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ellie-24 · 1 year

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Maybe one day

Summary: You've been Elvis Presley's personal assistant for a few months. After the truth about the Colonel comes out you're there to comfort him.

Basically the scene from the movie and it's aftermath, you can imagine Austin!Elvis or real Elvis, whatever you prefer, though it's definitely Big Daddy Elvis coded.

Word count: ~3.9 k

Warnings: cursing, medical themes, pills, syringes, addiction, the colonel

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The hours before the last performance at the International Hotel of this season were horrendous. Everybody was stressed out to the max, doing their best and working to the best of their abilities. You barely saw Elvis that day, sprinting from one place to another, carrying costumes and boxes and whatnot around and made more phone calls than you could count. You went looking for him when a stagehand required his presence for a sound test. When you finally saw him you immediately ran up to him. Despite him being your employer and only having known each other for a few months, the two of you had become good friends. In your first week of working for him he actually tried to sleep with you, but you quickly realised that this was just the way he was around women. After a long conversation with him about keeping your relationship purely professional, you were able to laugh about it. He now often asked you to spend the evenings with him when he didn't want to be alone and needed someone to just talk to. You really enjoyed his company as you often got to see the sensitive side of him and you knew that he trusted you.

Just as you wanted to open your mouth to tell him that he was needed onstage, you were interrupted by Jerry, who sounded rather upset.

He started talking about the Colonel and the international tour. You ears perked up at this. Your tried to keep up with them as they almost raced through the corridor. Maybe Jerry had figured something out. That would be great, Elvis would finally get what he has wanted for a long time you thought, a smile forming on your face. Yet, what you actually heard from him shook you to the core and made you question everything. Gone was the hope you felt a few seconds ago.

He told you that the Colonel was nothing but a swindler, an illegal immigrant with no real name or passport and debts as high as the Empire State Building. He told you that this was the reason he always found excuse after excuse to stay within the USA. You didn’t even have the time to question how he knew this or to register the full gravitas of this betrayal, because you suddenly felt a large body collapsing against yours. Your ears started to ring, everybody around you was now shouting and screaming. When you hit the floor you realized Elvis had passed out and fell against you, knocking you both down to the floor. Your ears were still ringing from the shock, or the shouting, you didn’t know, and you felt his heavy body on top of yours. Then somebody lifted him off of you and put his head into a bucket of ice water, wanting him to wake up again.

The loud ringing in your ears finally stopped after a few seconds and you pulled him out of the water, putting his head on your lap. You felt the icy cold water seep through the fabric of your pants onto your thighs but you didn’t care. "Elvis!" you nearly screamed, panic filling your voice. His eyes slowly opened and his unfocused gaze turned to you. "Elvis, oh my god, can you hear me?" you asked, wiping the wet hair from his forehead. His eyes fell shut again and he quietly whimpered. "Somebody call an ambulance!"

"Dr. Nick is already on his way!" somebody shouted. You couldn’t even make out who it was in this chaos.

"What if it’s something serious? What if he has a stroke or something!" you yelled at no one in particular. You were scared shitless and lightly slapped his deathly pale cheek, urging him to open his eyes again. "Elvis!" you called out his name over and over again.

"Doctor Nick will know what it is!" another voice shouted and you looked over to them, utter incomprehension written all over your face.

Elvis’ eyes then started to flutter and incoherently mumbled something.

He was completely out of it. Your hands, still on his soft cheeks, slowly and gently caressed the now clammy skin. "Elvis, this is Y/N. Can your hear me?"

"Y/N?" he asked, his eyes still unfocused. His hand wildly moved around, seemingly searching something. You quickly reached out for it and gasped when you felt him take it in an almost bruising grip. "I’m here." you whispered, feeling helpless.

You tried to ignore the pain as he held onto your hand like a lifeline, still stroking his cheek and looking into his eyes. They slowly focused more and more on your face and you saw a bit of color coming back to his face. And although he was slowly coming back to life you were still far from relieved. It could still be something serious. Your whole body began shake uncontrollably from the adrenaline, your hand trapped in his death grip being your only unmoving body part.

When you heard the Colonel’s voice in the distance you felt cold chills running down your spine. You weren’t able to think straight and he was the very reason Elvis was probably laying in your lap right now. Though you always had a very sketchy feeling about the Colonel, you refused to believe that there wasn’t some sort of explanation for this whole mess. He couldn’t have lied to everyone all this time and sabotaged Elvis’ career. You just didn't want it to be true, for Elvis' sake. He was already so vulnerable as it is.

"The most important thing is, that this man gets up on that stage tonight!" he yelled and you couldn’t believe your ears, convinced that you heard him wrong.

"Y/N." Elvis muttered. You ran a hand over his wide chest and gently shushed him.

"Colonel! He needs to go to the hospital. He can’t possibly perform tonight!" you shouted.

"Now, I wonder what the papers would say then! It’s bad PR! He will do his show!"

"Look at him!" you were screaming by now.

"You better shut up now stupid girl, or I’ll have you fired right now! Dr. Nick, what can you do?" he hissed, pointing his cane at you.

You sat back with a shocked look on your face and tears pricking your eyes, feeling confused, defeated and angry with yourself. You tried to talk again, shout or scream if necessary, but no sound would leave your mouth. You were completely frozen to the spot, the shock taking over completely. You had no further time to think about that when you saw Elvis looking up to you with worried eyes and whispering your name again. He wasn’t back completely, but had a rough grasp of the situation. He clutched your hand even tighter.

"Elvis, I’m sorry. It’s going to be alright." you whispered with a lump in your throat. You leaned down and kissed his forehead when Dr. Nick started injecting something with a syringe.

About an hour later you sat in his dressing room and watched him through the mirror, striding around like a caged animal. He was more or less himself again. Yet, you had a more than doubtful look on your face.

"Stop that, Y/N." he warned carefully, pointing a finger at you.

"...You don’t have to do this. If you’re not feeling up to it then that’s okay."

"Y/N it’s not okay. I’m Elvis Presley. The fans... expect something from me. I-I can't let them down. I won’t- I can’t cancel the show…. Also, I feel much better now." he argued weakly.

"Ah, yes." you nodded, not believing a word. He gave you another warning look. "And what about the 'Colonel'?" you asked with a bit of a provocative tone. You felt extremely tense, ready to snap at any given moment.

"The little shit. I don’t fucking know Y/N!" he yelled angrily. He was angry at the Colonel, or whoever he really was, and at himself. He felt betrayed and hurt and incredibly naive and stupid. He hated the way this old shit talked to you. He hated that you had seen him like this. He hated the way he was letting out his anger on you right now. Sweet you, who only wanted to help and gently held him in your arms about an hour ago. He wanted you to leave the dressing room before he said something he regretted.

"Y/N, w-will you just go and check if everything and e-everyone is ready?" he asked in a strained voice.

You hesitantly looked at him, swallowed back tears for the second time that day and nodded. Without another word you left the dressing room and he ran a hand over his face. With a scream he smashed a glass from the table against the wall.

What you witnessed later that evening would permanently burn itself into your mind. The way Elvis was practically pleading for help onstage and fired his year long manager and trusted friend in a blind, though justifiable, rage. The way he just stormed off and left a horrified audience and confused staff behind.

Fueled by Elvis' anger you made your way over to the Colonel. "Are you proud of yourself?" you asked. "You really are the worst! I hope you enjoy your retirement!" you spat and turned on your heel to follow Elvis upstairs.

You opened the door to his apartement and saw him pressing his burning face against cold glass window of his suite. He was apathetic, not even acknowledging you storming into his suite. You went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water for him and tried to ignore the open pill bottle next to the sink with some of its content strewn all over the counter. You didn’t want to know how many of them he had just swallowed. You fumbled around in the cupboards, your shaking hands nearly dropping everything.

He pressed his face even closer to the glass, his breath nearly fogging his view. Putting up his hands as well he whispered "Y/N...Have you ever wondered what it would be like to just… fly?"

"What? Did you say something?" you asked hastily, not hearing him over all the clinking and clanking you caused.

"Nothing."

You slowly approached him with a worried look on your face, not wanting to scare him. Handing him the glass you whispered "Here. Drink something."

"...What is going on down there?" he asked after downing the glass.

You took the glass from him to fetch some more. "I don’t really know, I almost immediately ran after you." you shrugged and raised your eyebrows. "A lot of confusion and dismay."

"I hope that old bastard is shitting his pants right now. I don’t want to see his fucking face ever again. Stupid fucker." he cursed, downing his second glass you had just pressed into his hands.

"I still can’t believe it. He lied to you for years and years. I refused to believe it when Jerry told us. It must have been even harder for you, he’s been part of your life for so long..."

"I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier."

"...He’s a seller. Through and through. Not only selling his merchandise but also himself. He’s good at what he does, there's no denying that. I kinda fell for that trick as well Elvis. Everybody did."

"When he shouted at you… I don’t know, but that was the last straw for me. It made me so angry. Still does."

You raised your eyebrows again. "Though he was always weird I really thought he wanted the best for your career. More importantly the best for you. But when he refused to take you to a hospital… I swear I could have slapped him across the face." you huffed.

He couldn’t hold back a small smile at the mental image. His tranquilizing pills started their effect as well, making him feel more relaxed. Yet, his face quickly transformed into a worried frown when he saw your face contort in anger. He had never seen you like this.

"It was just so ... I don't know. How he forced you to play the show. And Dr. Nick... I’m sorry I didn’t prevent it. I was stuck. I should have done more!" you ran a hand over your face.

"Sweetheart… Colonel is an intimidating man. When he wants something, he gets it." he said, putting his hands on your arms. "And I’m actually used to… this. This isn’t the first time something like this happened..."

You were shocked. You had been around for a few months now, but still rather new at all this. "...He really thinks that your body belongs to him doesn’t he. Its so dehumanizing! Like… where is the dignity in this? He’s using you... like one of his damn circus animals!" You wildly flung your arms around.

He let out a humorless laugh. "I discovered that there isn’t much dignity for superstars like me…"

You looked at him, chewing on your thumb, not knowing what to say.

In a softer voice he continued "...Sometimes I do feel like... I don’t belong to myself… Sometimes I don’t even know... who I am."

"...What do you mean?" you asked, collecting yourself.

He sat down at the piano. "See, there’s uh Elvis Presley the superstar, the entertainer. A-And then.. there’s little ol’ me…" he shrugged with another humorless laugh. "B-But everyone only cares about one of them. It’s impossible to live up to an image people have..."

"Well." you hesitantly started. "I think I’ve met both of them in our short time together... and I definitely prefer little ol’ you." you said with a smile. He just stared at you in wonder, no one has ever told him this. And although this was something he knew about you deep inside, it was nice to hear you say it out loud.

"But you have to stop seeing 'Elvis Presley' as this… thing you can’t control. Being 'Elvis Presley' is part of you."

"Sometimes I just wonder why me? Sometimes… I just don’t want to be 'Elvis Presley'... It’s too much."

You nodded sympathetically. "... I understand that. I guess. You should be able to take a break if you need it." you furrowed your brows. "But I think you are who you are for a reason… and... you are enough, if you are wondering about that. For me at least." you finished while running a hand over his back, standing next to him now.

He turned his head away from you, hiding his face. "...Why are you here anyway? I-I didn’t ask you to come up. Y-you never come around on your own."

At first you didn’t know what to say. "Elvis, I know that I work for you… but still...we’re friends aren’t we?"

He hesitantly nodded.

You smiled. "...Friends help each other. Listen to each other. Comfort each other... I... felt like you needed all these things right now."

A rather long silence followed until he whispered "I do." so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it. He slowly turned his head and pressed his face against your middle. You were a bit taken aback but slowly put your arms around him from above, shushing him. He took it as a sign that this was okay and quickly put his arms around your waist. He held you to him even more tightly when he felt you stroke his hair.

"Elvis, you made the right decision. We'll take care of everything else tomorrow.

He shivered a little and you settled into a comfortable silence.

"...I’m glad you’re here with me Y/N." he eventually whispered.

"I’m glad to be here for you." you answered truthfully.

After a while you felt his arms around you begin to loosen. When you looked down at his face you saw that his eyes fell shut again and again and he struggled to keep them open.

"Hey. You want to go to bed now? The day is catching up with you I think. It was more than exhausting. You should get some rest." The pills he took a few minutes ago surely were catching up with him as well, but you didn’t mention that.

He shook his head and tightened his grip around you again.

"...Elvis, you should rest. You can’t sleep like this. Come on." You slowly untangled yourself from him and he looked up to you with a longing in his eyes you didn’t quite understand.

"Don’t go." he said softly. You had your doubts, thinking about the purely professional relationship you two had. In reality there was no denying that there was some form of deeper affection between you and him for some time now, but you refused to act on it. Yet, after seeing that he couldn’t be alone with himself right now, you nodded.

"I won’t." You took his hand. "But you should go to bed. I can sit with you until you fall asleep, alright?"

He nodded and rubbed his eyes with a sigh.

"But first let's get you out of this jumpsuit alright?" you said as you helped him stand.

He still had his eyes closed, but raised an appreciative eyebrow.

"Don't get any funny thoughts, Presley." you joked, trying to calm your nerves.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Y/N." he slurred after he plopped down on the edge of his bed with a grunt. "Dammit my head." he mumbled and pressed his hand against his sweaty forehead. You sighed and retrieved his robe that you ironed earlier that day and a wet washcloth from the bathroom. Then you made your way back to him and started to carefully unzip his jumpsuit, revealing his hairy, wide chest and his round stomach. His eyes remained closed and his head swayed lightly back and forth as if he would fall asleep any second. You pulled his arms out as well and lowered the fabric down to his hip. You hesitated and looked at the ceiling.

"...You can look, Y/N. Nothing special to see anyway." he mumbled sleepily.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden insecurity "...It's not the honorable thing to look. Has no one ever told you that?"

He smirked. "The hero always takes a little peek, Y/N. Has no one ever told you that?" he mimicked your tone.

"So, I'm a hero now?"

"Sure thing sweetheart. You're the uh Shazam to my Captain Marvel Jr."

You laughed. "And you're a crazy man-child."

"Now hold on... who's blushing and avoiding their eyes here like a teenager? Not me, dearest Y/N." he said with a playful sigh.

You rolled your eyes and helped him wriggle out of the jumpsuit with a "Touché". Then you put his robe around him and supported his back when you saw he wasn't able to keep himself upright anymore. You quickly fluffed out his pillow with one hand and guided him backwards.

"Here you go big boy. Lay down for me." you whispered and grabbed the washcloth. Carefully, as not to startle him, you ran it over his burning cheeks and forehead, making him groan.

"Are you okay?" you asked.

He just hummed.

You raised your eyebrows and gently moved the wet cloth down his neck towards his chest and stomach, his breathing pick up under your hand. You felt your cheeks heating up again at the feeling of the soft and plush skin under your hand and tried to finish your task as quick as possible. Though it was actually rather... nice to touch him like that. When you brushed over his nipple he let out a hiss and you tried surpress the ache in your lower belly. He might not think of himself as attractive anymore but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the absolute beauty of a man in front of you. You slowly pressed your legs together, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"I'm beginning to think you enjoy this, sweetheart." he smiled, but in his eyes you saw the same self-conciousness you did when you pulled down his jumpsuit minutes ago.

Damn. "Maybe I am." you shrugged. "Who knows?"

"...Y/N, don't do that." he said, suddenly very serious.

"Do what?"

"... Just don't. Can't have that tonight."

You put a hand on his cheek, feeling the roughness of his sideburns.

"Elvis, what is it?"

He longingly looked into your eyes.

"You know, Y/N."

Of course you knew. He already made many attempts to win you over. To make you change your mind about the status of the relationship the two of you had. His constant flirting with you that he sometimes disguised as playful joking or banter. And as much as you'd like to give in you didn't want to risk your job. That's why you had to defuse the situation you were in currently as quickly as possible. It became rather risky right now.

"...Elvis, you're tired. The day was... emotionally and physically... draining for you... Y-you don't know what you're saying."

He reached up and absentmindedly played with a strand of your hair. "I do." he whispered.

You ran a and over your face with a sigh. "Elvis-" you began.

"I understand, Y/N." he interrupted and lowered his hand again. Maybe one day, he thought as he watched your eyes fill with guilt.

After a few seconds of heavy silence you stood up to bring the washcloth back to the bathroom.

"Y/N?" he asked, a bit alarmed.

"I'll be back in a second."

After splashing some cold water in your face and taking a few deep breaths in the bathroom you returned to him again. You were surprised to find him still awake, watching you intently. You hugged yourself and awkwardly stood in front of him.

He looked at you with a silent question in his eyes. You closed your eyes and tried to find the willpower to leave the suite. But you quickly realised this was a battle you just wouldn't win and sat down next to him with your back flat against the headboard. You looked straight ahead, not really knowing what to do with yourself.

He slowly turned over to his side with a grunt and looked up to you. "C-Can I-" he started the question, eyeing your thighs.

It took you a moment to understand what he wanted to do. "Yes." you eventually whispered.

He then put his head into your lap, almost the same way it had been a few hours ago. He let out a sigh of relief, grabbed one of your hands and put it onto his head, making his request unmistakably clear. You smiled and began to gently caress his hair. He slowly put his arms around you in a tight embrace and carefully nuzzled his face against your stomach.

"...I-I'm sorry about yelling at you earlier today. I-I didn't mean it... you know how I get."

"Forvigen and forgotten already, Elvis."

"Good." he mumbled and closed his eyes.

He couldn’t believe how content and safe he felt with you, the voices in his mind finally a lot more quiet. "Sometimes I feel like you’re the only one who truly cares about me." he murmured, already half asleep. It didn’t take long until you heard quiet snores from him, but even in his sleep he wouldn’t let go of you.

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#elvis presley #elvis 2022 #elvis #elvis movie #austin butler #austin butler elvis #big daddy elvis #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #ellie writes

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elvis1970s · 5 months

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Over November 28th and 29th, 1976, Elvis played two nights at San Francisco’s elegantly named Cow Palace, both nights sold out at 14 300. This is an edited soundboard of the first night, with perhaps around ten minutes of the full performance missing. The sound mix is a little different at first, favouring piano, which is fascinating in that it really highlights Tony Brown’s work at the keyboard.

James Kelton reviewed this November 28th show for the San Francisco Examiner, with a mix of admiration and a little cynicism;

“…Elvis Presley returned to the Bay Area last night for his first concert in four years - the first of two sold-out shows at the Cow Palace. Presley sauntered onstage looking disinterested while the band pounded out the thunderous theme from the movie '2001' and the auditorium lit up with flashbulbs…True to form, Elvis strapped on his guitar and opened with 'C.C. Rider' and 'I Got A Woman', just as he had at The Oakland Coliseum in 1972…Dressed all in white and carrying a few extra pounds, the heaviest of rock and roll heavies seems to have little new to show his frantically loyal audience these days…”

The reviewer noted the enthusiasm of the fans, and described Elvis as a 'money making marvel' and a 'first rate singer (when he felt like it)'. He pronounced the show, as a whole, polished and professional, although regretfully observed the lack of 'ragged energy that helped inspire a generation of rebelliousness.'

#elvis history #elvis presley #elvis in the 70s #rock history #elvis fans #elvis #elvis 1970s #live music #musicians #1970s rock #cow palace #san francisco #Youtube

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sonalinag · 3 months

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A Holographic Artificial Intelligence Version Of Elvis Presley Onstage Elvis Evolution From Layered Reality D U.K. Company Specialized In 'D Immersive Experiences'.

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peaceloveelvis · 1 year

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Brown County Arena, Green Bay, WI. April 28, 1977

A few months ago, I saw a post on Instagram about the only show Elvis performed in Green Bay at the Brown County Arena. As I was looking at photos of the arena, I realized that I had been there almost 20 years ago for a concert! Then it hit me; I was actually in the same building as Elvis! Sadly, the BCA was demolished in April 2019.

Naturally, as a Wisconsin girl, and an avid Packers fan (BCA was located across the street from Lambeau Field at the time I was there), I looked more into the history of the arena and Elvis's show (quotes below found from an article from the Green Bay Press-Gazette):

"There would be 6,532 tickets available; 800 of them for $12.50 and the rest for $15. They were expected to be gone in three hours...Tickets that went on sale at 8 a.m. were all snatched up by 9:10 a.m."

"One woman, who had waited for seven hours, sat down on the sidewalk and sobbed when she came away empty-handed. “I didn’t even do this for the Packers,” she said."

"Presley had twisted his ankle the night before. There was “no fabled pelvis,” just a “faint swivel of the hips.” For fans, however, he was still “The King.” They threw roses, teddy bears and hats at his feet, and at least a few women made it up onstage before they were quickly hustled off by security."

#elvis presley #elvis #i love you elvis #daddy elvis #elvis fandom #elvis music #elvis aaron presley #elvis history #elvis the king

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presleybutlervsp · 1 month

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March 25, 1961

Elvis Presley performed his last live show for the next eight years in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. The show raised $62,000 for the U.S.S. Arizona memorial fund. Elvis would make movies for the next eight years, with his next live performance on July 31, 1969.

Elvis flew to Honolulu, where he arrived at 12.15 p.m. with country comedian Minnie Pearl. After watching the way which Elvis was mobbed, she told him: “those women could kill you”, but Elvis assured her: ” they’re not going to hurt me”.

Later at 3.30 there was a press conference in the Carousel Room at the Hawaiian Village Hotel.

Ticket prices for Elvis’ performance ranged from $3 to $10 a seat, with 100 ringside seats reserved for people who donated $100. Elvis and Colonel Parker bought 50 of these special seats and donated them to patients from Tripler Hospital in Hawaii. Elvis’ benefit raised more than $52,000 for the memorial fund.

Elvis performed at the Bloch Arena, Honolulu, and the show raised over $62,000 toward a memorial building for the USS Arizona sailors.

Elvis and the Jordanaires onstage at Bloch Arena performing

Heartbreak Hotel

All Shook Up

A Fool Such As I

I Got A Woman

Love Me

Band Introductions

Such A Night

Reconsider Baby

I Need You Love Tonight

Thats All Right

Dont Be Cruel

One Night

Are You Lonesome Tonight ?

Its Now Or Never

Swing Down Sweet Chariot.

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#elvisaaronpresley #elvispresley #elvis #graceland #elvis history #elvishistory #tcb #elvis fans #elvis presley #elvis the pelvis #elvis concert #elvis music #elvis the king #60s elvis #Youtube

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rockandrollpicsandthings · 2 years

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Elvis Presley onstage at Russwood Park in Memphis, 1956

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thislovintime · 1 year

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Peter Tork onstage at the Speakeasy in NYC, November 25, 26 & 27, 1988. (All?) photos by Helen Pantuso.

“I never knew how New York would welcome me back after all those years. It’s a cynical place and, sadly, The Monkees gave a lot of people a chance to exercise their cynicism. New York welcomed me. I started playing again in The Village and I’m doing OK.” - Peter Tork, Countdown, April 1987

“I was standing outside The Speakeasy after the second show Saturday night waiting for my cab to come, when all of a sudden Peter came out and smiled at me!!! I was so surprised. I introduced myself and shook his hand. I asked if he had gotten my letter, and he showed me the BAG FULL of letters he had and said that mine was probably in there! Peter opened the shows with a great ‘hard‘ rock version of ‘Gettin’ In, which sounded even better than it did on the ‘Pool It!’ LP. Also from ‘Pool It!’ he performed ‘Since You Went Away,’ which was written by Michael Levine. All of his musicians are so talented — Peter really knows how to pick em! He even did two Elvis Presley tunes (better than Presley), ‘All Shook Up’ and ‘I Want You, I Need You, I Love You.’ then a Beatles song (‘Lady Madonna’). ‘Vagabond John’ was a sad song, about a friend using drugs; and ‘Peggy’ was another sad one, written by Peter about his lost love. He also did ‘Take Me Down,’ ‘Miracle,’ ‘Long Title: Do I Have To Do This All Over Again,’ ‘Higher & Higher,’ ‘Lucille,’ and ‘Milkshake.’ Peter closed the first show with ‘I’m A Believer’ and the second show with ‘Daydream Believer.’ Former Peter Tork Project sound engineer Denny Giorlando was on hand to professionally record Peter’s shows at the Speakeasy, which I thought was a very good idea. I’m eagerly looking forward to the released of a live album to remember the show by, as I’m sure all his fans are. Come back soon, Peter!” — Lucy C., fanzine article, 1988/9

Via YouTube, here is live footage from Peter's Speakeasy shows: part 1, and part 2.

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sounwise · 1 year

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The Beatles onstage presented a line of three singer-guitarists standing toward the front, with the drummer sitting behind and above them on a small platform flanked by guitar amplifiers. [...] Their haircuts had been regularized into shiny, bowl-shaped helmets that framed their faces and enlarged their heads, giving them an almost childlike silhouette. They were dressed identically, coiffed identically, and the three in front were all of equal height. Yet their uniformity of appearance was offset by an almost complete lack of uniformity in their individual styles of performance. On the right side of the stage stood John Lennon, facing the audience squarely, his feet planted widely apart, his body flexing up and down at the knees in a motion that suggested Elvis Presley idling in neutral. Half-blind as he was without the glasses he refused to wear onstage, John’s naturally petulant expression was compounded by an air of obliviousness as he sang, his head tilted back, squinting down his nose at the blur of lights and shapes that swam before his eyes. Across the stage from his songwriting partner, Paul McCartney bounced and hopped and twisted as if his movements were being controlled by an apprentice puppeteer, the neck of his violin-shaped bass guitar alternately jerking up and down or sweeping across the stage as he turned to face his bandmates. In contrast to John, Paul seemed to take in everything that was happening around him onstage, as reflected on his face by a constant flow of smiles, frowns of concentration, surprised laughter, and histrionic double-takes—one moment the picture of crooning sincerity with his head bowed and his eyes raised, the next moment actually shaking from head to toe with the excitement of the music. A more sober form of concentration could be seen on the face of George Harrison as he stood in the middle of the band, his guitar held perfectly level and worn high on his body. George onstage was a collection of small, poised gestures: now stepping forward to take a solo, now leaning over to share a microphone with Paul or John on the chorus harmonies. Behind the others sat Ringo, surrounded by his new American-made drum set, the front head of his bass drum displaying the name of the band in stark black lettering. Raising his sticks high, fanning his hi-hat cymbals with his arm drawn across his body, Ringo seemed to vie with the audience for the attention of the three guitarists in front of him, at times actually lifting out of his seat with the enthusiasm of his playing. And on his face, mixed in with the sidelong glances and knowing grins that linked the Beatles to one another onstage, could be glimpsed a look of absolute astonishment that the others, if they did nothing else, managed to suppress.

[—from Can’t Buy Me Love: The Beatles, Britain, and America, Jonathan Gould]

#i am sure this is already on here somewhere but it is simply the best description of them that ever was and i would like to no longer #have to pull it from the book each time i want to share it!!#can't buy me love: the beatles britain and america #jonathan gould #the beatles #1963 #the touring years #'elvis idling in neutral' is so good and correct im laugh always #this is it this is the beatle joy

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yourwizardofaus · 10 months

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Elvis; Photographed at the same moment from different cameras. Part 5 of 5.

When someone is the most photographed person in history, it stands to reason that they might be photographed at the very same time by two different people. Here are some instances of King Elvis caught at the same moment from two different photographers. In collecting Elvis pictures since the 1990s I’ve noticed these pictures had the same timing.

The June tour of 1977 became the last that Elvis ever gave. Here he is in Kansas City, MO, on June 18.

Elvis at his second last concert - Cincinnati, OH, on June 25, 1977.

Vernon Presley joined his son onstage a few time on the June 1977 tour. Here they are together in Cincinnati.

The last four pictures are two different moments from the last ever concert - Indianapolis, IN, on June 26.

#Elvis #Elvis Presley #1977 #1970s #70s #seventies #same moment different angles

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ellie-24 · 1 year

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That's alright Pt 2

Thank you @missmaywemeetagain for the prompt:

"Do it again. Please."

This is also for the people who asked for a part two.❤️ @richardslady121 @faithiegirl01

Part 1

Warnings: teeny, tiny bit of smut in the end.

Word count: ~ 2.7k

As always, I'm exited to see what the others came up with! 🫶🏻

@thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @from-memphis-with-love

She had imagined the whole evening very differently. But sometimes life is unpredictable. She asked herself why fate apparently decided to intervene on this very special occasion while she sat in the audience at the Hayride like she had done with her parents so many times before. But now it was something different. Something entirely different. Tonight it was her first date with a boy. A boy she'd shyly glanced at when they met in the hallway at school and awkwardly talked to when they were assigned partners in class. He's always so sweet to her, making her laugh and letting her copy from his test when they wrote one. All these things were great - he was great.

If only he hadn't made the comment about her hair being out of place when they met up before the show. If only he could talk about something other than baseball now. If only his brown eyes could pierce like the steel blue ones she's been thinking about for the last few hours. She felt horrible about herself while politely making conversation with her date, nodding and smiling at the right times. Often she found herself not being able to pay attention to what he said, her mind drifting towards those soft marshmallow lips and how they felt against hers. The only thing really keeping her from getting up was the hope that she would see him again. She remembered his voice from the radio, he was undoubtedly the one singing "That's alright, mama". The song played over and over again and everyone talked about it. Even her date informed her about this high profile newcomer who would perform here tonight, almost making her choke on her pepsi.

When he got onstage, his name was Elvis Presley she now remembered, she barely managed to surpress a squeal that was threatening to escape her. Instead she grinned like an idiot, hoping her date wouldn't notice her over the top exitement. She could tell that he was visibly nervous, his foot tapping up and down, his voice trembling when he introduced himself. The whole audience could feel it while he performed "That's alright, mama". He was so jittery, he shook his hips, tapped his feet and snapped his fingers in all at the same time in a way you'd never seen before. It looked a bit awkward and stiff at times. He even stumbled over the lyrics more than once. She looked around, seeing confused, irritated faces and bit her lip. When he left the stage again she felt the applause was more a polite gesture than actual exitement. She turned over to her date and excused herself, needing to 'powder her nose'.

She left through the main entrance and rounded the auditorium again towards the back entrance. Where she shared the wonderful kiss with the pretty and awfully nervous singer. Something invisible was pulling her there. Something she didn't quite understand herself. Maybe she hoped he would be there again and she quickly realised how pathetic she really was. Of course he wouldn't be there. What was even worse she allowed herself to go run after a boy. No girl, no lady would do such a thing an inner voice, which sounded suspiciously like her mother, scolded her. He, of course, didn't wait at the stairs like she hoped, but the door was open. She quickly snuck it without thinking and wandered around until she heard a voice where she was sure it was his.

"I know, Mister Phillips." She heard him mutter as she got closer to the dressing room in which he was standing in with another man.

"Elvis, I really mean it. You can do this, I know that you can. Don't let this set you back. You have another chance tonight, alright?"

"...I don't know what happened."

"It's them nerves. You thought about all these people in the audience and not about the music."

"You gotta be yourself, the people go crazy for it. Your dancing is unusual, but it's gold, so loosen up some more. What's the worst that could happen?"

"They'll hate me."

"Your performance a few minutes ago wasn't the best. I'm gonna be honest with you... So, it can only get better from now on. Either way. You got this Elvis." He patted his shoulder.

"...Alright, Mr. Phillips." he mumbled.

With that this Mr. Phillips turned and walked right past her and she looked back at Elvis who spotted her in that exact moment, his eyes widening.

He hastily walked towards her and grabbed her hand. "Sweetie? What are you doing here?"

She looked up to him with a surprised expression. That was a good question indeed. "Oh.. um... I'm sure I lost one of my hair pins and I... went looking for it by the stairs." she quickly lied and bravely held his imploring gaze.

"And then you just stumbled inside?" he asked with a smirk.

"...Well, maybe a certain someone stole it." she retorted with a pointed look in his direction.

He defensively raised his hands. "I didn't take nothing, sweetie. Even though I may like it when your hair looks all rude and improper-" he laughed at that. "I'm no thief."

"Well, I must have lost it somewhere else then." she shrugged.

"Why'd you fix it again?"

"Pardon?"

"Your hair, I mean." he boldly reached out and pulled at one of the curls, making it fall out of place again. "I told you to leave it like that. It looks pretty like this." She lightly slapped away his hand and he gave her a pout. Her gaze drifted towards those lush lips again and she awkwardly cleared her throat after looking back into his piercing eyes. He'd seen her eyes wander and bit his lip.

"What's your name, sweetie?" he asked with a smile.

"Why do you have to know?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips. So much for remaining strangers.

"Well, I can just continue calling you sweetie, or honey, or doll, or-"

"Alright, I think I get it." She laughed and took a breath, her face becoming serious again in an instant. "Hello, I'm Lorraine, it's nice to meet you, Mister...?" She feigned confusion and held out her hand for him to shake with an overly formal tone in her voice.

"Good evening dearest Lorraine, the pleasure is all mine. You can call me Elvis." he quipped with an equally formal tone and a playful glint in his eye. He snatched her hand to gently kiss the back of it and she quickly pulled it back again, the butterflies in her stomach threatening to return. He grabbed her hand again nontheless after closing the door to the dressing room and guided her towards the couch, where they both sat down. His arm came to rest over her shoulder without a care in the world and she wondered if he'd forgotten that she was here with another boy. She'd certainly like to forget.

"You have another show tonight?" she asked, facing him.

"Were you eavesdropping, sweetie?" he smiled and his lip curled again. Why did he have to be so charming?

"...I was just searching for my hair pin and you two talked so loud, of course I heard something."

"Of course." he chuckled. "But yeah, there's another show in an hour and I'll be there with my band. Hopefully I'll get it right this time."

"I thought you were good." she offered.

"Nah, that... uh really wasn't my best performance. I can do better. But tonight I couldn't really get into it, you know what I mean, Rainy?"

She pursed her lips at the nickname. "Um, I don't know. I've never really performed in front of others before. What happened?"

"...Well, I guess my mind was just somewhere else." he smirked at her and pulled her closer to him. Lorraine raised her eyebrows in disbelief, her cheeks feeling warm again.

"Are you always that forward?"

"Only with you, Rainy." he breathed and nuzzled his nose against her cheek. He smelled faintly like cologne and pepsi she noted absentmindedly, before shaking her head, annoyed with herself. She gave him a doubtful look. The way he said it and yes, even the honesty in his eyes, seemed very rehearsed, even for a naive thing like her. Lorraine really didn't want it to be true, but she couldn't help but feel like one of many, many girls. It would be so easy to just believe him. The way his mouth lightly brushed across her cheek, close to her own lips was very convincing and she tried to ignore the longing she felt.

"...Only with me huh? And what makes me so special?" she asked instead.

"Oh, sweetie, I could list a thousand things."

"Go on then." she challenged, smiling sweetly at him.

"Ya got the prettiest eyes I've ever seen on a girl. And the sweetest lips I've ever tasted." he started with his most charming smile and his eyes twinkling as he played with her loose curls.

Lorraine nodded. "Now you've listed two things. Got more?"

"Rainy, I'd actually like to quit the talking now." he mumbled, biting his lip and leaning in closer again.

No, she wouldn't give in that easily. She pushed against his chest, making him pout again. "Mister, did you forget I'm here with another boy?"

"I don't see him."

"Well, he's still waiting for me."

"And yet you are here." he sniggered confidently.

She got up from the couch with a huff. "Alright, then I'll just go back-" she yelped when she felt his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her down again. Right onto his lap. Lorraine had never felt that offended and exited ever before. Especially not at the same time. Elvis was so different from the boy she was here with, who didn't even offer to hold hands and bored her to no end. With Elvis there wasn't a calm second, exitement prickling under her skin in every single moment. Adrenaline rushed through her veins when he possessively tightened his grip on her waist.

"No, Rainy, you stay right here with me."

"Why should I?"

"Because I'm a lot more fun. And you know it."

"You're too sure of yourself."

"Have you kissed him yet?" he asked suddenly.

"You're also quite nosey, you know that?"

"I-I'm just asking, Rainy. And I want ya to t-tell me." he insisted, looking at her like a frustrated little boy.

Lorraine raised her chin. "A true lady doesn't kiss and tell." she countered with a smile and shrugged.

He huffed. "...I-I don't want ya to kiss another boy, sweetie."

"And why is that?"

"...Because they won't appreciate you as much as I do." he whispered with a tender look.

'Rehearsed, rehearsed, rehearsed' was the only thing going through her mind. Still, her body betrayed her and reacted with a weird tingling sensation in her lower belly. It was a rather nice feeling.

"Come here, Rainey." he said, lifting her up and shifting her so that she sat with her legs spread and resting on either side of him. Her heart was beating wildly in her ribcage, this new position allowing her to be impossibly close to him. Lorraine ran her hands over his chest, feeling the soft fabric under her fingers while his eyes wandered over her form, looking her up and down.

Then, without warning, he suddenly leaned up and captured her lips again, like earlier that day. She let out a squeal when his hot tongue immediately slipped into her mouth again and she tried to keep up with his tempo, remembering to close her eyes. And breathe, occasionally. She didn't want to end up almost choking again like when he first kissed her. Lorraine wasn't sure how, but this time it felt almost even better. Maybe it was because she knew what she was supposed to do now, maybe it was the more urgent, little noises he made.

Or maybe it was the thing he did next. The thing where he thrusted his hips up against hers, causing the tingling in her lower body to grow so strong that she couldn't help but cry out at the feeling. It was so intense and probably even more addicting than the kissing. She needed to feel it again, craving something she didn't quite understood herself. Her best friend, who's had a few dates with boys already told her about some things, but really feeling it was something entirely different.

"Oh god. Do it again. Please." she uttered, her voice trembling.

"Anything for ya." he answered, pushing up his hips again, this time with a little more force than before. Lorraine felt like she was falling and floating at the same time, desperately needing something to hold onto. She wrapped her arms around his neck, supressing the urge to run her fingers through his perfectly styled pompadour and tried to meet his now steady thrusts to get more friction. She felt something, him, growing under her and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Don't worry sweetie, we're both just a bit exited, that's okay. You don't have to be scared."

"But... isn't it wrong?"

"We're just having a bit of fun. Innocent fun, Rainy. And we don't have to do anything you don't want." he said, gently brushing over her cheek.

She knew it wasn't innocent. He also knew it. But she nodded nontheless, beginning to move her hips against his again, desperate for that funny feeling down there. She leaned down and laid her head on his strong shoulder, her breasts pressing up against his chest, making him groan. He placed his hands on her hips in response, slowly guiding her up and down on him. The tingling sensation began to spread through her entire body, it felt it was building towards... something.

All of the sudden Lorraine felt hyper sensitive, every little sound, every touch felt ten times more intense than before. Elvis began to sped up his thrusts, the rhythm becoming more irregular and she tried her best to match him. It was when he loudly moaned against her ear and his face scrunching up beautifully that the pulsing and throbbing in her lower belly and lady parts threw her over the edge. She sat up straight again, her back arching against her will, her head thrown back.

"Shit, sweetie, you're so perfect." he groaned and leaned his head against her chest. She moaned in response, her body twitching and her muscles spasming. Eventually the feeling subsided and she felt tired and exhausted. They held each other for a few more minutes, their heavy breathing the only thing filling the silence in the dressing room.

"That was really fun." she admitted and smiled down at him.

"Told ya so. You're a quick learner, Rainy." he smiled and patted her bottom, making her giggle. He pressed one long, sweet kiss against her cheek, before softly running his lips over hers again. She smiled into it, this one was all about being slow and gentle with each other. "Still taste so sweet." he hummed against your mouth. "I know you haven't kissed that stupid fella." She pulled away and smiled bashfully, deciding not to answer. He chuckled and ran his fingers over her bare arms.

Lorraine looked down and saw a wet patch over his crotch and figured it made sense in a weird way, her own knickers feeling damp from the sudden slick that had now gathered between her legs. He watched her intently and shook his head with a smile. "I definitely loosened up some." he remarked with a satisfied grunt, remembering his conversation with Mr. Philipps. "...Wanna stay for my next show? I-I really think I need you there, Rainy."

"Can I?" she asked hesitantly, her actual date now completely forgotten.

He nodded exitedly. "First row. I want to see you. I need to remember how to move my hips when I'm up there."

Lorraine laughed and slapped his chest. "But first, we gotta quickly wash your pants."

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #ellie writes #writing prompt game

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elvis1970s · 1 year

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In May 1975, Elvis performed a special concert in Jackson, Mississippi; a benefit for the victims of a tornado that had recently devastated McComb, a town around 80 miles south of the State Capital.

It was the initiative of Colonel Parker, and although the altruistic intent could not be denied, he had an ulterior motive, cleverly using the initiative of the tornado benefit concert to coax an otherwise reluctant Elvis back to work. Following late night discussions at Graceland involving Colonel Parker himself, RCA executive George Parkhill, and concert promoter Tom Hulett, direct contact was made with Mississippi Governor, Bill Waller, and plans for the show were set in motion.

This is how Tom Hulett remembered the meeting at Graceland, as related in Peter Guralnick’s definitive biography, Careless Love: The Unmaking of Elvis Presley (Little, Brown and Company, 1999);

“…I had never been this much on the inside before, and here I was all of a sudden part of a unit going to see Elvis about possibly going back to work. Elvis came downstairs in a robe looking very heavy, and we sat at the big table in the dining room in tall, high-backed chairs. There was some small talk, and then the Colonel said, ‘Elvis, you been reading about the problems down in McComb?’ And he said, ‘Yeah, it’s really terrible.’ The Colonel said, ‘You know, I think we should go down and do a benefit for those people. What do you think?’ And Elvis goes, ‘You know, I don’t know…’ Because there was this funny shit going on between them, like Elvis is saying, ‘I ain’t gonna work,’ and the Colonel is saying, ‘I ain’t gonna let you work’—and now the Colonel has finally found an outside vehicle to break the ice…Finally, Elvis said, ‘Well, I guess,’ and the Colonel said, ‘If we go down and do the benefit, we might as well add on a few dates.’ That’s when I got the connection. And Elvis goes, ‘Well, I guess so…”

The benefit concert was eventually held on May 5th 1975, towards the end of what had expanded into an 18 show southern tour, between April 24th and May 7th.

Elvis and Colonel Parker covered all their own costs, and everyone from onstage talent to road crew donated their time for the show. The State Fair Coliseum and staff were also provided at no cost. As a result of this cooperation at all levels, Elvis was able to hand a cheque for $108 860, from arena ticket sales alone, to the State Governor, prior to the show. The amount would go even higher from the sale of donated Elvis merchandise. The First Lady of Mississippi, Ava Waller, described Elvis' demeanour backstage as ‘very friendly’ and ‘surprisingly shy’.

The Delta Democrat Times wrote;

“…Elvis Presley returned to his native state for a benefit performance Monday night and received a thunderous reception from more than 10,000 fans who packed the Mississippi (State Fair) Coliseum. The 40 year old Tupelo native, a little heavier now but dazzling in a baby blue casual suit and dark blue shirt, strode onto the stage amid cheers and screams…”

A resolution of appreciation was passed in the Mississippi State Legislature, stating; “This compassionate gesture of concern is appreciated by all Mississippians”.

In order to secure the State Fair Coliseum at no cost, a deal was done that Elvis would return there for some paying dates. He performed three sold out shows over June 8th and 9th. There are apparently no surviving bootlegs of the benefit show, but the June 9th performance was recorded at the soundboard.

youtube

#elvis on stage #elvis aaron presley #elvis presley #elvis history #elvis in the 70s #elvis 1970s #rock history #philanthropy #elvis fans #mississippi #70s elvis #Youtube

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sonalinag · 3 months

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On 14th January, Aloha Hawaii Elvis Presley's Greatest/Best Live Concert Onstage In Honolulu, Hawaii, USA Is Remembered By Fans Of ELVIS PRESLEY WORLDWIDE.

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bizarre-blorbo-bracket · 5 months

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SEMIFINAL Poll 1: Bostonian Horse from puppet history vs Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men

Propaganda under the cut:

Bostonian Horse:

he died onstage (due to the great molasses flood), met god, and accepted his own death all while being the musical act of the episode (the second half of the song is a duet with god) (listen to his song at the end of the great molasses flood episode of puppet history it's SO GOOD). later we find out that he went to horse hell. he's currently in purgatory with a bunch of other puppets because of his sort-of soul. his wife frequently appears to talk about video sponsors. he is drenched in molasses for at least half of his screentime. i want to throw him into the ocean and see what happens, then put him in a salad spinner to dry him off. in conclusion: horse

Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)

a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:

He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.

Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming

Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.

His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."

I could honestly give him a lil smooch

He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied

He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki

instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched

I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile

Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)

I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.

I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction

My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.

After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that

I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop

I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded

I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet

I have visions of him

One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise

honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him

I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)

He's literally an architect

I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas

i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present

my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN

I've attempted slam poetry about him

I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand

I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that

#bostonian horse #davis #12 angry men #OPEN THE PROPAGANDA ITS WORTH IT I SWEAR

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

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Hi I love your writing ! If your still accepting requests, I would love to see an imagine where the reader gets her period while Elvis is preforming a show and she misses it trying to take care of her situation. Its kind of angsty because he thinks she just skipped but it ends with fluff and him taking care of her ! sorry I know that was super specific, doesn't have to be the same just something similar. Thanks :)

That Time Again

tw: Mentions of blood/period pain + a lil bit of angst

word count: 1094 || rating: Pg

A/N: i would kick myself if this happened to me fr 😭 but i would also give anything to have elvis/aus take care of me. this is not my best work so i am deeply sorry for that 😭

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

No, no, no. Not now, please not now.

You squirm as you silently argue with your body. You know that feeling. You could never mistake it after all these years. It's that uncomfortable sensation, as if you're peeing but can do nothing to stop the liquid from coming out. The feeling of blood dripping out of your vagina.

You squeeze your legs together, willing everything in your body to fight against your biological cycle. But as the sensation ripples through you again, you sigh deeply.

"I'll be right back. I'm afraid I'm having some lady issues," you whisper, leaning over to Gladys.

"Of course, hunny. You jus let me know if ya need anythin," she whispers back, offering you a smile.

You quietly stand, trying to draw the least amount of attention to yourself as possible. You glance up at Elvis onstage in a beautiful pink tweed jacket with black pants. A smile spreads across your face as you watch his body wiggle back and forth, eliciting screams and even some moans from the women in the audience.

You slink out of the audience and run toward the nearest women's restroom, ducking inside and immediately into a stall. You bend at the waist, pressing a hand to your stomach as you try to soothe the sharp stinging pain there You gasp out a few breaths and then pull your panties down to see a small circle of deep red blood, luckily not too dark or saturated that it can't be hidden. But it will definitely leave a stain on the fabric of the panties. You grab some toilet paper, dabbing yourself clean, and then fashion a makeshift pad to keep you covered until you can get ahold of a real one.

You take a few more deep breaths and try to straighten yourself up but the painful pinching waves that ricochet through your body make you double over again. You hear the door open and then Mrs. Presley's voice.

"Y/N, honey, are ya in here?"

"Right here, Mrs. Presley," you choke out, unlocking the door and walking out to see her. Your face must be reflecting the pain you're in because she offers you her arm and shakes her head.

"Let's get you home, dear," she says, dragging you toward the door.

"Oh Mrs. Presley, no, I have to-ughh."

"No, I know that look. Home. Now. I'll drive ya myself," she says in a tone so firmly that you know the conversation is over.

So, you climb into the car with Gladys and allow her to drive you back home to Graceland, where she helps you up the stairs and tucks you into Elvis' bed. She smooths some hair from your forehead and brings you a glass of water.

"Now, Imma be downstairs if you need anythin. From one woman to another, get some rest. I understand how painful this time of the month can be."

She offers a comforting smile, and you return it, settling into the warm sheets. She takes a few steps toward the door, but you stop her.

"Mrs. Presley," she turns. "Thank you. And would you send Elvis up when he gets back?"

"Of course, darlin."

And with that, she shuts the door. You snuggle deeper into the soft sheets and the next thing you know you're waking up to the sound of the bedroom door slamming against the wall. You jerk up and blink the sleep from your eyes to see Elvis standing by the dresser, shrugging off his outfit with his back toward you. You're already lifting the covers and getting out of bed, feeling so much better after your deep nap.

"Elvis, honey! You were amazing!" you say, and he turns at the sound of your voice.

You throw your arms around his shoulders and squeeze him tightly. He gives you a pat on the back but nothing more.

"Elvis, baby, is something wrong?"

He says nothing at first, just clenches his jaw. You gaze up into his eyes, trying to parse out his emotions.

"Where were ya, Y/N?!" Elvis suddenly shouts, and you recoil, shocked by his change in tone. "I needed ya there. This was a really, really important performance for me. The whole of America was watchin. Everybody but you, Y/N! All I wanted was to look out into the crowd after the performance and see ya sittin there with that beautiful smile on ya face, but you weren't there!"

"I...I-I'm sorry, Elvis, I-I was there! I swear I was, but then I-" you suck in a painful, shaky breath as you try not to cry. "I had to go t-to the bathroom because I s-s-started my p-period, and y-your mom insisted that she could t-take me ho-home. I-"

You feel your face immediately screw up and tears start to stream down your cheeks, one chasing directly after the other. You squeeze the words out through shaky breaths even though they're barely coherent. The tears are hard at work, forming two wet rivers down your cheeks. You try to wipe them with your fingers but only spread the wet moisture across the rest of your face. You drop your head into your hands.

"Oh baby...oh, sweet girl, I'm so sorry," he says and, in a flash, you feel his hands on your shoulders, gently walking you back to sit on the bed. "I didn't know...I didn't realize that...well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make ya feel like this, baby. I'm sorry."

You sniffle, removing your hands to look at him.

"I'm sorry, too. I don't know why I'm crying. I guess it's just..." you gesture toward your crotch.

His fingers slip under your chin and lift your eyes to meet his gaze. His thumb strokes your cheek. His expression is completely different now, softened, full of love and affection. These are the eyes of the Elvis you love, the eyes that tell you he loves you back.

"Baby girl, you can cry all you'd like cause Imma be right here to take care of ya," he says quietly and his hands slide underneath your body, carrying you bridal style toward the top of the bed.

You pull the covers back and he lays you down so incredibly gently onto the mattress. He pulls the comforter and blanket up to your chin, sitting beside you and stroking your hair. He leans forward and presses a soft, warm kiss to your forehead.

"I love you, honey," he says with a smile that you return. "You're my bestest girl, forever and always."

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

🦋 mila

#elvis #elvis 2022 #milasblurbs #milaselvisblurbs #milasthings #milaselviscontent

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