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starkwlkr · 6 days

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you’re so vain | jenson button

through the decades masterlist

California 1972

The day you met Jenson Button was the day you swore you would never fall in love with, but of course his charming smile had convinced you. But then came the worst part, he had become someone else. If you looked up the definition of vain in the dictionary, a picture of Jenson would be there. Ever since he became the world champion, it was all he could talk about.

“Hey, lovely, why don’t you put down the pen and paper and let’s go drive around? I know the perfect place for you and me. Remember how you used to love driving with me?” Jenson said over the phone one day.

“I would rather die than ever go on a date with you again, Jenson Button.” And you ended the call. You weren’t sure how he even got your number in the first place, but one thing was for sure, you would never go on a date with him.

After dismissing your call with Jenson, you walked back to your recording booth where your band was. You had a melody stuck in your head for the past couple of days and you desperately wanted to write down lyrics for it, but nothing came up.

“Hey, Y/n! Some Button guy keeps calling the landline, says he wants to take you out to dinner.” The drummer of your band said as he entered the room.

“For fucks sake.” You sighed. “Tell him I’m not here, that I left the country or something.”

“Okay . . . ” The drummer, Brad, said confused but went with it. He walked back to the phone.

“Button guy? What’s that about?” The guitarist, Dave, asked.

“He’s a formula one driver, but he’s so egotistical! This one time we went to a party and he walks in like he’s on a yacht! I can’t believe I even went out with him. . .” You sighed.

“Aren’t all formula one drivers a little bit egotistical? Or this Button guy worse?” Brad came back. “He asked if you were writing a song about him and I hung up. Can’t believe you dated him.”

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned. “What’s worse is that we’re supposed to perform at his boss’s birthday party this weekend. He’s definitely going to be there.”

When you were with Jenson, his boss had asked you to perform at his birthday party and you being the kind person, you said yes. Now there was no way of getting out of it.

Brad then spoke. “Well if he wants a song written about him. . . I say you write one and you perform it at the party.”

It didn’t take you long to grab your journal and pen and start writing down lyrics. You had your new song finished it about three hours and spent the rest of the afternoon coming up with a melody with the band. Soon, Jenson Button would hear his song in front of thousands of people.

—

Jenson had arrived to the party as if he owned the place. He had a pretty woman by his side and a beer in his hand. He spotted his friends and greeted them.

“This beauty right here is . . .” Jenson truly couldn’t remember the woman’s name. Sarah? Linda? “Tell them your name, love, it sounds better when you say it cause of your accent. Music to my ears!”

“Amara, nice to meet you.” The woman said with a lovely Italian accent.

“How’d you meet each other?” Jenson’s friend asked.

“Met her in Saratoga.” Jenson replied. In reality, that was all he remembered. What was he doing in Saratoga? Who knows. . .

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention.” The host of the party and Jenson’s boss announced on the microphone. He stood on the stage with a bright smile. “First off, thank you for joining me and my family this evening. We’ve had a very successful year, thanks to our world champion, Jenson Button!”

A bright light shined on Jenson, who waved to the crowd, clearly loving the attention. Soon enough, Jenson wouldn’t like it at all.

“Now, for the main event, miss y/n l/n!”

You walked to the stage with total confidence. You wore your best dress and heels, ready to sing your heart out. The crowd cheered for you and the band, all but one. Jenson.

“Isn’t that the chick you were dating?” A friend whispered to him.

“Her name is y/n.” Jenson corrected.

“Well hello! You all look very lovely tonight. We are very happy to be here and I hope we all have a great time. So our first song is a new one, but feel free to dance.” You smiled at the crowd as your band started playing.

You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht

Your hat strategically dipped below one eye Your scarf it was apricot

Jenson watched as you sang beautifully. He had seen you perform many times before but this one felt different. Even his date was loving the new song. Amara bopped her head as you sang.

It wasn’t until the chorus that Jenson started to realize what was going on.

“You're so vain! You probably think this song is about you!” You sang as you looked at Jenson.

Of course she would do this, thought Jenson. He looked around and saw the crowd living the song. How could they enjoy it?

“I bet you think this song is about you. Don't you, don't you?”

As you continue singing, Jenson remembered the phone call he made several days ago.

“Is she writing a song about me? Oh, poor lovesick y/n can’t get over me.”

This was his song. Fuck.

Suddenly, the confident Jenson was nowhere to be seen. You took that confidence and stomped on it with your pretty little heels. For once in his life, Jenson hated being your muse.

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #jenson button x reader #jenson button imagine #jenson button fic #jenson button #jb22

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funkopersonal · 4 days

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Here's your daily reminder that...

Jews are only 0.2% of the worlds population but...

Jews make up 14% of the World Total and 38% of the United States of America total winners for the Nobel Prize for Literature (source).

Jews make up 14% of the total winners of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction 18% of the total winners of the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry; 53% of the total winners of the Pulitzer Prize for Non-Fiction (source).

Jews make up 39% of the total winners of the Antoinette Perry (Tony) Award for Best Play; 54% of the total winners of the Tony Award for Best Book of a Musical (with 62% of all Composers and 66% of all Lyricists of Best Musical-winning productions being Jewish) (source).

Jews make up 40% of the total winners of the Academy Award (Oscar) for Best Original Screenplay; and 34% of the total winners of the Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay (source).

Although Jews constitute only 3% of the U.S. population...

80% of the nation’s professional comedians are Jewish (source).

90% of American comic book creators are jewish (source)

38% of the recipients of the United States National Medal of Science are Jewish (Source).

Jews are very successful, with educational levels higher than all other U.S. ethnic groups with the exception of Asian Americans, and income levels the highest of all groups. Six out of ten Jewish adults have college degrees, and 41% of Jewish families report a household income of $75,000 or more” (source)

Jews are a minority across the globe. We've been historically opressed and hated. But these key figures from history are all Jewish and loved, yet many don't even know they're jewish (or they don't know these people in the first place!):

Stan Lee (birth name: Stanley Martin Lieber) - An American comic book writer and editor, Former executive vice president and publisher of marvel Comics, creator of iron-man, spider-man, and more.

Albert Einstein - a Theoretical physicist, Received the 1921 Nobel Prize in Physics, developed the theory of relativity and the "worlds most famous equation" (E = mc^2), and more.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg - Former Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, co-authored the initial law school casebook on sex discrimination, co-founded the Women’s Rights Project at the ACLU in 1972, and more.

Jack Kirby (birth name: Jacob Kurtzberg) - an American comic book artist, co-creator of Captain America, one of the most influential comic book artists

Harry Houdini (birth name: Erich Weisz) - a Hungarian-American escape artist, illusionist, and stunt performer, noted for his escape acts.

Emma Lazarus - An American author remembered for her sonnet "The New Colossus," Inspired by The Statue of Liberty and inscribed on its pedestal as of 1903.

Julius Rosenthal, Lillian Wald, Rabbi Emil G. Hirsch, Stephen Wise, and Henry Moskowitz - Jewish activists that helped form the NAACP along with W.E.B. Dubois, Ida B. Wells-Barnett, and Mary Church Terrell.

Mark Zuckerberg - Founder and CEO of Meta, a businessman who co-founded the social media service Facebook, and within four years became the world’s youngest self-made billionaire Harvard alumni.

Joseph Pulitzer - a politician and newspaper publisher, his endowment to the Columbia University established the Pulitzer Prizes in 1917, he founded the Columbia School of Journalism which opened in 1912.

Jacob William Davis - a Latvian tailor who is credited with inventing modern jeans and who worked with Levi Strauss to patent and mass-produce them, died.

Irving Berlin - drafted at age 30 to write morale-boosting songs for military revues (including “God Bless America”). Many Berlin songs remained popular for decades, including “Puttin’ on the Ritz,” “Cheek to Cheek,” “Anything You Can Do (I Can Do Better),” “There’s No Business Like Show Business,” and two celebrating Christian holidays: “White Christmas” and “Easter Parade.”

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel - received his doctorate in Berlin. He was arrested by the Nazis in 1938, moved to the U.S. in 1940, and became an influential figure in the 1960s, marching with the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. in Selma, Alabama, and speaking out against the Vietnam War.

Elie Wiesel - Romanian-American writer and professor, holocaust survivor, nobel laureate, political activist. Authored 57 books including Night, a work based on his experiences as a Jewish prisoner in the Auschwitz and Buchenwald concentration camps

Bob Dylan - an icon of folk, rock and protest music, won the Nobel Prize in literature for his complex and poetic lyrics.

J. Robert Oppenheimer - ran the Manhattan Project, considered the "father of the atomic Bomb," presented with the Enrico Fermi Award by President Lyndon Johnson.

Betty Friedan - co-founded the National Organization of Women and became its first president, wrote The Feminine Mystique (1963) and helped spark the second wave of feminism.

Gloria Steinem - one of the most prominent feminists of all time, launched Ms. Magazine and co-founded the National Women’s Political Caucus with Bella Abzug, Shirley Chisholm, Betty Friedan and Myrlie Evers-Williams, widow of Medgar Evers.

Sergey Brin - an American businessman best known for co-founding Google with Larry Page, president of Alphabet Inc.

Judith Heumann - a founder of the disability rights movement, led a 26-day sit-in at a federal building in San Francisco. The protest spurred implementation of Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, a precursor to the Americans with Disabilities Act.

Larry Kramer - co-founded Gay Men’s Health Crisis in response to the AIDS epidemic but was soon ousted over his confrontational activism. He went on to help launch a more strident group, ACT UP, and wrote a critically acclaimed play, The Normal Heart, about the early AIDS years in New York City.

Steven Spielberg - released his critically acclaimed epic film Schindler’s List, based on the true story of a German industrialist who saved Jews during the Holocaust. The movie won seven Oscars and led Spielberg to launch the Shoah Foundation at the University of Southern California, which filmed interviews with 52,000 survivors of the Holocaust and genocides in Nanjing and Rwanda.

Calvin Klein - made designer jeans and the infamous ad starring Brooke Shields revolutionized the fashion industry, sold his company to Phillips-Van Heusen (now PVH) for $430 million. Klein was the first designer to win three consecutive Coty Awards for womenswear.

Daveed Diggs - an American actor, rapper, and singer-songwriter. he originated the dual roles of Marquis de Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson in the musical Hamilton, for which he won a 2016 Tony Award for Best Actor in a Featured Role in a Musical. Along with the main cast of Hamilton, he was awarded a Grammy Award for Best Musical Theater Album in the same year.

And so much more. (a pretty decent list is available here)

Not only that, but the following are all Jewish inventions...

The Teddy Bear - made by Morris and Rose Michtom in honor of Theodore "Teddy" Roosevelt.

The Ballpoint Pen - *the first commercially sucessfull ballpoint pen was made by Lazlo Biro, a Hungarian-Jew, and his brother.

Mobile Phones - made by Martin Cooper, nicknamed the "father of the cellphone", and was born in Chicago to Ukrainian Jewish immigrants.

The Barbie - made by Ruth Marianna Handler, born to Polish-Jewish immigrants.

Power Rangers - made by Haim Saban, a Jewish-Egyptian

Video Games - made by Ralph Baer, a German-Jew

Peeps - made by Sam Born, a Russian-Jewish immigrants who came to the United States in 1909.

Cards Against Humanity - created by a group of Jewish boys from the same high school

Many Superheroes including Superman, Ironman, spider-man, batman, and more!

and more! (an illustrated list available here.)

Conclusion: If you're Jewish, be proud. You come from a long line of successful people. No matter what happened to them, Jews persevered, and they strived for sucess. Be proud of your culture, your history, these are your people. You're Jewish.

(feel free to reblog and add more, or just comment and i'll add it!)

Last Updated: May 31, 5:30 PM EST

#funkowrites #jumblr #jewblr #jewish tumblr #israel solidarity #judaism #jewish #antisemitism #stop antisemitism #op is a proud jew #proud to be jewish #jewish joy #jewish positivity #jew #proud jew #we will persevere

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sheisjoeschateau · 4 months

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misha's masterlists

Hi, I'm Misha. Thank you for diving into my stories and supporting my writing :)

My fanfics [+this blog] are dedicated to Steve Harrington. All fanfic series, one-shots, blurbs, etc. listed below are written by me. Do not repost or share anywhere without proper credit. Thank you.

SERIES MASTERLISTS:

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..."

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

[Part IX - blurb] | [Part IX - full]

[Part X] | MORE COMING SOON

SUMMARY: WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU.

HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU...

BUT WILL HE?

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"You're there. You've always been there."

Steve Harrington x OC!fem!reader Childhood friends to lovers. Sloooowburn. Angst. Romance. Smut with plot. Action. Told from second-person view, reader is Nicole (character from S1), different POV, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, pre-S1-S4, eventual post-S4 universe.

[PART I] | [PART II]

Summary: Steve Harrington was six years old when he met you: Nicole St. James, the girl who carries the other half of him. Since 1972, the two of you have been inseparably tethered by the soul. You give Steve a home in his big house with no parents, and he gives your introverted heart a longing for someone. The King of Hawkins High and princess of this small town, you tell each other absolutely everything...except that you are in love with each other.

Everything changes that one afternoon at school, when you catch the school's social outcast -- Jonathan Buyers -- has been stalking Steve, his posse and his girl, Nancy. Little do you both know, the monsters in your favorite fairytales are real. And you're both going to have to fight them together.

You both share the best days and worst days, through childhood and teen years, until you both find yourselves roped into the perils that exist beneath your feet in Hawkins.

But through it all, despite all the doubt, Steve knows one thing: you're there. You've always been there.

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"At the Chateau, We'll Be Alright."

Steve Harrington x Jonathan Byers x fem!reader A crossover au inspired by Saltburn and Call Me by Your Name. Additional Inso from Joe's theater performance as in Spring Awakening. Song Inso: "Chateau" by Djo

Strangers to best friends to lovers. Slowburn. Angst. Romance, with polyamory themes and schemes. Smut with hella plot.

[MULTI-PART SERIES] COMING SOON. Click here for a preview.

Summary: The reader lives with her parents at a fancy chateau, in France. This year, her father offers their home as a housing sanctuary to a select student or graduate. He decides to invite two graduate students to live with their family over the summer, coming from different working class backgrounds, and help with their academic paperwork as a professor of archaeology.

Steve Harrington: a rich kid from a swanky boarding school with a bad boy reputation and too much charm for his own good. Surprisingly, his grades say otherwise. A’s and B’s, his parents claim that is seeking one-on-one tutoring so that he can progress in his studies — but it sounds more like an excuse to ship him off for longer periods of time, giving them an out for having their son around during the summer. The pretty boy’s all about ladies…but that’s only because he hasn’t met a boy who awakens his bisexuality. Yet.

Jonathan Byers: a kid from the lower working class, excelling in his studies and AP programs at the same boarding school as Steve which he only got into because of community sponsorship and grants. Quiet wallflower, little to no friends, a bit cynical. A closeted gay, he’s more determined to stick with being perceived as “ace” than come out of the closet. Until he goes to stay at a chateau with a handsome boy, and a beautiful girl who understands him.

Twists, turns and terrifying risks, you all put your hearts on the line that summer at the Chateau. Add the reader's cousin Eddie into the mix, along with her best friend Robin, Steve's ex-girlfriend Nancy, Jonathan's estranged mother and your progressive parents alongside Steve's absent parents -- it's a cruel summer.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #mishas masterlists #oh so we do love steve #steve and bauman

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m1ssunderstanding · 3 months

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.2

The thing is Paul just physically can't say what he feels. It's just an impossibility for him. So if he says reading a negative article about himself “doesn't help” or “it's not good” but it “doesn't get home” I just assume he means ‘It hurts, but I can't think about that too hard or I'll go into a self-hate suicidal spiral again’.

I always love how Paul says Linda. “Linder is er, nature mad.”

She!!

Hearing Paul talk about watching Mary be born makes me wonder if John was there with Sean? Also I wonder if Linda would talk about the experience so glowingly. Probably. She's tough as nails. I had a lovely experience, personally, after the epidural lol

“Dear friend . . . I'm in love with a friend of mine.” This is such a strange and beautiful song. It's a man who has to apologize to his friend for falling in love with someone else. At least, that's my interpretation. What's everyone else's?

I understand why he's so closed off. I do. But when John is going off every five seconds, we're missing half the picture here and it's turning out warped. They really are such a good study of attachment honestly.

“Nothing will ever break the love we have for each other.” White-knuckling my way through this section with this quote clenched in my fist.

Yoko, talking about John fighting with Paul: any couple will go from swearing to kissing and it's like that. What favors are you doing yourself here, babe? Maybe John's the PR mastermind between the two of them.

I find John's comparison of working with his romantic partner to being ambidextrous very confusing. Does he mean just doing two things at once?

“If I can't have a fight with my best friend, I don't know who I can have a fight with.” -- Intro slutty gender-fluid Wings Paul my beloved -- “Tell me why, why, why do you treat me so bad? So bad? When you're the best friend a man ever had?” I heard on some podcast somewhere. Someone was going on about how forward-thinking the Beatles were to refer to the women in their songs as “friends”. And I was like, nununununu do not give them that credit.

This is just soooo. In this era? 90 minutes in the middle of a recording session?

John: Sorry, my estranged fiance is calling, gotta take a break. Guitarist: again? Drummer: how estranged can they be if they call every three minutes? Yoko: should we just record the other parts or . . . John: (receiver cradled to his cheek, lovesick grin on his face) Hey, how was Heather's school program? Haha, yeah, I bet she was.

Okay, so you've made up with Paul and now you're done being homophobic? *Cardi b voice* well that's suspicious.

The fact that John's asking Paul to play on stage with him in 1972?? Ugh! If it was just about legalities and money and shit I would be genuinely so pissed at Paul for not going. If only because Come Together sounds incredibly lame without his bass and piano. But also for the obvious fix-it reasons. I have to remind myself of how truly awful Klein was. By being the only one to stand firm against him, Paul actually ended up saving them all from a lot of trouble. But gosh would this have been good!

Things normal people say, for sure, for sure.

Okay in my head it went like this. John calls George and bitches about what an egomaniac Paul is because he won't do anything with him as long as Klein is involved. George gets off the phone and calls Ringo and they make a bet as to how long it is until John decides they should get rid of Klein.

“Where's your audience, Paul?” “In the theater, Dave.” As he should. The cuntiness is unparalleled. Yeah, maybe people like to see a family friendly eclectic magic pixie sexy hard rock floor show? Ever thought about that, Dave?

Anyway, he seems genuinely pissed when the interviewer even mentions the other Beatles and he refuses to even admit he still talks to any of them. Why?

John's just so benevolent and selfless. He's completely straight, of course, but he's always offering to do gay shit. You know. To be nice.

I forget that not only was May their literal employee, but she was ten years younger on top of that. And yet, she managed to do so much good in that relationship. I have so much respect for her.

There's obviously a lot going on behind the scenes that they don't say in interviews. Duh. But I wonder what it is that caused Paul to be so open and happy in this interview where he's asked about the other Beatles compared to before. I wonder if he and John had a really lovely talk, or if he's heard a demo of “I know, I know.” Or maybe it's just he's so reassured that they've got rid of Klein that he feels safe acting open to a reunion on record. Who knows, Yoko.

So so smart to pair “In My Life” handwritten lyrics with the matching lyrics of “I know I know” playing at the same time. I forget about that connection (“I love you more”) because it's so overshadowed by the “than yesterday” right after. I seriously wonder if John thought he was being so obvious with this one the way he was with HDYS and half hoped people would ask him if it was about Paul and he could make up for the whole thing. Because it's just so heavy-handed. It's beautiful. I love it. I'm sure Paul loved it. But yeah. John's just beating us over the head with the references here.

I also wonder (very tentatively!!!) if Paul was maybe a bit more emotionally vulnerable with John than we usually think. I would never think this except for the “you know I nearly broke down and cried” “I'm sorry that I made you cry” and “no more crying!” I don't know. What do we think?

His little baby smirk. It's so silly and cute. He's being very positive about getting back together, and the interviewer asks if John would initiate that. Just a very coy, “a, well, I couldn't say.” I wonder if at that point if he'd said on live tv that he wanted to get together again if it would've happened. Seems like it might have, but I understand him being scared.

Elton John taking pictures like a fan and John: I wanna impound all those photos till I get me green card. What a random idea for a commercial. I love it, obviously, it's hilarious. I wonder who thought of it.

This doc is so good at implication. The smirk as “loving in the palm of my hand” plays. That's not a reference to hand jobs, is it? Certainly not talking to someone with beautiful hands?

Everyone go look up Nineteen Hundred Eighty Five on YouTube. The singing sex is something else, yeah, but I'm always so blown away by the piano part. The fact that he's self taught and doesn't read music and this man will go on to compose symphonies.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #linda eastman #yoko ono #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

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sissylittlefeather · 1 month

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We Can Make the Morning

(or Angel Take 7)

A one-shot

A/N: I've had this idea for a while and just decided to go ahead and write it the other day while I was watching Elvis On Tour. I hope y'all enjoy this 1972 Elvis x fem!reader one-shot!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, handjob, ejaculation, oral sex (f receiving), possible concussion

Word count: ~3.7k

Greensboro, North Carolina. You've lived here your whole life. And you've been an Elvis fan since you heard his first record at the tender age of fifteen. Now you're in your early thirties and you finally find yourself at one of his shows. You've never managed to go to one before and something about this feels like destiny. Still, the best you could afford is a seat at the front of the balcony, but you're next to where he'll walk into and out of the arena. If you push, you might be able to get a pretty good glimpse of him, and that's all you've ever really wanted. You dream of more, but you know better than to think he's going to notice you or anything.

April 14th, 1972 is show day, finally. You get dressed and try to ignore your nerves as you fix your hair and swipe on your makeup. You opt for your favorite bell bottoms and a cropped peasant blouse. It's not the dressiest outfit you own, but it flatters you and shows off all your best assets. Not that it matters much. He'll never see you.

At the arena, you make your way to your seat and try to survey whether you'll be able to get to a place where you can really see him up close. Eventually the lights go down and the music starts up. You head over to the railing, but there's a hundred girls between you and the tunnel. There's no way you can fight through them this time. You'll have to try again at the end of the concert. You head back to your seat with a new determination.

The show is incredible.

He's wearing a dark blue jumpsuit with a belt that has an owl on it, as he points out during one of the songs. Even as far away as you are, you can tell he looks amazing. His voice is on point and his performance is unmatched. You sit in silence with your lips parted slightly and your eyes wide. It's like he's made of stardust. And you're not going to let him pass by without seeing him up close.

He ends the show with Can't Help Falling In Love and then bows with his arms held out holding the silver cape. You know he's going to move fast through the tunnel, so you run to the railing and push your way through all the women gathered there. It's hot and hard to breathe and your heart is pounding. You're pressed up against the railing where it hits you just below the waist. Your position on your platform boots is precarious but you lean over anyway, just in case he reaches up. You feel yourself getting lightheaded from the excitement, but you're not going to miss this for anything, no matter how you feel. Just then, you see him headed for the tunnel. Your ears start ringing and the edges of your vision go dark. You can't believe it's really him. As the blackness envelops you, someone behind you pushes on your back and you feel yourself falling...

******

On stage, Elvis knows he's putting on a hell of a show. The energy from the crowd is electric and the camera crew seems excited by the footage they're collecting. In truth, he's ready to be done with this damn movie. Ready to be done with this damn tour. He enjoys the stage portion but everything in between is grueling. And honestly, the loneliness has been setting in pretty hard for him, especially in the middle of the night. Sometimes he picks up a girl at a show, but most of his encounters are empty. And even if he does find someone he likes, the conversation is lacking or she's so starstruck she can't do much more than giggle or try way too hard to impress him in bed. He longs for a real connection.

On stage, though, he lives his dream every night. This show in North Carolina is particularly satisfying for some reason and he comes off the stage with a smile on his face. He makes his way quickly to the car, heading for the tunnel lined with screaming fans. Looking up briefly, something strange captures his eye.

He reacts quickly without thinking, throwing his arms out to catch you just before you hit the ground. Somehow, you fall perfectly into his grasp and he holds you like a baby. He's stopped running, so his entourage encircles him to urge him forward.

"You can't stop here, man!"

"Put her down; let's go!" He looks down at you in his arms and realizes you're out cold.

"I can't! She's out, guys!"

"You're gonna have to drop her!" He shakes his head vigorously.

"No. I'm bringin' her with me." The guys make eye contact across him. They know when he's like this there's no arguing with him. He starts moving forward again with you in his arms.

At the car, the guys try again to get him to drop you with a security guard, but he refuses.

"It's my fault she's like this! I'm not leavin' her!" He gets into the backseat of his car, holding you on his lap. The other guys roll their eyes and squeeze in with him. It was a tight fit even before you were there, so now it's almost impossible for them to smash into the car. He wraps his arms around you tighter and holds you to him while the guys pile in. Sweat from the show slides down his face and he looks at you in his arms. The gentle lines of your features are intriguing and he wonders what your name is. For a moment, he forgets where he is and does something a little strange. He pulls your face to his and presses his lips to your forehead. That's when your eyelids flutter and you stir.

******

You sit up quickly and look around, trying to figure out where you are. You're in a car of some kind with a bunch of men you don't recognize. You try desperately to remember how you got here.

"Hey, honey. Are you alright?" When you hear his voice, you whip your head around.

"Oh." You answer breathlessly. "It's you."

He chuckles softly and his smile almost causes you to pass out again.

"It's me. I'm sorry, honey, I just didn't want to leave you there in that state."

"State?"

"Do you remember falling over the wall?" You cover your face in embarrassment.

"Oh my god..." He laughs softly again.

"Honey, it's okay. It happens."

"This has happened before?!"

"Well, not exactly..." One of the guys cuts in and you realize you're sitting on Elvis's lap with his arms around you. You fight to keep your composure.

"We're here, boss." The door opens and the guys climb out of the car until it's just you and Elvis.

"I'd like you to stay, so I can keep an eye on you. Is that okay?"

"I'm not sure it's necessary..."

"I say it is. Come on." You're not going to argue with him. He pats your bottom and you climb out of the car, followed closely by him.

On the sidewalk, you stumble a little, still woozy from passing out. He wraps his arm around your waist and steadies you.

"Do I need to carry you, honey?" The concern on his face is so endearing you almost melt into the ground.

"N-no, I think I'm okay."

"Alright. I'm gonna keep a hold of ya, though." You nod and he smiles genially. Then, the two of you make your way into the hotel surrounded by his bodyguards. At the elevator, he tries to dismiss them, and they refuse to leave him alone, but when he speaks sternly and insists that he'd like to be left alone, they listen and watch as he gets on the elevator with just you. Once the doors slide shut, he turns to you and puts both hands on your hips.

"What's your name, honey?"

"Oh! I'm y/n. I'm really sorry about this."

"Don't be." He waves his hand to dismiss your apology. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Do you remember if you hit your head on the way down?"

"I don't. I think I might've been out before I fell."

"You still might've hit your head." The elevator dings and the doors open. He keeps one arm around your waist and ushers you down the hallway to his room. You look at him in his jumpsuit and wonder where he might possibly have a key stashed. He bends down and pulls it out of his boot, standing and unlocking the door. You stumble a little walking across the threshold and he steadies you again, watching you with even more concern. Once you're in the room with the door shut behind you, he seats you next to him on the couch. You yawn and blink slowly. Somehow, you're exhausted.

"Are you sleepy?"

"Mhmm." You answer, yawning again.

"Okay. We need to keep you awake. If you hit your head, you shouldn't go to sleep."

"I don't feel like I hit my head." He reaches out and puts his hand on your cheek.

"I'm not willing to take any chances, honey." You nod slowly and notice that his eyes flick down to your lips. He clears his throat and pulls his hand back. You're a little surprised that he almost seems shy.

"You're sure I can't just lay down?"

"No, baby, you gotta stay awake." He looks down at himself and then to the bathroom. "I need to shower, though. But I hate to leave you alone."

"I really think I'm okay." He looks at skeptically as you yawn yet again.

"No. You're comin' with me. You can wear your underwear in the shower. I won't touch you. C'mon." He makes you stand up off of the couch and takes your hand, walking you to the bathroom. You want to tell him that you'd happily get in the shower with him naked, but you don't. He puts you in first, facing the back of the shower and then you hear him undress and get in behind you. You're dying to peek and see what he looks like without his jumpsuit, but he's being so kind that you can't violate his privacy like that. Still, the knowledge that Elvis Presley is naked behind you in the shower makes you a little crazy. Just when you think it can't get much more endearing, he starts humming. Your heart melts when his humming turns to quiet singing and you're dying to turn around and wrap him in your arms. He's so much more precious in person than you ever dreamed he could be.

You're lost in a reverie when the shower turns off and you feel him turn to face you. You can tell he's looking at you and you want to turn around so badly. Everything inside you is screaming at you to just turn around. But it's like you're frozen where you stand. When he kisses your shoulder, though, your head rolls to the side and you're desperate for him to touch you. He doesn't though. Instead, he whispers.

"You stay here, baby. I'll get you a towel." He gets out of the shower and hands you a towel. "There's a robe hanging on the door. I'm right outside."

You dry off and slip out of your wet undergarments, wrapping the fluffy robe around yourself. When you open the door, he's sitting on the couch with a towel around his waist. He looks up at you in the robe and swallows deeply. You sit on the edge of the bed and smile awkwardly. He returns your smile.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep."

"Yes, sir." He chuckles softly and moves back to the bathroom. You settle against the pillows and hastily break your promise to stay awake. The warmth of rest washes over you and your eyes close.

******

Elvis puts you in the shower in your underwear facing away from him. It's impossible for him not to notice your figure, though. The curve of your ass in your white panties about drives him crazy. He strips naked and turns the shower on. Through the whole shower, he tells himself not to get aroused just at your proximity. Once he's finished, he pulls the handle to make the water stop and then turns to face you. Your hair and your body are wet from the shower and he wants to touch you so badly that it almost hurts. Without thinking, he leans down and presses his lips to your shoulder. It's an indulgence he should have resisted, but something about you is intoxicating. He breathes deeply and pulls himself away to get you a towel. Once he does, he walks out into the room and sits on the couch. What is it about you that has him so out of sorts?

When you come out in the robe, it takes all of his self control to keep from ripping it off of you. But he wants more from this. He wants to know you, not just fuck you and move on.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep." You give him a salute and he chuckles, making his way back to the bathroom. After about thirty seconds, though, he has a bad feeling. He doesn't even get his pants on and walks back into the room still in his towel.

He was right. You're asleep.

He moves to the bed quickly and sits next to you, shaking you gently.

"Hey, baby, wake up." You don't stir and he starts to panic. He thinks back to how he woke you up in the car and leans in and kisses your forehead. Still, you stay asleep. He kisses your cheek and then finally, he presses his lips to yours. Finally, your eyes flutter open and he smiles. "You're back."

******

"I am. You kissed me."

"I'm sorry; I was getting desperate." He looks into your eyes and your smiles fade.

"Do it again." You whisper and he nods, pulling your face back into his. He crashes his lips into yours and the kiss moves to a fever pitch as he parts your lips with his and slips his tongue into your mouth. He puts both hands on your cheeks and you sit up on your knees, ready to crawl into his lap. Thats when he notices his erection under the towel. It's impossible to hide and he pulls away, looking down, and trying to push his cock down to make it less obvious.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry, honey."

"Don't be. It's okay." He shakes his head.

"No. It's not. I brought you up here just to keep an eye on you and now this." He's ashamed at his reaction to you. He feels your finger under his chin and you pull his face to looking into yours.

"Elvis, I've loved you for as long as I can remember. Meeting you? Knowing you? It just confirms everything I've ever believed to be true about you." He melts at your words and pulls you in close to him, kissing you deeply. But he pulls away again.

"I don't want to hurt you. I don't know if you should do... this..."

"Then maybe I can do this..." You reach your hand forward and run it down his chest to the top of the towel. Then, he inhales sharply as you move further down to where his cock is erect underneath it. You slide your hand under the towel carefully and take him in your palm. He moans softly as you begin to stroke him, moving his foreskin back and forth gently.

"God, baby, that feels so good. You don't have to-"

"Shhh. You've been taking care of me all night. Let me take care of you." His hips buck into your hand as you continue to pump him. He grunts and leans his head back as you move your hand a little faster.

"Mmm, baby..." He moans as you push his foreskin back and collect a bead of precum that's gathered there, running your thumb across his sensitive head. He leans back and lets you move the towel out of the way to free his cock and stroke it in the open. You pump him a little faster and he groans again. "It's so good, baby."

He feels your lips on his cheek as you move your hand on him and turns to kiss you. He looks into your eyes and puts his hand on your cheek, leaning in to capture your lips again. Then, he presses his forehead to yours and whispers.

"Thank you..." You smile and continue moving your hand up and down on him gently. He throws his head back and his hips buck again. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-"

A guttural groan rises from his throat as he cums, hard, and shoots his climax all over your hand. You pump him through his release and he shudders into your palm. He uses the towel to wipe your hand clean and then lays back on the bed.

You giggle a little and lay back with him. He turns and looks at you.

"I haven't been that satisfied with a handjob in years."

"I haven't given one in years." You smile. He rolls over and smothers you in kisses, forgetting for a second that you might be hurt. He pulls back and looks into your eyes, reaching down to undo the tie on your robe. His hand runs underneath it onto your stomach and down to your hip.

"Can I make you feel good too, honey?" You nod frantically and he laughs out loud. Then he stops and looks at you seriously. "Alright, just don't move around too much. I'll never forgive myself if this hurts you."

"I really think I'm fine." He sinks to the floor between your knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He spreads your legs, kissing the inside of each of your thighs gently. You moan softly as he leans forward and drags his tongue up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top.

"Oh, god, Elvis!" You whimper as he continues to move his mouth on you. He swirls his tongue over and around your clit in tantalizing circles. The sensation drives you wild and your pussy clenches around nothing as he licks you. He dips down and pushes his tongue into your slit several times before slipping one of his long fingers inside you. You whine and arch your back as he pumps his finger in and out and goes back to dragging his tongue over your clit. The pressure of your orgasm builds as he works and you know you won't last too much longer. He pulls back a little and flicks your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, teasing your orgasm out of you.

"Cum for me, baby." He whispers, pressing his whole mouth to you and moving his tongue on you hard.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" You cry out as your orgasm crashes into you, pumping through your veins like electric shockwaves. He continues working his mouth on you as you ride out your high, your hand in his hair.

When you finally come back down and stop shuddering, he pulls back, wiping his face with his hand and laying next to you on the bed.

"Wow." He chuckles and looks over at you. "No, seriously, I've never had a man...get me there."

"Really?"

"I mean, they've tried, but never successfully. It's like I was waiting for you."

"Honey, I feel like I've been waiting for you too." He rolls over and put his hand on your cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it. Something about being here with you, feels like I was meant to catch you."

"It feels like I was meant to fall." He presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You shimmy out of the robe and get under the covers with him. He holds your naked body close to his own, running his hands over you gently as you talk.

You spend the rest of the night in conversation and soft touches. He tells you stories about his life and listens attentively when you share yours. The connection between you strengthens with each passing hour and each soft caress and each sweet kiss.

When the sun peeks through the curtains of your hotel room, he pushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"I think you're okay, baby. You haven't had any other symptoms and it's probably been long enough now that you would have."

"Should I leave?"

"Not unless you want to."

"I don't."

"Then stay. We made it to the morning. We can rest now." You nod and he settles on your chest. You're both asleep within minutes, wrapped around each other.

Eventually, there's a harsh knock on the door and someone calls to him from the other side of it.

"Hey, boss, we gotta be wheels up in twenty."

"Okay." He hollers back, groaning and stretching.

"I'm sorry I kept you up all night." You whisper.

"Don't be, honey, that's the best night I've had in years." You both get up and start to get dressed. When you're fully put back together, he grabs you and pulls you into a warm embrace.

"I hate that you're leaving." You mumble into his chest.

"Come with me."

"What? No, I can't."

"Why not?" You wrack your brain for a reason, but there's nothing keeping you here. Nothing that's more important than him.

"Okay." You look up into his face, your arms still wrapped around each other.

"Really?"

"Yes. Can we swing by my apartment and let me grab a few things?"

"Baby, I'm Elvis Presley, we can do whatever we want." He leans in and kisses you softly again. "You know somethin'?"

"Hmm?"

"I know I caught you when you fell, but I think you're the one who saved me tonight." He takes your hand to lead you out of the room and into your future. "My own little angel fell right out of the sky. I'm so glad you did."

******

The End

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