#its name is elvis

[why-the-heck-not]

We aren't gonna talk abt what happened to Elvis 2.0 (straight up forgot I had that going). It's Elvis 2.1 now

[purpleskelet0n]

thank you all so much for participating! this was so much fun and really makes me want to start a blog, Elvis sends love to all of you, but for now, he's got a friend to meet up with. (based on rps!)

(Stanley owned by @visillantopng ! STRICTLY PLATONIC, NOTHING ABT SHIPPING PLS IT MAKES US RLLY UNCOMFORTABLE.)

[azuzula]

💙the johperetta playlist💜 (spotify)

you’re so vain - carly simon

i walk the line - johnny cash, the tennessee two

louisiana woman, mississippi man - loretta lynn & conway twitty

trouble - elvis presley

that’s what i like about you - trisha yearwood

great balls of fire - jerry lee lewis

show me - the resonant rogues

poison ivy - the coasters

heartbreaker - pat benatar

red headed woman - sonny burgess

crazy on you - heart

a big hunk o’ love - elvis presley

valerie - amy winehouse

tallahassee lassie - freddy cannon

[inhidingxoxo3637]

Acosta is the sylvanian family mole

THE MOLE FAMILY ARE CALLED THE MCBURROWS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[real-ponyboy]

[OOC]

Just found out my bunny is a boy…After a yr of having him. 😄

Renamed him Presley because our other Bunny's name is Cash ‼️‼️‼️🥳🥳🥳🥳

[thatbanditqueen]

I miss you Norah baby 😘

-Daisy (@powerofelvis)

Oh helllo there ! Did I just see that a new chapter of Aloha to my Heart is coming? Or the writing game prompt? I feel like we have all been deprived for so long I might have a stroke if you release something...

[teamseaslug]

Trisha Paytas' babies news coincidentally timing with political figures dying is fucking awesome btw

[elvismentions]

meet Elvis.... what a distinguished young gentleman

[diana-westmoon]

MIE I LITERALLY STARTED WATCHING TMA JUST TODAY!!!!!!

YIPPIE!!

WHICH EP ARE YOU ON? :0

[septembersghost]

in a timeline where Elvis had been in good health and lived longer or even was still alive! what do you think might've happened with his career?

this is a great question, and i love it despite it also making me unspeakably sad. obviously so many things would have to change for this to happen, and there are endless hypotheticals that can be asked about him - what if he'd gotten, and been willing to accept, help with the pills and his other struggles, what if he hadn't been trapped in vegas, what if he'd left parker, what if he had had the chance to make dramatic pictures and choose/record more music that inspired him rather than the movies and soundtracks he ended up having to do for so long, what if he hadn't been drafted, what if his mother hadn't died when she did - any one of these changing potentially changes the whole course of his life. but let's say nothing is different except he's healthier and survives. keep in mind elvis would've only been 45 in 1980, and, all things being equal, his voice would still have been strong and clear and beautiful. i don't think he's the type of person who ever would've wanted to stop creating and performing. the 80s gets us into an interesting time with music, disco fizzles out, a bunch of fresh rock and pop and country sounds rise and flourish, hip-hop begins to enter the mainstream. another big thing that happened was the revitalization of broadway, with particularly flashy, sweeping musicals. barbra streisand, who'd primarily been recording various forms of pop as it shifted for a good decade or so, along with her successful film soundtrack music, returned to her roots and released the broadway album in 1985 (one of my albums of all-time), when el would've been 50, and it was seen as a gamble, but turned out to be a huge hit. elvis may not have been a musical theatre performer in that sense, but he had a natural affinity for drama and flair, so it'd be cool to know if he would've taken to any of that or incorporated aspects of it (in my head, he'd totally enjoy the phantom of the opera). the rock sounds, the r&b, the fusions in pop and country, all of that would've piqued his interest, i think, because he was so passionate about music and was so skilled (and such a sponge for it across genres) at adapting it. so he could've experimented with new sonic forms, kept expanding his abilities and repertoire. i'd love to imagine that he'd have flown away out of vegas and finally gotten to tour the way he wanted. i even think he would've added innovation to the culture and music happening at the time. if he'd remained well and found creative outlets that inspired him, it's something he could've kept going on and building for a long while. i feel certain he would've done more gospel records too eventually, while still staying current at the same time. i imagine any of that would've somewhat altered how his legacy has been viewed, especially the wrongfully disparaging commentary. maybe he'd be like some of the other artists we've seen, paul, elton, bob dylan, billy joel, and so on, and kept playing well into his 70s. maybe eventually he'd have retired instead and taken time for himself (and you asked career specifically, but i hope he could've found some personal peace and love that he kept looking for too), but...part of me really does think he never could've left making music or being onstage and sharing that love and energy with an audience, as long as he was able. he would've found those songs to keep singing. which is what he did do in life. if only he'd had more time.

kind of off-topic/an aside, but i honestly believe he'd be so, so touched, and so amused regarding some things (i simply know he'd dissolve into that contagious laughter), that the young women on the internet, even a generation behind me, (after i explain the internet to him, i will tell him <3) are listening to and watching, and writing and reading about, and making countless fanvids and edits/gifs/etc for him in 2023. i hope in 2027, when he's been gone for fifty years, all the fans right now, new and old alike, still hold onto part of what they're currently experiencing. there's something indescribably wholesome about it (even in the thirst posting tbh, because it's still his power?!). i just cannot fathom any current star having this effect decades later, including the ones i adore. not because they aren't great, not because they aren't creating wonderful, lasting work, they undoubtedly are, but so much has shifted in how we absorb and keep and pass that on which alters it along the way. elvis' status as the best-selling solo artist of all time could *maybe* be broken eventually (although it's not in the foreseeable future), but it won't actually be comparable because streaming and everything within the industry has vastly changed. another difference, unfortunately, also lies in the tragedy. i hope our current young musicians have long careers and carve out happy, peaceful lives free of as much of that torment as possible, but the immense sadness and mythic rise and fall of it all are why we culturally still cling so much to certain people - as i've oft mentioned with EP, MM. to those eternally young and heartbreaking figures. if they'd experienced recovery, and lived the long, contented lives we wish they had, would we be this captivated by them now? or do we look into the abyss of their absences and hold them closer to keep them alive, to understand and feel that connective empathy? it's deeply human nature to be drawn to trying to understand the shadow of that darkness chasing their light. we want them to live and we can't give it to them, so we find ways to bring them to life instead.

i wish he was here to know how beloved he is, and i wish he was here because it would mean the trajectory of his life was far more gentle. i wish he was here to laugh with us about it and see us singing and dancing along to his music as if it was brand new, but i do believe he often looks down at us like:

[angel-blitz]

Whos more flirty in the relationship ernest or lips? 🥀

It's kind of a mix between the two, but Liver definitely wins. But Ernest is the only one that can really make him flustered, all he's gotta do is give him THAT look and livers like "oh boy"

[omanu]

.

[formula-fun]

Have u seen the redbull elvis suits? Idk if they are wearing that to the race or if its just a promo but literally wtf is that lol suddenly the ferrari blob circle thing seems nice......

I have 3 possible explanations for this because im trying to make any kind of sense of it. 1) max was so jealous of charles' monaco racesuit they made him his own white and red one and then chose a justification after the fact 2) red bull marketing is predicting a red bull/ferrari podium and want them all to look SO cute with their matching outfits 3) by choosing red and white ferrari has obviously invoked some old gods and a few spirits of drivers past to get that shitbox on the top of the board, and red bull is now fighting for favor from the same group of old gods and spirits just to ruin ferrari's weekend

honestly tho the color choice is so random and the design is so bad. why isnt it blue? why doesnt it match the car? why didn't they use the 23 elvis impersonators in the paddock as a focus group? they needed a focus group. if it didnt say elvis on it in 72pt font i wouldnt have made the connection. it is neither red bull nor is it elvis. it is simply ugly

[dumbthunder]

I really thought Viva Las Vegas was an original Richard Cheese that they made for Zac Snyder's army of the dead.

[beetleoops]

You keep getting married to Beetlejuice

This fucker loves to party (and he loves you), so you are having weddings constantly

You officially get married in private, with only Lydia, the Deetzs and the Maitlands there. You take it easy so he can adjust to being alive, but Delia still throws a pretty fun party- if a little...odd. Still, it's enough for Beetlejuice to learn his alcohol tolerance isn't NEARLY as high now that he has a heartbeat.

"Babes!! I cannot fuckin wait to get married to you all over again." He's half asleep, laying his entire weight on you, reeking of booze, smiling like a dope. "Uh-huh. Me too, Beej." You pat his back.

(Also, turns out now that he sleeps for real, he snores. you think its cute.)

Once he's human (and more or less used to it), you have a more traditional wedding with your friends and family all there, and throw an all night reception and after party at a bar - beej loves the energy and is cheering on your grandparents to throw ass on the dance floor all night

"Fuck it up Agnes! Hell yeah!" (This is probably not your grandma's name. Actually, is that even your grandma?)

This goes over not great, but better than expected; everyone has a good time. You do too, of course. You are drunk and wearing white and laughing so loud, and when you aren't dancing, Beetlejuice can barely keep his hands off you. Hell, when you ARE dancing Beetlejuice can't keep his hands off you.

you go to Las Vegas for the honeymoon and get married again - Beej insists on the most tacky wedding possible and you agree.

You get married by an Elvis impersonater in a sticky little chapel on the strip. You wear a suit, and he wears a tight, short wedding dress with a veil and pumps.

"third time's the charm?" You ask, when Elvis finally says to kiss the groom. " Oh no, babes. We're hitting the drive through wedding chapel next."

"Deal!" And you dip him before kissing him square in the mouth.

You keep getting married to Beetlejuice, because you both want to make fucking SURE it sticks.

[sissylittlefeather]

Kinktober Day 24: Dirty Picture/Video

Let Me Love You Anyway

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, cussing, kissing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, body insecurity, erectile dysfunction

Word Count: ~3k

Kinktober Masterlist

You stand next to the stage with your little envelope just waiting for him to walk to the edge. You're not sure what you'll do if he doesn't. 

He looks out to the front couple of rows as Love Me Tender plays behind him, trying to decide who he wants to kiss, if anyone. Truth be told, he's getting a little tired of the whole thing. He's 40 years old and kissing strangers is starting to lose its appeal. He'd rather have someone to really share something with than just a random pair of lips to smash against his and pray she doesn't try to shove her tongue in his mouth. He's scanning the crowd looking for someone who looks safe when his eyes settle on you. You've got something clutched against your chest and the way you look at him with your eyes round and hopeful takes him straight back to 1956. The girls around you are screaming, but you just stand there, almost reverential. He's intrigued by you in a way he hasn't been by a woman in a long time. 

Your heart stops as he walks directly to you at the edge of the stage and kneels down. He throws his scarf around your neck and pulls you in close, pressing his lips against yours softly. Unlike the others, you don't push for anything else. You just take what he's willing to give you and then slip the envelope into his hands. He pulls back and smiles at you and then leans forward again, kissing your cheek and whispering. 

“Thank you.” Without thinking, you kiss his cheek too and whisper back. 

“I love you.” Women are always telling him that they love him, but something about the quiet and sincere way you say it feels different. Like you might really mean it. When he backs away from you, he peeks into the envelope before handing it to Charlie and then looks up at you quickly, a smile spreading across his face. You blush and look down demurely and then back up at him, a little surprised to see that he's still looking at you with an amused grin on his face. He sneaks another peek into the envelope. 

Pictures. But not the kind of lewd, pornographic pictures he's used to from women. They're always so over the top, like the girls think they have a better chance with him the dirtier they are. But honestly, he's a little traditional. Your photos in your pink and white nightie catch him off guard. There's a touch of reality in them. It's not that you're innocent, per se, he can tell you're older than that. It's the modesty, the humility, the ladylike way you sit with your hands in your lap as you smile softly at the camera. 

“Boss, I'll take that.” Charlie comes up to him and tries to take the envelope. 

“No! I'll, uh, I'll keep this one.” He sets it on the edge of the piano, eager to get back to his room and see them up close with his glasses on. He looks back at you in the crowd where you stand with your bottom lip pulled in between your teeth. “Actually, Charlie, tell Joe I want to see that girl after the show.” 

Charlie nods, understanding the assignment and Elvis launches back into the concert. He kisses a few more women, but he never loses track of you. 

You watch the rest of the concert with his scarf on your neck, praying that he'll enjoy the gift you gave him. It's probably kind of boring in comparison to what he's used to from girls, but you've never been one to be too outrageous. He just seems sad these days and you wanted to cheer him up a little in the only way you could think of. You hope what you've written on the back of the photos isn't too cheesy. 

******

Elvis sits in his car after the show, waiting to see if Joe can deliver. While he waits, he pulls the envelope of your photos back out and takes another look. He flips it over to see if you've maybe written your name or contact information on the back, in case Joe can't find you. Instead he gasps a little and turns all the photos over to see if they have something written on them and they do. 

Poetry. You've written short poems on the back of them. Poems about him and you and the universe and the way you hope he knows how important he is. He feels the lump form in his throat and he sighs deeply, trying to keep his tears in his eyes. He says another quick prayer that Joe will be able to find you. One of his guys leans into the window. 

“EP, we gotta go. I dunno how long we can sit here waiting before they find you here and swarm the car.” 

“Just… a few more minutes. Please.” The guy nods, thinking Elvis is off his rocker staying here and waiting for a particular girl when he could order up anyone else easily. Finally, he sees Joe come down the ramp with you in tow. 

You look to Joe and then out to the limousine where it's parked at the end of the ramp. Surely this can't be real, can it? He's actually asked to see you? 

Elvis nervously rearranges himself on the seat as you reach the car door, still not quite believing he's inside. It's not until you slide into the car and look over at him that it sets in. You're in the backseat of a limousine with Elvis Presley. 

“Hi, honey. I'm Elvis. What's your name?” You're almost paralyzed with shock and he starts to wonder if this was a mistake. Then you smile and take his hand softly. 

“I'm y/n. Sorry, I just can't believe I'm really here.” He relaxes a little as you do and you both sit back against the seat. 

“Well, you did tell me you love me and hand me an envelope full of dirty pictures. Did you really think I'd let you just walk away?” He smiles teasingly. 

“Honestly? Yeah. I figured they'd be too boring for y-”

“Boring? Sweetheart, these are the sexiest pictures I've seen in a long time. And I love the poems. I can't wait to read through all of them.” He lifts the envelope to his lips and kisses it gently. You laugh softly and whisper.  

“You really like my poems?” He nods and then takes your hand in his, holding it like he's done it a thousand times before. You try not to melt, sure he's tired of girls who lose their shit around him. 

He tries to keep his hand from trembling as he holds yours. For some reason, touching you makes him feel like a teenager again. 

“If you don't mind, I'd like you to come to my hotel with me.” You blink a few times in surprise. “If not, I can have my driver take you wherever you want-”

“Elvis, I'd love to go to your hotel with you.” He breathes a big sigh of relief. You make small talk for the rest of the short car ride and he holds your hand and plays with your fingers the whole time. 

Every once in a while you chance a glance at him on the seat next to you. He's beautiful. The navy jumpsuit makes his eyes stand out and the silver phoenix gives him an almost angelic quality. One time, he catches you looking and smiles. 

“What?” Your eyes pop up to meet his behind his silver glasses. 

“What do you mean?” You try to act innocent. 

“I see you lookin’ at me. Not what you expected?” You can tell there's an edge to his voice like he's assuming you're disappointed. 

“You're just so-”

“So what?” The edge gets stronger and he puts your hand down. 

“Beautiful.” The way you say it is so sincere that he almost cries. He actually believes you. You stare into each other’s eyes for a while before he starts to lean in. He kissed you on stage, but this is different. He's almost nervous. His hand goes to your cheek and he's barely got his lips on yours when the car door opens. 

“What?!” He yells to the guy that opened the door. He's obviously annoyed with the interruption, but you giggle a little. 

“I think we're here.” You say softly and he immediately melts. He hasn't met a woman who can calm his anger in a long time. 

When you make it up to the room, he dismisses his bodyguards and leads you into the sitting area. 

“You want a drink, baby?” He's found that the girls he brings back to his room usually do. 

“No, I'm okay. You wanna change? That can't be comfortable. I'll wait out here if you want.” Your concern with his comfort reminds him of his mother for some reason and he's hit with the urge to wrap you in his arms and never let go. 

“I need a shower, but I'm exhausted.” He plops onto the couch next to you. You immediately bend over to take his boots off of him. You've always been a caretaker and something about him tells you that's exactly what he needs. 

“A bath then. I can get it ready.” He nods, unable to speak. He's completely in awe of you and your unbelievable kindness. Usually women want things from him, but you seem to only want to give. Once you've got his shoes off, you kiss his forehead and make your way to the bathroom. You're not sure what possessed you to kiss him so intimately, but it felt right. After a few minutes, you return from the bedroom. “I hope it's not too warm. And the hotel had some fancy bubbles in there, so I took the liberty of adding them. Hope that's okay.” 

You take his hands and pull him off the couch, leading him to the bathroom. He sees the effort you've put in and decides to do something a little out of his comfort zone. You turn to leave and he grabs your hand. 

“Stay.” You look up at him surprised. It wasn't your intention to do anything other than let him relax, but this sounds like a dream. 

“In the bathroom?” His thumb brushes your cheek as he looks down at you. 

“In the bath with me.” You nod and start to unzip his jumpsuit as he removes the heavy belt. When you get it down to his belly, he inhales sharply and touches your hand softly. “I'm… I don't…”

“Please?” Your eyes are warm and filled with admiration and for some reason he trusts you, so he lets you finish unzipping the suit and push it off of his shoulders and down to fall at his feet. Your eyes slip over his body and he feels the shame start to creep in, but you send it away with a single whispered word. “Beautiful.” 

Without another thought, he leans down and kisses you fully on the mouth, tasting you as his tongue dances against yours. His hands wander down to your thighs, where he grabs the hem of your dress and lifts it above your head and off, pulling you in close to him as he continues to kiss you. He opens your bra easily and pushes your panties down, reveling in the feeling of your soft, warm skin against him. 

Oh, how he'd love to make love to you, but his body doesn't seem to be cooperating. Before he can get too frustrated, though, you back away and step into the bathtub. You arrange yourself so that you're sitting behind him with your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands running over his chest. The water is the perfect temperature and the bubbles hide the parts of him that he doesn't want to see. Somehow you've made this exactly what he needs. He can feel your breasts pressed against his back as you kiss his shoulders and neck. His hands rest on your calves, moving down to your feet and back up periodically. 

“Honey, are you an angel?” You laugh softly and nip at his earlobe. 

“No, just a woman who loves you.” His words catch in his throat and he's glad you're behind him, so you don't see the single tear that escapes and slides down his cheek. “You deserve to be loved like this, Elvis.” 

He turns in the tub and pulls you onto his lap, straddling him. You smile and kiss him a few times gently and he mumbles against your lips. 

“It's hard for me to let you.” 

“I know. Let me anyway.” He nods and kisses you deeply again, pulling your hips in so that your center presses against him where he wishes he was hard. 

“I can't even-”

“I have an idea. Something that would be fun, I think.” 

“What?” You're so good at changing the subject when he needs you to. 

“Would you like to take some pictures of me?” His eyes immediately light up. 

“Can I?” You nod, giggling and he kisses you again. “I have a Polaroid camera.” 

Both of you get out of the bath and wrap yourselves in the thick, fluffy hotel robes. He goes to a black bag in the corner and pulls out a camera. Then he goes to his rack of clothing and pulls out a button down silk shirt. 

“I don't have a nightie. Would you wear this with panties?” You nod and take the shirt from him. 

“I'll wear whatever you want. You're the boss.” He giggles as you go back in the bathroom to retrieve your panties and put on his shirt. When you come back out, he swallows hard. You've taken your hair down from where it was piled on your head and it cascades around your shoulders. He can see your nipples ever-so-slightly through the silk of the shirt and he thinks to himself that you might be the sexiest thing he's ever seen. When you crawl onto the bed, he gets a full shot of your ass in your white cotton panties and has to suppress a moan. 

“What?” You smile as you position yourself on the bed. 

“Nothin’ honey, just, goddamn you're sexy.” He's so distracted by you that he doesn't even feel his dick as it begins to harden. You notice it under his robe, though, and bite your lip as he starts to snap photos. 

By the time he gets through the roll of film, you're so wet it's visible and his cock is so hard it makes a tent in the fabric. He tosses the camera onto the bed and crawls on top of you as you open the robe and push it off of him. Your heart pounds as he tears at your clothing, ruining his own shirt and throwing your panties across the room. Eager to not waste an erection, he rubs his tip on your entrance and sighs. 

“This may not… I might…”

“Elvis, hush.” You grab his hips and pull him into you, moaning loudly as he slides deep inside you. 

“Oh, fuck, honey.” He grunts and starts to grind his hips against you, slow and sensual at first and then picking up speed. He whimpers as he starts to really pound you. Sex hasn't felt like this for him in a long time. 

“Does it feel good?” You whisper into his neck. 

“God, yes. Lemme see ya, baby.” You manage to roll him over without him pulling out and start to bounce on top of him. His hands squeeze your hips, guiding your movements and his eyes are mesmerized by your breasts as they move with his thrusts. “Fuck, honey. I'm gonna cum.”

“Oh, I'm so close!” He licks his thumb and moves it to your clit, rubbing it quickly. This is one of his old moves he hasn't tried in years because the effort just hasn't seemed worth it. But with you it does. 

“That good, baby?” He's so close to a climax, he can feel it gathering at the base of his cock. 

“God, yes! Oh!!” You groan loudly as your orgasm crashes into you, making your walls thump and pulse and squeeze him as the wildfire rushes through you. 

“Yeah, baby! Fuck!” He grunts as your release pushes him over the edge too and he cums hard into you. That's also a thing he never does, but the thought of being with you for a long time doesn't scare him. It comforts him. 

You lean over onto his chest and try to catch your breath as he runs his hands up and down your back. For the first time in a long time, he's not self-conscious about anything. It's like everything outside the hotel room has ceased to exist and he's happy in this bubble with you. If it were up to him, he'd never leave. 

You look up at him with your chin on your hands on his chest and he runs his fingers through your hair. 

“Thank you.” You whisper and he frowns. 

“For what?”

“For letting me love you. Even just for tonight.” The reality that he has to leave in a few hours hits him and he closes his eyes. He smiles when he feels your lips on his cheek. 

“What if it wasn't just for tonight?” Now it's his turn to whisper. His eyes flutter open and you look at him in shock. “What if I let you love me until you didn't anymore?” 

“Then you'd let me love you forever.” 

“I'm not easy to love.” 

“I know. Let me love you anyway.” He smiles and kisses you gently. 

“Only if I can love you too.” 

“Always.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @deltafalax @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @jhoneybees @polksaladava @searchingforgravity @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @your-nanas-house @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69