#coming out as an elvis hater

[marisatomay]

elvis (2022)

[alex31624]

Duck Comic Reading Club Week 14: Paperinik New Adventures: Trauma

Another great issue for this week. PK has been great lately. Let's get into the comic right away.

This time, the story begins with the Evronians, most precisely, with Gorthan. He's a branch-captain visiting an Evronian prison.

There is a bit of commotion, with an attempted mutiny, but the situation is rapidly handed by the Evronians in charge.

This is the only problem I have with this particular issue. The Evronians, in outer space, are a fearsome force. A race of soldiers that can overcome any obstacle. But in Earth? We'll see.

Gorthan is in the prison because he needs to meet with one particular prisoner. The one who gives his name for this issue, Trauma.

This is an amazing reveal, he's blasted right into your face. You can see how massive Trauma is compare with others of his kind.

Gorthan is there to offer Trauma a deal. It seems like Trauma was imprisoned because he was to dangerous, even for the Evronians standar.

But now, they need him.

PK has been a big trouble for the Evronians, and now they're not taking any more chances.

And now that I mention him, let's see what's PK doing.

It looks like Duckburg resident superhero is having nightmares. Poor Donald, let him sleep all night for once.

Since that's not an option anymore, PK went to patrol the city.

He's so cool.

And, then, the weirdest PK's page ever.

I swear, I thought we were on the prison planet again, because, what the hell?

We have a gang of Elvis impersonators, and also a gang of Monty Python's Life of Brian fans. Imagine the odds for this two groups to even exist. Amazing.

By the way, what's with the Elvis thing? In Darkwing Duck was also a villain whose theme was Elvis. I don't know, I guess Disney dislikes the man. I like A Little Less Conversation, but… I don't know… is weird man…

Anyway, PK beats the gangs, and the guy who was saved by him, runs away from PK. And later that rat tail SOB goes to professional hater Angus Fangus and claims PK is a criminal.

This city doesn't deserve PK.

But, let's waste no more time, is time for the fight we were promised.

Trauma has arrived and immediately makes an impact. The fear in Angus and the police's faces are palpable.

PK comes to the rescue and what we have next is the best action sequence so far in this run.

PK is throwing everything he has on Trauma, but is useless. The giant Evronian is an unstoppable force.

And the worst thing has yet to come.

Trauma launches his most powerfull atack, not to the body but to PK's mind.

The pain PK is suffering right now, you and I can feel it. You can tell, he's living an agony.

Thankfully, One takes over the Duckmovil and saves him.

But PK lost. And thanks to Angus, everybody know it. PK ran away, because he was scared.

This is so powerful.

But PK is a hero, so round two is not far away. And this time, PK has an ace up his sleeve.

HOLY COW!

PK went full Lt. Ripley in Aliens.

Some would say he went Hulkbuster but I like Aliens way more than Age of Ultron.

We were gifted with one more awesome fight, that ends with PK taking another trip to Trauma Town.

Now we know what's PK seeing in those attacks.

Turns out, 35 years old Donald is being bullied by some 40 year old dude. I know, it supposed to be in his youth years, but look at them. That flashback happened yesterday.

Trauma attack was supposed to be definitive. This was PK end.

But…

The most feared word of bullies, no. The word the weak speaks when is tired of the abuse. The word Trauma has never heard his enemies say.

Also, this is the best double page we have had so far. You could frame this and hanged on your wall.

Trauma had made a career inflicting fear in his enemies. To be confronted was new, terrible, fearful. And he couldn't take it. Trauma rans away, and PK is victorious.

That was what Trauma and the Evronians can't understand. PK is not a hero because he can't feel fear. He's a hero because, even in fear, he steps up to do what is right.

How can you not get hyped up by this?

This was amazing. The issue was packaged with action and emotion. I mention before how the Evronians are so powerful outer space, but they can't beat PK. They just can't. Not even their strongest warrior.

I don't know what's going to be next for this comic.

For now, I'm just going to enjoy it.

[headfullofpresley]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 8,7K

Summary: They say opposites attract and you and Elvis are living proof of that. Your music tastes are as far apart as can be, but since you are always front row at all his shows to be the supportive girlfriend, he finally joins you for a night out in your world. Time to get funky.

Warnings: 70s!elvis, elvis being a disco hater, strong language, alcohol consumption, inaccurate timelines when it comes to songs etc, reader and elvis fighting people in the club 👀, mention of the colonel, the media being a bunch of asses, smut; dirty talk, handjob (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving & a lil of m. receiving if you squint), anilingus (f. receiving if you squint), kissing after oral, lil bit of choking and hair pulling, facial, swallowing, unprotected sex.

A/N: the girly in the pic is white and blonde but that has nothing to do with the fic- as readers' appearance other than her outfit isn't described :). anyways, this is just one of my delusional elvis fantasies turned into a fic. enjoy, babies! 🕺🏻

masterlist | suggested playlist

You had been steadily dating Elvis Presley since 1968. The two of you met in Los Angeles at a dinner event thrown by some big name music producer and while Elvis usually didn’t like attending these things, he was glad he did four sweltering summers ago in ’68.

The two of you hit it off right away, talking about everything and nothing. As cheesy as it sounds, it was a match made in heaven.

You shared a lot of similarities with the man- sometimes you joked he was basically the male version of you and he always wholeheartedly agreed. But there was one thing the both of you simply could not agree on.

And that was music.

Disco was a part of your soul; it ran through your veins like blood. It was a way of life. Disco was you.

To Elvis, disco was something you maybe danced to a little when having too many drinks- it made him want to scratch his eyeballs out more often than he’d admit whenever you played it throughout the house or hotel rooms for most of the day, but he loved you and therefor, he was just going to have to deal with it.

You felt the same about most of his music. You didn’t exactly hate his taste nor the music he made himself, but it just.. missed something. He had a few songs here and there that you could move to, but you needed more than that- you needed beats to let loose to. Still, you were always the supporting girlfriend and there had never been a show you hadn’t been at the front row for.

Sure, discussions about music between the two of you was not a foreign concept but it usually happened whenever you had one too many of those colorful cocktails during his shows or a night out and he was high on adrenaline after performing, but it never turned nasty or whatsoever. Despite the differences, you could still acknowledge that your man was an amazing singer.

You nor Elvis were planning to let get something this silly come in between your relationship or let this become a serious problem and although you knew you could never persuade him to like the same music you did, it didn’t mean you’d give up trying.

 

Elvis didn’t mind to have you dance around the hotel suite at the International with your records playing in the background or you going out on the town with the girls after his dinner show, but he drew the line of joining you to one of those… discotheque’s.

Or so, he thought.

You and the Memphis Mafia’s ladies managed to persuade the rest of the guys to join you on one of Elvis’ nights off to a club and naturally, he wasn’t going to stay behind all alone. To be honest, he could use the rest but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until you’d come back anyways.

Elvis simply wasn’t one for nightclubs or drowning himself in alcohol to have a good time, but something told him he was going to need a few drinks if he wanted to survive the night.

“Oh, come on, EP! You gotta let loose, get down and boogie, man!” Joe grinned teasingly at him as he sat at the dining table in the hotel suite, nursing a drink. The smaller Mafia member was dressed in a pair of baby blue well-fitted trousers and an equally as blue and flower printed shirt that had more buttons left open than necessary. According to Joe himself, the best part of the outfit were the boots with heels Joan put him in- making him look taller and a little slimmer.

“Zip it, Esposito- hippie lookin’ fool,” Elvis threw at his friend in good humor, putting on a gold belt he wore on stage a few times before as well.

You were lucky your boyfriend had a somewhat more flashy sense of fashion. He always stood out in a crowd but maybe that could also be because he was Elvis Presley- nonetheless, he always dressed amazingly.

You put your thumbs at him as he spread out his arms, waiting for your approval. He wore a pair of well fitted white trousers and a pink colored printed shirt on top of it, leaving the first few buttons open to show off the tan he was still sporting from your recent Hawaiian vacation, his white blazer matching with his pants. On his feet he wore heeled boots as well, though smaller ones than Joe did, as he didn’t exactly need the extra height.

“Do I pass your test, ma’am?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow and a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, making you nod your head and stand on your toes to peck his lips.

“Definitely- looking like a true disco king,” you teased, twirling around in front of him before placing your hands on your hips. “How about me?”

His grin grew wider as if his body was on automatic pilot as his eyes drank you in completely, liking very much what he saw. You always dressed well- whether it were dresses, skirts or pants like tonight, it always made him want to rip the pieces of fabric right off your body.

The red pants you opted for tonight hugged your curves perfectly, having him resist the urge to sink his teeth in your thighs. The silver shimmering halter top that only held itself together by a string around your neck and your ribcage didn’t leave much to one’s imagination as it dipped into a loose v-neck in the front and left your back completely bare. The equally as silver heels you wore on your feet and your colorful make-up you usually wore on nights out really pulled it all together.

And all he could think about was seeing you fall apart underneath him in the sheets, hair a mess and make-up smudged.

“You,” he smirked, placing his hands on your hips to pull you up against his chest, keeping your there as his hands slipped down to your ass to shamelessly squeeze the flesh through your pants. “look fuckin’ perfect,”

You hummed playfully, kissing him before he could you, neither of you really caring about the others in the room. If it wasn’t for Joe speaking up, you could’ve eaten your boyfriend up right there and then.

“Get a room,” Joe shouted, getting up from his seat with a laugh as everyone seemed ready to leave. Elvis pulled away from the kiss and looked at his friend, giving your ass another extra squeeze for show.

“You’re standin' in it,”

Joe just laughed, not knowing what else to say to that before turning to Joan. You giggled and pecked Elvis’ lips one more time before he allowed you to step away from him and hand him a pair of sunglasses, which he put on his face. You put on a pair of your own, pink heart shaped ones, and shoved the pack of cigars he handed you in your clutch before you slipped your hand in his and walked downstairs to the cars in the garage with everyone else following behind.

 

Boney M. was blasting through the speakers the moment Elvis set foot inside the club with you. He hated how he recognized the song and the fact that he actually knew the lyrics to freaking Daddy Cool, but he wasn’t going to complain.

You already seemed in your element, tugging him through the crowd and to the VIP section that was reserved just for “Y/N and entourage”. Maybe Joe was right- he wasn’t about to get down and boogie, but perhaps he could let loose a little bit and have fun with his girlfriend and his friends.

Besides, this was a whole different crowd than the people who visited his shows or even listened to his music. Some people turned their heads and pointed him out, but they seemed more interested in you. He knew you were a well known name on this scene- you did back up vocals for musicians he barely knew, but who were obviously big names in disco music. People also knew and loved you because whenever you visited a new nightclub, it became a household name instantly.

Elvis felt like he had stepped into a completely different world and he wasn’t too far off. He was in your world now.

You were already buzzing in your shoes the second you came inside and you could barely sit still- the kind of energy that usually radiated off of Elvis was now coming from you. It was so intense that it made him a little nervous, laughing at you as you swayed in your seat while lighting a cigarette.

“You wanna dance, honey?” he asked the obvious, already knowing the answer. You looked at him with excitement in your eyes, but then raised your eyebrows in suspicion as you blew out some smoke from the corner of your mouth.

“With you?”

“Nuh-uh,” he laughed teasingly, taking the cigarette from your hand to take a drag from it. “I need at least five shots before you see me down there,” he nodded to the dancefloor outside of the VIP section and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

The Memphis Mafia had the drinks flowing before you could even ask for it and drinks were poured for you and Elvis, which you greedily downed in one go.

Unlike your man, you didn’t need the liquid courage to dance your little heart out.

“You go take those shots- I’ll see you when you’ve grown a pair,” you told him in his ear so he could hear you above the music, laughing as you kissed his cheek and abandoned your clutch in his care as you got up and ran onto the dancefloor with the girls, making Elvis laugh and shake his head a little at your antics. You were probably one of the few girls he allowed to talk to him like that.

 

With the Donna Summer’s dreamy I Feel Love blasting through the speakers and colored lights dancing from one person to another, it didn’t take you very long to get lost in the atmosphere.

The sunglasses you had been wearing were stolen by Joan who was messing around with the others. They were dancing and enjoying the music, but they weren’t as captivating as you were.

Because to you, this wasn’t a simple night out to break the dullness of your weekly routine. This is what you did nearly every day, this is what you lived for. Not only did the girls, your boyfriend and the Memphis Mafia know it, so did the people that you were a familiar face to- they loved watching you and joining you on the dancefloor to try and get equally as lost in the music as you.

Your hips were rotating to Donna’s high voice, hands up and running through your hair as your head was thrown back, eyes closed. You were brought to a completely different world, so much so that you hadn’t even noticed Jerry and Red joining you. This wasn’t their scene at all but as The Sweet Inspirations joined the party, they wanted in on the fun.

“Here comes Elvis,” Estelle shouted in your ear with a laugh, making you open your eyes and look for him in the sea of people.

Strobe lights illuminated on his face and in his hair as he made his way through the crowd, having left his white blazer behind in the VIP section with Joe. The people around him barely gave him the time of day- they were either high on the music or some kind of substance and although this was new to Elvis, he liked it.

Just for tonight, he felt like a normal person.

Just as he reached you, the song ended and shifted into How Deep Is Your Love by the Bee Gees. He pouted playfully, slipping his arms around your waist and placing a flat hand on your lower back, pushing you against his chest.

“Damnit, I wanted to watch you dance, honey,” he laughed in your ear as he leaned down to you, placing an open mouthed kiss on the curve of your neck. You giggled as you swung your arms around his neck, looking at him as you swayed to the music.

“The night is still young,” you grinned, making him sway with you. He was a little stiff, but due to the shots he indeed took back at the table, he moved along with you. “Do you got enough drinks in your system?”

“What’d you think?” he grinned as he playfully crossed his eyes, laughing along with you as he pecked your lips. You knew you could never get Elvis to perform a whole routine for everyone to see with you, but the way he was swaying you to one of your favorite songs right now was already enough for you.

And when he started singing along, gently pressing his forehead against yours as his fingertips tickled your bare back, your heart skipped a beat.

“Have you secretly been listening to the Bee Gees?” you questioned teasingly as you pressed yourself against him a little firmer, letting your fingertips play with the hair in the nape of his neck. He grinned as he leaned down to your neck again, his hands running up your back as he planted a kiss on the heated skin of your shoulder.

“No, baby, you just play it so goddamn much that it gets stuck in my head,” he chuckled, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making goosebumps crawl onto your flesh. Your excitement was slowly turning into arousal- an effect Elvis always had on you, and he knew it so damn well.

He knew that if he’d gently sink his teeth in your earlobe and flick the tip of his tongue against it that it would get you to tug on his hair a little. A mean, teasing grin spread across his face as you moaned softly in his ear, which even above the loud music, was crystal as clear to him.

Rick James’ Super Freak suddenly blasting through the speakers reminded you that you were in public and in the middle of the dancefloor. You couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel, but right now the excitement and adrenaline of the music was coming back to you- when you pulled back and grabbed his hands, he immediately widened his eyes as he realised what you were trying to do.

“Y/N- hell no,” he warned in a low rumble when you were already dancing to the beat of the music, trying to get him to move along.

You were laughing like crazy, already knowing this would freak him out- you allowed him to pull his hands back and when he pushed Jerry and Red toward you, you held your hands out to them.

Red looked at Elvis, raising an eyebrow as he shrugged and took your hand, Jerry following his example. You’d much rather see Elvis get down to Super Freak, but you took whatever you could get- the Mafia guys, who obviously had already more to drink than Elvis did, danced with you to the upbeat song. Elvis didn’t mind you getting all up close and personal with the guys because he trusted you and he was laughing his head off, making his way back to the VIP section to not look like the only fool on the dancefloor who was standing still.

 

It was like inside these four walls, you were a freaking robot. You barely came to the table for a drink- he noticed you trying to make your way over now and then, only for you to talk to someone you knew or run back because one of your favorites were being played.

You just didn’t stop dancing. Not for anything or anyone.

Even when Jerry and Red made their way back and Charlie lasted on the floor for a total of ten minutes with you, and even when all the Mafia ladies were catching their breaths, you were still going. He wasn’t worried though, since you were mostly dancing with The Sweet Inspirations who took a great liking to you- for obvious reasons.

Elvis recognized the tunes of Le Freak by CHIC and sipped from the Margerita you and Myrna had ordered for him in good humor. It was one of the few cocktails he liked and it got him tipsy pretty fast- which was your aim, because you wanted his ass back on the dancefloor.

You were about to get what you want, but not for the reason you were expecting.

Elvis could see everything and everyone clearly from where he was- he had a good laugh at the way some people danced and guys trying to shoot their shot with girls but failing. It seemed like a couple of guys had their sights set on you and the girls, dancing closer and closer to you and Cissy as you were playfully twirling her around.

He waited and sat back for a second- he knew you were perfectly fine standing up for yourself and grinned to himself as he saw you ignoring the guys completely, turning your back to them. They either couldn’t take the hint or were a bunch of asses, because they kept trying to squeeze themselves into your little dance circle.

At one point, Estelle literally told one of them to “fuck off”, and it was then that everything seemed to escalate. Just as he got up, he saw one of the guys pulling the string of your top that was neatly tied around your ribcage loose and putting his hands on your waist- you were grabbing onto your top to keep yourself decent and the fucker took this to his advantage, grabbing your hips and pulling you back into his chest roughly.

Elvis was flying out of the VIP area and onto the dancefloor so fast, the others were left behind in confusion. Sonny and Red realised he wasn’t going to dance with the way he was shoving people out of his way and storming over to you- they followed as quick as possible, but couldn’t stop Elvis from pulling the guy off of you and punching him right across the jaw. People who knew you were getting involved now as well as the guy’s friends and you quickly tied your top back together, grabbing onto Elvis’ shoulders as he was now in a screaming match with your assaulter- when the guy went in for a punch, you realised he made the biggest mistake he could.

Elvis, with great experience in karate and being faster, blocked him and landed a sharp slap on the side of his neck. This took the guy back, but as he noticed Red, Sonny and Jerry getting physical with his own friends, he decided he wasn’t done with Elvis yet. At this point, girls were getting involved as well and you let out a shriek as you were suddenly yanked back and off Elvis.

Now you weren’t an expert at fighting, but Elvis taught you a thing or two. Unlike him, you didn’t like carrying a weapon everywhere you went but he wanted you to be able to protect yourself and made you spar with him twice a week. It wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but you were glad about it now.

You avoided a slap in the face by ducking when you saw the girls' hand coming toward you and grabbed her arm, roughly pulling it behind her back. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, you pushed her into the crowd as hard as you could- the random girl didn’t seem like she had enough and came back for more, literally running toward you. You panicked for a second, stepping aside and sticking out your foot- she tripped and landed right on her face, but before you could walk away and go back to Elvis, she had pulled you down to the floor with her.

God, this bitch was crazy.

You didn’t know where anyone was, because quite literally half of the club was fighting by now, but what you did know was that you had to get this monster off of you. She seemed drunk and her movements were sloppy, a little slow even, making it easy for you to avoid her nails which she tried to scratch you in the face with. Grabbing her wrists, you pulled your leg up and kneed her in between her thighs harshly, rolling her onto the floor. You didn’t want to hurt this girl because aside from attacking you for no good reason, she didn’t do anything wrong- she was just drunk and caught up in the moment.

But as you were pinning her wrists to the floor and trying to keep her legs still by sitting on her thighs, she was screaming and writhing as hard as she could underneath you. She looked possessed with the way she was moving her head from left to right so fast her face was covered with her hair- you did the only thing you could think of to distract her and get away, landing a firm punch on her nose.

She stopped moving, grabbing onto her face as you let go of her hands and quickly got up. You yelled a quick “sorry!” but doubted she could hear it, running back to Elvis.

The guy he had punched before was nowhere to be seen, but he was in a new screaming match with two completely different guys now. Before any more fighting could take place, you got in between them and planted yourself in front of Elvis. You placed a hand on Elvis’ chest and looked at the guys, telling them to walk away and softly pushing their shoulders- your intention wasn’t to start something new entirely, but this could never go right whenever alcohol was involved.

One of the guys didn’t like the way you kept touching him and suddenly grabbed your wrist, shouting profanities in your face- at the same time, you were still trying to hold back Elvis, which was getting more difficult the angrier he got.

“Get outta here, you Presley whore,”

That’s it.

Elvis knew something like that would set you off and he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the colorful dancefloor. You thought he was going to drag you away, but when he didn’t, you took the opportunity to bend your knees and kick your heels against the guys’ chest so hard it made him fly back against the DJ booth.

“We should probably get outta here,” Elvis yelled in your ear, making you nod and take his hand as he put you back down. You grabbed Red’s arm as you were pulled past him and as he noticed you were making a run for it, he got everyone else to follow as well. Elvis snatched his blazer from the VIP section and draped it around your shoulders, using the chaotic atmosphere to his advantage as he took you out of the club.

 

“Shit! My sunglasses!” you pouted as you sat in the backseat of the car with Joan and Myrna, pouting at Elvis through the rearview mirror as he sat in the passenger’s seat, Joe’s boots in his lap because he couldn’t drive with them.

The entire car was silent as everyone looked at you until Elvis suddenly started laughing, throwing his head back as his shoulder shook with vibration and tears stung in his eyes. Everyone joined in and you couldn’t stay serious anymore too, pinking away some tears from the corner of your eyes.

“What?! I loved those sunglasses!” you hiccuped, laughing harder when Joan was gasping for air, slapping your thigh in the process.

“You broke a girl’s nose tonight- I d-don’t think you’ll g-get them back, Y/N,” Myrna wheezed, making you gasp through your laughter.

Elvis turned around in his seat, laughing even harder when he looked at you. It was partly the alcohol in his system that made him feel this way and partly the adrenaline of what just happened- despite it all, he was still having fun. Tonight he hadn’t been Elvis Presley the performer, but just Elvis.

Goofy friend, protective boyfriend and apparently, someone who did karate at a discotheque.

“Baby, you broke someone’s nose?!”

“I guess so!” you doubled over, holding onto the front seats as you giggled, looking back up at your boyfriend. “I just did what you taught me- the bitch look possessed, I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Damnit- can’t believe I had to miss that,” he joked, leaning forward to you to capture your lips in a kiss. He allowed it to turn a little heated, making everyone in the car protest as Joe managed to get you back to the International safely despite laughing so hard behind the wheel.

 

You and Elvis were still laughing as you said goodbye to everyone and were riding the elevator up to the top floor, but as soon as you got in the room and pushed him against the nearest wall while crashing your lips onto his, he knew the mood had completely turned around.

And he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about it.

Slipping his hands under the blazer and up your shoulders, he pushed the fabric off and let it land on the floor. You moaned softly in his mouth as he caressed his fingertips up and down your back and he softly but teasingly bit your lower lip when your hands traveled down the silk fabric of his shirt and down to his growing erection.

Palming him through his pants, he grunted and pushed his hips forward a little as his fingers found the strings of your top. He pulled the one around your ribs loose and didn’t waste any time as he did the same to the one around your neck, letting the skimpy shimmering fabric fall to your feet.

“You know,” you told him in between kisses, making him hum in response. “That was kinda hot- how you fought off those guys,”

You had seen Elvis do karate before when he was messing around with the guys or practicing with his teacher at the dojo, but you’d never seen him truly in action. You hadn’t had the time to get turned on by it when it happened because you were rather… occupied… yourself, but now that you thought back on it, it was just so hot.

“Oh yeah?” he laughed softly, slipping his hands over your ribcage and softly squeezing your breasts in his large hands, his thumbs caressing over your perked nipples. “You did most of it for the second half,”

“Hmm yeah, I was pretty good, wasn’t I?” you playfully wiggled your eyebrows at him, squeezing his cock through the confinements of his pants a little firmer. He groaned, chasing your lips with his own to nibble on your lower lip before sweeping his tongue across it.

“The best. We make a great team, baby,” he grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up. You let out a little shriek as he threw you on the soft king sized bed in the bedroom, blowing some hair out of your face.

Propping your elbows on the mattress, you watched your boyfriend take off his shirt and belt, dropping them to the floor. That belt was worth a shit ton of money and people would probably get a whiplash seeing how casually he treated it, but neither you or him gave a damn about it now. Kicking his shoes off, he grabbed your ankles and took your heels off one by one before crawling onto the bed, hovering on top of you.

You ran your hands through his hair as he placed sloppy open mouthed kisses on your lips and over your face, working his way down your neck and your chest- you wanted to reach down to take his pants off, but you were too late as he moved down lower, letting his tongue swirl around your nipple before taking it in his mouth and sucking on it softly. Combined with the feeling of his hand sliding down your stomach and easily flicking the button of your pants open, shoving his fingers underneath the fabric once your zipper was done, you couldn’t stay quiet and he hadn’t expected you to- you had never been a shy one.

Your eyes met his as he looked up at you with a small grin, lips still attached to your breasts as his fingers creeped in your panties and spread your slick around before rubbing your clit in a slow pace. The sight of you gasping and the sound of you letting out small whiney moans made his cock twitch in his pants and he quickly kissed and licked his way down to your lower abdomen, removing his hand out of your underwear so he could take your pants off.

Impatiently, you helped him by pulling it down your hips as fast as you could and he laughed as he pulled the fabric off your ankles, throwing it as far away from him as possible when he finally managed to get it off. Your panties followed quickly by your own doing and he decided to make himself comfortable by taking off his last pieces of clothing too, making sure he was back on the bed before you even had a chance to move.

Not that you were thinking of being anywhere else but here.

He grabbed your thighs, bending them backwards a bit more as you spread your legs for him- you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself up anymore, letting yourself fall back on the soft plushy pillows behind you when he kissed the insides of your thighs.

“Fuckin’ pretty pussy,” he mumbled to himself with a grin, your soft laugh turning into a gasped moan as he leaned in without warning and dragged his tongue through your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit. He sucked on it for only a few seconds before dipping his tongue down again and exploring every inch as if it was his first time down there.

Elvis liked to take his time with foreplay, so when he was pretty much making out with your pussy, you were definitely not complaining. Your hand found its way into his hair, nails scraping his scalp softly which made him moan right into your folds and sending vibrations right onto your clit- you moaned out his name, pushing his face firmly against your skin. With his hands still holding back your thighs, he allowed it and stopped moving as he held his tongue stuck out- you took the hint and held his head in place by grabbing a fistful of his hair, moaning as you shamelessly used his tongue the way you wanted to by twirling your hips. Most of his lower face and his nose were covered with your arousal and it only got him turned on more, thrusting his hips forward against the sheets underneath him.

Even when you let go, Elvis didn’t back away- instead, he went in more determinedly, pulling high pitched moans from you that came from your very core as he pushed two digits inside of you. With how turned on you were, it was an easy task.

“Oh my G-God, Elvis,” you groaned, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he pulled his face out from between your thighs with a gasp for air, his fingers relentless as he pumped them in and out of you. He shot you a teasing smirk, wrapping an arm around your thigh and resting his arm on your lower abdomen to stop you from trying to get away.

You didn’t want to get away, but as his fingers rubbed fast, consistent circles on your clit, you were pretty sure the floor below you could hear you screaming your boyfriend’s name. He knew you were close to climax by the way you were clawing at the sheets and his arms, inhaling sharp breaths through your teeth as you groaned.

He knew he was a bit of an ass for laughing, but he just loved how out of your mind you already looked while he was far from being done with you. He braced for the impact of your foot that you planted against his shoulder, trying to break free from his grip, and just laughed as you couldn’t get him to move a muscle. You squeezed your eyes shut, accepting your faith as you felt your orgasm about to rear its head around the corner- before it could, he pulled his fingers out of you and let go of you completely.

“Elvis!” you protested breathlessly and a little annoyed, opening your eyes. You could see him grinning but then you were met with the pillows underneath you as he grabbed your hips and flipped you around, pulling your ass back.

“God, baby- you’re so fuckin’ impatient,” he taunted, landing a harsh slap against your ass that left your thighs shaking. “What’re you in such a rush for, hmm? We got all night,”

You giggled softly at his words, swaying your hips left to right impatiently- he responded to it by grabbing onto your ass cheeks with both hands, spreading them and letting a dribble of spit fall in between them. You gasped softly at the wetness slipping over your second hole and down the inside of your thigh. Elvis grinned at the sight, leaning in to drag his tongue over it a few times before he dipped the muscle down lower, shoving the tip of it inside your pussy.

“Fuck!” you let out a little shriek, grabbing onto the nearest pillow you could find and squeezing it in your hands so hard your knuckles were turning white. Laughing at your reaction, he sunk his teeth in one of your ass cheeks and pulled away- when you looked over your shoulder, you watched him straighten up on his knees and taking hold of his cock, pumping it a few times before rubbing his tip through your folds, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit.

“So eager tonight,” he laughed as you pushed your ass back a little, trying to get him to slip into you one way or another. He squeezed your ass before moving it to your hip, letting it rest there as he looked at you with teasing eyes. “I love it,”

You hummed as you grinned at him, not able to still your hips and still trying to get him where you wanted him most- he was still being a damn tease, covering his cock with your arousal by slipping it back and forth through your folds, making you more needy with his dirty talk.

You loved him and you loved whenever he took his time with you, but you needed to be fucked.

Right now.

“Good God, Elvis- do you ever stop talking?”

 

There wasn’t any malicious intent behind your words nor did you mean them, but you did make sure to sound extra bratty.

Elvis knew this, but it did light a whole new fire inside of him and it gave you exactly what you wanted. He didn’t go slow nor did he give you time to get used to the stretch like he usually did- he let out a deep, nearly animalistic, groan as he pushed himself inside of you and thrusted into you at a quick, steady pace. He grinned as you let out a “fuck yes”, seeing your eyes roll in the back of your head as you lowered your head back on the pillows, his fingertips digging into your hips as he held onto them.

The bed was used to the weight of the both of you going at it, but the headboard banged against the wall with every single one of his thrusts. As one of his hands traveled up your spine, it felt as if he was leaving behind a trail of fire, alerting all your senses- he twirled his hand around your hair, holding it in a messy makeshift ponytail as he pulled your head back in your neck, leaning forward to force his tongue in your mouth.

His thrusts never faltered once.

You greedily welcomed the wet muscle, moaning in his mouth- before you could teasingly bite his lip, he had already broken the kiss and pressed the side of his face against yours, letting go of your hair to let his hand rest around your neck, fingertips placed at your jaw. The feeling of the very light stubble breaking through rubbing against your cheek made your muscles contrast around his cock repeatedly. His breath was hot on your skin as he grunted and moaned, his hair messily framing his face- you could cum right there and then.

“Startin’ to believe those fuckers were right,” he grinned, lapping his tongue along the shell of your ear, biting your earlobe. “You are a whore,”

Roughly letting go of your jaw and leaning back again, he grabbed onto your hips once more and slowed down his thrusts. You looked over your shoulder, batting your eyelashes at him as you moaned when he allowed you to fuck yourself onto him when he stilled his hips altogether.

“Maybe I am,”

The way you were looking at him and giving him one of your little teasing smiles, he had to hold himself back from fucking you right through the bed. Rushing a hand through his hair to get some out of his face, he tilted his head and smirked.

“Not maybe- you are, baby. My whore,”

He bit his lip, cursing softly when your walls spasmed around his cock because of his words, pushing back onto him harder and faster.

“Y-Yes, only yours, El,” you whined softly as he grabbed onto your hips and pulled out of you- you took the chance to roll around, welcoming him back in between your thighs as he once more thrusted himself inside of you.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, this time giving you the satisfaction of kissing him hungrily and making the headboard hit the wall even harder by placing his hands on either side of your head, fucking you as if it was his last day on Earth.

 

It were the little things that got you riled up when it came to Elvis. Things that might not be anything note worthy to some people, things that people might barely pay attention to when having sex with their partner.

But it was the way the cross on his necklace hung in your face and the feeling of his rings on your skin as his hand squeezed at your breast or was resting around your neck that got you moving one of your hands in between your connecting bodies to rub your clit in the same pace he was still thrusting into you.

You couldn’t look away from his face when he pulled back from the kiss to inhale a sharp breath of air, upper lip raised a little and hooded eyes boring into your soul. He looked absolutely stunning with pleasure written all over his features, some strands of hair sticking to the sides of his face and a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

You were very aware that you weren’t the first one to see Elvis in a position like this one and perhaps you wouldn’t be the last, but all that mattered was that you had him now. And you’d be damned if you’d ever let him get away and allow someone else experience this force of a man.

Elvis knew you were close and he wasn’t going to deny you this time- he watched you arch your back a little, letting you cross your ankles behind his lower back to keep him trapped in between your legs. It was hard, but he managed to postpone his own orgasm as your muscles clenched around his cock frantically, his name rolling off your tongue in a mantra.

Just like he knew you, you knew him and you could see he wasn’t able to last very long anymore. His thrusts were getting sloppy, grunts louder and raspier- you didn’t hesitate when he told you to get on your knees as he pulled out of you and he stood up on the bed, rapidly jerking himself off in front of your face as he held onto the headboard of the bed with his other hand.

The way you sat there with your hands placed on his thighs, eyes closed and tongue stuck out, made him let out a shaky laugh. You knew it was coming, but the feeling of a few spurts of cum landing on your face still startled you- Elvis moaned as he watched you move a little closer, letting his cock rest on your tongue as he came, painting the back of your tongue white.

Your eyes fluttered open to look up at him as he tapped his cock against your tongue a few times before pulling back, closing your mouth and swallowing what he fed you. It wasn’t the first time you did it, but it was a sight he could never get enough of. As you grinned and showed him your tongue for proof that you swallowed it all, he laughed softly, catching his breath.

“If I knew we’d end the night like this, I would’a joined you to your little disco parties sooner,”

He got on his knees again and let himself fall back on the mattress, pulling you along with him and onto his chest. You smiled as you crawled on top of him, running both your hands through his hair while kissing him. You shivered as he caressed his fingertips up and down your back and ass, taking his lower lip in between your teeth to tug on it playfully.

“Disco makes me horny- why do you think I go dancing so much?”

He raised his eyebrows as he looked at you, not knowing if you were serious or not. While the music didn’t get you humping everything in sight like a damn fool, it was true that losing yourself in the music made you feel… some type of way.

Maybe that was a little secret you were going to keep to yourself, because you knew Elvis would never let you hear the end of it if he’d find out you were serious.

When you started laughing, he rolled his eyes and laughed along with you, giving your ass a playful squeeze. “You little slut,”

“I prefer the term whore,”

He looked at the finger you held in front of his face and grinned, sucking it in between his lips before he got you underneath him again and attacked your face and neck with kisses.

Thank God you hadn’t had too many drinks earlier, because something told you the night was far from over.

 

The next afternoon, a knock on the door woke you out of your slumber. Sitting up in the bed, you needed a few seconds to acclimate- you heard the shower running, which explained the empty spot in the bed next to you. With clothes scathered on the floor and one of Elvis’ sunglasses sitting crookedly on your face, memories of last night replayed in your mind, bringing a smile to your face.

You didn’t have much time to reminisce about your sexual adventures with your boyfriend as the person at the door knocked again, a little louder this time. You shot up from the bed, grasping your kimono like robe from the floor and putting it on while jogging to the front door.

You were glad to not be met with any of the guys, but with an employee of the hotel instead, bringing you the room service Elvis must’ve ordered before he went to take a shower. You gave the kid a generous tip after he rolled the cart with food in the room and closed the door behind him. Realising you were still wearing Elvis’ glasses, you laughed at yourself and pushed them up in your hair- stealing a croissant from one of the plates, you grabbed the newspaper and let yourself fall back on the couch in the living area.

As you noticed the front page of the paper, you nearly choked on your croissant- quickly sitting back up, you threw the croissant on the coffee table and ran into the bathroom.

Elvis nearly jumped out of his skin as the door swung open and you came running in, immediately stopping himself from humming a Donna Summer song.

You and that damned music- it was rubbing off on him.

“Have you seen this?!” you questioned although you doubted it, plastering the newspaper against the glass of the shower door. Elvis frowned and wiped away some fog, pushing his hair back as he squinted his eyes, looking at what you were showing him.

The King of Rock ’n Roll caught in Vegas brawl with his Disco Queen

“Read it to me,” he ordered, immediately turning the shower off. You looked at the picture of you and Elvis that were taken on a different day, sighing deeply as you looked at him, a bit doubtful to read it. “C’mon, read it!”

You sighed at the impatient tone in his voice and took a step back so he had enough space to step out of the shower and wrap a towel around his waist, opening the paper on the right page.

When you read the first few words, you looked at him again. “It’s just bullshit- let’s call Joe, he’ll know how to make this disappear,”

He sighed and shook his head, grasping the paper out of your hands and spreading it open in front of him. You grabbed onto his arm as you stood next to him, reading the words for yourself even though he was reading out loud.

“Elvis Presley and his hip-shaking lady Y/N L/N were spotted at Kaleido last night along with Presley’s entourage and back-up singers The Sweet Inspirations. They started off the night in one of Kaleido’s luxury VIP sections, enjoying drinks and conversation, but Presley and L/N didn’t seem to enjoy each other’s company like they did in the early years of their relationship – could there be trouble in paradise?” Elvis read faster and faster with every sentence and you gasped at the dumb things the media was writing, taking the newspaper out of his hands.

“Presley’s girlfriend of four years had no problems with leaving her man behind with his friends as she showed off her signature dance moves to the many on-lookers. Read: men. Not even Elvis’ friends were safe from her flirtatious behavior,” you continued as you paced around the bathroom, your fingertips crumbling the paper with how tight you were holding on to it. “Those fuckers!”

Elvis took advantage of your little outburst, stealing the newspaper from you once more to continue reading. His eyes traveled across the lies that were written about you enjoying male attention and continued at the part where they were writing about the fight that took place. They even had pictures that were taken by someone in the club printed on the page.

“Listen to this,” he told you, making you stop pacing and cross your arms in front of your chest as you looked at him. “Like his music, Elvis Presley is still stuck in old times. Just like back in 1956 during an unfortunate gas station accident with.. blablabla, he was the first one to throw a punch. He laid out three guys by showing off his expertise in karate, a sport he has been practicing since early on in his career, and according to one of our sources it was all done in a flash of jealousy after he saw his girlfriend getting a little too cozy with other party-goers. The same source told us that once everyone was too busy to notice, the couple got in a fight themselves too, screaming at each other and Presley dragging L/N out of the club like a rag doll. It would come to nobody’s surprise if after last night Elvis Presley has stopped diggin’ the Dancing Queen,”

Elvis barely read the newspapers anymore but he had no idea when they started putting polls with articles, 70% of the people having voted that his relationship with you wouldn’t last for another week. And since when were newspaper journalists so damn nosy about a celebrity relationship?

He tore his eyes off the photos covering half the page- photos of the moment he grabbed you and lifted you up, photos of him pulling you out of the club. To an unknowing eye, it did indeed seem a little like you and him were the ones arguing with each other. He knew everyone in his and your close circle knew better though, but this could damage both his and your reputation.

“What do we do now?” you questioned, letting out a deep sigh, letting your head fall against his chest as you stood in front of him. He kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you.

“Let’s call Joe,”

 

For the rest of the day Joe and The Colonel worked hard to keep today’s newspaper out of everyone’s hands, talking on the phone to God knows who- they were doing anything to get this story to disappear, which was reassuring, but you knew people have seen it already.

The Colonel, who usually went by the motto of “bad publicity is publicity too”, even made a visit to the Vegas Sun office himself to set things straight. Some bullshit story was one thing, but he wasn’t about to let the public think Elvis laid a finger on you, a woman.

He also suggested that you and Elvis go out on the town again tonight and see a Tom Jones show at the Flamingo, so the public could see you were still together and in a healthy, happy relationship.

So, after Elvis’ midnight show, you were sitting in a booth in the showroom of the Flamingo Hotel with Elvis, Joe and Charlie. Elvis usually sent photographers away after they took a couple of shots but this time, he let them linger around.

“My cheeks are about to burst,” you whispered to him as you kept smiling brightly, not wanting to let the camera’s catch you looking “grumpy” or “uninterested” as the media would twist it into.

Elvis laughed as he sat close to you, one hand wrapped around his glas on the table and his other arm resting around your shoulders. He leaned in to you and kissed your cheek, moving down lower to talk in your ear.

“That’s what you get for draggin’ me to your silly little disco parties,”

You nearly rolled your eyes at his teasing, but stopped yourself just in time when a camera flashed in your face. “Oh shush, you loved it,”

“I loved the afterparty more,” he hummed in your ear, flicking his tongue against your earlobe before kissing your neck, making you giggle. Caressing your nails over his thigh, he moaned softly in your ear as his hand found its way in your hair, hoping you were about to feel him up under the table when he felt your hand creeping higher and higher.

Though, before your hand was where he wanted it most in this moment, you tapped his thigh teasingly and placed your hand innocently on his knee.

“You’re gonna have to wait a few more hours then,” you grinned, removing your hand altogether to raise your glass from the table and bring it to your lips, watching Tom Jones sing his heart out while engaging with the audience.

Elvis squinted his eyes at you, grinning from ear to ear. “You little minx- you’re gon’ get it once we get back,”

You didn’t look at him but laughed, swaying to the music a little. He put his chin on your shoulder, kissing your cheek and then signed for Joe to send the photographers away. Both you and Elvis visibly relaxed a bit more and you turned your head, pressing a kiss on his temple.

“Can’t wait, babe. Maybe we should make a video, let ‘em know we’re extra in love,”

He knew you were joking, but now that you suggested it, it was all he could think about. Obviously it would be for his own personal collection only.

He knew it would take a bit of convincing, but luckily for him, he could be very persuasive.

taglist: @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @woundmetender @returntoelvis @prayerstopresley @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @wonka-gifs @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @septembersghost @ccab @angelborn-1998

[just-another-boring-bisexual]

I Saw Priscilla so You Don't Have To: A Review

Before I begin, I should say a few things.

First, there will definitely be spoilers for Priscilla (2023). I'll try not to give too much away, but instead, do so in a way to add context. Second, I am not a Priscilla hater, but I'm not a stan, either. I can acknowledge that neither Elvis nor Priscilla were perfect, and that both made mistakes regarding their relationship. Finally, this is my opinion. I may reference other works, including Elvis (2022), but do not intend to tear one down in order to build up another. You are free to disagree with anything I say, all I ask is that you do so respectfully and don't spread hate.

That being said, let's get into the review!

The first thing I should note is that even if you didn't know who the director was, you'd still be able to tell it was a Sofia Coppola picture. Much like with Baz Luhrmann's Elvis (2022), there's a strong emphasis on the visual aesthetic of this world. Through Sofia's lens, the realm of Graceland feels more grounded and feminine. It honestly ticks all the boxes of a Sofia Coppola film, including regularly utilized elements such as:

The female protagonist/feminine perspective

A coming of age

Visual montage

Prominent soundtrack

The ups and downs of relationships

While the story arc revolves around Priscilla maturing into adulthood, the pacing felt a bit unbalanced for me. For the first half of the film, she's a teenager, and the following decade is briskly told through the last hour. The script tends to focus on the more intimate moments between her and Elvis, so several several major events happen in just a few shots (ex. the wedding, Lisa Marie's birth, Priscilla and Mike Stone, etc.) I get that not everything from Priscilla's book would be present in the film, but I feel like a greater balance could have been exercised.

Next, I should talk about the casting. I feel like Cailee Spaeny did a fine job as Priscilla. Even though she's the main character, I don't feel like I have much else to say about her beyond the fact that she's able to convey Priscilla's growth over the decade and a half span.

Now let's talk about Jacob Elordi.

While he's definitely a different Elvis from Austin Butler's interpretation, I didn't hate Elordi as much as I initially though I would. Since most of the scenes follow Elvis and Priscilla's day-to-day life as a couple, there are far fewer demands of Elordi's character than there are of Butler's. Despite the few flare-ups, his character feels very understated throughout the entire movie. One thing I should note is his constant mumbling; if you have auditory processing issues like me, you're definitely going to miss a few of his lines.

There's definitely been some controversy over how Elvis would be portrayed in this film, and I feel that, in that sense, the movie's going to play out a bit like Barbie, where what you anticipate from it is what you're going to get. For those going in believing the film will expose Elvis as an abusive p*do, then that's what they're going to take from it (even though they show several scenes where Elvis decides not to have sex with Priscilla before their marriage). For the people who have read Priscilla's book and are familiar with the story, it will feel a lot like her book. The main thing is that context is key. Since I'm already very familiar with the story and events, I found myself filling in the blanks in some places. I can only wonder how those going into this with no frame of reference will interpret the final result, especially since the movie ends so ambiguously (After telling Elvis that she wants a divorce, the final scene shows Priscilla saying goodbye to the women she was closest with at Graceland and driving through the gates while Dolly Parton's "I Will Always Love You" plays).

There are a few scenes that depict the darker side of Elvis, but the film was honestly tamer than I expected. Some of the scenes included are the pillow fight, him threatening to send her back to her parents, and the disagreement over his songs. While he loses his temper each time, he immediately apologizes after. The bible study scene shows a devastated Priscilla rush off to the bedroom, but dosen't show anything beyond that. The climax includes the infamous "r*pe" scene, but the action never goes beyond kissing. Overall, the content felt very tame considering the film's R rating (they honestly could have cut one of the two uses of "fuck" and slid with a PG-13 rating). I feel that this tameness is to allow the film to be more palatable to a general audience that may only have a base level of knowledge about Priscilla and Elvis. Elvis' use of baby-talk is heavily toned down, and the dialogue really pulls its weight when trying to provide context and add references.

There are a few things from the book that either I was expecting to be included, or had hoped would be present. While not pleasant, I was expecting "Kurt" to be present in some capacity (they most likely wouldn't show anything onscreen, but enough to get the point across). I talked about the bible scene already, but I expected them to go all the way (assuming the R rating wouldn't have been as tame as it was). I was hoping the interaction between Priscilla and Jerry would have been present, but this did not happen. In fact, all of the Memphis Mafia members almost feel like a faceless mass, like none of them have distinctive identities (I did enjoy the instances of them horsing around and being dumbasses together). The Circle G Ranch is never mentioned, which I found odd, considering in her book, Priscilla talked a lot about their experiences on the ranch after the marriage, and how she enjoyed it so much (I would have at least enjoyed the lasagna scene). The main thing that bothered me was the under-utilization of Dodger (or whoever that generic southern grandma was, because she sure wasn't Dodger). While Priscilla also develops bonds with Patsy, Alberta, and the other wives (if Joanie and Sandy hadn't been named, I wouldn't have realized they were even in this movie), More could've been done with Dodger. In the book, Dodger plays a bigger role in Priscilla's time at Graceland, acting as a grandmother figure and providing context about Elvis. Overall, I would have liked to have seen Priscilla develop closer bonds to the women of Graceland, but there's only so much that can be explored in a limited amount of time.

I will note a few things I did enjoy. Like I said earlier, the visual aesthetic is strong, but one thing I particularly enjoyed were the home movie scenes. The frame was squared, the edges were fuzzy, and it really gave that intimate feel of discovering some lost home movies. I also enjoyed some little details present (Elvis' reading glasses make an appearance!), but these moments feel few and far between.

Overall, I feel like one's own frame of reference and attitudes towards the subjects will heavily influence how one views this movie. Everyone will have something different to say about it, and that's perfectly fine.

[055u4ry]

Hi. I’m Amelia.

I’m 34 and female, residing in the US.

Politically center-left for the most part, but extremely left on some issues.

I’m bisexual with a preference for men, even though I don’t approve of most men. I consider myself a gender critical feminist, though I’m far from perfect when it comes to praxis.

I have diagnosed bipolar disorder type 2, cyclothymia. I’m medicated. I miss my mania but don’t miss the depression that comes with it.

I’m a poet by trade and I have a masters degree in English Language and Literature with a certificate in Asian and Asian-American Studies. My thesis was a poetry collection inspired by the Japanese poetic tradition. If this interests you check out my poetry blog:

Fair warning, I’m pessimistic and cynical and generally do not like people much. Class-A hater. I also have wildly unpopular opinions which doesn’t help my cause but I will air them just the same. 🤷‍♀️

Tags to explore on this blog: #nature #architecture #gothic #art #hurhur #relatable

If you’re feeling brave try #feminism or #politics

[vintagepresley]

I probably won’t answer any asks regarding Priscilla or the film. To protect my own peace because I’m not engaging in drama or debating with anyone. It’s exhausting. It kinda ruins the vibe here when people do so. I get the recent reviews and the recent behavior of Sofia (who has completely flipped from her VF interview) has angered people and everyone wants to flip out and go crazy and spread more hate. But what’s that’s gonna do? Nothing. The movie is coming out either way. Whether we like it or not. No one is forcing anyone to see it either.

At the end of the day, no matter what Sofia says or does in her movie, no matter what Elvis haters say.. We all know why he did some of the things he did. He didn’t do them with malice or dark intentions in his heart. We know the kind of person he was and yes he was flawed and maybe did things we don’t all agree with but he always tried to be a good person. Maybe focus on that and the person we know he strived to be and don’t let the negativity affect some of you so much or let it ruin this fandom and the community on tumblr. It’s really not worth it over some film that will probably be forgotten after a month or so.

He always had and always will have people who don’t like him. That really hasn’t changed and when Elvis (2022) came out it brought the haters out and new ones at full force. That too eventually died down. It’s not like Sofia is sharing new information we all don’t already know or that the haters don’t already know.

But yeah, that’s all I have to say. If you don’t agree with me. I don’t care. Feel free to unfollow.

[greatsaladavenue]

Replies to anons

I’ve heard Imagine ofcourse but I do like more solo stuff post Beatles by Paul and John then by George. Sorry Mom.

 Been a Beatle fan longer than I haven’t, my Mother is the Beatle fan, her favorite has always been George, and really super-stans him.

 She has seen Paul in concert but I have never heard a Paul post- Beatle song before 2022! Or John – aside of Imagine and, Live and let die and them christmas songs.

 Solo: George-”All things must pass album + When we was fab, All those years ago , Got my mind set on you.

Paul – McCartney, Ram + Tug of war, This one, Little lamb Dragonfly, , However Absurd, No More lonely nights.  John –Plastic ono band + Dream9 ,Working class hero, I know, I know, Mind games, Beautiful boy.

  Ringo – Photograph, Back off boogaloo, Midnight Vienna.

 My favorite is John because even before I knew anything about the Beatles or who wrote or sang what I liked John led songs. I still do. Don’t think he’s better that the others. In my world they where better together and neither was really better than the sum. I know what he did, I know he is bad and all that. Guess what I don’t really care.

 I have a type in looks and john fit there. My Dad and brothers are the musicians in our family but Dad and is more a Elvis fan, (he + a brother died some many years ago but see it's Paul in me talking of them ) my brothers likes them too but they are more hard rock/metal fans. (in music I have the 70-80's metal genre ! the favourite band I Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin. GEORGE usually gets my vote post-Beatle look as favorite looking Beatle, old man is RINGO!

 I grew up in the late 80/90’s when rock music started to really to go down and rap took over. "Harry Potter" was huge, It was nice to be part of something like that but then Rowling happend... I even had a short boy band period. Eminem was the biggest artist on the planet. I like 80’s and 90’s rap too. I pretty much like older music and a big fan of 80’s pop music too, Prince, Michael Jackson. I really love music and not just the Beatles along with some other artists and bands has more song that I like or has grown on me with time. I guess it’s true that older music was better.

I sort of feel a bit lonely with my Beatles  nobody around me IRL cares or think they’re overrated. I can agree that sometimes the beatles fandom can be a bit too much with the ”The Beatles did eveything first” and hate other acts who also was very important for music. Ofcourse it matters that the Beatles was white, ”sic” as most of the fanbase.  I have so many favorites and I love that I do.

McLennon is what really got me into the fandom. I’m straight myself but I’d never like want to fuck a 80 + year old man but I would be a Beatle groupie back in the days and don’t care which one I would do all of them. However I don’t really care what and if something happend between them I just see what i see, I hear what I hear. J+P are not straight

 I’m a mclennon thruther they where in love with each other! They where gay for each other. I don’t push Mclennon on anybody but here on Tumblr I do. I don’t think I believe eveything I read here is true, I also think many trolling this fandom and some seem to make fun it and comes off as a bit offensive to them as IRL queers. I can understand why Paul’s not coming out. I wouldn’t either in this or as part of the older fandom.

However I’m all for RPF, Yaoi, Yuri and femme the hell out of them. They do have that humour. Also they did all of it themselves, Iol, meaning if they didn't act this way we wouldn't be here. And I don't mean it as famous people they get a queer card.

I’m happy to continue reading your fics and fortcoming posts here. I really am!  I’ll probably keep my existence here as a re-blogger  because Beatles fans aren’t always nice about "us nutcases here" ( but it's better here than on other forums) and too many trolls end up here on tumblr mclennon. all the Beatles have haters and super-stans. Both is just as bad in my opinion. I love them so much, all four of them so much I don’t really have a favorite in Beatles, JOHN still gets my vote I'm a John -girl but they are still so connected. I do like more John-Beatle-songs than by the others tho and was super gorgeous.  

McLennon is my secret sin. I can’t unsee it or explain in any other way. There's a hole missing in the Beatles history as much as in their lives (J+P but also George how he was "left out" tho Paul and him knew each other before. Wouldn't Paul be saying more insane stuff about him too?) things would fill the blanks with McLennon! How can people not see that is my biggest issue. But far too many still today would say like if you got kids, has a wife, has sex with girls, you can't be gay. Yes, they both married women. but Well.. It's mind-blowing. They were so into each other.

My favorites Beatle songs and solo also keep changing all the time:

But The Beatles: Albums: From With the Beatles. Rubber soul and the White album.

 A day in life is a masterpiece.

I also end up listing Happiness is a warm gun, Something, Here, there eveywhere, Across the universe, Help, I will, All my loving, And your bird can sing, Tomorrow never knows etc!

McLennon: Again!

I absolutly believe it was was real. They where in love. The end goodbye. Sex yes they had sex in many ways. But whatever, when how they did it or talked about it or kissed? I'm sure some of the answers is in fan fiction lol. Reality is worse than fiction. Lol. But sometimes  I don’t think they never thought it was a big deal, like it was part of a song to Paul or whatever, and John’s did something to do with glasses. Like that's not me, this is me look at me. No i don’t know but quite often I just think it’s exactly what they are saying and didn’t label it. Other times I think they knew perfectly well what they did and they made own words so only they would know. Now we have Paul's sane but !? version for 40 + years vs John's bat shit craze -like 6+ years. of course it gonna shape our version of them and what happend between them.

 I do think whatever happend in the end John left and walked out of it how, when, why again is another story. I honestly don’t think he ever was secure of anything in his life and Yoko didn't help. I can't or more like don't want to believe eveything that is written about her tho. But the way she looks at him in the beginning she did love him then and there. She has at least made good things too for the fandom, made hits herself, worked for peace and less guns etc.

Paul more like gave up. I don’t blame or think India caused it but it deffo did not help! But neither did think of themselves at least at that point that they would try to claim anyhing of course Paul wanted a family and John knew that. I don't really see how they could have "solved" in any other way. At that time.

I have more thoughts about it. Here's when my mind keep changing. Whos missed who the most? who's more depressed? Woah don't forget it also WAS and IS tough to leave friends and bandmates behind, please do include that. Not everthing is gay either! But I’m pretty sure more than we know knew about it or at least thought the same thing.

They where ALSO friends, brothers,close,bandmates and shared this magic connection with George and Ringo. Sometimes I believe they got jealous of each other’s closeness, especially post beatles and they did tried to re-create this with other people too and this is perhaps the most telling, besides quotes, interviews,pictures, videos and songs. Yeah many songs are about that and each other.

 I don’t push away the idea of other ships happening in the band or other male lovers but if it was only them, to either of them it may have add to some of the confusion. So I don’t hold that against it. Actually I don’t really care much about their lives or families outside of the Beatles. Lol. Neither of them.

My favorite Beatle girl is Cynthia. I just think she’s beautiful. And the only girl who didn’t marry a Beatle-Beatle. I don’t really think John would have stayed that long if he didn’t at some point love her. Or any of the other he "kept around but left behind".

[cantsayidont]

Hateration holleration:

PRISCILLA: Sofia Coppola feature adaptation of Priscilla Presley's memoir is what a British magazine I used to read would have called "a real spot-the-point exercise." It's attractively composed, but totally lacking in story, characterization, themes, or thesis. The real Priscilla executive-produced, which may be why the film has so little to say about her marrying Elvis at 17 (other than to politely observe her parents' seemingly impotent disapproval), their drug use, or either of them as people. However, that doesn't explain the blank-faced performances of Cailee Spaeny and Jacob Elordi, who seem to be in the film solely to have something on which to hang the various vintage outfits. I have no strong feelings about Elvis Presley one way or the other, but Elordi's sleepy caricature has precisely none of the sexual charisma that made the real Elvis a star. Just read a book — even the most fawning Elvis bio will have more substance than this empty film.

THE THREE MUSKETEERS PART I: D'ARTAGNAN: Given how many times the venerable Dumas classic has been filmed over the years, you'd think someone would at least occasionally do a proper job of it, but this grimy and disagreeable new French version certainly isn't it. The rolled-in-mud mise-en-scène should come with a complimentary package of Wet-Naps; the casting is lifeless and frequently inappropriate (Vincent Cassel is a somnambulistic and elderly Athos, while Éric Ruf is the dullest screen Richelieu in conscious memory); and there's a grievous lack of humor, charm, or sophistication. Worse, screenwriters Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de La Patellière thought they could improve on the original Dumas plot and were sorely, sorely mistaken. The biggest problem with the book, as regards film and TV adaptations, is that there's simply too much going on even for four hours of screen time; while omitting sections of the original plot is perhaps inevitable, trying to pad it out with non-Dumas nonsense does no one any favors. This dreary and tiresome film is nearly as wrongheaded as the stupid 2011 Paul W.S. Anderson version and is no fun at all — a deadly sin when it comes to THE THREE MUSKETEERS — with few virtues beyond the frustratingly brief glimpses of Eva Green, suitably fetching as Milady de Winter (who presumably will be more prominently featured in Part II). Stick with the 1973–1974 Richard Lester movies, which also take liberties with the plot, but are actually fun, and exceptionally well-cast if inevitably very English. Even the decaffeinated 1948 American version (with Gene Kelly as D'Artagnan) is better than the new one.

[septembersghost]

How do you deal with all the hate directed towards Elvis? He wasn’t a saint but some people are so intense for their hatred for him online that it kinda takes the run out of being a fan :/

hi anon! okay, so the first thing i'm going to do is link you to my love tam's @headfullofpresley reply to this question because she recently answered it very well and more succinctly than what i'm about to write.

i am not on the clock app, which is where i gather a lot of this is coming from? but i know the breakdown of that hate comes in three basic forms - 1. COMPLETELY false and easily disprovable accusations of racism that have somehow spread over the internet for years. (there are countless sources to dispel this, this touches on a mere few.) this has somehow entwined itself with the idea that he "stole" music, which is categorically untrue, and while absolutely there is a factor there regarding the fact that he could succeed differently due to being a handsome white man in a still segregated and tumultuous time, his music and his melding of gospel and r&b was never malicious, it was inspired by absolute love. he also actively supported charities, including black and jewish organizations. his generosity and kindness wasn't limited or biased at all. 2. people victimizing priscilla as if she isn't allowed to speak for herself and tell her own story, one in which she has never claimed that and i don't personally believe anyone else has the right to decide that for someone. (which @bcofl0ve has addressed well here and here). 3. really upsetting and damaging ableism that has persisted in many ways since his death, where people make certain insinuations and judgments about his health and choices with disdain rather than any understanding. this is a problem in that it tends to demonize addiction and weight and other issues rather than approaching that sympathetically.

moreover, i do believe it's a real problem with current social media that we expect sainthood from anyone. demanding unimpeachable behavior and strict nearly puritanical morality from anyone is never going to be attainable. the legendary music, the various iconography and images aside, at the core of it all, he was a person. people have faults and flaws, they make mistakes, everyone is affected by whatever trauma and grief and struggles they may face, and the pressures of that intense, and quite unprecedented when elvis' star rose, level of fame are unimaginable. was he perfect? absolutely not. but being perfect isn't the same as being good. and when you delve into his life and his beliefs, his feelings about other people and reaching out to them, his connection to his music (be it rock and roll, gospel, or anything in between), the way he searched often for meaning, how he had that desire to extend kindnesses to others and to make others happy...there's so much, and the accounts from those who knew and loved him paint a picture of someone who certainly was fallible, but was undoubtedly good. and i think that's an important distinction to make - perfection simply isn't real. human beings are never one thing - we're fragile and resilient and angry and loving and impulsive and kind, and that's never one facet at a time, it's all at once. if you can only look at someone from a judgmental, "this is problematic!," point of view, you're frankly NEVER going to be able to interact compassionately or genuinely. if you look at someone and define them by their mistakes and condemn that without nuance (and you know what i mean by this, obviously we are not speaking of unforgivable actions here), you're never going to be able to embrace the full person, but it also limits understanding and compassion for anyone. i just feel it's vital to look at the entire tapestry of who someone is, and the full measure of their light and heart.

and then i'm just going to reiterate what tam said - haters (of anything) are miserable and tend to be misinformed and thrive on that mean-spiritedness, and that's so antithetical to how i interact with things i love that i don't have time for it and don't think it deserves energy. if something makes you happy, please don't let outside noise steal that! we know and can easily explore what was inherent to his heart and soul. we can hear the beauty and innovation and joy in his music. if that's providing you a sense of comfort and happiness and fun, that's what matters most. if someone doesn't get it, that's their problem. you are always allowed to love things. 💗💗💗

[aliengoth3]

In response to your Priscilla film resentment, you seem to be one of the many fans who wants to shield the more negative aspects of Elvis' life and who he was from the world or larger public so he can't receive any hate or warranted backlash for his actions and that's just unrealistic. Everything being depicted in this movie has all been done and said before. It's just a different generation grappling with it and with access to social media and therefore access to copious amounts of other peoples opinions and it apparently freaks you guys out and makes ya'll paranoid. Here's the thing, you can't control or alter other people's views. And I feel like Elvis is more loved than he is hated and that it's always been that way and will always be that way. So let go.

You do realise I haven't posted anything about the movie in weeks, yes? So why are you coming here and ruining my damn peaceful feed?

One thing is trying to shield him for the bad things he has done, one thing is not liking how it's always Priscilla's story that gets told, how it's always the same lies, how it's always him that is depicted as the bad guy and a groomer and a pedophile despite him not being any of that. That's what pisses me off, not the negative things he did, I'm fully aware he wasn't perfect. I'm tired of haters using Priscilla's book and narrative to hate on a man who's been dead from 1977 and can't defend himself because his ex wife was bitter and wrote a book full of lies, a book that almost makes him look like a rapist on one particular scene and that she had to point out it wasn't rape. If you write it in a way that depicts rape and then you have to point out in various occasions that you didn't mean it like that but you do nothing to fix that, I'm gonna be pretty pissed if a movie gets made using that book as the sole truth. A movie that's going to treat Priscilla as a perfect little victim, that in no way shows her trying to impress him (which she did, he didn't even like the big hair, it was all her doing) and that doesn't show her cheating on him, or dating a man who was sexually attracted to her teenage daughter, or getting her little daughter into Scientology. So yeah, that movie pisses me off because it's cherrypicking a person's life for the sake of creating scandal.

[slaapkat]

IT IS TIME... FOR THE FOURTH ANNUAL COMIX OF THE YEAR!

admittedly, this year i've been SLACKIN', but finally getting the job of my dreams will do that to a person. I've still managed to read a fair bit! this year was huge regardless, from a fantastic trip to MEMPHIS where amidst the glitz and glamor of all things Elvis and roll&roll I finally managed to find the much-coveted Green Arrow (1988) #90 (well, much coveted to me), to an INCREDIBLE trip to LONDON to meet with my best pal @ufonaut for the SECOND time this year and bought so many comic books I genuinely struggled to pack it back with me and was this close to having to check a bag. seriously, so many comic books.

that being said, still an amazing year for comics! so let's hit it!

Justice Society of America (2022)

-Part of the reason I think this year went by so fast is because most of it was spent eagerly awaiting the next issue of the long anticipated JSA revival, headed once again by Geoff Johns. One of the few series that so far has been hit after hit, culminating this year with issue #8 with the official introduction of Ruby Sokov and a peak at the slow unraveling of Alan Scott's past. Perhaps the best part of the series so far are the nods to actual Golden Age history, one of which inspired another placement on this list after its discovery. While retcons are continuous point for many fans, including myself, I feel Geoff manages to weave together old and new canon together with such passion it can't help but feel natural.

2. Stargirl: The Lost Children (2022)

-I'll admit, this one was a surprise hit. Ordinarily, I hate it when a writer breaks into the scene with a ton of random OC's in the effort to make his mark, and I even mentioned last year that the characters introduced at the end of The New Golden Age (2022) #1 had me apprehensive at first. However, seeing them all in action instantly changed my mind. Stargirl and Red Arrow made for a surprisingly organic team, and all of the newly introduced sidekicks alongside the actual forgotten Golden Age ones once again help the whole thing feel natural, breathing new life into the once stagnant mini-universe of the Justice Society. My only disappointment, maybe, was that robo-Hourman wasn't actually evil. Oh well!

3. Universal Monsters: Dracula (2023)

-Sleeper hit of the century. I had no idea James Tynion IV was coming out with a Dracula adaption until I came across the cover of #1 by accident while ambling through my comic book store and was instantly so struck that I bought it without even reading it first. It might have helped that I was in the middle of listening to the podcast adaption of Dracula Daily (Re: Dracula) and so I had the good ol count on the brain. The comic itself is a relatively loose adaptation, but Tynion's writing combined with the phenomenal art ends up depicting the story with a fantastic dramatical and dreamlike (and as a consequence, inevitably nightmarish) quality. As I reach the end of listening to Re: Dracula myself, I'm excited to see what Tynion does with it.

4. Jay Garrick: The Flash (2023)

-Jeremy Adams wasn't winning any favors with me at first, what with the way it felt the quality of his Green Lantern run had taken a steep nosedive in recent issues, but I'm a firm believer in reading anything at least once so that if I'm gonna be a hater, I'm at least going to have a reason why. Color me surprised when his Flash story ended up so far ahead the other two Golden Age minis that it simply no longer compares. Judy was a fast (no pun intended) favorite from the moment I saw her Who's Who entry in The New Golden Age, and further still in The Lost Children. The story weaves itself naturally between the past and present and truly make Judy Garrick feel as though she's been here all along. It's also wonderful to be able to see Jay's wife, Joan, back in the spotlight!

5. Green Lantern: Earth One (2018)

-After seeing the hc trade staring me right in the face on the shelves of my comic book store for AGES I was finally goaded into reading it and boy I'm kicking myself for not having read it earlier. Beautiful art, beautiful writing, fantastic characterization. As much as I like alt universes they can be hit or miss, but this one was absolutely a hit. Dared to try something new with the medium while still keeping true to the source material. Also, Hal should have kept that beard.

6. Flashpoint (2011)

-Another story I can't believe I put off for as long as I did, for as much publicity and praise it's had. At the time I was still wary of anything Geoff John's wrote outside of his JSA or GL and also didn't care much for the Flash as a character generally. However, inspired by how much I liked Flashpoint Beyond and curiosity piqued by The Flash movie, I gave it a shot and found myself MUCH more entertained than I thought I'd be. Finally reading this story brought a lot of context to Thomas' character development throughout his arcs in Batman (2016), Infinite Frontier (2021), and Justice League Incarnate (2021), as well as how this arc finally completed in Flashpoint Beyond (2022).

7. Silverblade (1987)

-Somehow, 1987-88 was truly the magic year for comics. I've lost count of how many weirdly incredible and advanced titles came out of that specific year alone. A weird story in and of itself, it's hard to describe what exactly the appeal of it was unless you just Get It yourself. An old, washed-up Hollywood actor with nothing but a starry- eyed manservant for company who suddenly gains the ability to physically transform into any role he's ever played, including a swashbuckling visage of his younger self? Viewed through the right lens, it's captivating.

8. Green Lantern: War of the Green Lanterns (2011)

-Now, I've read all of Geoff's Green Lantern already years ago and I couldn't tell you what compelled me to read any part of it again, but I did and now I'm deeply tempted to give it a go all over again. This entry specifically entails the War of the Green Lanterns arc, itself told intermittently between Green Lantern (2005) and Green Lantern Corps (2006). I don't know, something about it was so much more refreshing to read compared to many recent story arcs of today. Maybe it was the way it was essentially self-contained between these two books, maybe it was the way it felt like it had actual substance, a beginning and middle and end, with real identifiable character arcs for all involved. I might be biased in that case, because it's subsequently one of my favorite pieces of Sinestro characterization, but Hal and even Guy, John, and Kyle have some shining moments in it, too.

9. Diamond Jack in Slam-Bang Comics (1940)

-Who is Diamond Jack, exactly? Well, to the unassuming reader he might have just been a random one-off mention of a name that Geoff dropped in Justice Society of America #2 with no real consequence to the overall plot of the story. Most people might have missed it entirely. Not us! Not only is Diamond Jack real, he's absolutely batshit insane. Hailing from an obscure Fawcett publication and lasting a mere meager six issues, he can best be described as peak Golden Age antics. Absurd but in a truly delightful way, it makes you wonder just how someone like Geoff Johns stumbled upon it. He turns into a vampire! He fights a sky demon! He has a magic ring he got from a guy named Warlock the Wizard! What's not to love! My only hope is that Geoff brings him back in more than name only and we get to see what exactly has him spatting with the Golden Age Zatara.

[livgr3]

Viewing Response: The Umbrellas of Cherbourg / Les Parapluies de Cherbourg

Sorry to the haters but I looove this film and I was so excited to watch it again! It's of course so visually beautiful and narratively tragic, but I realized more this time around just how meaningful and intentional Demy's stunning visuals are to story and the character's journeys. Duggan's analysis of Umbrellas as a fairy tale that warps into a melodrama was quite an astute way of reading the film and is reflected in all it's formal elements, from its fading color palette to its fluctuating dramatic music. However, I found that Duggan's analysis of gender to fall short, particularly overlooking the patriarchal constraints placed on working class women.

In "Fairy Tale and Melodrama," Duggan writes:

"The Umbrellas starts off as a fairy tale whose movement toward wish fulfillment is blocked by war, social pressures, and the heroine’s own weakness, and the film quickly moves into the melodramatic narrative about loss, impotence, and disillusion" (40).

I agree with Duggan's description of the way Demy defies the Fairy Tale's narrative expectations by emasculating his "heroic" male characters. However, the author repeatedly refers to Genevieve as "weak" or incompetent in her inability to truly wait for Guy, and implies that she was easily seduced by Roland's wealth. I think that such an analysis does not take into account the women's financial struggles, the implications of Genevieve's pregnancy and the broader societal pressures upon Genevieve and her mother Emery as two working-class women trying to merely get by on their own.

The constraints of gender are especially prominent in the film's Part Two. As Duggan does rightfully note, Genevieve begins to fade out of her pastel colors and wears red like her mother, "which symbolizes, as is clear in its use in the brothel scene, the loss of innocence" (31). Feeling ill from her pregnancy and grieving the departure of Guy, Genevieve is detached and despondent. Her mother, by contrast, is frantic and desperate to remedy their situation, though her approach does come off as overbearing. I still don't think her overbearing nature makes her quite the antagonistic figure that Duggan implies, as her desperation to have Genevieve married only harkens the two larger truths that 1) Genevieve will receive great shame for pregnancy out of wedlock and 2) it is ultimately unlikely for two working-class unmarried women to make significant financial strides on their own, let alone raise a child on top of the burden of their struggling shop.

Genevieve's despondent melancholy creates larger questions around the implications of "waiting for a prince to come." Her sadness in this section of Umbrella's really really reminded me of Sofia Coppola's most recent film Priscilla, in which the glamorous superstar of Elvis Presley is so simply subverted by the mere boredom and loneliness experienced by the wife of the most famous man in the world. Though I'm not sure if Coppola was directly influenced by Demy's film, I still find that both films display the restrictive sense of "waiting" expected of women which, in this comparison, even extends beyond class. As women are practically associated to the home by default while men are expected in public spaces, the home becomes the space of women's waiting. Even the beautifully kitschy home attached to Madame Emery's umbrella shoppe or the ornate halls of Graceland begin to feel lonely and inescapable. As tragic as it became, I don't think it is any critical flaw of Genevieve's that this endless waiting grew to sicken her.

I don't think this analysis is too much of a stretch from Demy's original intentions of the film, given his general message that the happy, idyllic endings of fairy tales simply cannot and do not work in the modern world. Jacques' actions are understood as sort of obligatory given his circumstances: he simply has to enlist in the military, and in the end, marrying Madeline seems like the most obvious solution to his tremendous solution to his guilt and lonesomeness. Thus I don't think it should be read as an incompetence that Genevieve and her mother simply abide by their unpleasant expectations as women in a patriarchal environment.

[mooodyblue]

I know you said you didn’t think Elvis was portrayed that badly in Priscilla like you expected, but then what do you make of the comments from the haters who are like “I hope he’s rotting in h*ll.” Do you think these people were just determined to hate him no matter what? I feel like for the first hour of the movie he’s not portrayed too bad but the last 50 mins or so it kept hitting us over the head with scenes of Elvis being an asshole and sometimes apologizing.

because this entire movie is just her book. it's literally no different than what you've read in her book (apart from a few things—i.e her not mentioning her cheating on him) if people really gave a shit abt priscilla, none of this would be surprising or new to people.

no matter what comes out about this man, people are going to be wishing the worst on him despite him being dead. it sucks! i know! but as elvis fans, it's something we have to live with no matter what bc people don't want to listen to pick up a book that isn't elvis and me.

he could have been portrayed much worse. people have said worse. there's worse documentaries out there. we all need to accept the fact that people are going to be awful towards elvis and learn to just scroll past and move on 🥸

[headfullofpresley]

I honestly think this movie is Priscilla’s revenge. Why insist he’s the love of your life but then endorse a movie that is opening him up to so much hatred and criticism. So many people online are trashing not just Elvis but Baz and Austin as well because of this movie. I really can’t stand her.

i was saying something similar to @notstefaniepresley today - like, why is she doing this? does she want some kind of "revenge" for whatever reason? i literally cannot wrap my head around it. i just hate that the random ass people and elvis hater are going to believe everything that comes out of her mouth while it is known that her narrative is untrue. i saw some random idiot use a total bullshit book as an example that "elvis is a pedo". like they're just so dumb.

it's so extremely UNFAIR. because he's not here to defend himself.

and it's honestly scary how someone can be so obsessed with their deceased ex husband. weird af.

[burnthheparaphilia]

Ugh. This dumb article has been making its way through the Elvis tags. Where do people come up with this stuff? It's already been established that Williamson's full of crap.

https://www.popdust.com/amp/elvis-presley-was-a-predator-2647006678

No fucking way man 💀 it's like the haters don't have nothing to do with their fkn life.

I hate when people start to spread this type of shit man like even priscilla say that elvis never touch her when she was Young and she always said that he was always respectful with her. And i read that shit that says that elvis raped her as a punishment (?????????) I think I never read the most stupid thing in my life.

I can't belive the shit that Comes out of the mouth of this man.

If there is something that characterized Elvis was the respect he had for his wife Priscilla and that he never got angry with her or never saw himself in a threatening behavior or that he will show fear in front of her And it makes me very stupid to say that Elvis raped her when we literally all know that he NEVER did that.

That Williamson is a bastard little shit that doesn't now what to say to take down elvis To the point of making ridiculous and false news.

[lizzygrantarchives]

Billboard, October 22, 2015

After reinventing herself as a cryptic Hollywood femme fatale, the 30-year-old singer has fought off the haters to become a proper, if unusual, pop star. In a rare interview, she opens up about coping with anxiety, her new-age mentors and how she almost played Sharon Tate on the big screen: “I could have become an American nightmare.”

LANA DEL REY AND I WERE FIRST introduced at an Architectural Digest pimped manse off Pacific Coast Highway during a party thrown, weirdly enough, for Werner Herzog and his bud, the physicist Lawrence Krauss. (Del Rey, 30, has spoken before of her interest in science and philosophy.) On that night, she wore an unformfitting Polo shirt dress with a personal-old-fave vibe. In deglamorized “Stars Without Makeup” mode, she was unpretentious and softly gregarious, like a doe-eyed, underdressed newcomer to the Town. I was at the same table, and she caught me staring off at the horizon. Del Rey was sardonically attuned, nudging her boyfriend, the Italian photographer-director Francesco Carrozzinni, to have a look at the cliché: Old Brooding Man. Her warmth took me out of myself.

Lana Del Rey’s fourth album, Honeymoon, debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard 200 in September, but when I asked if she planned to go on the road to promote it, she shook her head. “I do everything backwards. It already happened — I’m actually done with the world tour I started four years ago, when I needed to be out there. I really needed to be out there singing.”

That exodus was partly born of the need to heal following a 2012 appearance on Saturday Night Live that elicited a slaughter-of-the-lamb storm of derision over the then up-and-coming star’s seemingly zoned-out amateurism. She was tarred as a poseur — part Edie Sedgwick, part Valley of the Dolls, a Never Will Be Ready for Primetime Player — but it turned out that Del Rey was only at the end of Act One in an all-American A Star Is Born passion play of celebrity crucifixion and resurrection.

Born Lizzy Grant in Lake Placid, N.Y., Del Rey moved to Manhattan at 18. “For seven years I wrote sexy songs about love,” she says. “That was the most joyous time of my life.” The screen that so many gossipy personas have been projected onto (rich preppy, suicidal anti-feminist, morbid dilettante) has instead transformed into a nearly religious dashboard icon of ghostly seduction. She’s a global phenomenon, part of the national conversation and cultural soundscape. Nielsen Music puts her total U.S. album sales at 2.5 million, and her videos have been viewed hundreds of millions of times. Del Rey is now a few years into her return from the desert, having arrived on a mystery train of Santa Ana winds, existential dread and “soft ice cream” (to quote her song “Salvatore”) that is uniquely her own.

I meet her for the interview at a John Lautner house she rents in Los Angeles. Lautner was a seminal Southern California architect, and Del Rey says her choice of lodging was deliberate. She production-designs her life. She greets me in the drive — inquisitive, friendly and aware. For a moment, she looks like Elvis and Priscilla, all in one. The hair is old-school Clairol dark, the eyes siren green, the auburn ’do the most done thing about her.

“You’d love my dad,” she says. She was just on the phone with him; her parents are visiting. He’s a realtor, and Mom’s an English teacher whose passion is reading history books. Del Rey lives here with her younger sister, Caroline Grant, a photographer who goes by Chuck. (Del Rey tells me that her sister was so shocked by the force of the fans’ emotions during concerts that she doesn’t take pictures of them anymore.)

“My dad’s that guy with perfect Hawaiian shirts and matching shorts,” says Del Rey. “The other day he said, ‘We should see about getting you a vintage Rolls.’ I said, ‘Um, it’s a little attention-grabbing.’ And he said, ‘Uh, yeah.’ ”

What do you do with yourself now that you have nothing on your schedule?

I go for long walks, long drives. I’ll get in the car and drive the streets, feeling for places. I go to Big Sur. I love Big Sur, but it has gotten so touristy. I went to the General Store, and there were hordes. On a Monday! But I’m drawn there. Sometimes I go to write. I’ve been thinking it might be time to do a longer video, a 40-minute video. I was watching The Sandpiper, and I was working on something kind of based on that.

Have you thought of writing something for yourself? Shooting down the paparazzi helicopter in the video for “High by the Beach” was your idea, no?

Yeah, it was. I’d like to write a book one day. But you need a beginning, a middle and an end! I can deal with four minutes — but I’m not so sure about a book.

Your song “God Knows I Tried” fits somewhere between The Beach Boys’ “God Only Knows” and Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.” I’m thinking of Cohen because of that line “Even though it all went wrong.”

I love Leonard — because he’s all about women. Women and God.

Does it all go wrong?

It’s hard for me sometimes to think about going on when I know we’re going to die. Something happened in the last three years, with my panic…

I had read that you were prone to that.

It got worse. But I’ve always been prone to it. I remember being — I was, I think, 4 years old — and I’d just seen a show on TV where the person was killed. And I turned to my parents and said, “Are we all going to die?” They said “Yes,” and I was totally distraught! I broke down in tears and said, “We have to move!”

How do you cope?

I saw a therapist — three times. But I’m really most comfortable sitting in that chair in the studio, writing or singing.

The panic won’t last forever.

I don’t think so, but … sometimes you just want to be able to enjoy the view. I think I’m really like my mother, in the sense that I make small lists. To calm myself down. I reward myself. You know, “If I finish this, then I’ll do that” — I’ll go for a walk on the beach or swim in the ocean. I go for swims and am actually shocked I do that. Because one thing I’m terrified of is sharks.

Do you think having a child would chill you out? Do you want to have kids?

I’ve thought about it. Really thought about it lately because I’ve just turned 30. I’d love having daughters. But I don’t think it’d be a good idea to have kids with someone who wasn’t … on the same page.

Someone who…

Who isn’t exactly — like me! (Laughs.) Though maybe it’s best to have kids with someone who’s … normal.

When was the last time you got trashed by a love affair?

The last one — before the boyfriend I’m with now — was pretty bad. It wasn’t good to be in it, but it wasn’t good to be out of it, either. He was like a twin. Not a facsimile twin, but a real twin.

So maybe finding the same person doesn’t work. Are relationships hard for you?

For someone like me — and it’s not a codependent thing — I just like having someone there. I’ve been alone, and that’s fine. But I like to come home and have someone there. You know, to say, “Oh, he’s here. And this other thing (Mimes a table.) is there. And this (Mimes setting down an object on the table.) is there. (Laughs.) I’m very methodical. I have to be. I’m like that in the studio too. Mixing and mastering can take four more months after we’re done — three to mix and one to master. I like having a plan. Though I do leave spaces for ad-libbing in the studio when I write.

Do you mind if I write all this? Because I don’t want to piss off Francesco.

Oh, he’s going to read this! But he’ll have things to say anyway. He’s very … aggressive. (Smiles.) And besides, I didn’t say he wasn’t just like me.

There’s something weirdly shamanistic about your work. You channel Los Angeles in ways I haven’t seen from anyone, at least not in a long while. Places now extinct, streets and feelings that you have no right to be able to evoke because of your age. And it’s so unlikely that you’re the one to be the oracle that way. But it’s for real.

I know. I know that. I love that word, “shamanistic.” I read energy; I always have. One of the books I love — aside from [Kenneth Anger’s] Hollywood Babylon — is The Autobiography of a Yogi. And Wayne Dyer … I was so upset when he died! [Dyer, part Buddhist, part New Thought motivational speaker, was best-known for his book Your Erroneous Zones. He died in August.] He gave me so much over the last 15 years. I went to see a clairvoyant. She asked me to write down four things on a card before I came in, things I might be thinking about, and she nailed all four. I asked about the man I was seeing — that one, before the one now. She said, “I don’t really like to go there, but … I just don’t see him present.” I went, “Ugh.” She’s seeing the future and doesn’t see him present. Oh, no!

Are you aware of your effect on men?

I’ve only recently become aware of the heterosexual males who are into my music. I remember when I was 16, I had a boyfriend. I think he was… 25? I thought that was the best thing. He had an F-150 pickup and let me drive it one time. I was so high up! I panicked and was worried I might kill someone — run over a nun or something. I started to shake. I was screaming and crying. I saw him looking over, and he was smiling. He said, “I love that you’re out of control.” He saw how vulnerable I was, how afraid, and he loved that. The balance shifted from there. I had the upper hand — until then.

Do you want to be in the movies?

Well… I’m open to it all. James Franco asked me to be in three films that were going to be directed by a Spanish director, and I was hesitant. I think he heard my hesitance and got scared. Someone wanted me to be Sharon Tate. I thought, “That’s so right.” At that time, there were three Manson movies being talked about, but none were ever made. So maybe that was the answer.

Have you ever been the “voice of reason” for a friend in crisis?

I have — I can be. It’s easier to do that sometimes … for someone who’s half-checked out.

Meaning you.

Yes. (Pauses.) You know, I was living in Hancock Park once and thought about a movie idea. I was renting this house whose high walls had been grandfathered in, so of course I kept making them taller and taller. And I had an idea about writing something about a woman living there, a singer losing her mind. She has this Nest-like security system installed, cameras everywhere. The only people she saw were people who work on the grounds: construction people and gardeners. One day she hears the gardener humming this song she wrote. She panics and thinks, “Oh, my God. Was I humming that out loud or just to myself? And if it was aloud, wasn’t it at 4 in the morning? Did that mean he was outside my window?” Then a storm comes, one of those L.A. storms, and the power goes out except to the cameras, which are on a different source. And the pool has been empty for months because of the drought. And she goes outside in the middle of the night because she hears something — and trips over the gardener’s hoe and falls into the empty pool and dies facedown like William Holden at the end of Sunset Boulevard.

For me, one of the most interesting things about you and your story — and of course your work — is that you broke through. That it has turned out well.

I think about it, and I’m so grateful. I am aware that it could easily not have happened. That I could have become … an American nightmare. I see her — Lana — I listen to her and watch her, and I’m … protective.

Let’s end with Big Sur. Do you think your interest is by way of your kinship with the Beats? Your enthrallment with Kerouac?

Big Sur challenges me to surrender. What draws me is … the curves. I’m really drawn to the curves.

Originally published on billboard.com, and in the October 31, 2015 issue of Billboard with the headline An Inconvenient Woman.