#elvis presley enterprises

[redlettermediathings]

[stephstars08]

Falling Apart

Austin!Elvis Presley x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mention of Drugs being taken, Drugs, Mention of Drinking Alcohol, Divorce, Depressed Elvis, Yelling/Fighting, Elvis having a meltdown on stage, Colonel trying to manipulate Reader, Mention of Elvis collapsing, Fluff at the end, and Maybe some Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot any!!!)

Summary: Due the Colonel making Elvis take a bunch of drugs to keep him energized to perform, it’s making Elvis completely fall apart. It get’s even worse when Pricilla packs all of her stuff up and leaves Elvis taking their daughter with her. After Elvis’s dad’s assistant Y/N hears the news she does everything she can to help Elvis pull himself back together.

Word Count: 2,162

Author’s Note: FINALLY MY FIRST ELVIS MOVIE STORY IS HERE! I’ve been waiting for basically a year to finally get a plot for a story for one of my favorite movies of all time! This isn’t just my first Austin/Elvis story but this is also my first story of the new year so I hope you all enjoy! If any of you want to you can read this as Elvis x Reader or Austin!Elvis x Reader! It’s up to you!!

Y/N Y/L/N is the assistant to Vernon Presley who is of course the father of the one and only Elvis Presley. Vernon is in charge of Presley Enterprises. Vernon hired Y/N to be his assistant when Elvis came home from the army. Due to all of the films Elvis was staring in at the time it was getting too hard for Vernon to take care of everything by himself so that’s why he hired Y/N.

When Y/N got the job, she wasn’t expecting to be around Elvis so much. Of course, Y/N isn’t complaining since Elvis has brought her in with open arms and so did his wife Priscilla. Elvis has thanked Y/N so much for helping his father out.

Y/N would be lying if she said that she has never had a crush on the heartthrob. When Elvis first started out Y/N immediately grew a crush on him, but that crush did fade away after she graduated from high school and when Elvis went overseas to be in the army. But as time went on that crush returned and the more, she was around Elvis, the more the crush grew. Y/N wished she didn’t feel that way about Elvis since he’s married to Priscilla, and she is really good friends with Priscilla as well. But those thoughts just flood her mind whenever she is with him.

Y/N loved everything about her job except having to work with the Colonel who is the manager of Elvis. Ever since the first day she met the Colonel she knew he wasn’t very fond of her. She hated being around him since she always feels uncomfortable around him, and she always gets bad vibes from him.

But Y/N didn’t see the Colonel’s dark side till Elvis started to play a residency in Las Vegas.

********************

Y/N was at her apartment getting ready to meet Vernon at a business meeting. Right before she walked out the door, she heard her phone ring. When she answered the phone, she heard Vernon’s voice.

“Hi, I was just about to walk out the door to meet you.” Y/N said into the phone. “Priscilla left Elvis this morning.” She heard Vernon tell her which made her heart drop. “Oh my gosh.” Y/N said in a shocked tone. Even though she’s shocked by the news she knew the reason why Priscilla left. “She moved all of her stuff out and she took Lisa with her.” She heard Vernon tell her. She could hear the sadness in his voice. “How is Elvis?” Y/N asked in the phone. That was the only question that was coming to her mind. “He’s a complete mess.” She heard him tell her which broke her heart.

“Can you go to Graceland and just stay there with him till I come back from the meeting?” Vernon asked her. “I just really don’t want him to be alone right now.” He added. “Of course, I can.” Y/N answered into the phone.

“Thank you so much dear.” She heard him say. “I’ll talk to you soon.” He added which made her smile a little. “You’re welcome. I’ll talk to you soon.” She told him through the phone. After they said their goodbyes Y/N hung up the phone.

********************

Y/N parked her car in front of the big Graceland mansion. She turned the car off and grabbed her purse from the passenger seat. She got out of the car closing the driver's seat door. As Y/N made her way to the front door she wrapped the strap of her purse around her shoulder.

When she got to the door, she rang the doorbell and waited but no one answered so she rang the doorbell again but still no answer. Y/N put her hand on the doorknob and twisted it which made the door open. Y/N walked inside the mansion. “Elvis!” Y/N called out as she closed the door. She looked around and noticed that things that belonged to Priscilla were gone. Y/N let out a sigh she she walked into the dining room and put her keys and purse down onto the table.

“Elvis!” Y/N called out again as she walked over to the bottom of the staircase and again, she got no response. She knew Elvis had to be home because where else would he go. Y/N walked up the staircase and right when she got to the top, she heard whimpering. Y/N walked down the hallway and stopped in front of the door to what was the bedroom Elvis once shared with Priscilla. That was where the whimpering was coming from. She was going to knock on the door, but something was telling her to just walk in.

When she opened the door, she saw a bunch of medicine bottles on the floor. Y/N walked in and at first, she didn’t see Elvis till she walked past the king-sized bed. Elvis was sitting on the floor crying into his knees that were hiding his face. It broke Y/N’s heart seeing Elvis in this kind of state. “Elvis.” Y/N said in a soft voice. Elvis looked up at her with his eyes filled with tears and his cheeks soaked with tears running down them. “What are you doing?” Elvis asked her. She could hear how broken he was in his voice. “Your father wanted me to be here with you till he comes back from his business meeting.” Y/N told him. Elvis didn’t say anything back. He just looked away from her.

Y/N sat down next to him. “I’m so sorry about what happened.” Y/N told him with sincere in her voice. “Why are you saying sorry to me?” Elvis asked still not looking at her. “What do you mean?” Y/N asked him. “I’m the reason why she left. She said I’m like a zombie.” Elvis told her as tears continued to stream down his face like a waterfall. “Those pills are what turn you like that.” Y/N told him which made him finally look back at her.

She can’t just keep jumping around it anymore. When he’s on those pills it’s like he’s a completely different person. Those pills are making him fall apart.

“The pills. They just keep controlling me. It’s like they have taken over me.” Elvis told her as he started to cry harder if that was even possible. “I know.” Y/N started. “That’s why I’m here. I’m going to help you get through this.” Y/N told him looking him straight into his eyes. Elvis believed her as he stared back into her eyes. “Okay.” Elvis said in a soft voice.

“I’m going to go downstairs into the kitchen to get you some water.” Y/N told him but before she could stand up, he grabbed her hand. “Please, don’t leave me. Please stay with me.” Elvis said to her in a pleading tone. “Okay! Okay, I’ll stay here with you.” Y/N told him in reassurance. Y/N wrapped her arm around him and rubbed her hand up and down his arm as he cried.

They stayed like that till Vernon came home.

********************

As a lot of time pasted Y/N kept her promise to Elvis. She’s been looking after him as much as she could. Even though Y/N has been doing her best to take care of Elvis, he’s still not the man he once was.

The only time Elvis looks happy is when he is on stage in front of his fans. The only people that knew what he was going through were the people he sees every day.

Elvis was playing another show in Vegas. Y/N watching him perform from the side of the stage with Jerry by her side. “You’ve been very quiet this evening.” Jerry said to her which earned him a glare from her. “You know damn well why I’ve been quiet.” Y/N told him in a stern tone. “The Colonel came before I could call you and right away, he made Dr. Nick shoot him up with drugs.” Jerry explained to her. “I’m not mad at you, okay!” Y/N told him with a heavy sigh. “He should be in a hospital bed but instead that monster decided to make the decision to shoot him up with the same drugs that is what made him collapse in the first place.” Y/N said with anger in her tone.

Jerry saw the tears forming in her eyes, so he brought her in for a hug. He knows about the feelings she has for Elvis, so he knows it’s hard seeing him like this. As Y/N returned the hug she tried her best to keep her tears in.

They released from the hug when they heard Elvis singing to Suspicious Minds with no music. Y/N could sense right away that something was wrong, and it was just going to get worse. As Elvis went on a rant about how this was going to be his last show in Vegas the Colonel immediately made his way up to the stage.

“Pull the curtain down!” Colonel told someone in a demanding tone which made Y/N and Jerry look at him. “What is going on here.” Colonel asked Jerry in a stern tone. Jerry took a glance at Elvis and then back at the Colonel. “I think he wants to know that, too.” Jerry told him.

When Elvis saw the Colonel started to act even more out of character. Elvis was having a melt down and it was starting to scare Y/N a little since she’s never seen him act like this. As the curtain started to fall Elvis started to yell at the Colonel. When Elvis said, “You’re Fired!” to the Colonel Y/N felt her heart rate speed up.

As the Colonel walked closer to him, he just kept saying “you’re fired” louder and louder each time. “YOU’RE FIRED!” Elvis screamed into his microphone which made everyone, and everything go silent. Everyone looked at Elvis with shock as the Colonel looked at him with sadness. “You’re fired.” Elvis said more calm and not into the microphone.

When he dropped his microphone, it made Y/N jump by the loud noise the mic made when it hit the stage. She watched him turn away from the Colonel and walk off the stage.

********************

Y/N decided to wait an hour before going up to Elvis’s room to check on him. Y/N was walking down the hallway to the elevator when she felt someone grab her left wrist. Y/N turned around to see that it was the Colonel who grabbed her wrist.

“Let me go.” Y/N told him in a demanding tone. “You go up there and tell him to take me back.” Colonel told her in the same tone she used. He knew she was going upstairs to talk to Elvis. Y/N let out a scoff as she pulled her wrist out of his grip. “You are the reason why he’s falling apart!” Y/N told him. “You’re the reason why he’s hooked on all of those drugs and you’re the reason why Pricilla and Lisa left him!” Y/N added as she looks at him with a fiery look in her eyes.

“Do it or you’re fired!” Colonel told her in a warning tone. “You’re not the boss of me and you never were.” Y/N said not back down to him. “You stay the hell away from him!” Y/N told him in a warning voice and walked away from him.

********************

When Y/N got to Elvis’s room before she could knock on the door it opened to reveal Elvis. “When I heard footsteps, I figured that it was you coming to check on me.” Elvis told her letting her inside. Y/N could tell that he was more calmed down then what he was just an hour ago. “I was going to come up here right away, but I decided to let you cool off.” Y/N told him while he closed the door.

“I’m sorry that you had to see me like that. I guess I just lost control.” Elvis told her turning around to face her but didn’t look at her. “Elvis, you have nothing to be sorry about.” Y/N told him. She put one of her hands onto one of his cheeks which made his eyes meet hers. “It was the drugs and that shot of alcohol didn’t help either but that’s what made you lose it.” Y/N reassured him.

“But what you did right was you set yourself free from that monster.” Y/N told him stroking his cheek lightly with her thumb. “I didn’t want him taking you away from me, too.” Elvis told her.

Before she could say anything, Elvis’s lips connected with hers. Y/N immediately returned the kiss. They continued to kiss until they had to pull away for air.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Elvis confessed to her. Y/N’s lips curved up into a smile. “Me too.” Y/N told him and leaned back up to reconnect her lips with his soft lips again.

[joons]

This may be a prickly subject, and I'm sorry if so. But I'm trying to learn more about Elvis, and every time I bring him up to people I know, they try to tell me he was this terrible person, and point me toward Priscilla's book, the movie made on it, and the discourse. Idk if you've talked about it on here (I tried searching your blog but couldn't find anything on it). If you're willing, I'd love to hear your take on it so I can see a more nuanced view.

The film Priscilla was greenlit roughly a month after Priscilla herself was informed that she was close to becoming financially insolvent in 2022. With a business partner, Brigitte Kruse, who allegedly helped broker the film deal, she established a limited liability company called Priscilla Presley Partners that was supposed to use her image and likeness to create several lines of merchandise to coincide with the film's release. That business partner is now suing Priscilla because she did not have the rights to her image or likeness, or any ability to use the Presley name, because she had already sold all of those rights and was no longer considered in good standing with Graceland or Elvis Presley Enterprises. The entire business deal, then, according to the lawsuit, was built on her misrepresentation of how much her image was worth.

The deal between the two of them fell apart after Riley Keough, Lisa Marie's daughter and Priscilla's granddaughter, settled with Priscilla to give her a lump sum of $1 million from Lisa Marie's estate and yearly amounts of $100,000. Priscilla sued very shortly after Lisa Marie's death because she thought Lisa Marie's signature on a will had been forged because Priscilla was not included in it. All of the assets were supposed to go directly to Lisa Marie's son, Benjamin Keough, who died in 2020, and her three daughters, two of whom are still teenagers. Now, part of those assets have been claimed by Priscilla and her other son, Navarone, who has no connection to the Presley family and has stated he is glad Lisa died.

Four months before Lisa's death, Lisa wrote to Sofia Coppola and made it clear she had strong concerns about the Priscilla film and was suspicious of the intentions behind it:

"As his daughter, I don’t read this and see any of my father in this character. I don’t read this and see my mother’s perspective of my father. ... I will be forced to be in a position where I will have to openly say how I feel about the film and go against you, my mother and this film publicly."

Lisa was enormously grateful for efforts put into 2022's Elvis to find her father's soul and to restore his dignity in a world that often turns him and his family into a joke:

"You can feel and witness Baz’s pure love, care, and respect for my father throughout this beautiful film, and it is finally something that myself and my children and their children can be proud of forever."

It is such a strong and powerful statement, to see how much Lisa valued family, not just her father but her own children and their legacy, and how willing she was to speak up no matter what was going on in her personal life to say what was right. On this and many other things, Lisa and Priscilla's values have rarely been in alignment. A friend and EPE business associate, Joel Weinshanker, said of her, "Lisa couldn't be bought, she couldn't be pushed. If she felt that something wasn't in Elvis' best interest, it was never about money. And she really is the only Presley that you could say that about."

Priscilla, though, has adjusted her stories about her time with Elvis almost every time she discusses it. For a quick example, she said in her book, which was released in 1985, that Elvis insisted she do her hair and makeup a certain way, that he had control over her look and would get upset if she didn't dress how he wanted. But in an interview with Ladies' Home Journal in 1973, she said that she made a deliberate choice to attend makeup school so that she could learn how to style herself, and that it was her idea to wear big, black hair and big, black eyeliner. She said she was embarrassed for going overboard. She said, "I wish that Elvis had said something, but he must have liked it because he never commented." This lines up with recollections from Patti Parry, a platonic friend of Elvis' and a hairstylist, who said Priscilla always wanted Patti to do her hair in a "big boombah," but that Priscilla would then get upset when Elvis didn't notice or didn't like it.

These changes are impossible not to notice if you follow her for any length of time. At the film premiere, she said it felt just like watching her life and said she was consulted on everything, since she was an executive producer. After the film came out, she said she couldn't understand why Coppola had changed so much about the story and misrepresented events. In the '70s, she said she and Elvis lived almost totally separate lives, that she came and went as she pleased, and that she loved this freedom. Later, she said she felt completely stifled and trapped and never left the house, even though she had friends she went out with all the time. In 2019, she tweeted a forceful denial about a National Enquirer story: "This is the Enquirer folks... please don't believe everything you read. ... Never planned on being buried next to Elvis. What will they come up with next?" But part of her settlement demands in her lawsuit against Riley in 2023 asked "to be buried next to Elvis." This year, she said in two separate interviews that Lisa was with her when Elvis died and that Priscilla had to break the news to her, despite the fact that Lisa was at Graceland when it happened. She has said she gave Elvis the idea to wear belts on his jumpsuits, to have a lightning bolt as his logo, to sing "An American Trilogy," though none of that is true. She retells the story about forcing Elvis to burn all of his spiritual books to prove he loved her as an almost funny anecdote about debrainwashing him, while Elvis later said it was the worst thing he ever agreed to, a desperate attempt to make her happy by giving up the things he valued the most. (For the record, this is my opinion about their relationship on both sides: thinking they could change themselves and each other to make it work. It never did.)

Every secondhand Elvis account has to be treated lightly and only valued for its consistency with known facts and other witnesses. I try to give enormous benefit of the doubt to anyone in the Elvis world because they often only have partial knowledge of what Elvis may have been thinking at any given time, and there are numerous examples of people who were taken advantage of by unscrupulous journalists who changed the story they wanted to tell. But Priscilla's stories sometimes are not even consistent with her own statements, which makes them very poor options indeed to base anything on. However careful we are about noting potential biases and inaccuracies in other memoirs, we have to be triply, quadruply careful with anything in which Priscilla involves herself because she has a vested interest in generating discourse today in order to make money. Unfortunately, Priscilla has a habit of stifling other accounts or making sensationalized statements each time there is a possibility that she will lose some of the cachet that comes with being an Elvis Source—after Elvis' death, when she believed she was going to inherit his airplane and disinvited everyone that Vernon said could fly in it to his funeral; when she sued the parents of one of Elvis' ex-girlfriends after he died because he had allowed them to live rent-free in a house he bought for them; when she claimed that Elvis wanted to reunite with her before his death, despite the fact that he was engaged to someone else and told many people he couldn't see a reunion ever happening with her; before Vernon's death, when she convinced him to make her an executor of the Presley estate until Lisa came of age; after Lisa came of age, when she convinced Lisa to let her stay on as partner; when Lisa accused Priscilla of misspending Lisa's money, during which time anonymous sources cropped up to say Lisa was in debt and drug-addled; when Priscilla was removed from her position as an EPE spokesperson but kept collecting $900,000 a year from the company; when Lisa died, and Priscilla sued once she learned she wasn't in the will; when Priscilla was no longer associated with EPE and decided to do another adaptation of a book that she has since recanted parts of and has contradicted before and after its release.

When Priscilla thinks there is a threat to her image and position, she does new interviews and projects to muddy the waters and stir public interest, whether it is true or false, positive or negative, laudatory or defamatory. She gets corrected by Elvis' surviving family members, girlfriends, friends, and fans, but these stories do not get the same reach no matter how much they are backed by contemporaneous documents and witnesses, or how many resources there are to educate the public on how Elvis' and Priscilla's attitudes about marriage and relationships changed—along with the rest of society—between 1960 and 1970.

I think almost any single-source project is not going to advance our understanding of Elvis in any way because no one individual can speak for him, and we are kind of obligated to include all the context we can in order to appreciate his character, his successes and failures, flaws and virtues—and to treat both himself and those around him as fully three-dimensional people who have their own blind spots. Priscilla is far too aware of her own image, and far too willing to change it to suit the audience, to be particularly valuable here.

She is next scheduled to appear at the Lexington (Kentucky) Comic & Toy Con.

[hooked-on-elvis]

"New Elvis documentary by Baz Luhrmann in the works as well as Graceland’s plans for the next 3 years"

During Elvis Week 2024 in Memphis, plans were announced for the “Road to 50”, the 3 years from now leading up to the 50th anniversary of Elvis Presley’s death in August 2027. Joel Weinshanker, managing partner of Elvis Presley Enterprises, gave a sneak preview of several projects that they are working on.   Plans for Elvis' 90th birthday celebration were also discussed.

Source: Elvis News Examiner by Trina Young (author of a few books on Elvis). August 20, 2024.

[headfullofpresley]

maybe you can write a little something about this, during the 68 comeback special elvis says this to the reader.

𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞

Word count: 1,9K

Warnings: fan!reader, '68 cb special, elvis being a menace, infidelity, sexual innuendos/tension, smutty if you squint.

A/N: honestly- the urge to turn this into a full on smut was so strong 💀. might still do it if y'all twist my arm hard enough...

masterlist

You had been a fan of Elvis Presley for as long as you could remember.

Magazine clippings, records, signed Christmas cards sent out by EP Enterprises, movie posters – name it and you had it. You loved collecting those little things and decorating the first apartment you recently got with it.

You had met Elvis on several occassions during and before his time in Hollywood since you lived in California yourself. You weren’t ashamed to admit that you’d often hang around the outside of his home gates with other fans, catching a glimpse of him whenever he left the premises, or arrived back home from his schedule.

Luck was on your side, because you got more than just a glimpse. Elvis loved interacting with his fans and he was drawn to you the second he saw you, making sure to get familiar with you. You weren’t the type to scream hysterically in his face – not even when his eyes bored intensely into yours or when he’d hold your hand a little longer than anyone else’s – and he liked that about you.

Not to mention the fact that you were absolutely gorgeous and you were on his mind more often than you should.

��

The line between being a fan and friend to Elvis was starting to get thinner and although you did not openly brag about it, the other fans that you’d hang out with were starting to notice the shift between you and Elvis- most of them were jealous and it caused you to be pushed out of the group a little, getting nasty looks or mumbled insults whenever Elvis wasn’t around.

It made you feel a little awkward sometimes, but you didn’t care at all whenever the singer would greet you with a hug or a kiss.

In the end, you were the one who was winning.

 

Elvis had made a special request that you’d be present at the taping of the comeback special- when Joe told you the news, you were absolutely over the moon.

You called in sick at work on the day, not caring if it would get you in trouble or not. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and there was no way in hell you’d let it slip through your fingers.

That day, you spend a little longer on your hair and make-up than usual, but you wanted to make sure you looked pretty. You wanted to look beautiful for Elvis- ofcourse, the thought of being asked to come backstage was heavy on your mind. He had complimented you on your eyeliner a lot of times before, telling you it made your eyes pop. He also liked your locks curled and your dresses short; you’d seen his eyes lingering on your bare thighs plenty of times before.

As you got to Burbank and were seated at the front of the small square stage among other fans, you weren’t worried about the fact that you were so dressed up at all. Before leaving your apartment, you were nervous that the colorful scarf you makeshifted into a headband and hung down your back through your locks was a little too much, but seeing how much effort everyone put into their looks, you weren’t worried. With your little white dress and the color of your heels matching your scarf, you looked and felt amazing.

 

Elvis seemed to think the same thing- the second he came onto the stage and he fell back into his performing ways so effortlessly, he noticed you immediately. After all, he was the one who had made sure you’d be seated at the front. With your eyes looking up at him through those whispy long lashes, begging for his attention, he couldn’t help himself but come down to your side of the stage more often than he should.

You relished in the attention he was giving you, the combination of his eyes looking right into your soul and his voice touching all your senses making you blush like a fool. You were pretty sure the reason for you feeling so hot wasn’t because of the lighting in the studio, but rather the leather outfit adorning Elvis’ body.

As you moved your hair to one side and exposed the curve of your neck while fanning yourself with your hand, it had him shamelessly grunting in the mic.

Everyone figured it was part of the performance and it got them to swoon and scream, but as he shot you a sneaky wink, you knew better.

 

Your favorite singer took it a step further once he sat on a chair with a guitar in his lap, the other men you were all too familiar with surrounding him. As Scotty caught your eye, recognizing you from back in the day, he flashed you a quick smile and Elvis felt a pang of jealousy in his chest as you wiggled your fingers in a wave at the guitarist.

With his wife in the back of the audience and Susan, who he was sharing the sheets with now and then, backstage, Elvis knew he was being unreasonable. But how was he even expected to behave when you looked so damn stunning among that crowd of people?

He was a man. A weak one when it came to pretty women- especially when they came in the shape of you.

You were swooning as soon as the first melodies of ‘Are You Lonesome Tonight’ echoed through the studio. It was one of your absolute favorites- you had forgotten about mentioning this to Elvis once, but he hadn’t. He looked at you as he started singing, but forced himself to aim his attention on other people in the crowd and the guys around him as well because if it were up to him, he would’ve sung it for you and you only.

Elvis was a professional through and through, but it was like you had some freaky magnetic force surrounding you and he wasn’t strong enough to fight the urge to keep being drawn to you. Scotty wasn’t an absolute idiot, and neither were the others- they all exchanged knowing smirks with each other, knowing the singer was bound to break any time now.

It only took him three full lines, before the comment that had been burning on his tongue flew right off.

“Does your memory stray- man, she’s pretty,”

The small wolf whistle that followed as he looked right at you made your heart jump in your chest. You widened your eyes a little, cheeks flushing with the way Scotty and Charlie’s laughs were very much audible. You weren’t an idiot- you knew the comment was meant for you and even though it had you feeling even hotter than before, you weren’t fainting in hysterics over it.

Biting your lip, you grinned and pointed at yourself.

“Me?” you mouthed playfully to Elvis as he sneakily looked at you, making him rumble out a deep laugh in the mic as he continued singing. He smirked and nodded your way, sending you another wink before he was forced to look away from you once more before people around you would start to get suspicious.

He was singing this song for you and he made sure you knew it by sneakily meeting your eyes and sending you little smiles.

If they hadn’t already.

You nearly gave him a heart attack by blowing him a kiss after the song- he couldn’t wait until he was done.

 

Some fans you met in the crowd asked you to join them for drinks after the show but you were stolen out of the crowd leaving the studio in a whirlwind.

While you had been excited to cool down with some girls and talk about the show, you’d much rather follow Joe through the long maze like hallways of the studio like you were doing right now.

Your heart was beating so fast you worried the smaller man next to you heard it, but he didn’t seem like he did as he casually knocked on a door, making you abruptly halt in your fast paced walk. You didn’t have time to catch your breath, the door swinging open two seconds later to reveal a sweaty Elvis, still clothed in his leather fit.

You didn’t know why you were so flabbergasted- you met Elvis many times before, had conversations with him about the most random shit as if he was your closest friend while standing outside of his house or his car. But you had never met Elvis like this.

Never in a dressing room backstage and never with him looking like that.

Joe smiled at you as he gestured for you to go inside and as you did, he disappeared as Elvis closed the door. The singer pulled you into a hug, his large hands rubbing up and down your back.

“Did you enjoy the show, honey?”

You looked up at him as he pulled away, keeping distance between the two of you as he held onto your shoulders. He looked down at your dress, licking his lips at the sight of your exposed thighs; he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into them.

“I did,” you told him, finding your voice. It was less shaky than you had expected- good. You didn’t want him to think you had suddenly become a crazed fan that would faint upon the sight of him. “You were really amazing, Elvis,”

“Just amazing?”

You laughed softly at the way he grinned at you, allowing him to slip his hand into yours to tug you along to the couch. Sitting down next to him, you crossed your legs and shifted your body into his direction a little, smiling sweetly.

“And sexy,” you blurted out, knowing you were stepping in dangerous waters here- but that was exactly what you wanted. Your hand found its way to his knee, manicured nails drawing small circles on the leather as you leaned in a little closer to him. “I love the leather,”

He felt his cock twitching in the tight confinement of his pants as you whispered those words to him, your hand crawling closer up his thigh.

“Oh yeah, what do you love about it, hm?” he spoke lowly, his tongue making an appearance as he licked his lips while he placed his hand on  he side of your neck, thumb caressing your jawline.

He had fantasized about getting you in this kind of situation a lot- unfortunately, he never had the chance to take you into his house or car because other people were always around.

Either other fans, or his wife.

He made sure he wouldn’t have anyone bothering him for a good hour now, and he was planning to put that hour to good use.

“It’s very.. tight,”

Your hand unexpectedly found the bulge in his pants, palming him softly through the fabric- he hummed deeply as he smirked, moving his hand to the back of your head to push your face closer to his. You arched your back a little so your chest would be up against his and he snaked his other arm around your waist, hand easily founding your ass which was exposed due to your short dress and the very skimpy panties you decided to wear.

“I can think of another thing that’s very tight,” he whispered, not giving you the time to respond as he pressed his lips softly against yours. You moaned softly in his mouth as his tongue found yours and his hand dipped lower, prodding his fingers in between your thighs to explore what he had been daydreaming about for so long.

The real thing was so much better than his imagination.

 

It was safe to say that you had been upgraded from fan to friend, maybe even more; either way, you had worked your way into Elvis’ inner circle, making it to the other side of the gate.

Taglist: @breadsquash @feverkitten @woundmetender @returntoelvis @prayerstopresley @ab4eva @elvisabutler @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @wonka-gifs @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette

[mitchipedia]

RIP Teri Garr, 79, after a long battle with multiple sclerosis.

She starred in “Young Frankenstein,” “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” “Tootsie,” “Mr. Mom,” Martin Scorsese’s “After Hours,” and the “Assignment: Earth” episode of “Star Trek.” She appeared on “M*A*S*H,” “The Odd Couple,” and “The Bob Newhart Show,” and in many more roles.

Variety:

Starting out as a go-go dancer, she can be seen shimmying behind the performers in filmed rock concert “The T.A.M.I. Show” and in six Elvis Presley features….

Garr’s first speaking role came in the Monkees' offbeat feature film “Head,” written by Jack Nicholson, whom she had met in an acting class. On the “Assignment Earth” episode of “Star Trek,” she played a ditsy secretary, the first in a string of many such roles.

That was the Star Trek episode where the Enterprise goes back to 1960s Earth and encounters a super-advanced alien named Gary Seven, who is undercover as a human secret agent. In later life, Garr said that Trek producer Gene Roddenberry was a perv who kept wanting her to wear shorter and shorter miniskirts, and she didn’t do Trek fan appearances.

Garr explained to the A.V. Club in a viciously frank and feminist 2008 interview why she was often cast as the “long-suffering wife” in films such as “Mr. Mom”: “If there’s ever a woman who’s smart, funny, or witty, people are afraid of that, so they don’t write that. They only write parts for women where they let everything be steamrolled over them, where they let people wipe their feet all over them. Those are the kind of parts I play, and the kind of parts that there are for me in this world. In this life.”

[perspectivelute]

Flying Elvi

Back in the days when Stephen Pinker wrote books about language, he had a nice section about Latin and Greek plurals in English. Alumnus becomes alumni, cactus becomes cacti, and so on.

But it doesn't always work. Sometimes we gave up pretending English is Latin (circus, museum). Sometimes it was never a Latin word to begin with (octopus).

or..Elvis. Pinker dug up this newspaper story:

“In Las Vegas, The Flying Elvi sued The Flying Elvises for trademark theft. Both organizations leap from airplanes in Elvis Presley (late period) costumes and dance and pretend to sing upon landing.”

They did indeed. The Flying Elvi lost on grammar but won in court, and their website testily asserts that they are "are the only officially licensed skydive team by Elvis Presley Enterprises®"

As for The Flying Elvises, I found some reminscences on a skydiving forum

I know Paul and his E team [yet another group of skydiving Elvises]. My buddy George and I groundcrewed a couple of his demos here in Vegas after we had quit being Elvis. Paul puts on quite a show with all the pyro , I was impressed. Im guessing we did at least 75 or 80 demos coast to coast after the movie. I would have to look in my logbook , which I aint gonna do. It was a ball until we got sued and that really sucked. Cost us 80 grand.

[doll-elvis]

I don’t care about her living off of Elvis but I kinda wish Priscilla didn’t erase his other girlfriends from his story like Anita Wood, Ann Margret, and Linda Thompson

this is an interesting topic for sure. I’ve wondered if anyone else has noticed that there is kind of a hierarchy in the elvis world regarding girlfriends and friends of elvis. and it can especially be seen by what elvis presley enterprises chooses to promote

like for example, Dixie Locke and Priscilla became good friends later on in life. And I think that has influenced Dixie Locke’s book being sold on the Graceland website and maybe even why she was shown in the Elvis movie. You would definitely never see something like Ann Margret’s book or Joyce Bova’s being promoted. I have noticed that elvis presley enterprises doesn’t want to put any attention on girlfriends whose time with Elvis overlapped with Priscilla’s, like Joyce Bova, Ann Margret and Anita Wood for example.

even at Graceland where Elvis’ tcb ring is displayed I heard that the tour guide doesn’t mention that the diamond on it isn’t the original, and that the original diamond is with Ginger Alden as it was used to make her engagement ring which she still has to this day. regardless of what you think of Ginger, to completely ignore her engagement with Elvis is crazy to me

As for Linda I was honestly really surprised that she had no mention in the Elvis movie at all. I understand the movie was more about Elvis and the colonel’s relationship but to ignore almost 5 years of Elvis’ life with Linda is crazy. But I think it was to show some narrative like Elvis was never able to move on from Priscilla, which I don’t think is true and is unfair to women like Linda, Sheila and Ginger who had significant relationships with him. Idk how much control Priscilla actually has, especially now, and from my understanding she wasn’t involved in the movie but I sometimes think maybe Baz did certain things to appease Priscilla but I can’t say for sure👀

I think all Elvis history is worth knowing, and it’s definitely not fair to just pick and choose

what do y’all think?

[bcofl0ve]

hi elvis fan friends. i know the whole ‘what in god’s name is going on at graceland re: security and what not’ thing has been weighing on a lot of us.

my background is in politics and having done a lot of ‘hi i’m not happy’ emails over the years i made a template for one y’all could send to epe/graceland. i encourage tweaking it a little to make it sound like yourself and not a script/bot. but i know it can be hard to know where to start with stuff like this so i hope this template is helpful!

i was trying to find an email address and couldn’t, so i think the contact form on the website is probably the best way to send something like this? (hit general questions as the category). if anyone knows of an actual email lmk i’ll add it to this post.

[eptodaytommorowforever]

Order the Official Elvis Presley Plectrum Coin today for FREE (just £2.50 postage) as a gift to you!

Many guitarists use a plectrum to pick and strum their guitar. Commonly, they’re made of plastic – but one of the most popular replacements are in fact, coins.

Now, issued in official partnership with Elvis Presley Enterprises, this exclusive and official legal tender plectrum shaped coin was struck in tribute to the very first Rock ‘n’ Roll star – Elvis Presley!

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Love In Trouble [Part Five]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character, Austin Butler x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Original Female Character, Austin Butler, Red West, Sonny West, Jerry Schilling Colonel Tom Parker, Minnie Presley, Vernon Presley, Dee Presley, Joanie Esposito, Joe Esposito, Pat West

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5041

Summary: Lori Presley lives the high life. She has a lovely home, a elegant wardrobe and her parties are the most sought after ticket in town. Not to mention her husband is the King of Memphis. But what if she no longer wants to be the Queen?

Tags/Warnings: This is a mafia au with detective austin butler entering the chat, Memphis Mafia, Detective Austin Butler, Adultery, Infidelity, Love, Angst, Unhappy Marriage, Murder, Court Room Drama in the loosest possible way, AU, Set in the 70s

Notes: I've had a shit few weeks but we're carrying on and thank god cos our Boys have finally met <3

LINK TO ALL PARTS // LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST

‘Are you ready?’ Austin asked, swapping the receiver of the phone to his other ear so that he didn’t miss her answer.

‘I think so,’ Lori replied quietly

‘It can't be think, Lori. It’s got to be a yes or no,’ he said trying to keep the frustration out of his voice but remain firm. Because it had to be yes or no, preferably yes. Otherwise he'd gone to bat for nothing. He had pissed off his captain and sheriff and made a stink amongst the precinct for nothing. He’d be the new guy swooping in from California and ruining the delicate Memphian ecosystem of bribes and looking the other way. Even the district attorney, who had backed him, had done so on the promise of bringing down the entire operation. He wasn’t bothered about Presley or Tony for that matter. He wanted to be the one to oust key players from the city’s underbelly. For morality or glory Austin didn’t know but it was the reason he kept himself from sounding too agitated. If they were going to bring down anything they needed her. She had even been the one to point out that they had cause to arrest Presley as he was sure to have a ten card from previous, something Austin hadn’t even considered.

‘No, I am,’ she said, her breath a little shaky which didn’t fill him with confidence but he accepted her words nonetheless. It wasn’t as though he had a choice not to. He could hear her shift, hesitance in her breathing that insinuated she was going to ask him something and so he waited for it, ‘do you know when?’

‘Tomorrow,’ he replied, ‘early morning. The DA wants to make sure no news gets out, that they don’t get to alert one another, so we’re hitting every house at once.’

‘How many?’ she asked quietly.

‘Just the names you gave me,’ he said. It had felt odd to have followed her to a chapel of rest but getting a hold of her without someone watching he was fast learning was an art. Even having her on the phone had taken a handful of calls until she and she alone had picked up. Fortunately no one in the Presley enterprise seemed keen to accompany her in staring at a closed casket. There had been no service and no attendees other than him and her which had been fortunate for him even if it had made him feel a little dirty.

‘Right,’ she muttered, ‘are you coming?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like you’ll arrest him?’ she asked

‘Yes it’s my case,’ he replied, his frustration growing at the hitch in her breathing, ‘is that a problem?’

‘No,’ she said quietly though her tone was not reassuring furthering his nerves which prompted him to ask, ‘if you don’t think you can act-’

‘Honey I’ve been acting my entire life,’ she whispered, ‘I’ll be ready.’

✵✵✵

Lori didn’t sleep most of that night. She didn’t do much but potter around her bedroom fretting. In fact she only stopped when she heard the rumble of a car pulling into the driveway signalling that Elvis was home. At that she’d leapt into bed and turned the light off, turning herself to face the wall as she listened to him stumble in and strip off his clothes before he clambered into bed. Fortunately he had fallen asleep quickly, far away on the other side of the bed which meant she wasn’t forced to face him. Instead she spent her night watching him. He looked younger when asleep, more innocent. That was when the uncertainty had crept back in. When Austin had asked her if she was ready she had thought she was but looking at him like that made her doubt herself.

She knew it was selfish. That her only doubts were on her own behalf but she couldn’t help but feel them. Those doubts had been the soundtrack she had fallen asleep to and they were interrupted as she was brought back to the realm of consciousness by a dull thud, the padded door of her bedroom hitting the wall at a pace.

‘Boss! Boss you gotta get up!’ she heard Charlie’s voice call before she came to and when she did he was already pulling clothes out of their closet ready for Elvis who had yet to stir.

‘Elvis,’ she said groggily, a limp hand shaking his shoulder as she tried her best to rouse him, ‘Elvis wake up.’

‘Boss you gotta come quick,’ Charlie said, throwing an outfit on the bed as he too tried to shake her husband awake. He came to the moment Charlie touched him.

‘What is it?’ he asked crankily.

‘Cops,’ Charlie said, ‘they’re askin’ to come in. Say they’ve got a warrant or something.

‘What?’ Lori gasped.

‘What are you talkin’ about?’ Elvis said, forcing himself up in bed quickly and wiping the sleep from his eyes.

‘They want you and they’re not takin’ no for an answer,’ Charlie said, offering the clothing to Elvis who started to dress without care his friend was in the room.

‘What do you mean?’ Lori asked but her question was ignored by both men.

‘Go and tell ‘em I’ll be down in a minute,’ Elvis said, rubbing his tired face as he tried to wrap his head around what was going on. As Charlie nodded and scurried out of sight Lori moved a little closer, keeping her tone as worried as possible as she asked, ‘El what’s happening?’

‘How the fuck do I know?’ Elvis grunted as he slipped on his pants, donning a pale blue shirt over his tanned torso a moment later. At that she fell quiet fearing too much questioning would cause too much scrutiny on her end.

Yet she couldn’t help but watch him. He was clearly disgruntled by the whole thing. His jaw was set and his gorgeous blue eyes though tired burned bright with indignation. A sentiment that was confirmed as they left the bedroom. She could hear people downstairs, worried chatter carrying up from kitchen stairs and the muttering of men in her hallway. But he didn’t turn the corner, he lingered on the landing, almost forcing her to walk into the back of him, before he straightened his shirt and then sauntered down the stairs without a care in the world. Lori followed behind in trepidation.

When they got down there Austin was standing on their front stoop, in amongst a gang of officers who seemed wholly unenthused to be there. In fact the only one who didn’t seem entirely put out was his fellow plain clothed officer who nudged him as he noted Elvis stride into view. Lori kept close behind, smiling weakly as Charlie threw her a reassuring smile and trying to ignore how Elvis’ grandma’s eyes bore into the back of her skull from her chair in the living room as she watched on.

As they got to the front step the chattering amongst the officers grew quiet, all eyes on them as Elvis surveyed the party before he said, ‘someone wanna tell me what the fuck’s goin on?

‘Mr Presley?’ Austin asked, his eyes flitting to Lori behind him for half a second.

‘Yeah,’ Elvis grunted.

‘We’re here to serve a warrant,’ Austin said as he produced a stack of papers from his suit jacket and handed them across where Elvis could snatch them out of his hand. He read quickly, his eyes scanning the pages before they narrowed and he asked, ‘in relation to a murder?’

‘Yes,’ Austin replied.

‘The fuck this have to do with me?’

‘Well that’s what we’d like to ask you about,’ Austin’s partner said.

‘Down at the station,’ Austin added. Lori kept her eyes trained on her husband watching as his jaw clenched in indignation.

‘I already told you I don’t know nuthin’ about that,’ Elvis said.

‘Yeah well we have new evidence that states otherwise,’ Astin said, with a tight smile, ‘so if you’d come with us. These boys can get to serving their warrant.’

‘What evidence?’ Elvis spat.

‘Like I said we can talk about it down at the station,’ Austin replied.

‘Like hell,’ Elvis baulked throwing the warrant so that it hit Austin square in the chest, fluttering to the floor onto white concrete. Austin sighed and stepped forward. He was looking up at Elvis, the step to the portico meaning they were on uneven footing but he was standing tall with a look of warning mirth on his face as he said, ‘that’s not a request so unless you want cuffing you need to come with us.’

Elvis narrowed his eyes. Everyone was watching him which admittedly wasn’t a new phenomenon but he normally didn’t care what those around him saw. Now however he seemed aware that he needed to play this carefully and though his words sounded like a consent there was an air of contempt woven through his demeanour as he turned away and looked to Charlie as he said, ‘get me jacket will ya.’

‘Elvis what do we do?’ Lori asked as he moved inside the hall checking his appearance in the mirror as if he was going out for a leisurely stroll and not being arrested. Austin pulled back and loitered with his partner who was tucking the dropped warrant back in his pocket.

‘Call the colonel,’ Elvis said, quaffing his hair before he took the jacket from Charlie who had now reappeared. He continued as he slipped it on, ‘call daddy and tell ‘em what happened.’

‘Right, okay the colonel,’ Lori said, watching as he walked out onto the front stoop ready to move along. Lori came to stand at the door unsure of how to part from him. A kiss felt too familiar especially in the presence of so many officers and yet not to do so felt off. Everything felt wrong which was no surprise given that her stomach had been doing somersaults since the moment her eyes had snapped open.

‘Tell ‘em not to worry,’ he said, glancing at Austin and a uniformed officer who were striding out ahead of him to a car sitting by the bottom of the steps before leaning in to press a kiss on her cheek. She should’ve known an audience wouldn't deter Elvis Presley from showing especially considering he didn’t sound at all worried as he said, ‘I’ll be home before breakfast. You’ll see.’

And then he was gone. Lori watched as he walked to the car and climbed through the door being held open for him which closed with a squeak and a slam. He was in shadow in the back seat so she couldn’t see him properly but nevertheless she watched as the car drove down the winding drive before embarking onto the street.

When she moved from the door the uniformed officers entered and by the time she’d left the hall they were already going through cabinets and cupboards with no rhyme or reason. Her belongings spilled from drawers onto carpets and tables. Her couch cushions littered the floor around Grandma Dodger. Gladys’ finest China clinked as it was pushed around the cupboard without care. As she wandered through to the kitchen she tried to remind herself she had asked for this. She had tossed the grenade herself and that she couldn’t be reluctant for things to feel a little messy. Messy would prevail in justice for Tony. Punishing Elvis would punish her in return which was what she deserved. Even if she was feeling all out of sorts because of it. In a way she supposed that was better, if she’d been cool and collected Elvis would’ve sniffed her out she was sure of it. At least a nervous mess she was playing the game.

Finally she made it to the kitchen, unhooking the receiver of the phone from the latch as the staff whispered from a huddle in the corner as they tried to stay out of the way of the officers. However she didn’t get very far in dialling before she heard her name called and swivelled around to find the other plainclothes officer, what she suspected to be Austin’s partner watching her intently.

‘Yes?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

‘What's this?’ he asked, gesturing to the TV unit on the kitchen worktop that displayed a picture of the gate.

‘Our security system,’ she said.

‘Is it just on the gate?’ he asked just as Charlie came in looking harried.

‘Yep,’ she said, her throat dry and sticking with now two pairs of eyes on her.

‘And it’s on twenty-four hours a day?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, we don’t shut it off,’ she confirmed.

‘Does it record?’ he asked.

‘Uh, yeah,’ she said, ‘I think so.’

‘Great thanks,’ he said, donning his glasses as he moved to inspect the bulky contraption. Lori turned to restart her phone call, the dial tone now missing given her prolonged absence but as she did she felt a hand on her elbow and a set of lips by the shell of her ear as Charlie whispered, ‘what did you tell him that for?’ before moving past her towards his room.

Lori watched him go, glancing at the detective who was still scrutinising the camera system. It looked as though her acting wasn’t the only thing that was going to need to withstand scrutiny.

✵✵✵

Elvis Presley was not a patient man. He never had been, being an only child and the apple of his mother’s eye hadn’t helped him with his temperament, but notoriety and twenty or so years of bossing everyone around had meant he hadn’t got used to waiting around. He certainly was not used to being given as little information as possible other than being read his rights before he was stuffed into an interview room on his own. Not even his lawyer, a nervous, sweaty man called Hank, arriving had hurried the process up. Which was why he was still sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair, glaring at an older detective as his lawyer flicked through a thin file and tried to ignore the way Elvis’ leg rattled against his as it bounced against the tile floor.

He only broke his gaze as the door unlatched, the blonde detective, the one who’d been stirring the pot since day dot, sauntered in, case file in hand. Elvis watched as he closed the door quietly and unable to stop the irritation from bubbling inside him he found a snarky, ‘by all means take your damn time,’ fall from his lips without warning.

Austin threw him a glance but didn’t respond, electing to remain silent as he dropped into the seat opposite. Because he knew Elvis Presley wasn’t a patient man. No man who had half of Memphis cower to his every want and whim could possibly be patient. He was too well catered to and more importantly too used to everyone bending over backwards to accommodate him, it was why he’d left him in here for the longest time. It was why he’d interviewed all his cronies first. It was why he didn’t say anything as he got settled, allowing the other man to shift in his seat as he muttered, ‘ain’t bad enough you hauled my ass down here on some bullshit charge.’

Again Austin ignored him, gesturing for his partner to flip the switch on the large tape player in between both parties which he did, shifting awkwardly as he realised Austin was allowing him some input. Of course John did not know his partner that well but he’d been in enough interview rooms to know the dynamic his colleague was aiming for. And so he cleared his throat and prepared his most polite tone as he said, ‘interview commenced at nine fifteen am on June twelfth. Detectives Butler and Melling present along with the appropriate counsel. Sir, could you please state and spell your name for the record?’

John was watching Elvis as he spoke, everyone was, but the man’s gaze remained locked on Austin, his blue eyes narrowed and a distinct curl on his lip in contempt even though it wasn’t him asking. Austin didn’t react.

‘Uh, Mr Presley,’ John said, clearing his throat again awkwardly when he failed to answer, ‘could you please-’

‘Elvis Presley,’ Elvis replied, his eyes still on Austin, ‘E-L-V-I-S P-R-E-S-L-E-Y.’

‘Thank you,’ John replied, an awkward but thankful smile on his lips that Austin resisted the urge to roll his eyes to. It hadn’t been easy to get everyone on board and though John had backed him but less out of the belief Austin had a good case and more out of some archaic duty to support his partner when he was under fire. Still it hadn't meant he was entirely on board and even he wasn't immune to trying to make Elvis Presley feel comfortable.

‘Now you gonna tell me why the hell you dragged my ass down here?’ Elvis challenged, not bothering to respond to the officer who had been speaking to him. There wasn’t much point, it wasn’t as if he’d stopped staring at Austin throughout the entire conversation.

‘I assumed that was clear in the warrant you were served,’ Austin said. Elvis’ glare deepened and his jaw tightened at the whiff of snark but Austin merely smiled and said, ‘but we can get to it anyway.’

Elvis watched as he shifted in his seat, opening up a manila folder and scanning through it as he produced a pen from his pocket. He moved slow, as if he was doing paperwork at his desk and not interrogating a suspect and Elvis watched him angrily waiting for him to speak.

‘Can you tell me where you were on May thirtieth?’ he said once he’d finally settled himself.

‘Ain’t I already told you?’ Elvis sneered.

‘I’m asking again,’ Austin said, tight but firm.

‘That dead kid ain’t nuthin’ to do with Kings,’ Elvis sneered.

‘That’s not what I asked,’ Austin replied, again his tone teetering on the edge of snark. Elvis glared at him but glanced towards his lawyer who had remained quiet through the entire thing, no doubt wanting Elvis to take charge before he made any decisions as everyone else seemed to do.

‘If you could provide some information that’s probably for the best,’ Hank muttered into Elvis’ ear, making his jaw tighten further.

‘At home,’ he said, his voice tight and low.

‘All day?’ Austin asked.

‘I went to the club,’ Elvis said.

‘That’s Kings night club, correct?’ Austin said.

‘Yes,’ Elvis replied, his tone dripping with resentment at having every little detail pulled from him. His irritation was also mounting at the way the detective was scribbling notes every time he spoke as though his word wasn’t trustworthy enough. It may have been a long time since anyone didn’t bend to his whim but it had been even longer since someone had failed to take his word as gospel.

‘And what time was that?’ Austin asked.

‘About eight, eight thirty,’ Elvis replied.

‘What did you do when you got there?’ Austin probed.

‘What I always do,’ Elvis said, sighing as Austin said nothing but raised an eyebrow, ‘it was a Friday right? So I watched the new acts, had some drinks and then went into my office to do some paperwork and calls.’

‘And someone can verify that?’ Austin challenged.

‘Just about everyone who was in the damn club,’ Elvis snapped, heaving a sigh as Austin merely looked at him as if waiting for specifics, ‘Sam, Sam Thomspon, my bartender. He was on that night so I guess he can verify I was there.’

‘What time did you leave?’ Austin said, jotting another note on his piece of paper.

‘About one am,’ Elvis said.

‘Alone?’ Austin challenged.

‘No,’ Elvis said with contempt, ‘I have drivers. And bodyguards.’

‘And their names?’ Austin asked.

‘Haven't you already spoken to my entire staff?’ Elvis scoffed, rolling his eyes as Austin failed to bite once more, ‘Jerry Schilling, Red West, Sonny West.’

‘And they left with you?’ Austin asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Where did you go?’ Austin asked.

‘Home,’ Elvis replied, his eyes flicking to the pen that had stalled, curious as to why his answer was not immediately being jotted down in the file in front like all the others.

‘You didn’t drop them off first?’ he asked. Elvis scoffed, ‘they wouldn't be good bodyguards if they left me on my own now would they.’

‘Guess not,’ Austin smiled, with a glint in his eye that Elvis didn’t care for. Neither was the way he added another layer of suspicion as he asked, ‘and they’ll verify this?’

‘Yes,’ Elvis grunted.

Austin nodded, flicking through his file for a second before he looked at his colleague, the lawyer and then back at Elvis as if he was checking they were all listening before he started, whatever question he wanted to ask appearing significant though Elvis didn’t know why as it was only, ‘how long did it take you?’

‘What?’ Elvis asked. The questions had been trivial enough but this seemed to border on the edge of banality. Like he wanted Elvis to spell every single detail out for him. He could tell by the accent that this Butler guy was not a native Memphian and so he might not know the streets well enough to guess but he was getting sick of having to hold the guy’s hand through this entire process. Whenever he’d dealt with Memphis’ boys in blue before it had never been this formal. Over the years there’d been cursory visits but it was normally uniforms who took his word at face value. Anything else was usually dealt with by the Colonel who normally spared him facing the inside of a police station unless it was being angled as a publicity stunt. Now he was starting to sweat, beads of perspiration forming between his shirt and his hairline as piercing blue eyes watched him.

‘That time of night it's got to be ten, fifteen minutes max to get from the club to your house right?’ Austin asked.

‘I guess,’ Elvis said, trying to keep his wariness from his tone.

‘But you left the club at one ten am, we got that from your CCTV, yet your gate camera only clocked you getting back home at two fifty-three am. Where were you for an hour and forty-three minutes?’ Austin asked, his eyes set on Elvis’ face. But it wasn’t just him watching him. Everyone was and he suddenly realised this was not what he’d thought it was. He wasn’t holding this guy’s hand; this guy was laying the foundations to trip Elvis up.

He didn’t know why he’d been so stupid. Annoyed sure but that was because trouble never usually hung around this long. Problems in Elvis Presley's world were dealt with the moment they raised their head. Sure people asked questions but they usually knew it wasn’t worth digging any deeper than the surface level. Of course he had heard this Butler guy had been digging but he had figured it was just because he was too green to know better. Too ambitious, he’d had lower-level guys in the club like it before. They just needed to be put in their place. Now it was too late because he’d got him boxed into a corner. And both of them knew it.

It was why he didn’t probe. He just sat there, allowing the silence to fester until one of them got uncomfortable enough to speak. Only it was Elvis’ lawyer who hesitated first, mumbling to his client, ‘if you could explain that it’d help.’

Elvis cleared his throat and sniffed, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance as he shrugged and said, ‘we went for burgers.’

‘Where?’ Austin asked pointedly.

‘Louie’s.’

‘And your friends, sorry bodyguards, will confirm that?’ Austin asked.

‘Yes,’ Elvis said.

‘Hmm,’ Austin said dismissively and though he was trying to remain cool Elvis couldn’t help but bite, grunting a ‘what?’ before he could stop himself.

‘Nothing,’ Austin said casually, ‘it's just I don’t see how you had the time.’

‘An hour is plenty of time to get a burger,’ Hank the lawyer protested.

‘Maybe but it's not enough time when you’re across town murdering someone,’ Ausitn challenged.

‘You think I murdered the kid?’ Elvis scoffed.

‘I’m sure you did,’ Austin said, leaning forward in his seat, ‘in fact I think you saw Tony leave his shift at one and you followed him home. Now admittedly he stopped for a pizza so whether you headed back to his place and waited or sat outside the pizza parlour I’m not sure but I’m sure you showed up at his apartment. And when you knocked on the door and he opened it and saw his boss, well, who wouldn’t invite them in. He even gave you a drink.’

‘Speculation,’ Hank protested.

‘Not exactly,’ Austin corrected, ‘you see we have your fingerprints on a half-drunk glass of scotch in Tony's apartment and considering it wasn’t moved it’s safe to assume it was being used just before he died.’

Again the silence festered, a satisfied Austin not bothering to prod as the blows landed better than he’d anticipated. But John must’ve been feeling uncomfortable which prompted him to ask, ‘can you explain that?’

‘Maybe he doesn’t clean his glasses very often,’ Elvis said.

‘So you were there at some point?’ Austin challenged, suppressing a smirk at the irritated grunt Elvis made, ‘or am I to believe that he left two glasses of whiskey on the side for what a week? A month? That he never touched or moved them leaving your prints perfectly unsmudged? The same way I’m supposed to believe that he left his freshly bought pizza on the side or left his mail unopened. No, I think the two of you had a drink and a conversation and then for some reason you blew his brains out, which is crazy considering you didn’t even know the kid ten minutes ago.’

Elvis said nothing.

‘So come on, what happened?’ Austin probed. Elvis glared at him but Austin didn’t relent. He stared back, challenging him to say something, anything though he didn’t see what he could say that wouldn’t muddy his defence even more. After a moment Elvis muttered, ‘no comment.’

‘Oh come on!’ Austin laughed, ‘you’ve been happy to run your mouth up to now what’s the matter? Afraid you’re going to tell the truth for once? Or are you going to tell me that your prints being in the apartment of a dead guy you don’t know is all coincidence?’

Elvis stayed silent.

‘Just like you leaving right after him must be. Just like your alibi not matching all your little friends is,’ Austin smirked, leaning closer as Elvis’ gaze snapped up at the mention of an alibi. Of course he’d known that all this mounted to an alibi but he hadn't anticipated he’d be one step ahead, ‘you know we asked your pals where you were that night. And they confirmed you left together and that you went straight home. No burgers. No stopping. No nothing. Is that coincidence too?’

The room was deathly quiet and all of a sudden Elvis was feeling rueful he was such an impatient man. He hated that everyone tried to bend to his will or that no one felt as though they could make decisions for him. If he wasn't maybe they would have found a lawyer who wasn’t too scared to jump in and fix this mess. If he wasn’t maybe he wouldn’t have friends so eager to defend him in their haste they’d landed him in hot water. If he wasn’t maybe he wouldn’t have been so relaxed about this whole thing being pushed under the carpet. He wouldn’t have underestimated this detective. He wasn’t fool enough to think that the whole justice system would bend to the will of the king of Memphis but it had been so long he had become acclimatised to expecting it.

And this guy was a force to be reckoned with. No one had spoken but he kept pushing as if he could niggle something out of the other man if he kept needling, ‘let me guess it’s a coincidence the type of gun used was the same make and model of one you own.’

‘Have you got the gun?’ his lawyer asked, finally making some traction in ‘defence’.

‘No,’ Detective Melling admitted, ‘we don’t…the gun box at your house was empty.’’

‘Then I don’t see how that incriminates my client,’ Hank replied.

‘You don’t think it’s odd that the week we come looking around your clients house for a gun he owns is the same week said gun up and vanishes from your clients possession,’ Austin challenged.

‘I own a lot of guns,’ Elvis said, trying to keep his voice confident though it lacked conviction.

‘And?’ Austin asked, ‘let me guess someone else used the type of gun you have and shot a guy you don’t know after you'd been in his apartment? That sound plausible to you?’

‘I think you’ve got scraps of evidence and you’re adding them together hoping for a good story,’ Elvis spat.

‘Elvis,’ Hank warned.

‘Scraps?’ Austin rebuffed, ‘we’ve got proof you were there, the last one to see him, and he was shot with a gun just like one you own which coincidentally is missing now. Not to mention how you’ve tried to throw off the scent by being cagey as hell and yet you still haven’t managed to coordinate a decent alibi. That’s more than a good story.

‘Oh yeah and what’s the reason?’ Elvis growled, leaning forward in his seat threateningly though Austin matched him, their faces not so far apart as the tension rose, ‘why would I kill some punk kid who works for me?’

‘You tell me why you wouldn’t.’

They remained looking at one another, the ire rolling off them both until finally Austin sloped back in his chair as he looked to John awaiting him to do the rest. His partner sighed and looked to Elvis, ‘Elvis Presley I am charging you with the murder of Anthony Bowen…’

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002@sania562@caitlin1996@literally-just-elvis-fics@notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @lettersfromvenus @artlesson8892 @presleyenterprise

AUSTIN TAGS

@purejasmine @caitlin1996

[elvisabutler]

my baby's sure, his love's secure

summary: you want to trust that elvis cares. you want to trust that he'll take care of you but you're pretty sure you know better. elvis reminds you that he chose you to be his princess and that you deserve every bit of his love and every bit of his attention and money even if it's beginning to be in a little shorter supply. rating: m. pairing: austin!elvis ( 60's sde variation ) x female failed actress reader word count: 2329 warnings: sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamic. brief comparison of the reader to belle watling from gone with the wind with priscilla being a scarlett o'hara. a possible butchering of a southern accent for i fear it is hard to decide how to write one sometimes. oral ( f receiving ). mirror sex. no age difference implied, but sugar baby situations do end up leaning that way sometimes. elvis's money troubles. author's note: so welcome to my triple dip for day five: praise kink with sd elvis, specifically 60s austin elvis. so, @sassy-ahsoka-tano when i posted my list just missed out on getting this day and it went to jerry schilling which was fine we all loved that fic. however she had requested either sugar daddy austin or sugar daddy elvis. and i wrote sugar daddy austin the same day as the jerry piece but toyed with writing this one. finally settled on something i liked and well y'all get this. normal rules apply, imagine your brand of elvis, i did a weird mishmash of real ( mentioning stay away joe ) and austin for setting, but you choose, i'm not picky. hope y'all enjoy. and see i did say i was working on something else today.

Acting doesn't always pan out, that's one of the regrettable things you've realized over the years. For every Vivien Leigh and Ann Margret there is at least ten girls like you. It shouldn't be so heart wrenching when it happens but it had been your dream since all your mama and daddy could afford was a picture every few months. You had given it a nice go of it, gotten a few tiny tiny parts, nothing to write home about- and you didn't. Truly, if nothing else what your attempts at stardom had given you was Elvis. Though given might have been a strong word, his attention always split between you, the Colonel and the others. You could take his wife, that one came with the territory, you supposed, even though it made you feel a bit like the Belle Watling to her Scarlett O'Hara nowadays with your job and her making him seem oh so respectable. Poor Southern girls don't make good Hollywood wives for formerly poor white trash Southern boys, but sweet girls he found in the army apparently do. But it was the ones that weren't you or Priscilla that sometimes got to you. The film flings- the ones that shouldn't matter because Priscilla and you share his heart with his daughter. But Priscilla has a ring and a house and- you've got an apartment that you spend more money on than you ought to for someone who claims to have a good chunk of her life financed by The Elvis Presley.

Truth be told Vernon knows when he talks Graceland and Elvis Presley Enterprise finances that that he has to tell Priscilla just by virtue of her being Elvis's wife, but telling you? That shouldn't be a thing and yet- and yet you're the second call. You're the one having Vernon pour over every expenditure in your kitchen to see if there's anything Priscilla and him missed. There isn't and you know that means that Elvis's finances are as bad as they looked at first glance. You hear Vernon murmuring about not being able to pay security and having to sell a horse or several to cover the costs of Graceland and your apartment and you wave him off.

"Don't worry 'bout the apartment, Vernon- I'm- I can pay for my own apartment. One less thing, you can probably keep at least one o'the horses. Don't need security, either." You'd like it, after all it wasn't exactly a secret that you were Elvis Presley's sugar baby but you also would prefer Elvis to be able to not worry about Graceland getting overrun by overzealous fans or Elvis himself being overrun by them. Sacrifices had to be made, besides, you could handle yourself. You can handle bits of yourself that he's been handling when his films were doing well.

It's another week before you get the opportunity to visit him on set, you think the film is called Stay Away, Joe, and while you're willing to look past a lot of things when it comes to Elvis, the look he has while on set isn't necessarily one of them. You have to bite back a laugh when you see him for the first time and when he hears the laughter, he turns, looking like he's about to tear into whoever is laughing before his face softens, realizing it's you. He motions for you to head to his trailer with a tilt of his head that he can easily play off as just twitching on camera.

You would prefer to immediately talk to and see him but as always the universe has other plans. Elvis leaves you hanging for a good twenty minutes before finally making his way into the trailer, a smile on his face that lights up the air around him before it dims just a little bit at seeing the dress you have on. Once inside he pulls you close to him and moves his finger around a simple signal to get you to twirl which you readily oblige him with.

"Look at you, dressin' up in that pretty little dress that I know I didn't buy ya." He plays with the strap humming as he does, not sliding it down but just running the fabric through his fingers. "Tryin' to show me I don't need to spoil ya? Tryin' to show me ya don't need a diamond necklace on that pretty neck of yours?"

You nod slowly, licking your lips as your stance straightens up. "You don't need to be havin' a sugah baby who can take of herself. Still got my job, Daddy."

His laugh almost confuses you before you realize that he's doing it purely because he thinks what you said is the most hilarious thing. "Ever think that's why I let ya keep it? Hate the damn thing but- it's serving its purpose now. Keepin' you above water while I'm tryin' to get you everythin' and get things sorted. It's keepin' ya from finding someone else in this town. Don't realize how many of 'em want ya. Don't realize how I gotta hear the whispers."

You swallow and lean forward a little, your body moving almost on instinct. "What kinda whispers?"

"'Bout how they all wish you had caught on in the movies. How they wish you were their leading lady or their darlin'." His hand moves to push down the strap of your dress, kissing your shoulder blade as he does. "'Bout how I've got this gorgeous woman in my bed. Bein' my baby."

A hum escapes your lip as you sigh, tilting your neck to the side to expose it for more access. "Your favorite baby?"

The answer is obvious, you know it is and so does Elvis but he catches on with what you want with a smirk, pulling down the other strap of your dress as he continues to kiss your neck, "Ain't another girl who can make m'feel like you do. 'Cilla- She's pretty close but you know how perfect I think ya are. Brilliant ya are, havin' that head for numbers I never got."

Your eyes move to the mirror, eyeing your reflection and shivering just a tad. You can see the look of pleasure starting to seep into your eyes, see how your chest is starting to rise and fall just a little bit quicker than it had been. "Haven't had that much time f'me, Daddy. Been making me take care of myself. Makes a girl think ya don't want her."

Perhaps you shouldn't poke the bear like that but it's true, you've been feeling pretty neglected, feeling like he doesn't want you, that he's tired of you because all you really are beyond the occasional- okay, relatively frequent- reassurances that you're a bit more, is a sugar baby, one who holds a bit more power than most you figure, but you are not his wife and you are not his girlfriend. You're someone he spoils in exchange for your company and well, neither one of you had been holding up your end of the bargain.

Elvis can't help but raise a brow at you and purse his lips. There's a part of him that wants to argue, wants to tell you that no one told you that you had to take care of yourself, that he was fine paying for part of the apartment but he knows that you're right. That he's been so busy trying to balance keeping everyone happy and fed and comfortable that he forgot about you. Forgot about one of three people he should care about the most. Instead he hums and starts to sink to his knees. You hands find purchase in his hair, trying to pull him back up with you own raised brow. "What're ya doing, 'Vis?"

"Makin' sure my girl knows how much I want her." He answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world as he starts to bunch up your dress, exposing your underwear clad cunt to his eyes. You're a little embarrassed that despite the fact that Elvis has barely touched you that your panties are slowly becoming soaked. You figure that it's just his effect on people but then you realize that maybe it's because you've missed his touch. You're so enraptured in looking at him that you don't register that he's still talking. "Look in the mirror, darlin'."

A response back, a retort back is on your tongue, you weren't going to look at him while he did whatever he planned on doing but you want to see what he's planning for once so you look at him through the mirror only to see him grin. "That's m'good girl. M'sugar."

The shiver that goes through your body, the way you clench around nothing at those words as you see his eyes boring into you through the mirror. It's nothing you haven't seen before but there's something different about hearing him say those words and looking at you like that reflected at you. His fingers hook under your underwear, slowly pulling it down as he groans seeing your wet cunt exposed. "Soaked for me already. So responsive, best at giving me what I want to see. Not like 'Cilla but in another way. Always so wet for me. So ready for me to do whatever I want." His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he leans down, placing a kiss to the outer lips of your cunt. A whimper leaves your lips against your will, earning a small chuckle from him. "Make the noises, darlin'. Sing like a pretty bird. Sing like Ann did for me."

Your lip curls up into a bit of a snarl that doesn't even get out of your mouth before you feel Elvis's tongue between your folds giving you little kitten licks. You figure he wants you to keep your eyes on the mirror, because you've done something similar to this once before and that was the rule, no taking your eyes off of you and him. You had broken it then but now, but now knowing that he's giving you attention you've been craving, that praises seem to be falling off his lips so easily, you can't help but force yourself to keep staring.

You can hear him murmuring against your clit and against your cunt in general. The words are slightly drowned out a bit by your own sighs and whimpers and murmurs of his name but you still catch them just by virtue of being so intune to his voice. "My gorgeous woman, my head strong woman. Always wantin' t'make sure I'm takin' care of. Don't need me but ya let me keep ya. Let me spoil ya when I can. Deserve everythin' I wanna give ya. Deserve to have a palace. Deserve to have ya own Graceland."

Your hand that's been in his hair has been trying to control how his tongue moves against your clit and how his nose brushes up against it when he moves to your cunt, the noise of your arousal making an almost sickening squishing noise. That hand tightens its grip as he starts to fuck you with his tongue, seemingly wanting to bring you to orgasm before he heaps any more praise on you, any more promises of what he wants to give you. You're not complaining, in fact, as you watch yourself you see the pleasure he's bringing you written on your face. Written in how your mouth stays open, noises erupting from it with no way to stop them. You want to pull his mouth away from your cunt and your clit but then he nips at your clit, a sensation you hate normally but in this moment you swear you see white. The urge to tilt your head back, to look up to the sky as if to pray for forgiveness for how hard you're orgasming is but you force yourself to stay looking at Elvis between your legs. Your legs are shaking just a bit and as Elvis pulls away you can see a smile on his lips. You want to taste yourself on him but he won't let you pull him up to your face just yet.

"You kept looking." It's not a question, it's a statement from Elvis as he looks into the mirror and a new burst of arousal starts to unfurl in your abdomen. "And you made all those pretty noises."

You nod slowly. "I did. Did I do good?"

His fingers move play with you, fingers slipping in between your folds with ease and earning a hiss and a low groan from you. "You did great. Did exactly what I asked you to do. You don't always but when it matters you do. And even when you don't- it's for a good reason. Like you making sure my other two girls are protected. Makin' sure I can keep the house I bought for my mama."

It's then that you have to shut your eyes, the fact that he's praising you for making the sacrifice making you a bit more emotional than you expected. You hear him sigh, feel him kiss your thigh before he speaks again. "I'm gonna get you set up again soon enough, promise, darlin'. Gonna make sure you get your reward beyond this."

"You promise?" Your voice is softer than normal but you know he can hear it. "I'll actually have ya payin' for the apartment again?"

"The apartment, every single dress, every bit of jewelry. Maybe even that new car I know you've been eyein'." Each word is punctuated by a kiss before he stops and looks up at you. "Let me give you more of a reward right now? And I'll be by the apartment tonight?"

You pull him up for a kiss. "I guess I can. Just as long as ya keep tellin' me what a good girl I am. Only the best girl for you."

[everythingelvispresley]

Don’t know what to make of this but if true well done to Elvis Presley Enterprises. Priscilla needs to stop living off Elvis. It’s not right in my opinion.

[pinkcaddyconfessions]

I hope Elvis Presley Enterprises sues the living daylights out of Trump! Out of all the songs, you pick “If I Can Dream”. Elvis would have hated the Cheeto man with a fiery passion!!

[shmilestprower]

Warning: The headcanons described have heavily detailed torture, graphic content, blood and abuse, including drug usage and mentions of murder/suicide are in here. So turn away if you're uncomfortable.

Final Boss Engaged.

Secret History Tails (The Final Boss/The High Chief)

The Final Boss Has Arrived.

"The Final Boss" Miles 'Tails' Prower (Secret History Tails)

Headcanons:

- Tails is the current ruler and heir to a eldritch, primordial, unhinged and nightmarish royal family and dynasty. The Prower royal family has it's name drenched in sadism, manipulation, perfection, conquest, murder, winning, succeeding, omnicide, sin, cover-ups, elitism, superiority, money, power, control, empires, corporations, businesses, abuse, fear, mutilation, genocide, blood, inciting wars, torture, being the alpha, tyranny, sacrifice, evil and indoctrination, alongside a totalitarian regime, wrath, envy and mass omnicide. Every atrocity possible.

- He became the current heir and ruler to the Prower royal family, after his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather Maximilian Von Prower, who was a self-centered misanthropic, eccentric and twisted warlord and murderer. Someone so depraved, cruel, power-absorbed and vicious, he was shot repeatedly, cut his hands off, mutilated to where he was still alive. And then, slightly burnt alive. Then, they lobotomized Maximilian and pulled his brain out, for a pack of rabid dogs to eat his corpse. Something Tails loathed entirely.

- Enjoys country, bluesy and Elvis Presley music. And will insult and mock people through concerts, some of these concerts are decorated with hanging heads from chains, literal intestines and hearts. And will use macabre jokes.

- As punishments for not listening, he'll chug a whole water bottle and spit in Amy's face.

- Whilst he was bullied, he began using their tactics against him. And repeatedly stalked them, along with having literally almost crushed one's head in, another bully believed he was the Devil Incarnate. After Tails justified himself.

- Amy is constantly emotionally mentally, domestically and psychologically abused. He also had cut out her flesh, hence her look in TSAA Part 4. And has physically abused her as well, for punishments.

- Knuckles, after POST-TSAK is his pet. And his enforcer, which works well. As he is a mass-murdering eldritch mechanical beast.

- Used a chainsaw to rip Blaze apart, as she watched her house be burned by Amy and Knuckles.

- Mildly autistic with somewhat epilepsy, and has mild ADHD. Along with a learning disability and a unique case of lupus. But he often harasses people, like repeated calling their phone.

- He has spies, mangled beyond comprehension but still alive. And yet in pain and suffering watching Mario's regime, and reporting everything back. And he was the real mastermind behind Harry Potter becoming a egomaniacal, perverted bully with a taste of hookers. The Wizards are slaves to him.

- Owns a entire slaughterhouse, where he sometimes uses for humans, alternate universe versions of himself, Sonic or other characters. He emotionally, physically, mentally, psychologically abuses them. Having driven one version of Sonic to commit suicide by hanging. As he constantly swears, cusses and was trash talking with profanity. Sells blood off as wine and the meat as extra-special.

- Can freely move between different levels and planes of reality and existence.

- He is a gourmet chef, and will cook humans. Feeding Knuckles, and reluctantly Amy.

- Is never seen around without Cosmo. Ever, at all. And if he is, he's stalking her or observing her from one of his, or his family's enterprises.

- He loves to spoil Cosmo, gifting her mamy gifts. Sometimes in really grim ways, like a bloody and somehow, still beating heart. He constantly spam texts her, constantly asking whether she is ok, where she is, what's she doing or if she's thinking about him.

- Is quadrupedal, sometimes and will cannibalize other foxes. Tearing flesh apart, or cutting it up, sometimes he will put foxes on meat hooks to prolong their suffering.

- Very indeterminate and knowledgable, as it is almost impossible to describe Tails, or his bloodline in a knowledgeable and comprehensible way.

- Supersedes everything above him including narratives and himself. Can warp reality, and is immune to anti-metaphysical fields. He also can alter events through time, Cream's neck was crushed by his boot and he skinned half of her face. Eating the flesh and muscle, saving her body and flesh for "special occasions". Being a immensely powerful entity.

- Has a highly aggressive, very active, strong and deadly local reality, specifically in the form of temporal and spatial distortions surrounding him. These distortions are occasionally accompanied by random, violent outbursts that may dramatically shift or damage local space and time. Spatial and temporal distortions are irreversibly fatal.

- Stole all of Sega's profits, to further expand and build his regime. Just because he's greedy and envious.

- He wraps one of his tails around Cosmo, like a snake. He's also masochistic.

- His bullies are currently in a pocket dimension, being tortured the same way he was. And how he manipulated Amy to kill Sonic.

- Smokes weed and drinks Tequila, pre-SHOSAT. Before inheriting Maximilian Von Prower's estate, he was at 4 mental asylums. And psychiatric wards.

- Gamer, able to bigger his empire and enterprises. Along with his mother company Miles 'Tails' Prower Enterprises whilst playing video games.

- Japanese-German, American and possibly European. Along with being fluent in every language, a master spy and master in espionage.

- His mother was The Isdal Woman, and his father was a BND agent who had been in and out of jail, and security prisons. He died in a gunfight with the National Guard and FBI agents.

- Cracked Eggman's head open,exposing his brain and torched him alive, Eggman is paralyzed. Having his spinal cord cut, Tails currently has him strung up by wire and cable by two fences. Whilst his flesh falls apart and blood leaks, some of which Tails drinks. Keeping Eggman alive.

- PURE EVIL. A cruel, vile, cold-blooded and ruthless monster.

- His chain around his neck came from his mother, so he cherishes it very deeply.

- Due to his unique nature, he is highly egotistical and has a superiority complex. Calling himself The Final Boss, as he sees himself as the ultimate ruler to his bloodline. Tails gloats about his family legacy, and himself. Being narcissistic, and megalomaniacal. Sometimes, he will literally enforce Amy to listen to his family's history, if she threatens his life.

- He is so extremely abusive, controlling, cruel and sadistic that he is naturally, genuinely actually and more evil than Dr. Eggman, being completely devoid of the sympathetic element. He believes sacrifices must be made to achieve power. Nothing is off limits for The Final Boss, from expelling his own family. To asserting himself as a fox who believes he has surpassed Sonic. He keeps a meat grinder where he often will chop his victims up, and will use the kitchen to process the meat. He also has made Sonic bleed. He knows he's a horrible person, but he doesn't give a shit.

- Amy has repeatedly seen hanging corpses in a meat locker, most victims are still alive. Tails often laughs. Even worse so, he has a cruel, sick, morbid and dark, twisted sense of humor. If it could be called that, such as him asking Amy if she liked what she saw about his victims. And he claims he's been meaning to "check back in' with Silver, implying he's ready to murder the psychokinetic hedgehog.

- He also treats Sonic and Amy less than friends and more of test subjects, as he calls them a series of fine specimens. As if they're just a line of cattle, he's been grooming and ready to slaughter at the right moment.

- With Cosmo, he is OBSESSIVE. She is a divine entity in his eyes, he will be outside her door. Or window, no matter the sun or the moon. Stalking her. He is just grateful to have her in his world, as he gives her all the affection. And doesn't treat her like she's cattle. He also likes to think he sees things, and himself in her.

- Uses lingo and idioms like "boy" and "riding off into the sunset".

- His tongue is a bioluminescent long tongue, and his saliva is constantly changing shape and coloration.

- Very flirtatious and alert, sometimes making out with Cosmo. Bisexual as fuck, he will make suggestive remarks sometimes. As he slowly tortures them, using different weapons.

- Easily irritated by Amy, seeing her only as that whiny daughter. Tails also has taken over his primordial and eldritch bloodline's estate, wealth and businesses. Creating his own, some businesses have mutilated corpses in boxes.

- He will kill anyone who has flirted or touched Cosmo, and sometimes he will rip their organs out. As he is extremely homicidal (he has over 300 charges right now)

- He takes great sadistic enjoyment in beating others. Viciously bearing others and being gruesome, bloody even, with a belt like a dog and beating "the piss" out of them savoring the moment and prolonging the torment, claiming this is what happens when they "fuck with The Final Boss". Tearing the skin, tearing the flesh, even demanding those who like Sonic more than him look at their so-called hero. He also demands no one touches his women. Being criminally insane. He is a power-hungry, money-hungry Corporate villainous overlord who uses his authority and influence over Amy to ensure she listens to him.

- Runs a illegal honey badger fighting ring, much to PETA and animal rights activist groups' disliking. The badgers are in a constant state of a berserk mode, insane and angry, because Tails feeds them drugs, from his drug empire. And cut-up honey badger.

- His relationship with Amy is more of a friend and friend or daughter and father relationship, he finds her easily annoying. But could listen to Cosmo all day.

- Knows every single aspect of Trevor Henderson's lore, Hello Neighbor lore, FNAF lore and Bendy lore. Will explain it to Amy every fucking time he gets.

- Amy is like his sadistic assistant.

- Has no fear, and will disrespect the dead. Because he doesn't believe in ghosts.

- His beach resort has a section where the "water" is actually just the melted and liquified remains of the family that used to live there and everyone who stood in his area. His guards there, are fucking Wendigos and Skinwalkers.

- Engages in deals and bets with dark web fanatics and black market individuals.

- Agent of Chaos, sometimes he will imprison a victim. Adding to their suffering, and toying with them. Sometimes peeling the skin away, or licking their sweat.

- Calls Sonic fans who think he's a coward or worse than Sonic "so entitled, obnoxious and brash." Remarking how some of them have sex, but they gotta pay cash. He is obsessed with making Sonic bleed, saying how there's some lines you just don't cross, and they all can kiss the ass of The Final Boss.

- Makes chili dogs and sandwiches out of his own kind, and victims. Condiments are blood. Mustard is included as well, Tails' favorite drink is Cabernet Sauvignon 2018 or '2017.

- Can shapeshift into literally anything he wants, like a squid-like Lovecraftian monster, a mass of energy and matter to a amorphous multi pointed star of a bright white material.

- He celebrates holidays way too fucking early, it could be only the 29th or 30th of November, and he's gonna have a fucking Christmas tree and the whole house set up. Ready for Christmas, it could be June 18th, and he's gonna be ready for Fourth of July.

- HUGE mama's boy, he calls his mother the protector of their family, the guiding force even when his father died. And a trail blazer, his immense respect and deep love for his mother goes so far where he visits her grave at Møllendal, Bergen. And he sees her, in his eyes and his heart. She was the real Final Boss.

- Has been to Hollywood, and is best friends with The Rock. As Tails looks up to, and idolizes him, seeing him as the brother Sonic never could be. To him, Sonic is deadbeat. And he is finally number one.

After all, if you smell what The Final Boss..

Is Cookin'.