the possibility of imminently drowning in ones own mucus does concentrate the mind wonderfully, and a lot of people will find themselves in the second category once shortages begin of certain previously essential items..suddenly one has to be tolerant of a whole raft of things one had previously considered unacceptable ..two weeks ago i could not have imagined four days without bread.. but its no big deal.. onions likewise..thats what happens when you shop with no list.. bit like going on stage without a playlist.. its a gamble … it can produce unexpected benefits in that you try stuff you had nt tried before.. but you often forget the best songs..

We watched the film about the Kursk, the Submarine which was on the seabed and owing to bureaucracy and politics the Crew were allowed to die..even though t5here was a foreign Ship with equipment nearby that could have saved them.. reminds me of something..are we the mariners or are we the mariners wives?

Does the Chinese government have a cure? are they just waiting for the US economy to completely collapse?..Will we ever know?

Day 16

Each day just goes so fast , i turn around , it s past..

One of my fave tracks from Revolver..anyway playing in E7 , as usual , in fact I’ve been stuck in E 7 since Lockdown started..Catfish , Smokestack lighting ,Good Morning Blues , Take Out Some Insurance..however now the time has come to expand ..and try Freight train..the classic finger picking song..so ,if i observe radio silence for a while you ll know why..

Saw the news…The government had adopted some economic measures which seemed very well thought out , in the sense they were are determined not to let the mistakes of the last crisis , where the poorest people got the rawest deal. I won’t go into details , its all online if you re interested..it was more a sensation than anything  logical , but it made me feel a bit less pessimistic for the first time in a few weeks,i found i was nt thinking about Death quite as much , even in the abstract. that may sound overdramatic , but i think everybody is thinking about it subconsciously a great deal more than they were, say, last Christmas..well actually in our particular situation , where we had been frequenting cancer wards and the like , maybe i should go back to 2018…but  the awarerness of death affects every facet of how you think about everything else..i don’t just mean concentrating the mind wonderfully..anyway its half past two, and tomorrow ill probably delete all this..The gist was that for some reason things don’t feel quite so bleak..

Day 17

Yesterday was a 3 own a scale of  ten as far as ding anything worthwhile was concerned. After watching a film i unreservedly recommend..The vanishing.. about  3 men who disappeared from a Scottish island where they were repairing th elighthouse , i watched Tolkien , the movie about one of my heroes , but not one of Auroras heroes apparently as she fell asleep during the first reel, so to speak, anyway she s not huge Tolkien fan , having been made to sit through the fellowship of the ring seven times..be that as it may , the sofa is not designed for sleeping comfortably so she had a severely cricked neck the next morning and stayed in bed, leaving Tina and i to our own devices..this meant i ate a packet of chocolate biscuits for brunch and did nt eat again till midnight , which goes to show how lucky I am not to be on my own.

  to entertain myself between bouts of fingerpicking i decided to9 look up on google what English people disliked the most.. while i did nt find the answer to this question i did get seriously sidetracked and found out the answers to several more pressing questions about Europe,and i m proud to say the british isles scored very highly

The Dirtriest City..Yay .. London The Ugliest people..The British and the irish  and the Germans ..okay , so we cant beat the Germans but at least we drew The Rudest people..That was easy..The French win every time, when i lived in  Paris  i prided myself on becoming Parisian, and adopting local customs , but one day , in a moment of absent mindedness , and for a subconscious second imagining myself in Spain , i said Good Morning to my next door neighbour, a short fellow with a mop of dark hair and glasses, who i passed on my way to the metro in Boulevard St . Germain… i am not a Physiognomist.. he replied…i made a not e of that , hoping i could use the phrase Je ne suit pas Phisionome, myself on some future occasion..but sadly , said opportunity has not arisen. Most boring City..Brussels .. for the third year running…Hasve nt these people been to Oslo? Most Friendly Country..wait for it… Scotland..most friendly capital .. Dublin Worst Cuisine..Malta , tied with Kosovo Best ..Italy Most Beautiful Women ..Norway ..and Bulgaria..i would have voted for Madrid..but you cant argue with Norway Most ignorant Country in Europe ..italy. Most Rapes..Sweden..well that was no surprise..however i won’t analyse those statistics or Ill be done for Isamolophobia Most ignorant country in the World ..Indonesia Most depressed ..World..China , India, Brazil,..what??..USA.. and Bangladesh Most mental Illness..Estonia,Belarus , Russia Most Obese Europe..Yes We won agin .. Britain

And so on .. there was more , i could nt stop , but i did check the criteria..and obviously ruled out anything from the Daily Mail or the Independent.. which are not really newspapers at , but sheets of opinions conforming to the prejudices of their readers.

When i got tired of this i got the Scythe out of the tree and  cut the grass for half an hour .. feeling like a peasant woman in Quiet Flows The Don..its quite restful when you get in rhythm. Aurora was still ill so i made her some chicken soup.. well , packet chicken soup with some noodles and chicken added.. anyway , she did nt eat it .. so i had it saved for my supper.. I did nt watch TV..i could nt be bothered to work out how turn it on to be honest , thats how lazy i felt, and i just sat by the fire and went through all the fingerpicking songs again.

Spanish lockdown..Day 18

Aurora s feeling a wee bit better, but cant eat anything , so cannot take Iboprufen, or whatever it is in English ..but says she could probably handle bread.. so..that means a trip to the heart of Fukushima, err..well ...on with the masks , gloves etc  and to the shop in El Llano.. small village near here , a lot more isolated than Carboneras..I was feeling fairly confident as i trundled along the track  , that the town hall had tarmacked before some election or other..anyway , rounding a corner there was a woman of un certain age in the road waving me down,.,.

What to do?…You re are not allowed passengers , plus she was not wearing gloves or a mask..

Should i observe the Law, or basic good manners? i d vaguely recognised her.. and had she she been a total stranger i would have passed on by , but , hell , she was Local, so i had to pick her up..

She did nt recognise me.. obviously , as i was wearing a cap , two masks with a scarf on top, and polo neck unrolled over the bottom half of my face , like a character in the Bash Street Kids..an way i had the window down , and was almost sticking my head out as i drove..

@ Chilly out @.. she observed…

i pretended not to understand this hint that i should close the window..

@ Do you think it s going to rain ? @

@ I  think probably not @

@All these people with masks @  she observed ,as a car squeezes by us, going in the opposite direction . I began to wonder if she knew there was  such a thing as Covid 19,and  saw the driver  studying us..I was hoping he  would nt recognise me either.. and was weighing up whether what i was doing would meet with his approval. i.e. helping a distressed local, or would be considered a breach of community sprit. On coming into the village we received more enigmatic looks..and i  felt uneasy as i got out in front of the shop and followed her to the door … pausing  to read the safety notices outside.and thus give her a head start . i won’t reproduce them ..wherever you are you ve probably seen the equivalent..anyway ,no sooner did i enter the shop than she was next to me selecting suit and veg..and ignoring safe distancing, which i agree was academic , as we d just been in much too close proximity,..thus forcing me to leave the fruit and go and study the options in frozen fish..while she was having a conversation wi the owner

  @ Do you think it will rain?@   @ Its chilly out @ etc..

As we went about our purchasing i saw more and more foodstuffs i would nt normally consider..and soon had over a weeks supply..which , considering how much we already had at home made me hope this lockdown was going to go on for  a while ..or otherwise id feel a fool .. no , i did nt really think that.. Much as i wanted to prolong my shopping experience there was queue forming outside , so felt obliged to go more quickly that i would have liked..especially as i hoped to delay long enough not to have to take the woman back to her house..vainly as it turned out as she was a quarter of a mile along the track when i was obliged to pick her up again..

We passed the garbage truck.in a lay-by. @ My nephew..@ she explained..I began to feel id made the right decision..as i doubted she d been more than a mile from her house in the past few months… nonetheless i observed full protocol on arriving home..even disinfecting the car having a shower and putting all my clothes in the machine.

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6 Famous People Whose Origin Stories Are Dark Secrets

Nobody expects celebrities to actually be exactly the way they portray themselves publicly. Bruce Willis doesn’t go around killing terrorists every day (that probably happens, like, every other weekend). When you’re famous, it’s understood that you’ll have to bullshit a little and cultivate an image that appeals to your audience. But some do less cultivating and more top-to-bottom renovations. It’s always shocking when famous people turn out to be the complete opposite of what they’re famous for. And that’s the case with …

6

Kid Rock Was Born Rich And Grew Up In A Huge-Ass Mansion

No “celebrity goes into politics” story will ever be weird again, but the announcement that Kid Rock might run for Senate still managed to turn a few heads. After all, his biggest claim to fame was supposedly spending a summer “trying different things … smoking funny things,” and based on his ability to rhyme “things” with “things,” he surely has no better than an eighth-grade education, right?

Rock wants us to think he’s some rough-and-tumble country boy, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. His childhood home in Macomb County, Michigan recently sold for nearly $1.3 million, which we’re reasonably sure would be enough to buy whole towns around there. It turns out that his dad owned two luxury car dealerships and made some not-insignificant amounts of money.

Romeo High School “Your little rec center shall make a great showroom for our Bentleys. Papa will be most pleased.”

Mr. and Mrs. Rock’s “four-bedroom, four-bath, neo-Georgian colonial house” is over 5,000 square feet, has an indoor Jacuzzi, amenities out the wazoo, and the property itself contains an apple orchard. Rock has tried to flaunt his down-home country style and use it to smear politicians as “out of touch.” That doesn’t have the same gravity now that we know his past.

Adam Serwer/Twitter That’s a sad burger for so many reasons.

5

Rapper Rick Ross Was A Prison Guard

Florida rapper Rick Ross is best known for his songs about nonstop hustling and pushing it to the limit (“it” being all of the drugs). Hell, he got his name from a drug kingpin. That’s why it was kind of a shocker when it came out that Ross was a corrections officer (read: prison guard) prior to getting into the rap game.

After the story broke about his previous life of literally the opposite of crime, Ross originally denied it, but somehow the media managed to get ahold of pay stubs that proved it. For about two years in the mid-’90s, he worked as a CO in Florida. Granted, that makes him more of a badass than being a CO in, say, Terre Haute, Indiana, but it didn’t help his street cred any.

Florida Department of Corrections, Maybach Music Group His earliest songs were about how much he hated that Urkel kid who kept visiting his house.

Even 50 Cent took a jab at Ross in a rap to point out how dumb it was for Rozay to keep acting like he was something he wasn’t. After all, if you’re only learning about smuggling drugs and weapons from someone else’s case file instead of doing it yourself, can you sincerely say your raps come from the heart?

Probably thanks to some magical PR whiz, Ross finally owned up to his past. Rather than dismiss his old job as some kind of phase, he managed to call it a “hustle” in its own right. (We’re beginning to think that absolutely anything can be a hustle as long as one declares it so.)

4

Ron Jeremy Was A Special Education Teacher

Lots of people watch porn — about 67 percent of you are only reading this while you wait for some to load. Even the “casual” viewer can probably name a fair number of lady porn stars, but for some reason, about the only male porn actor most people can identify is Ron Jeremy. He’s been the mustachioed face of videotaped boning for decades, but believe it or not, that wasn’t really his Plan A.

On an episode of Judge Pirro, Jeremy admitted that his background was in theater, and that he’d gone on to get a master’s degree in special education. As in working with disabled kids.

Jeremy is happy to talk about his educator past, and always considered his teaching degree his fallback option, or “ace in the hole” (that’s probably not the only thing he’s called that). He majored in theater in college, and much like theater majors of today, he went and tacked on an education degree “just in case.”

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What Movie News Should You Know RIGHT NOW (11/24/17)

One time, Jeremy and a friend (the school psychologist) picked up a couple of women and brought them back to what they claimed was their “hotel,” which was in truth the school for developmentally challenged kids where they worked. The building used to be a hotel, so they didn’t lie, precisely, but that’s the kind of thing you’d expect from the future star of Ebony Humpers 2. They also told the ladies that they were going to a convention for doctors, which was pure bullshit. In the morning, Jeremy and his friend brought the women up to the “hotel restaurant,” cleverly disguised as a goddamned school cafeteria. (The kids there were reportedly quite thrilled to meet them.)

3

The “Blue Collar” Comedy Tour Is Pretty Well-Educated

The Blue Collar Comedy Tour is a group of comedians who joined forces when they realized they were essentially using the same shtick, so why not put on a show together? And put on a show they did, because as far as Larry the Cable Guy and Jeff Foxworthy go, their entire careers are an act.

Most people are probably smart enough to assume that Larry the Cable Guy is not in fact named Larry the Cable Guy. What fewer people know is that he’s as far from “Southern” as it gets. He’s originally from Nebraska, which is definitely rural, but not “The hell kind of accent you got there, boy?” rural. The closest he got was that attending Baptist University in Decatur, Georgia (to major in drama and speech), but even so, that means he went to Georgia to go to college. That’s like your friend who studied abroad in Ireland coming back to America with a Cockney accent.

Seriously, watch him duck in and out of his “Southern” accent. It’s creepy:

Foxworthy, at least, is a native Georgian. His accent is real. But asking him to host Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader was an interesting choice, because he almost certainly is — dude went to Georgia Tech.

Granted, he didn’t graduate, but that’s in part because he landed a job working for his father at IBM in mainframe computer maintenance. Foxworthy, for his part, has tried to downplay it. There’s an obvious dichotomy between “college-educated computer guy” and “redneck” in our culture, but Jeff thinks there’s a bit more nuance than that:

“Here’s the problem that the media makes: They tend to think if you gave rednecks a billion dollars they wouldn’t be rednecks anymore. Look at Elvis — he put carpet on the ceiling. We wouldn’t wear Armani suits, we would just go to every NASCAR race.”

Someone should maybe tell him that Armani makes rather comfortable sweatpants.

2

Only One Of The Beach Boys Could Surf

Surfing isn’t merely a fun beach activity — it’s a lifestyle, brah. As soon as people discovered they could ride waves, it became a culture in itself. Nobody embodied that culture in the 1960s better than the Beach Boys, with their songs about the beach, fast cars, psychedelic farm animals, and then the beach again. They knew everything there was to know about taming the wild waves and impressing those California girls with their surf moves. Right? Right?

Well, no. Only one of them could surf.

Dennis Wilson, the drummer, was the only band member who knew the correct end of a surfboard. In 1961, he told fellow Beach Boys Brian Wilson and Mike Love, “Hey, surfing’s getting really big. You guys ought to write a song about it.” And then more songs about it …

… and then a couple of albums about it …

… and then an entire career about it. Had Dennis picked another random hobby, today they’d be known as the Model Train Building Boys. The band basically owes their success to Dennis’ suggestion. Although he also introduced them to his buddy Charles Manson, so not all of his ideas were so good.

Sadly, Dennis passed away in the very California ocean he loved after falling off a boat at age 39. His legacy lives on in every pastel-colored surf shack up and down the Pacific coast, and in the hearts of every Los Angeles tourist who tries surfing with a Groupon on a Saturday afternoon.

1

Neocon Poster Boy Milo Yiannopoulos Was (And Probably Still Is) A Total Dweeb

Milo Yiannopoulos is … no, not the main character from Disney’s Atlantis: The Lost Empire. He’s this guy:

You may know him as the firebrand Breitbart editor whose swagger lets him get away with spouting fascist rhetoric for a little too long, turning thousands of confused young men into his personal fan club and helping push them closer to all-out xenophobia. Yiannopoulos has been known to flirt with Nazi ideas and imagery, and — despite straight-up asking white supremacists for snazzy new Breitbart story angles — it’s all OK! He’s only “trolling.” When he talks about the evils of immigration or how trans people don’t deserve basic dignity, he’s not repeating the same backwards bullshit your grandpa used to complain about on the dinner table; he’s writing genius political satire, you see. Truly, a Voltaire for the age of Twitter. (Or Facebook, since Twitter banned his ass.)

But before all this, Yiannopoulos got his start as a rather inept and awkward tech writer for a bunch of websites, including Breitbart, and he looked like this:

That’s Yiannopoulos showing off his dorky, possibly Nazi ring, and presumably posing for his MySpace photo. Wonder what that profile would’ve entailed? Maybe something about how he likes to write poetry (read: plagiarize Tori Amos lyrics) for fun? Perhaps something further about how video game fans are losers and psychopaths, despite using that whole ridiculous #Gamergate saga to further his career? Months before “freedom of speech” became his battle cry and the excuse for his particular brand of outrageous dickishness, Yiannopoulos wrote a whole Breitbart column about how those goshdarn video games (which are enjoyed by “unemployed saddos living in their parents’ basements”) were probably to blame for the Elliot Rodger murders, and someone ought to do something about them.

How did he evolve his writing style from “angry letter writer at your local newspaper” to “edgiest shitlord on the internet”? He didn’t. His current work is largely ghost-written and researched by people he actively works to maintain uncredited and anonymous, because if he doesn’t get all the fame and attention, then what even is the point? Yiannopoulos is barely a person; he’s a crappy Halloween mask precariously placed on top of a heap of regressive ideas society had already flushed down the toilet. By the way, it was an unassuming teenage journalist from Canada who put the brakes on Yiannopoulos’ rising star by digging up his pro-pedophilia comments from 2016. (If it wasn’t for that, he’d probably have his own show on Fox News by now.) We’re sure it wasn’t the Universe’s intention to violently punish him in the most ironic way possible — it was just a prank, bro.

Isaac feels like a fraud pretty much every day. Follow him on Twitter.

Feel like Kid Rock has betrayed you? Don’t go cold turkey, instead try a KICK ROCKS shirt as a way to cope with the pain.

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For more, check out 13 Iconic Entertainers (Who Stole Their Whole Persona) and 5 Beloved Celebrities Who Were Nothing Like You Think.

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Check out Robert Evans’ A Brief History of Vice: How Bad Behavior Built Civilization, a celebration of the brave, drunken pioneers who built our civilization one seemingly bad decision at a time.

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I Croak To Lady Gaga’s Concert And I Literally Feel Reborn( This Way)

Hey, person! Kelli here. How’s everyone doing today? Good? Just fine? Great? Well, speedy interrogate for you: Did you know that if you go to a Lady Gaga concert, your entire life exactly fades away and you become good-for-nothing because Gaga is everything? Haha, yeah. That happened to me Monday night when I went to Lady Gaga’s World Tour. “Shook” is too simple-minded a word to describe the experience. “Spiritual” is closer, but the only word I can come up with that accurately describes how I seemed during and after that concert is “I am nothing; Gaga is my religion.”

I was invited to the show as part of Verizon’s new partnership with the World Tour, and they sure know how to treat a female( Gaga ). A group of us were taken to Citi Field in NYC on a fancy-ass bus, which is something we then filled up with other Verizon consumers/ clients at a large tent/ makeshift stage set up in the Citi Field parking lots. Basically , what happened all night was Verizon gave us the full VIP treatment as part of a publicity for their brand-new reinforces method: Verizon Up.

How the honors program labours is you download the My Verizon app, and as you spend money on acts like your monthly telephone statutes, you compile reward levels. One spot can get you flooring tushes to a Lady Gaga concert, but the tickets are first come, first provided, so the only catch is that you have to use the app consistently to get updates on the latest spates. But those deals can literally territory you free storey seats to Lady Gaga, so SET UP THEM ALERTS, BABY.

LITERALLY appreciating my goddess @ladygaga tonight TY #VZUp for drawing “ve been meaning to” my entirely senseless life I am not worthy #JoanneWorldTour pic.twitter.com/ hVKodBE3 2V

— Kelli Boyle (@ kellixboyle) August 28, 2017

There are a few each level of tickets through Verizon Up. When you accompanied Lady Gaga’s World Tour with the Dream ticket, you get flooring sits to the concert, access to their pre-show kiosk with food, refreshments, and a DJ, a backstage tour of the venue, and they are able to even acquire a meet and greet with Gaga herself. It’s a pretty cool thing.

But we’re here to talk about Gaga, so let’s f* cking do it. I’m one of the most important Beyonce stans in the universe( self-proclaimed ). I’ve exclusively been to a handful of concerts in my life, and majority of them ought to have hers. But I’ve too loved Lady Gaga ever since her “Bad Romance” daytimes and have always wanted to see her live. And people, Gaga is just as good as Beyonce in my thinker now. I know I am literally good-for-nothing and Gaga and Beyonce are the world so my opinion is that of the lowly boor I am, but that is the highest flattery I am capable of giving. There’s a rationale beings weren’t pissed when Beyonce stepped out of Coachella and Lady Gaga took her place. It’s because Lady Gaga is. An. Icon.

The #JoanneWorldTour dissolved me. I no longer dwell. @ladygaga pic.twitter.com/ dm3MwNk1nD

— Kelli Boyle (@ kellixboyle) August 29, 2017

I’m the first to admit I’m a total snot when it is necessary to musicians without even being one myself. I can carry a motif, but I play no instruments and couldn’t write a carol to save my damn life. But I did grow up doing musical theatre and dancing, so I set a lot of value( speak: literally all of the values) on stagecoach presence and product quality. I’m not going to see anyone live unless I know they put on a roughly perfect show that extends the whole nine yards for everything involved.

In my opinion, if you aren’t going to dance, what’s the phase? Why would I want to see someone was stand on stage for hours? If you’re not going to sing live, or if you don’t sound good talk live, are you even a vocalist? So to summarize that all up: I am a music snot and simply like luminaries even though I am a flare piling of dumpster garbage myself. Go it? Great. Moving on.

Lady Gaga is my everything now. Don’t get me wrong, she’s always been an incredible creator, but seeing her live was the closest stuff I’ve ever felt to finding Jesus. Everything she did was perfect. The singing, the dancing, the visuals, everything.

Lady Gaga saying “I’m a free bitch baby” is my religion #JoanneWorldTour pic.twitter.com/ sOG7QC 6Xek

— Kelli Boyle (@ kellixboyle) August 29, 2017

There was one point when she was singing “John Wayne” that she propped the side of her body on the side of her hunched-over dance collaborator and withstood the regulations of physics and gravity while having both hoofs in the air but just any substantiate underneath her. I still don’t understand how it happened, and I will likely waste the rest of my life trying to person it out. And don’t even get me on the vocals she was providing throughout the whole show. Just like Beyonce, she chimes better live. And the RIFFS, sugared mother of deity, my ears have never heard anything so pure.

And you know how she has a beautiful affection with Tony Bennett? Well, he was at the concert on Monday to corroborate her and sat, like, six sits away from me in the Verizon Up slouse. He is a treasured angel whom we must protect at all costs. Gaga dedicated “Come To Mama” to him, and you can bet your sweet ass I invested the entire hymn staring at Bennett like the move I am so I could watch the affectionate pride on his appearance. Back in 2011, before their Grammy-winning album was even realized, Gaga sang “The Lady Is A Tramp” with Bennett on his album,. When provide comments on the experience, Bennett — one of the most famous vocalists of all time — said about Gaga, “I never met a more talented person in “peoples lives” … I remember she’s going to become as big as Elvis Presley.”

Honestly, where is the lie? Starting to a Lady Gaga show isn’t only your typical concert. It’s a showcase of one of the most talented artists our generation is to be able to are presented in the primary of her career. We may be the ones paying for a ticket, but once the prove starts, it seems more like you’re her what she’s owed rather than her add you an aesthetic busines. Imagine her stellar Super Bowl accomplishment, but two hours long and with much more unforgettable minutes. She doesn’t begin the show by propelling from the stadium ceiling; she literally exactly step on theatre slowly and starts singing, and it’s electrifying. She knows she doesn’t necessity death-defying routines to amaze her concert-goers — all she requires is a stagecoach and a mic.

There’s a certain kind of stage presence hotshots like Beyonce and Lady Gaga possess that oblige fans go insane the moment they step on theatre. It’s the elusive “it” quality everyone talks about but can never seem to really define, and that’s because “it” is beyond definition. It’s simply a commonwealth of being that exclusively people who were meant to perform on stage are born with. It’s not learned, preferably it exists within a musician and is finely aria over time. And witnessing that quality live acquires you feel like the rest of the world doesn’t prevail outside of this act. You’re seduced in, you’re accessed, and then you leave a little different than you were when you came in. It’s like a shot of vitality immediately into your bloodstream, and not many artists can make a person feel this way.

It’s why we residence such a high value on musicians. Their aptitude makes us feel like the world is one monstrous pool of possibility that we would be luck to only dip our toes into, let alone dive in headfirst. If you’re find specially low-pitched given the government of the world, going to see Lady Gaga’s World Tour. It will pump the much-needed life back into you, and you’ll leave experiencing like you simply witnessed a piece of record you’ll to tell your grandchildren years from now.

In her chant “Angel Down, ” Gaga sings,

In a macrocosm where it seems like every news story is a bad one and the future seems dismal, Lady Gaga reminds you that just because we’re young, doesn’t mean we’re incorrect, misguided, or naive in our convictions. Her discography historically celebrates everything millennials appraise: equality, truth, following, passion, and being unapologetically, authentically you. The World Tour couldn’t be more perfectly epoch, as its message serves as a reminder of the things millennials importance most and emboldens “youve got to” never forget the importance of those qualities.

“Let’s do this one for Texas since I acquire their hat.” Lady Gaga dedicating “Million Reasons” to Houston #JoanneWorldTour pic.twitter.com/ R4uPEgjgxH

— Kelli Boyle (@ kellixboyle) August 29, 2017

So if you’re feeling specially useless in the face of all of the bullsh* t going on in the world, disappear construe Lady Gaga live. It’s the fix you need.

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The post I Croak To Lady Gaga’s Concert And I Literally Feel Reborn( This Way) appeared first on vitalmindandbody.com.

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Inconceivables: Legends of Tomorrow S2E15 “Moonshot”

Siren

Hit: Mick goes again. Hit: Sara’s sunglasses. Hit: Sara’s still Captain in Gideon’s eyes. Hit: Poor Rip isn’t needed. Miss: They’re going to have to cause a disaster. Miss: RocketMan Hit Family bonding MIss: Ray doesn't do stealth LOL:He had to practice for the musical sometime. Hit: Mick’s singing kinda. Hit: Bickering Tim Parents Miss: Sara what did you do to Gideon!! Hit/Miss: Ray is having too much fun with this. Real Talk: Don't’ trust him, Ray Ouch: Amaya delivers the truth. Ow: Nate hits back. WTF: HOW does this Thawne know about Season 1??? Question: Why has no one reassembled the cold gun to take down a speedster?? Hit: Like a boss, Thawne. Real Talk: Well, that’s one way to make sure he doesn’t go back. Hit: Ray just fucking knows. Hit: Amaya, meet Mari

ManENames

Hit: Mick waste no time in the intro. Real Talk: A t least his grandfather already has a kid so if he dies Nate still lives. Question: Is it me or does that outfit makes me think of Caity Lotz being a much better choice to play Emma Frost? Real Talk: I'm guessing that's how Hourman was in the present warning the Legends. Rip must've send him to the present. Hit: Mick's a fan of Elvis. Hit: Best Last Crusade reference ever! Hit: That's actually cleaver. LOL: Mick steals a cigar. Hit: Jax uses his British accent because the actor playing him is British. Miss: Solid Snake Ray is not. Real Talk: I guess Thawne isn't worried about Black Flash. Hit: Thawne doesn't need his speed to kick ass. Miss: No Stein, this isn't a musical episode. Miss: Snart try this with his dad and didn't work, Nate.

Siren: Miss: Nate doesn't know what Snart tried because no one ever talks about Snart.

Miss: 2001 A Space Odyssey reference. Hit/Miss: Rip is back as Captain but is not piloting the Waverider. Hit: Thawne mentions Cisco and Caitlin. Hit: There's a bit of truth in what Thawne says. Miss: God damn it! Why?! Real Talk: So this Thawne is a Time Remnant, did they mention this in Flash season 2? Hit: Cheers Miss: Damn it Amaya!

The Fantagonist

Miss: YOU KNOW? It seems like the Legends are screwing up history in the process of trying to save it.

Siren: That's a very common thing with time travel shows.

Real Talk: The Berlantiverse does a bad job when it comes to things like the first HR was really Thawne. He spent a considerable amount of time with Barry, Cisco, and Caitlin. You'd think that a bit of that would have rubbed off on him. We see a little bit of that when Thawne is on the shop and mentions working with Cisco and Caitlin. But it's funny how it only comes up when they need it to. Any other time they've blamed HR for everything that Thawne has done.

Siren: I think it's a bit of cognitive dissonance. Thawne looked like Wells, so it's hard for Barry and gang to refer to him as Thawne when they were so very used to calling him Wells.

[tune-collective]

The Mavericks' Raul Malo Talks Releasing New Album 'Brand New Day' On Their Own Label

The Mavericks' Raul Malo Talks Releasing New Album 'Brand New Day' On Their Own Label

Typically, when an act leaves a label, there are usually some rough waves in the water that cause such a shift. However, if you are expecting any such notions from The Mavericks concerning issuing their new album Brand New Day on their own Mono Mundo label — rather than Big Machine/Valory, the home of their past three releases — lead singer Raul Malo advises you to think again.

“Big Machine was nothing but great to us,” he tells us. “I think there comes a time where certain realities set in, and as an artist, you look at the big picture of the landscape, and see what’s best for you. Those guys at Big Machine worked hard to put The Mavericks back on the map. But, I think creatively for us — not that Scott Borchetta ever said ‘You have to record this or that.’ He wanted us to be ourselves. There was never an issue of them not letting us record this or that, it just had to do with the realities of the business that we are in. The business that we are in is a little different than the business that Big Machine is in. That’s just the reality of it. We had to make that switch for ourselves, not because of them. It wasn’t anything they did. A lot of those guys are our friends, and I still seek their counsel.”

Malo admitted that the group is a unique musical offering, and now being on their own suits today’s model both artistically and business-wise. “The Mavericks are kind of a world unto ourselves — creatively, and the paths that the music has taken us, everything about the band is an island unto itself. Our business model has to reflect that. It has to be custom-tailored for us, just like everything else about us.”

Listening to the album offers listeners a chance to head into a time machine when artists were allowed to veer all over the musical map. The first track, “Rolling Along,” owes equally to 60’s Elvis Presley and Marty Robbins for its’ inspiration. Malo likes the comparison. “I grew up listening to so much music. It’s funny that you mention Marty Robbins because he was another artist that brought a lot of influences together,” the singer says. “His records were different, one from another, and he really pushed the boundaries a bit. To me, Elvis was the first artist that I heard, and It’s Now Or Never in particular was probably the record that had the most impact on me musically. Here was a record that combined opera and rock ‘n’ roll. It was an amazing piece of music, and of course, his music was as impressive as anything else. That record made me listen to music in a very different way.”

One track from Brand New Day that has a special significance for Malo is the emotional ballad “I Wish You Well,” which he says comes from a special place. “I wrote that about my dad, who passed away last year. As he was coming around to the end of his life, I spent as much time with him as I could. We would sit around and watch baseball and the news, and really not talk about anything heavy. We’d just treat it as if it were another day. I would find myself not really saying much. There was never really any heavy ‘end of life’ conversations or anything like that. All I could say was ‘I wish you well in your next life.’ Everything has been said between us that could be said. We had said everything that we needed to be said, and that was all I could say. I wish you well. It was very beautiful, but that was my dad. He wasn’t much for emotions or sentimentality. He was old school. He was tough. He never complained, even though he was in pain. He just wanted to watch baseball and talk politics, and that was it,” he recalls.

Speaking of politics, Malo is mindful of the volatile tone that everyone is striking nowadays with the new administration in power.

“It is very divisive, and I hate that we can’t have political opinions without someone jumping down our throat. There’s been years of that on both sides, and I think that moving forward, if anything, what this president is going to do is show us how we relate to each other from this point on, how we criticize each other from this point on. When you cry wolf so many times, and there’s really a wolf there, you can’t keep crying wolf all the time. I think we’re all going to have to learn how to criticize properly. There’s a way to criticize policy and ideas, but it’s certainly been taken to a personal level that I don’t think we’ve seen in a long time. It’s going to take us a minute to sift through all of this,” he says, while adding that Americans can navigate these waters in time. “I do think this president is going to be challenging in many ways, not only constitutionally, but the media is challenged now in the world of alternative facts. It’s a scary thing for everybody to be dealing with. I really do think we’re going to be a better country because of it. I am optimistic. I’m not one of those that thinks the world is coming to an end. I still believe in this country and democracy, and I think we’ll be ok.”

Of a more humorous note is the road song “Ride With Me,” which he’s very excited for fans to hear. “That’s a very true and honest song, if ever I’ve had one. It’s definitely autobiographical. It’s one that is just a fun road song. Sometimes you just sit down at the piano or with a guitar, and one comes along that just writes itself. There’s nothing heavy or serious about it, it’s just fun — the fight in the French Quarter, that really did happen with our tour manager. He ended up whipping this guy’s ass who grabbed him by the neck. If you saw our tour manager, you would never want to grab him by the neck. I don’t know what he was thinking, but it ended quickly. The part about Chicago, I did go there as a child — ‘I was single when I went to Chicago, then I left a married man.’ That’s a fun and autobiographical song.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9lukrCERy8

Those hours spent on stage still are the highlight of the group’s career in Malo’s eyes, and though time has mellowed his thoughts on traveling, it’s something he still enjoys.

“At this point, when you’ve been doing it as long we have, there’s a little bit of gypsy in you to where you are ok with it. I actually do enjoy traveling. I like hotels, and I do like living on a bus. It’s a great way to make a living,” he suggests. “There are some days where you wish you were a carpenter, but who doesn’t have those days? I can imagine that with any gig, there are days where you wish you did something else. I think everybody has those days, but all in all, when you get on the stage, that’s the most fun you can have on a day for us. That is the reason you do this — to connect with the audience.”

What brought about the name of the group’s new label, Mono Mundo? Again, Malo said it was in fun, though it does make a point. “We wanted something that reminded us of [Spanish network] Telemundo, and we had done our record Mono. We were messing with possible management/label names and finally said, ‘This is a great name’ because it basically means ‘one world.’ It touches on the singularity of us all, and we all come from this one place. There’s a little bit of idealistic jargon in there, for good measure, but it was just a fun name coming from the musical language that unites us all, no matter what walk of life or where you are from — music is a very powerful equalizer and unites us. That’s really at the heart of the name of the label.”

Brand New Day will be released March 31.

This article originally appeared on: Billboard

http://tunecollective.com/2017/03/16/mavericks-raul-malo-talks-releasing-new-album-brand-new-day-label/

[trendingnewsb]

6 Famous People Whose Origin Stories Are Dark Secrets

Nobody expects celebrities to actually be exactly the way they portray themselves publicly. Bruce Willis doesn’t go around killing terrorists every day (that probably happens, like, every other weekend). When you’re famous, it’s understood that you’ll have to bullshit a little and cultivate an image that appeals to your audience. But some do less cultivating and more top-to-bottom renovations. It’s always shocking when famous people turn out to be the complete opposite of what they’re famous for. And that’s the case with …

6

Kid Rock Was Born Rich And Grew Up In A Huge-Ass Mansion

No “celebrity goes into politics” story will ever be weird again, but the announcement that Kid Rock might run for Senate still managed to turn a few heads. After all, his biggest claim to fame was supposedly spending a summer “trying different things … smoking funny things,” and based on his ability to rhyme “things” with “things,” he surely has no better than an eighth-grade education, right?

Rock wants us to think he’s some rough-and-tumble country boy, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. His childhood home in Macomb County, Michigan recently sold for nearly $1.3 million, which we’re reasonably sure would be enough to buy whole towns around there. It turns out that his dad owned two luxury car dealerships and made some not-insignificant amounts of money.

Romeo High School “Your little rec center shall make a great showroom for our Bentleys. Papa will be most pleased.”

Mr. and Mrs. Rock’s “four-bedroom, four-bath, neo-Georgian colonial house” is over 5,000 square feet, has an indoor Jacuzzi, amenities out the wazoo, and the property itself contains an apple orchard. Rock has tried to flaunt his down-home country style and use it to smear politicians as “out of touch.” That doesn’t have the same gravity now that we know his past.

Adam Serwer/Twitter That’s a sad burger for so many reasons.

5

Rapper Rick Ross Was A Prison Guard

Florida rapper Rick Ross is best known for his songs about nonstop hustling and pushing it to the limit (“it” being all of the drugs). Hell, he got his name from a drug kingpin. That’s why it was kind of a shocker when it came out that Ross was a corrections officer (read: prison guard) prior to getting into the rap game.

After the story broke about his previous life of literally the opposite of crime, Ross originally denied it, but somehow the media managed to get ahold of pay stubs that proved it. For about two years in the mid-’90s, he worked as a CO in Florida. Granted, that makes him more of a badass than being a CO in, say, Terre Haute, Indiana, but it didn’t help his street cred any.

Florida Department of Corrections, Maybach Music Group His earliest songs were about how much he hated that Urkel kid who kept visiting his house.

Even 50 Cent took a jab at Ross in a rap to point out how dumb it was for Rozay to keep acting like he was something he wasn’t. After all, if you’re only learning about smuggling drugs and weapons from someone else’s case file instead of doing it yourself, can you sincerely say your raps come from the heart?

Probably thanks to some magical PR whiz, Ross finally owned up to his past. Rather than dismiss his old job as some kind of phase, he managed to call it a “hustle” in its own right. (We’re beginning to think that absolutely anything can be a hustle as long as one declares it so.)

4

Ron Jeremy Was A Special Education Teacher

Lots of people watch porn — about 67 percent of you are only reading this while you wait for some to load. Even the “casual” viewer can probably name a fair number of lady porn stars, but for some reason, about the only male porn actor most people can identify is Ron Jeremy. He’s been the mustachioed face of videotaped boning for decades, but believe it or not, that wasn’t really his Plan A.

On an episode of Judge Pirro, Jeremy admitted that his background was in theater, and that he’d gone on to get a master’s degree in special education. As in working with disabled kids.

Jeremy is happy to talk about his educator past, and always considered his teaching degree his fallback option, or “ace in the hole” (that’s probably not the only thing he’s called that). He majored in theater in college, and much like theater majors of today, he went and tacked on an education degree “just in case.”

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One time, Jeremy and a friend (the school psychologist) picked up a couple of women and brought them back to what they claimed was their “hotel,” which was in truth the school for developmentally challenged kids where they worked. The building used to be a hotel, so they didn’t lie, precisely, but that’s the kind of thing you’d expect from the future star of Ebony Humpers 2. They also told the ladies that they were going to a convention for doctors, which was pure bullshit. In the morning, Jeremy and his friend brought the women up to the “hotel restaurant,” cleverly disguised as a goddamned school cafeteria. (The kids there were reportedly quite thrilled to meet them.)

3

The “Blue Collar” Comedy Tour Is Pretty Well-Educated

The Blue Collar Comedy Tour is a group of comedians who joined forces when they realized they were essentially using the same shtick, so why not put on a show together? And put on a show they did, because as far as Larry the Cable Guy and Jeff Foxworthy go, their entire careers are an act.

Most people are probably smart enough to assume that Larry the Cable Guy is not in fact named Larry the Cable Guy. What fewer people know is that he’s as far from “Southern” as it gets. He’s originally from Nebraska, which is definitely rural, but not “The hell kind of accent you got there, boy?” rural. The closest he got was that attending Baptist University in Decatur, Georgia (to major in drama and speech), but even so, that means he went to Georgia to go to college. That’s like your friend who studied abroad in Ireland coming back to America with a Cockney accent.

Seriously, watch him duck in and out of his “Southern” accent. It’s creepy:

Foxworthy, at least, is a native Georgian. His accent is real. But asking him to host Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader was an interesting choice, because he almost certainly is — dude went to Georgia Tech.

Granted, he didn’t graduate, but that’s in part because he landed a job working for his father at IBM in mainframe computer maintenance. Foxworthy, for his part, has tried to downplay it. There’s an obvious dichotomy between “college-educated computer guy” and “redneck” in our culture, but Jeff thinks there’s a bit more nuance than that:

“Here’s the problem that the media makes: They tend to think if you gave rednecks a billion dollars they wouldn’t be rednecks anymore. Look at Elvis — he put carpet on the ceiling. We wouldn’t wear Armani suits, we would just go to every NASCAR race.”

Someone should maybe tell him that Armani makes rather comfortable sweatpants.

2

Only One Of The Beach Boys Could Surf

Surfing isn’t merely a fun beach activity — it’s a lifestyle, brah. As soon as people discovered they could ride waves, it became a culture in itself. Nobody embodied that culture in the 1960s better than the Beach Boys, with their songs about the beach, fast cars, psychedelic farm animals, and then the beach again. They knew everything there was to know about taming the wild waves and impressing those California girls with their surf moves. Right? Right?

Well, no. Only one of them could surf.

Dennis Wilson, the drummer, was the only band member who knew the correct end of a surfboard. In 1961, he told fellow Beach Boys Brian Wilson and Mike Love, “Hey, surfing’s getting really big. You guys ought to write a song about it.” And then more songs about it …

… and then a couple of albums about it …

… and then an entire career about it. Had Dennis picked another random hobby, today they’d be known as the Model Train Building Boys. The band basically owes their success to Dennis’ suggestion. Although he also introduced them to his buddy Charles Manson, so not all of his ideas were so good.

Sadly, Dennis passed away in the very California ocean he loved after falling off a boat at age 39. His legacy lives on in every pastel-colored surf shack up and down the Pacific coast, and in the hearts of every Los Angeles tourist who tries surfing with a Groupon on a Saturday afternoon.

1

Neocon Poster Boy Milo Yiannopoulos Was (And Probably Still Is) A Total Dweeb

Milo Yiannopoulos is … no, not the main character from Disney’s Atlantis: The Lost Empire. He’s this guy:

You may know him as the firebrand Breitbart editor whose swagger lets him get away with spouting fascist rhetoric for a little too long, turning thousands of confused young men into his personal fan club and helping push them closer to all-out xenophobia. Yiannopoulos has been known to flirt with Nazi ideas and imagery, and — despite straight-up asking white supremacists for snazzy new Breitbart story angles — it’s all OK! He’s only “trolling.” When he talks about the evils of immigration or how trans people don’t deserve basic dignity, he’s not repeating the same backwards bullshit your grandpa used to complain about on the dinner table; he’s writing genius political satire, you see. Truly, a Voltaire for the age of Twitter. (Or Facebook, since Twitter banned his ass.)

But before all this, Yiannopoulos got his start as a rather inept and awkward tech writer for a bunch of websites, including Breitbart, and he looked like this:

That’s Yiannopoulos showing off his dorky, possibly Nazi ring, and presumably posing for his MySpace photo. Wonder what that profile would’ve entailed? Maybe something about how he likes to write poetry (read: plagiarize Tori Amos lyrics) for fun? Perhaps something further about how video game fans are losers and psychopaths, despite using that whole ridiculous #Gamergate saga to further his career? Months before “freedom of speech” became his battle cry and the excuse for his particular brand of outrageous dickishness, Yiannopoulos wrote a whole Breitbart column about how those goshdarn video games (which are enjoyed by “unemployed saddos living in their parents’ basements”) were probably to blame for the Elliot Rodger murders, and someone ought to do something about them.

How did he evolve his writing style from “angry letter writer at your local newspaper” to “edgiest shitlord on the internet”? He didn’t. His current work is largely ghost-written and researched by people he actively works to maintain uncredited and anonymous, because if he doesn’t get all the fame and attention, then what even is the point? Yiannopoulos is barely a person; he’s a crappy Halloween mask precariously placed on top of a heap of regressive ideas society had already flushed down the toilet. By the way, it was an unassuming teenage journalist from Canada who put the brakes on Yiannopoulos’ rising star by digging up his pro-pedophilia comments from 2016. (If it wasn’t for that, he’d probably have his own show on Fox News by now.) We’re sure it wasn’t the Universe’s intention to violently punish him in the most ironic way possible — it was just a prank, bro.

Isaac feels like a fraud pretty much every day. Follow him on Twitter.

Feel like Kid Rock has betrayed you? Don’t go cold turkey, instead try a KICK ROCKS shirt as a way to cope with the pain.

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