#memphian theater

[presleypictures]

Candids of Elvis at the Memphian Theater (now the Circuit Playhouse) in the 1960s.

[wanderingelvis]

how about elvis & ditzy/innocent reader doing something in public?

thank you!! i don't do a lot of smut so i hope y'all like this! 🧚

🧚 masterlist 🧚 word count: 1,758

pairing: 70s elvis x innocent!ditzy!reader

warnings: fingering (f receiving), praise k!nk, overstim, public smut, daddy dom dynamics

"This bit is my favourite." You whisper adorably to Elvis, trying to be as quiet as possible and contain your sweet excitement at the scene about to play.

It wasn't uncommon for Elvis to hire out the Memphian Theater for you two and the Mafia. In fact, it was the go-to activity for you all after a long day of Elvis performing, recording or rehearsing. It was however, a bit more unusual for Elvis to let you pick the movie.

The choice was Sleeping Beauty, your favourite movie and Elvis would often call you his 'lil' sleepin' beauty' as you did indeed remind him of Princess Aurora.

Elvis smirked down at you, sat upright by his side, your big round eyes fixed on the screen as you mindlessly parted those pretty pink lips and put popcorn in your mouth, over and over again, your attention not leaving the screen as Aurora met Prince Phillip in the woods for the first time.

Knowing how transfixed his sweet little thing was, Elvis effortlessly pulled you onto his lap, your attention never wavering from the screen as you let Elvis manhandle you like his own little dolly.

Slowly, Elvis started feeding you the popcorn, as you watched the movie like a good girl. Absent-mindedly, you'd wrap your lips around Elvis' thumb or his finger as he'd place it in your mouth so you could suck the sugary sweet residue off his digits.

Truth be told, Elvis hadn't followed along with the movie since the first scene, his attention solely on you. But oh, how he adored watching you be so entertained and sweet for him.

He knew the rest of the Mafia weren't over the moon with your choice of movie, it wasn't exactly the usual Western that they were used to, but Elvis didn't care, he only cared about the sweet thing on his lap. Besides, they were a few rows back, allowing the two of you to have your own space.

All of Elvis' affectionate touches and kisses went over your head initially, your mind elsewhere, enjoying the popcorn you were being fed by the big, old man who's lap you were settled on.

It wasn't until Elvis wrapped a strong arm around your tummy, holding you in place as he shuffled in his place, letting his legs part ever so, so that your legs were now completely apart, each leg dangling over each of his, leaving your core dangerously exposed under your sweet pink skirt, that you begin to feel that funny feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Gently, Elvis' coarse, large hands toyed with the hem of your skirt, his fingers lingering ever closer to your centre. Elvis kept his arm secured tightly around you, holding you in place so you couldn't squirm about as he began to trace circles into your plush thigh.

"Um..." You murmured softly, feeling that all too familiar funny feeling from Elvis' touch.

"Uh-uh doll, no talkin' durin' the movie pretty girl." Elvis reprimanded cooly, whispering in your ear from behind and making your shiver all over, causing you to try and squirm before realising that Elvis was holding you closely to him. "Eyes on the screen lil' one." Elvis instructed, quietly delighting in teasing you.

Elvis didn't wait though before he dragged his hands up your thighs, pushing up your pretty skirt and exposing your panties to the cold air of the theatre.

You blinked sweetly, trying to keep your attention on the movie that Elvis had paid a lot to have screened for you.

It was only when you felt Elvis' fingers toy at the damp fabric between your legs that you let out another stuttered gasp, your head lolling forward ever so, at the sudden sensation.

"Such a sensitive thing, hm?" Elvis whispered into your ear at your reaction at just a mere touch.

See, Elvis was right. It didn't take much for Elvis to stimulate you, he knew you inside out and he knew exactly how to work you into overdrive, and oh how we adored watching you get all antsy and disoriented.

And of course, Elvis knew what he was doing to you. He knew exactly what he wanted to happen during the movie as soon as he'd booked it. He knew that he'd wanted to pleasure you in the darkened room as soon as your eyes went wide with delight when Elvis told about the date night. Even as Elvis held your hand and led you to the seats in the theatre, Elvis knew those hands would be somewhere else entirely within a matter of minutes.

All you knew of course, was that you were excited for the movie that in your words was "just oh so pretty!". Elvis' decidedly darker intentions with you had gone right over your sweet head.

But there you both were, your lips parted and glossy as Elvis' fingers slipped under the damp fabric and began to massage your clit, pressing his thumb onto it and applying pressure as he rubbed you in circular motions.

Elvis watched with a smirk as he felt your chest rise and fall at a quicker and more erratic pace, he relished in the power he had over you.

You began to writhe in his hold before you felt his grip get tighter around your waist, his silent sign to hold still, a sign that you instantly obeyed. But there was nothing that could stop your head falling back on his shoulder as Elvis' fingers rubbed through your glistening folds, slick coating them.

Your breathing had now become erratic with breathy pants leaving your lips as the urge to mewl at the sensation grew and grew.

"Good girl, gotta keep quiet huh?" Elvis hushed, making you want to whine but you knew you couldn't draw any attention to the pair of you. "Now, pay attention to your movie baby." Elvis said, teasing you as he knew you were struggling with even keeping your eyes open, let alone concentrating on the movie on the screen but he just wanted to make you into a little mess.

And without warning, Elvis slipped a finger into your hole, your muscles tightening around it as you whimpered softly, tears pricking at your eyes from the searing pleasure and burn of it.

"That's it, taking it like such a good girl, ain'tchu?" Elvis soothed in your ear, knowing the torment he was putting you through by not letting you moan and whine like you normally would in Graceland.

You managed a feeble nod as your wet lashes fluttered, drinking in the pleasure as Elvis stretched your walls.

"Would you like another one?" Elvis asked cooly, a gloating smile taking over his face as you quickly nodded.

"Yes." You hissed, inadvertently rocking your hips ever so slightly, getting all desperate for Elvis' touch.

But Elvis wasn't one to give up control as he swatted your side at your movements, tsk-ing at you disapprovingly.

"Uh-uh Little, you just sit tight and keep them eyes on the screen and behave." Elvis reprimanded, as he stretched you further, putting in another finger, pumping them in and out of your pretty pussy, placing gentle kisses on your cheek and neck, overstimulating you more and more by the minute.

Your face was all flushed and pink, your hands balmy as you gripped onto Elvis' strong arm that was across your tummy with one of them and continued to hold the box of popcorn tightly with the other.

Elvis quickened his pace in you, watching with intensity as he watched a tear fall from your wet lashes. "Mmm baby, yer so sweet n' soaked, ain't ya?" Elvis teased lowly, watching you furrow your brow, trying so hard to be a good girl like you'd been told and keep in the moans you wanted to desperately to let out.

At this point, you're in total bliss, you're nothing more than a dripping mess in Elvis' arms, totally succumbed to his touch and desperate for more of it.

And this is exactly why Elvis is just so in love with you. You're his little dolly, to use exactly the way he wants, whenever he wants. It doesn't matter if the entire Memphis Mafia are 10 rows behind you, it doesn't matter if this is your favourite movie that you haven't seen for years, it doesn't matter that your panties are by your ankles in the middle of the Memphian, all that matters is that you belong to Elvis.

Truth be told, despite Elvis telling you multiple times not to make a peep, he didn't actually care if anyone heard the two of you, in fact, it turned him on to know that he had this sort of dominance and power over you that everyone would know that you're his, that you listen and follow every word that comes out of his mouth, that you love him just as much as he loves you.

You can feel that 'love' underneath you too, rock hard and huge, pressing into your ass, as he continues to pump his fingers into you and you bite your lip in a desperate bid not to cry out loud.

It didn't take long for Elvis to quicken his already fast pace on you, sending you into sensory overload, not being able to cope and hold it in any more.

"Let it out f'me." Elvis soothed sternly and it wouldn't be a lie to say your vision went all blurry and starry as your mind become clouded and you felt that familiar warmth spread through your body and your pussy leaking on Elvis' fingers and pant leg.

You couldn't help but let out a gasp as Elvis removed his fingers from you and Elvis didn't reprimand you this time, knowing that all you'd been was a good girl for him.

Elvis manouvered you ever so slightly so he could grab your damp panties that had fallen to your ankles and pocketed them before you had the chance to lazily grab them, he'd give them back to you when you both arrived back to Graceland.

Elvis watched you with that shit-eating grin on his face as you blinked hazily, looking adorably dumb-founded as you sat in his lap, cum dripping down your bare leg as you looked up at him with that gorgeous, innocent gaze that Elvis could simply die for.

"You're gon' miss the movie dolly." Elvis said softly, pointing his ring clad finger at the screen, as he rubbed soothing circles in your back, knowing you'd be begging to come back to the movie theatre in no time.

[hooked-on-elvis]

Elvis with a couple of female fans at the Memphian Theater in Memphis, Tennessee. Circa June/July 1969.

He's wearing the same scarf as he was on August 1, 1969 in Las Vegas.

[vintageshanny]

Unlaced

Content: Elvis at the Memphian circa 1963, physical comfort from a fan, 18+

Darla glanced over her shoulder and sucked in her breath. Elvis had arrived! He looked even more beautiful than she remembered. An absolute dreamboat. He was wearing light blue pants, a black shirt, a black jacket, and black leather gloves, with a little boating cap on his head. She noticed that his pants had some sort of lace-up detail instead of a regular zipper. It gave her a funny feeling inside to look at that part of him. As her gaze lingered, she wondered how he looked underneath those pants, then scolded herself for the thought. She forced her eyes up to his face, which bore a somewhat sour expression as he sauntered down the aisle. Was she imagining things, or did his face light up when he spotted her?

“Darla, honey, i-i-it’s so nice ta see ya. I’m glad ya could make it.” He smiled and fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. He seemed almost nervous for some reason.

“Of course, Elvis. You were gone so long this time, I had ta come see ya first chance I got.”

“Yeah, six months is too long ta be gone from home. But I got two of those dang movies outta the way at least. I missed ya though. I-I-I mean, I missed ever’body, y’know?” Even in the darkness of the theater, Darla could see that Elvis was blushing as he smiled at her.

She returned his beaming grin, hoping that her eyes wouldn’t accidentally trail down his body again. As if to remind herself why she shouldn’t look at him like that, she asked “No Priscilla tonight?”

Elvis’ face transformed back to a slight scowl before he shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Nah, she didn’t feel like comin’. I never…” he trailed off, seeming to think better of unloading his relationship problems on a fan. “Well I’m sure glad you’re here though, honey.” He gave her shoulder a light squeeze before heading to his usual spot in the middle with his buddies.

“Hey Jerry, does Darla look different ta ya?” Elvis whispered as he removed his gloves. They both glanced across the aisle to study her. Darla quickly turned her head toward the movie screen, hoping they hadn’t caught her staring. She tried to discreetly peek back over and, to her surprise, they both seemed to be staring at her. She shifted a little in her seat, trying to focus on the start of the movie.

“I mean, I guess a little bit,” Jerry responded thoughtfully. “She’s 18 now. She’s not a little girl anymore.”

“Yeah, she seems ta have, y’know, filled out in all the right places,” Elvis murmured as he leaned forward onto the back of the seat in front of him, still unabashedly staring in Darla’s direction.

“Mm-hmm, she’s pretty,” Jerry nodded, being cautious not to overstep and ignite Elvis’ possessiveness. “She’s a sweet girl, too.”

“She really is, huh?” Elvis leaned back, deep in thought about how sweet Darla had been since she first started coming to the gate a few years ago. Always had a kind word of support, laughed at his jokes, wanted to be around him whenever she could. She’d probably never say she didn’t feel like comin’ to tha movies with me…

“I, uh, gotta take a leak,” Elvis announced just loud enough for Darla to overhear as he stepped past Jerry and out into the aisle. Darla couldn’t stop herself from glancing up as he walked by, and her eyes widened with surprise as he gave her a wink.

Darla remembered the welcome home card she had brought in her purse. She was too embarrassed to give it to him with other people watching, and this might be her only chance to catch him alone. She quietly snuck out of her chair and walked back to the lobby, where Elvis was just coming out of the bathroom.

“Elvis, I was lookin’ for ya, I, uh, I have a card for ya,” Darla stumbled over trying to find the right words to explain why she’d followed him to the bathroom, but he didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

“A card for me?” Elvis repeated. He sounded pleased and reached his hand out as Darla pulled the card from her purse.

“I’m sorry, it’s probably just silly, I mean you get things like this all the time,” Darla nervously rambled as he opened the card. To her horror, he began to read the message out loud.

“Dear Elvis, Welcome home ta Memphis. The whole city seems duller without ya. I always count the days ‘til ya return and bring the joy and laughter back with ya. I feel a lot less lonely when you’re around. With love, Darla.” Elvis looked up at Darla’s flushed face, his mouth turned up in a crooked grin. “That’s real sweet, honey. Not silly at all.”

Darla thought the world might just stop as Elvis pulled her into a warm hug. That funny feeling inside returned as she drank in the smell of his cologne and cigars.

Elvis was starting to feel a little funny himself as he felt Darla’s ample chest heaving against him. It was always flattering to make a woman’s heart race. He cleared his throat a little bit as he pulled back. “Hey, want me ta show ya somethin’ neat?” Darla nodded and followed as Elvis led the way.

First he grabbed some popcorn from the concession stand and then headed up a narrow staircase to the balcony seats. It was roped off, but Elvis just stepped over and then helped her up. He tried not to stare at her shapely legs when she had to raise the skirt of her royal blue dress a little bit to step over the rope. Elvis sat down in one of the seats and motioned for Darla to do the same. He put a finger to his lips, letting her know to keep quiet, and grabbed a piece of popcorn. Instead of eating it, he took careful aim and launched it over the balcony. It landed directly on Jerry’s head, and Darla had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing as Jerry started looking around to see what had happened. Elvis pulled Darla down to the floor before they were discovered, and the two of them started giggling quietly as they knelt there.

“That bastard thinks it’s rainin’ popcorn now,” Elvis joked with glee.

“You have such good aim!” Darla exclaimed, delighted to see him so happy.

Elvis got a funny look on his face and leaned closer. “I have good aim with my lips too,” he whispered. Before Darla knew what was happening, Elvis’ soft plush lips were smushed against hers, and her heart was thudding right out of her chest.

“Elvis, should we be doing this?” she whispered nervously as he pulled back.

“It’s jus’ a little harmless kissin’ baby, nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.” Elvis leaned back in, and Darla knew she would give him anything he wanted. He put his arm around her and helped gently lower her until she was lying on the floor. He leaned over and let his body collide into hers, the two of them pressed tightly together as he kissed her again, this time letting his tongue slip into her mouth.

Darla felt tingly all over as Elvis’ tongue intertwined with her own, his hand tracing up and down her side and then softly caressing her breast. He finally pulled back and stared down at her with a blissful expression.

“Did ya like that, honey?”

“That felt real nice, Elvis. I’ve never, uh, I mean it felt real nice,” she repeated nervously, feeling embarrassed to admit her inexperience.

Elvis smiled and helped her up into the seat again. He held her hand and stroked the back of it as they both pretended to focus on the movie. Elvis took his hat off and set it on the seat next to him, running his hand through his hair, hoping it didn’t look a mess. He glanced over and saw that Darla’s chest was still heaving and she seemed to be clenching her legs together. He wondered how aroused she was. She seemed so sweetly nervous about it all. He let his hand creep up under her skirt, his fingertips dancing along her soft thigh.

“Elvis wh-what are ya doin?” she whispered, but she didn’t grab his hand to stop him. Instead she subconsciously spread her legs a little further apart, allowing him to walk his fingers all the way up to that spot that had been feeling funny and achy since she saw him walk in earlier.

“I ain’t gonna hurt ya Darla honey,” Elvis spoke in a hushed tone that sent a little shiver through her body. His fingers pressed gently against her privates, stroking softly up and down, but he kept them outside of her panties, which she now realized felt oddly damp. Her body felt like it might go up in flames and she released a soft moan as Elvis’ fingers moved slowly back down her thigh, leaving a little trail of wetness behind. “I jus’ wanted ta see if you’re as excited as I am.”

“Are ya excited too?” Darla asked, looking down at where she knew his excitement might show. The laces on his pants looked even tighter than before, like they were struggling to contain what was underneath. “I like those laces,” Darla murmured, unable to take her eyes off him.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that honey? What do they make ya think about?” Elvis smirked at the way Darla was blushing so deeply now.

“Makes me think about unlacin’ ‘em.” Darla moved her hand steadily up his leg, hoping he enjoyed it as much as she had when he touched her. “And lookin’ at what’s inside there.” She swallowed nervously and looked up in apprehension as her hand reached the thick bulge underneath the laces.

Elvis nodded reassuringly, although he looked a little nervous too. “Go ‘head baby. You can have a look.”

Darla pulled on the laces, loosening the waistband of his pants. She tugged it open and let out a small gasp when she saw he wasn’t even wearing any underwear. She stared down, frozen, unsure of what to do next now that she was face to face with his privates.

Elvis reached down and pulled his penis out of his pants, breathing a little sigh of relief. “Ah that’s better. Was gettin’ a little tight in there.” He smiled as Darla continued staring nervously. “Ya wanna touch it baby? He likes ta be touched.” Darla nodded. She could feel her panties getting even wetter as Elvis took her hand and wrapped it around himself. He felt so thick and warm. A quiet moan escaped him as he guided Darla to pump him up and down.

“I like ta see ya feel good,” Darla whispered, noting the way Elvis’ head had dropped back and his eyes closed. He looked relaxed except for the way his breathing was speeding up.

“Ya know what would feel even better baby?” Elvis had almost a pleading look in his eyes. “Could ya give him a little kiss?”

Darla’s eyes widened in surprise, but she couldn’t deny that the thought excited her. She leaned down over his lap and pressed her lips against the tip of his penis. She decided to kiss it how he’d been kissing her and slipped her tongue out of her mouth, letting it run all over him, all the way down to where his hair grew at the base. It felt good to have her mouth on him like that.

This time Elvis’ moan was louder. Almost too loud. “Okay, baby, we gotta stop or I’m gonna have a mess to clean up.” Darla leaned back in her seat as Elvis tucked himself back in and tied the laces of his pants. “We should go back down to our seats before the whole dang movie’s over.”

Darla nodded and rose from her seat, feeling a little funny about going back down to sit alone after all that just happened. She straightened her dress out before heading for the stairs. Once they got to the lobby, Elvis headed toward the bathroom. “I, uh, gotta take care of somethin’ real quick.”

“That’s okay, I should probably get home anyway.” Darla turned to leave the theater, but Elvis grabbed her real quick, pulling her into another tight hug.

“Darla, I hope I see ya again real soon. I feel less lonely when you’re around too.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and headed into the bathroom so he could take care of his issue.

Darla left the theater feeling a little better about it all. She didn’t think it was possible that she could be as special to Elvis as he was to her, but being able to make him feel so good put her on top of the world.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - drinking,, sexual references

y/nn = your nickname if your confused🩷

Chapter 8

After Christmas we did something exciting every night, usually beginning after midnight. Sometimes Matt rented either the Memphian or the Malco theater to watch movies. Other times he rented the entire Rainbow Skating Rink, the infamous roller rink I’d heard so much about.

My first night there I was lacing up my skates when the boys asked me, “Do you know how to skate?”

“Sure,” I said.

“But do you know how to skate?” they persisted.

I got the message real fast when a box of knee pads was passed around. This was not your ordinary around the rink to organ music skating. The idea here was to keep your bones intact.

I wobbled onto the rink only to wobble off. I wasn’t about to stay on that floor after seeing the determined looks on the other skaters’ faces. They made the Roller Derby look mild. From the sideline, I watched them rounding the rink, adjusting their jackets and shirts so they weren’t too tight and checking that their arms and legs were securely padded.

Then Matt skated into their midst, calling out, “Okay, everybody. Y’all clear the way on the sidelines. I don’t want anybody hurt over there. Honey, why don’t you get on the other side there with Louise [Gene Smith’s wife]. The rest of you, get your asses somewhere else.” They all started laughing, and he said, “Okay, let’s go!”

About twenty-five skaters locked hands, forming what they called a whip. Skating abreast, they began circling the rink, building up speed. The objective of the game was to remain unscathed at speeds of over ten miles per hour. It could be very dangerous if you were to lose your balance or if you were at the tail end, when, by turning quickly, they all “cracked the whip.”

There were a lot of falls, but despite the danger, Matt seemed to know exactly what he was doing. I noticed that whenever someone was hurt, he was the first to see if they were all right and to decide if they should continue to play.

I still don’t know how anybody kept from getting seriously injured, yet no one complained and most of them were even willing to do it again the next night. It was rough, but as Matt put it, “If you’re man enough to get out there, then you better be man enough to take the licks.”

New Year’s Eve was approaching. Matt told Alan to rent the Manhattan Club for the evening and to invite about two hundred people, Matt’s friends and the presidents and other members of his fan clubs.

Although I was excited about the party, I couldn’t help thinking that after New Year’s Eve I would have to leave. Matt kept telling me not to think about it. I noticed that whenever I mentioned a problem to him he’d just say, “It’ll all work out, don’t worry about it. I’ve got enough to think about without having to worry about that.”

He always avoided problems. If I was disturbed or depressed, or if I felt we were becoming distant and wanted to get closer by talking it out, he avoided me or told me my timing was bad. There was never a good time.

Once I reproached him about the attention he was lavishing on the girlfriend of one of the regulars. She was very attractive, about my height, with black hair and a nice figure. She had come into the kitchen, where several of us were sitting, and Matt, who was wearing dark sunglasses, began making comments like, “Boy, it’s getting warm in here. Anybody else warm?”

I was so upset I left the room. I waited for him to go upstairs, then followed shortly behind him. “Matt, I have to talk to you,” I said.

“Sure, Honey, what is it?”

“I saw the way you were eyeing that girl. It upset me.”

“Look, woman,” he said, losing his temper. “No one tells me who I can look at and who I can’t. Besides, your imagination’s getting carried away. I’ve seen her ass around here long before today.”

With that I stomped out, slamming the bedroom door. I felt betrayed that he’d even desire another woman and was annoyed that he’d never admit it. I became obsessed and watched what Matt liked, what attracted him, trying to be everything he ever imagined a woman could be, and more.

The New Year’s Eve party at the Manhattan Club started around 10 p.m., but Matt timed our arrival a few minutes before midnight. We just had time to order double screwdrivers when the countdown began. Then we all sang “Auld Lang Syne.”

As people shouted “Happy New Year!” Matt pulled me close and said, “Baby, I don’t want you to go back. You’re staying here. We’ll call your parents in the morning.”

I was in such a state of ecstasy that I didn’t notice what I was drinking: four double screwdrivers, all drunk through a straw. After one double, I was feeling high; after four, I was reeling. I went into the ladies’ room with Louise and stayed there for what seemed like hours, swaying back and forth in the stall, trying to get myself together.

When we finally returned to the table, I tried to act as if everything was okay, but Matt took one look at me and said, “Baby, we better get you home. You’re in no condition to be here.” He asked his old friend George Klein, the Memphis disc jockey, if he would take me home.

I spent most of the ride back to Graceland with my head out the window. George and his date walked me to the door, where we said good night, and I let myself in.

Gripping the banister, I slowly climbed the white stairs, shedding my clothing as I went: my jacket, purse, shoes, and blouse left in a long trail up the steps. By the time I reached the bedroom I was wearing only my bra and panties. I collapsed on the bed and passed out.

A few hours later I heard Matt tiptoe into the room and come over to me. His condition was not much better than mine. I could make out his silhouette against the ceiling above me. I didn’t stir. Gently, he took off the rest of my clothes. Then he kissed me and kissed me over and over. This night we almost went too far. His vow was nearly broken. My passion had gotten to him and under the influence of alcohol, he weakened. Then, before I knew what happened, he withdrew saying, “No. Not like this.” It had to be special, just as he’d always planned.

I have to admit that, at that moment i didn’t care if it was special and I didn’t care what he’d vowed. I didn’t care, in fact, what he wanted at all. I only knew I wanted him.

The next morning my head throbbed with a terrible hangover. I felt ashamed and embarrassed—and yet not at all sorry about what we’d done. He was a little closer to being all mine.

The moment of truth came when we called my father in Germany. Matt was on the extension in his office and I was on another phone somewhere else in the house. Though the connection to Wiesbaden was filled with static, there was no mistaking my father’s words.

“Young lady, I will not go through this conversation again. We made an agreement. You were to leave there on the second of January. You’ve got one day left and you’d better be on that flight!”

Matt interjected, “Captain, sir, if she could just stay a couple more days. I have to be back in L.A. soon, and it would be nice—”

“Matt, I can’t do that. She has to be back in school and that was the deal. I’m sorry. y/n y/ln, are you there?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“We’ll be at the airport. You know the time; we’ll see you then.”

I was furious. I flew into Matt’s office where, sitting behind his desk, he was just hanging up.

“I hate them. I hate them both,” I yelled like a spoiled child. “Why are they stopping us? They just want me home to babysit, to take care of the kids, that’s all.”

Matt’s face was flushed with anger. “We made a goddamn agreement—who the hell does he think he is, talking like that on the goddamn phone—him and his military upbringing.”

He grabbed the phone and called down to the kitchen, demanding, “Where’s my dad! He down there? Tell him to come upstairs to the office.”

Within seconds James was at the door. “What is it, Son?”

“Goddamn Captain y/ln,” he shouted. “We just called to see if y/nn could stay a few more days and he comes off with this cocky attitude and refuses with his jargon about making agreements.”

“Now calm down, Son. It ain’t that bad. He was probably just concerned about her being home in time for school.”

“School, what the hell do I care about school?” Matt snapped, ignoring James’s efforts to soothe him. “Put her into school here, that’ll solve everything. She doesn’t need school. Hell, they don’t teach you anything nowadays anyway.”

“Well, Son, she’s gonna have to go back, there ain’t no two ways about it, give or take a day or two.”

“Goddamn, Dad, you’re not helpin’ matters any,” Matt said, but he was beginning to calm down. He sat back in his big desk chair and swiveled it around to face the window, then gazed out toward the pastures. Finally he turned around and announced that he had a plan.

Matt’s strategy called for me to return to Germany and to arrive in good spirits, then to concentrate on doing well in school so that my parents wouldn’t be able to use my poor grades as an excuse for not letting me return. Matt wanted me to finish high school in Boston and to that end he would make arrangements for me to return as soon as possible.

Germany

Although Matt said that I should greet my parents with a friendly smile, from the moment I got off the plane, my attitude was one of defiance. I now believed that my parents were a threat to my future happiness. I didn’t realize that their fears and concerns were entirely reasonable. All that mattered to me was what Matt and I wanted, and no one was going to stand in our way.

The weather was cold and dreary, which certainly didn’t help my mood. I walked through customs to find my parents waiting. Noting my attitude, their expressions were cool, their welcome stiff. No loving arms wrapped around me, no loving words greeted me. Only my father’s abrupt order, “Let’s go.”

The drive back to Wiesbaden seemed longer than forty-five minutes. I sat in the backseat in icy silence. No one mentioned my request to stay at Graceland.

“All in all, did you have a nice time?” Dad ventured.

“Yes,” I replied, looking out the window at the clusters of trees bare from the harsh winter.

“Did Matt like your present?” Mother asked hopefully.

“Yes,” I assured her. “He loved it.”

“Was it as cold in Boston as it gets here?” Dad asked, keeping the conversation light, trying to make me open up and talk.

“No, it’s colder here,” I replied sharply, referring to both the weather and my attitude. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror and surprisingly, Dad looked away rather than reacting to my cutting remark.

I knew I was pushing my luck with them, but I couldn’t suppress my feelings and pretend that everything was all right. I was so deeply in love that chitchat seemed pointless—as did everything except for Matt. I remembered how he had held me before we said goodbye, with such emotion and need that nothing could keep me away from him. How could I explain these adult feelings to my parents who, I thought, could never understand and would think me silly or just infatuated?

When we arrived home Dad said, “Well, you’ve got school tomorrow, so try to get as much rest as you can tonight.”

Mom added, “You should have dinner and get right to bed.”

Did they both honestly think that I could slip back into the routine of ordinary life?

I rebelled against going to school. I skipped classes, went to town, and downed a few beers with whoever I could get to join me. My attitude worsened along with my grades.

My parents were as confused as any caring parents would be, hoping the problem would eventually go away. But I didn’t make it easy for them. What had started out as a simple introduction to the world’s greatest rock-and-roll star had turned into a nightmare for them.

Matt began calling me almost immediately, and we’d talk for hours. My parents heard me whispering and giggling till three in the morning and wondered what on earth we could be talking about for so long. Nothing really—yet it seemed like everything.

I began to reveal to my mother that Matt and I loved each other and longed to be together. Finally one day I summoned the courage to tell her that Matt wanted me to finish school in Boston. Her response: an unqualified no. She felt it could wait until my father’s tour of duty was over. That would be the end of summer, she said, and there was no need for me to return to Matt sooner.

“But Mother,” I pleaded, “you don’t understand. He wants me there with him.”

“Why you?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion. “Why can’t he find someone his own age? You’re only sixteen. What is this man doing to our family?”

She buried her face in her hands and began crying.

I did feel sorry for her. We were always close, she was always there for me, but this time she just didn’t understand. I hated seeing her in pain, but nothing seemed more important to me than Matt. Not even my mother.

“He’s not anything like you imagine,” I said, “and he needs me, Mother. I won’t get hurt. Please talk to Dad.”

Slowly she raised her head and looked at me.

“y/nn, I’d never forgive myself if I let you go and if you came back to us with a broken heart. You’re so young! You have no idea what lies ahead of you. All you know is you’re in love. Do you know how difficult that is to fight?” She sighed. “I wouldn’t wish this on any parent.”

She brushed away her tears and after a moment said, “All right, I’ll talk to your father, but not just yet. It’s still too soon.”

I gave her a big hug and whispered, “Thank you, Mother. I know you can do it. I love you.”

Now I had to wait for my mother to intercede. I knew how much my father was against the idea. My parents still didn’t really know Matt’s intentions toward me. They only knew what I had told them. But they had also read in the newspapers that Matt was dating every one of the female costars in his movies, so naturally they were suspicious.

One day on the phone I told Matt, “If you want me to come back and go to school, you’re going to have to talk to my father yourself.”

“Put him on,” Matt replied. “I’m not MacArthur, but I can sure as hell try.”

Drawing on all of his charm, Matt assured my father that if I was permitted to move to Boston, I wouldn’t live with him at Graceland but with his dad, James, and his wife, Angela. Matt promised to enroll me in a good Catholic school—he’d choose it himself—and make sure I graduated. He said I’d always be chaperoned and that he’d care for me in every way. Declaring his intentions honorable, he swore that he loved and needed and respected me. In fact, he couldn’t live without me, he said, intimating that one day we’d marry.

This left my parents in a dilemma. If Matt were as sincere as he sounded, there was a chance that our relationship might work out. But if it didn’t work out, they ran the risk of my returning to them disillusioned and brokenhearted. If they refused to let me go, I might never forgive them and I would bitterly regret this unfulfilled love for the rest of my life. In that light, there was little they could do but say yes, and eventually they did.

In truth, I was as mystified as my parents were about why Matt wanted me to come live with him. I think he was attracted by the fact that I had a normal, stable childhood, and that I was very responsible, having helped my parents raise my younger brothers and sister. I was more mature at sixteen than I was at fourteen, when he’d met me, not only because I’d gone through the normal growing period, but also because I’d experienced the pain of living without him for those two years.

Most of all, he knew he could depend on me. I wasn’t interested in a career, in Hollywood, or in anything else that would draw my attention away from him. I also had all of the physical attributes that Matt liked, the fundamentals he could use in turning me into his ideal woman. In short, I had everything that Matt had been looking for in a woman: youth and innocence, total devotion, and no problems of my own. And I was hard to get.

I intended to do whatever I had to to hold him, because if he had ever sent me home, it would have meant not only that I’d been wrong in going to him, but that my parents had been wrong for having permitted it. I firmly resolved to make our relationship work, no matter what.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - do you guys like longer chapters like this?🎀

[mooodyblue]

hi i’ve never sent a request before but i thought of one/ just a thought depending on what you’re feeling 🫶 but basically my anxiety has been really bad lately and today i had a breakdown in a restaurant bc i was convinced the waiter was mad at me LMAO and i was just thinking abt how elvis would handle a situation like that where his little really doesn’t want to go down but he can tell their anxiety is spiking / they’re starting to panic and he doesn’t wanna push them, but then something pushes them over the edge in public and he just comforts them and helps them drop and gets them away from the situation asap just very fluffy and comforting and yeah 🫶 that’s all 🫶

ugh i feel this 100%!!!!! loved this request vvv much i know this all too well. hope u enjoy! <3

wc: 1.3k

there was something off about you today, elvis couldn’t put his finger on it.

elvis knew you like the back of his hand. he knew your quirks, what set you off, what made you uncomfortable, and how bad your brain could treat you sometimes. 

you woke up with a weird feeling in your chest. maybe it was the way elvis sighed when he woke up or how his usual morning kiss didn't linger as long as it usually did. how did something so small cause you so much worry?

it almost worried elvis how quiet you were at breakfast. all you did was poke at your eggs. there was a slight tremble to your hand, heavy sighs leaving your chest as you refused to make eye contact with him. 

“you alright, baby?” 

you didn't look up at him, shrugging and not replying to him. 

he sighed, drinking his coffee and putting his mug down before asking the question that you absolutely dreaded.

“you feelin’ little?” 

honestly, there was nothing more you wanted than to finally drop. but it was his day off, he wanted to spend the day with you and his friends and he had plans, you couldn’t just ruin them so suddenly. not on the day of. he was already annoyed with you, at least in your head he was. 

“no.” was all you said, poking at your eggs again.

“well—i got the guys to come with us to the memphian tonight. got a good lineup of movies, you wanna go down and get that pretty lil' dress you saw a couple weeks ago?” he asked, trying to get your mind off of things. 

“sure, sure.” she nodded. 

damage control 

“whatever you wanna do.” she mumbled, pushing her plate away. 

he did buy the dress for you, amongst other things. he loved spoiling you. with how you’d been feeling, he thought you deserved a nice pick me up at the very least. 

it wasn’t until you both settled into the rented out memphian theater that you started feeling bad again. the guys were in a few rows behind the two of you, being loud and talking amongst themselves before the movie started. elvis had to tell them to tone it down a bit as if he noticed it was bothering you slightly. 

elvis wrapped an arm around your shoulders, whispering sweet nothings in your ear to try and calm you down. your leg was bouncing up and down quickly, trying to ease yourself of your running thoughts. “they don’t like me, elvis.” you mumbled. 

“sure they do, baby. you know how they get sometimes.” he sighed. 

they were just….so loud. and it was clearly affecting you and elvis was well aware of it so chances are; elvis was annoyed that you were frustrated and ruining his night with the guys. 

obviously, that wasn't even close to the truth. but your brain told you otherwise. 

you felt your chest start to hurt, just trying to keep everything bottled in and to yourself as your thoughts became worse and worse. 

“you gon’ start the movie or keep coddlin’ that baby of yours, ep?” billy yelled from the back. 

you sunk further in your seat, crossing your arms. 

elvis rolled his eyes, “it ain’t me man, be patient. they’ll start it soon. it ain't my fault we’re early.” 

there was an audible groan from the back, along with mumbles which you assumed were about you.

“it's my fault.” you muttered. 

his eyes widened as he turned to you, taking ahold of your hand. “not your fault at all, baby. you know that.” 

“i didn’t wanna go out for lunch ‘n now we’re early.” she grumbled.

“baby, we didn’t go out for lunch cause the guys were eager ‘bout comin' out here. you not wantin’ to eat didn’t play into that at all—you know how i am about you skippin’ your meals.” he frowned, squeezing your hand. “you hungry? i can go get you a lil’ snack, i’ll be real fast.” 

you looked at him panicked, “you’re gonna leave me with them?” 

“i’ll be super super fast, baby. i’ll bring you some candy, okay? you just wait.” he kissed the top of your head as he got up from his seat to leave the theater, leaving you alone a few rows ahead of the guys. 

you kept your eyes forward, refusing to look behind you. 

there was a small thump to the back of your head, followed by another and then another. that’s when you turned around, your cheek being hit with a piece of popcorn thrown from his cousin as he snickered to himself. you turned back around, your chest getting tighter as you felt your body begin to shake. why was elvis taking so long?

“quit it, man! that ain’t funny!” and “you’re bein’ a real jerk, man.” were mumbled behind you and god, you just wanted to go home.

elvis returned to the room, his eyes automatically shifting to you as you stood there visibly not okay. he rushed over to you, rubbing your back. “what happened? what’s goin’ on, baby?” 

“my chest hurts.” you whimpered, your breathing suddenly getting heavier. 

he glared at the guys behind her, “what the hell did you say to them?” 

“man, i was just kiddin’ around!” billy defended, sitting up in his chair. “they’re just bein’ dramatic!”

“watch your mouth, boy.” elvis snapped. 

you felt tears begin to trickle down your cheeks, shaking your head as you covered your ears. 

elvis helped you up from your seat, looking back at the men, “enjoy the movie.” he spat before quickly ushering you out into the quiet lobby. 

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” you began to cry, trying to control your breathing. 

“hey, baby. look at me, c’mere.” he crouched down and took her hands, holding them both securely in his as he looked up at you. “don’t apologize, this ain’t your fault. i got a group of fools as friends, don’t i?” 

you sniffled softly, shaking under his touch. 

elvis knew you weren’t having a good day and he wished you had brought it up, but you had such a bad habit of overthinking and bottling it all up. he wanted to take away your pain so badly, but all he could do was comfort you. 

“baby? you wanna go down a bit? maybe try ‘n forget about all of this?” he finally asked in a softer tone. 

you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, nodding as he brought you back to his car—immediately taking you home. 

elvis was good at taking care of you, always knowing what to do in situations like these. he gave you a nice bath, wrapped you up in a cozy blanket and put cartoons on for you in the living room until he returned with a plate of nuggets and a sippy cup with your favorite juice. he frowned upon eating in the living room in fear of you spilling something onto the carpet but at this moment he didn’t care. 

he rubbed your back softly as you drank from your sippy cup. “you okay, baby?” 

“mhm.” you hummed against your sippy cup. “thank you, daddy.” 

he gave you a soft smile, pressing a kiss to your temple. “you were so strong today, daddy’s real proud of you.” 

you turned and looked at him, your cheeks growing warm at the sudden praise. 

he smiled at your reaction, giving your cheek a small pinch as you erupted in tiny giggles, nuzzling into his neck with the sippy cup still in your hand. “my cute baby, you’re just so cute. y’know that? i ain’t ever lettin’ anyone be mean to you again. swear.” 

the puppy dog eyes got him, the look of love and adoration in your eyes as you looked up at him from his shoulder. he kissed the top of your head and brushed your hair back. “i could just eat you right up, baby. that’s how cute you are.” 

“daddy no!” you giggled, hiding your face in his shoulder. 

“alright, alright. not today.”

[eptodaytommorowforever]

Elvis Presley On The 7th Of July In 1960;

Elvis Presley bought a water-skiing boat. He continued to rent the Rainbow Rollerdrome and the Memphian Theater almost every day. rare b/w candid photo of Elvis Presley with memphis mafia friends In water skiing boat here taken 1960

[vintagepresley]

could you do something with like one of the memphis mafia have a bachelor party for Elvis and they get him like a stripper and he’s like not having it. like the reader knows that there will be a stripper at the party and she’s fine with it but Elvis still wants to be respectful 😭 I feel like that would be so funny

Yesss of course! Thank you for the request! ❤️

As your friends were preparing your bachelorette party, Elvis' friends were planning his bachelor party and to be respectful to you they had filled you in on the festivities they had planned. You weren't too surprised when they had mentioned getting a stripper for the party. You figured why not let Elvis have his fun. You trusted him that you knew he wouldn't do anything to hurt you, so you told the boys that it was perfectly fine. You actually thought it was sorta funny because you knew Elvis so well that you knew how he'd react and you giggled to yourself at the thought of it. Besides if you knew you couldn't trust him you wouldn't be marrying him in a few days. Elvis knew better and he knew he'd lose you in a second if he ever broke your trust. You couldn't wait to tell your friends what the guys had planned for Elvis knowing they would get a kick out of it as well.

Elvis was completely in the dark about the whole ordeal and the party. That night the guys had surprised him by saying they were taking him out to see a movie at the Memphian Theater. He thought it was a bit odd especially when they blindfolded him, but he went along with it. But he soon realized that they were not going there because of how long the drive was an when they got to their destination it was a strip club where they arranged to have a private party. They walked Elvis inside of the club and he was still blindfolded trying to figure out what was going on. He felt the guys sit in him a chair and then Joe removed his blindfold and squint a bit from some of the lights until his eyes suddenly widen at the sight of the stripper standing in front of him and already straddling his lap. He quickly pushes her away. "Sorry, honey, I'm married." he said before looking over a the guys were laughing. "Do y'all think this shit is funny? Y/N would kill me if she knew what was happenin' and I don't feel comfortable with this."

"EP, relax, it's a bachelor party there's suppose to be strippers!" Sonny said with a chuckle. Elvis shook his head and the stripper kept trying to give him lap dance only trying to do the job that she was paid to do. But Elvis was just not having it and he kept politely denying her. "Now quit it, honey. I'll pay you just to stop." Elvis said sternly. "Come on, EP! Lighten up and have some fun!" Red shouts. "Elvis shooting him a look as if he wanted to kill him just for that sentence leaving his mouth. Red sees the look and backs off from saying anything further, but the guys couldn't help but laugh at Elvis' purge reaction and if he only knew that his own soon-to-be wife agreed to a stripper. They continued to watch as Elvis dodged every advance she made toward him and him quickly moving away or clearing his throat trying to act as if he wasn't staring for a moment.

"Enough! I'd rather go see a movie." Elvis announced loudly. It got to the point where the guys couldn't take it any longer and felt that they needed to tell him what they know. Joe walks over to him. "You know we got the approval for the stripper from someone who thought this would be a great idea." Joe said ominously. Elvis raised an eyebrow. "Who?" He asked curiously. Joe smirked to him and draped his arm around Elvis' shoulders. "Y/N was all for you having a stripper. Elvis' eyes widen when he heard that. "What? No she didn't!" Elvis said rolling his eyes. Joe laughed. "I wish I were lying but it's true!" Joe smirked. "She thought you could have some fun." Sonny chimed in. Elvis was in complete shock when he heard that you agreed to this and he knew that you and the guys would get a kick out of the way he was acting. But now that he knew that you approved of having a stripper he didn't feel as bad if he looked. His spirits were suddenly high once again.

"Now will you lighten up and have some fun it is your bachelor party after all!" Charlie said happily. Elvis chuckled. "I'll try my best, Charlie." he grinned and he couldn't wait to get home to brag about the stripper just to tease you for not telling him about this.

*

[doll-elvis]

Do you believe Kathy Tatum’s story?

thank you so much for the question because I’ve been needing an excuse to delve into this as I’ve always wondered about the validity of her story 👀

**as always this is long but I found some strong and damning evidence 🤧!!

For context: Kathy Tatum is a Memphis native who claims to have met Elvis, who was 34 at the time, outside the gates of Graceland on July 2, 1969, when she was 16 years old. According to her, they began casually dating from that first initial meeting and continued to do so up until 1972-ish

In 2015 she published her book, “Love beads from Elvis”, which is mainly compromised of entries from the diary she kept during her time with Elvis as well as commentary from her perspective now. Recently, she was also featured in the Amazon documentary “Elvis’ women” where she shared more about her experience

Anyone who has kept a diary knows just how repetitive the entries can get. Every entry/chapter of her book is essentially "woke up, went to school, met with Elvis, went to the Memphian, made out, mom made us come home, went to bed". So it’s definitely not the most exciting read but I will say it’s very immersive, and I definitely felt like I was in her shoes so to speak

Here are Kathy and Elvis pictured when they first met, as well as the shot she snapped of him alone ⬇️

And here is part of the entry describing their first initial meeting (click each photo to read in its entirety) ⬇️

As for the validity…

short answer: either kathy is completely lying or she is just terrible with dates

my vote is with completely lying

long answer: The three best methods, in my opinion, for determining whether a book or story concerning Elvis is true or not are...

1. Check to see if anyone else in Elvis' life, particularly his inner circle, has confirmed or refuted the claim

2. Check to see if Elvis' described behavior matches with how we know he acted based on credible sources

3. Finally, and most importantly, check to determine if the dates match and if Elvis was indeed where the person claimed he was

This 3rd method is definitely the most reliable, as many falsified stories about Elvis tend to get the dates wrong. For example claiming he was in Vegas while, in fact, he was in Memphis

From what I have researched, Kathy fails 2 of the above mentioned methods

Method number one: Kathy fails. Nobody who knew Elvis has even acknowledged Kathy Tatum, let alone denied her story. Essentially, Kathy does not exist in the “Elvis Universe” according to his closest friends/girlfriends/family members

And most damning for Kathy, not even Charlie Hodge, who is talked about nearly as often as Elvis in her book and who also allegedly dated her sister, has spoken about her

So, once again, I find it difficult to believe that Kathy, who claims to have frequented the Memphian with Elvis and Charlie, and occasionally the entire group, has never been mentioned by anyone else

In one entry in Kathy's book, she states that as she got up from her seat in the theater to go to the concession stand, Elvis got up and followed her, and began kissing her in front of the counter worker and a few members of the group…yet no one in his circle has ever talked about the 16-year-old blonde that Elvis would very publicly make out with? And would sit with and kiss inside the theater?

As for method number 2, I would say this is one that Kathy actually passes 🤧

To give an example of how this method can help determine the validity of a story, we can talk about Byron Raphael and his egregious claims

One claim being that Elvis personally asked Byron to have girls give “practice” bl*wjobs (on Byron) so that Byron could evaluate whether she was skilled enough before she went to see Elvis. Another claim made by Byron is that Elvis liked to keep his bedroom door open while having s*x with the girl he was with so that everybody in the hotel could see and hear…

You don’t even have to do much research about Elvis to know that it’s completely uncharacteristic of him, as Elvis was insanely protective of his dates and would get easily jealous. I mean Jerry nearly got fired for just having a casual conversation with Priscilla 😭

And, according to Sonny and Red West, when parties were thrown at the Perugia Way house in Los Angeles and people were skinny dipping and such, Elvis would not allow hisself or his girl for the night to participate ⬇️

so basically… Byron is full of shit (yet Alanna Nash used him as a source, multiple times, which says everything about her credibility 💀)

Now, the reason I feel that Kathy passes this specific method is that their relationship never went beyond kissing/fondling, which, as we all know, was typical of Elvis in some of his relationships. Another is that the food she depicts him eating is consistent with what we know he liked (hamburgers and more hamburgers, basically), and I believe she accurately describes Elvis and his slightly odd sense of humor as well. But still it’s not enough to prove validity as all of this would be easy to research and perhaps the author did, and that’s why it’s so accurately written in her book

Lastly for method number 3, Kathy fails this one quite miserably which again is very damning for the validity of her book

On multiple occasions throughout her book, Elvis was not actually where she claimed he was (based on the dates of her entries)

For example, one of the most terribly obvious mistakes in her dated entries occurs on July 15th, 1970

This is Kathy Tatum’s recollection of that day in Memphis, Tennessee ⬇️

And this is where Elvis actually was, filming rehearsals for MGM in Culver City… California ⬇️

like we have video (and very famous video) evidence that Elvis was not making out with Kathy Tatum in Memphis 🤧

Another example takes place on March 15th, 1971

This is Kathy’s recollection of that day in a motel with Elvis in Memphis, Tennessee ⬇️

And this is where Elvis actually was… in Nashville, Tennessee… rehearsing

(and again, video/auditory evidence that Elvis was not in Memphis making out with Kathy)

So all in all… much like Byron, Kathy is full of shit 🤧

[doll-elvis]

thank you so much for the tag and for the prompt @thatbanditqueen, I will never skip on an opportunity to share a photo of this man that makes me giggle 🤭

now this one is making me giggle for 2 reasons

1. His attire!! this was taken outside the Memphian movie theater in December of 1962. I thought he was maybe pictured going home from an event at the governors house or something but no… he was wearing a waistcoat, a suede green jacket, and a captain’s hat just to go and see a movie💀

2. Notice the blob of black hair behind his right shoulder, and the high-heeled foot next to his right foot? That’s Priscilla 😭 I truly never understood how some of the Memphis Mafia and how some of his other friends would say they never even knew that Priscilla visited Graceland for Christmas in 1962 but now it makes sense lmaooo. I honestly didn’t even notice her myself until I read the caption for this photo on the site where I got it from. This photo perfectly encapsulates what the early to mid 60s was like for Elvis and it makes me giggle

I will never not laugh at this photo of Elvis getting busy backstage at the Lousiana Hayride in Shreveport, LA on July 2, 1955 with Jeanette McDonald. And his parents.

I always want to know what Jeanette is thinking, or what Vernon and Gladys are thinking. Or what Elvis is thinking... though I feel like I can tell just by looking at his face. Where are your hands, young man?

I am always curious if it was taken before or after this one?

Do you have a favorite photo of E that cracks you up? PDA or not, reblog and share and bring our fandom some much needed levity here on tumblr.

Imma tag a few but everyone - participate!

@lookingforrainbows @ashtag6887 @whositmcwhatsit @be-my-ally @ab4eva @missmaywemeetagainn @from-memphis-with-love @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @ccab @thetaoofzoe @arrolyn1114 @kingdomforapony @freudianslumber @louisejoy86 @avengen @precious-little-scoundrel @powerofelvis @flwrs4aust @notstefaniepresley @doll-elvis @deke-rivers-1957 @peaceloveelvis

[theatomicpoweredsinger]

Elvis at the Memphian Theater in Memphis, TN, c. 1963. 

[hooked-on-elvis]

ELVIS WITH FAN (AND MEMPHIS NEIGHBOR) SHIRLEY CONNELL IN 1969 AND 1976.

Here's Shirley's words on those pictures (taken from her book's Facebook page): (1) July 1969, Memphis: "It's me standing on a stump in Elvis' yard in July, 1969. Oh, what a day!" (2) October 4, 1976: Pictured with Elvis are fans Shirley Connell (at his right) and Tracy Gawer at Vickers Gas Station, Memphis: "The strange look on my face is because he was rubbing my back at the time."

There's a little story on that October 4, 1976 moment in Elvis' life. You may read it HERE. Credits: elvis.com.au.

Here's an interview with Shirley (2020) from Ostjysk TV Youtube channel. She talks a bit about her memories being Elvis' neighbor, going with him and his gang to the Memphian Theater and the Fairgrounds amusement park in Memphis, as well as her personal experiences with some of Elvis' family members, such as Vernon and Vester Presley. Shirley wrote a memoir book, published in 2012, entitled "Elvis: The Man in My Backyard."

[vintageshanny]

I feel like I’m still kind of recovering emotionally from my trip to Memphis last week. It’s hard to even put into words the feeling of being inside of Elvis’ home. Getting to see and experience some of the things that played such an important role in his life made me feel even more connected to him. My love for him, both for his talent and for him as a man, only continues to grow. I bought this little replica of the stained glass peacock at Graceland, and now it feels like I have a little bit of his home in my home. ❤️

I know a lot of people are planning or potentially planning trips to Memphis. Here is a list of what I saw there (most of it is Elvis-related of course!); please feel free to comment or message me if you want to know more about something or wonder if it was worth it. Some are not open to the public but there are signs outside, and others have actual tours.

Beale Street

Elvis Presley Plaza

Coletta’s Italian Restaurant (with Elvis room)

Lauderdale Courts

Humes High

1034 Audubon Drive

Tiger Man Karate Dojo

Graceland UVIP Tour

Arcade Diner (with Elvis booth)

Tour of Circuit Playhouse (formerly the Memphian Theater)

Sun Studio tour

Stax Museum of American Soul Music

Marlowe’s (this is the restaurant that will pick you up in a pink car)

Overton Park Shell (you can go up on the stage where he gave his first concert!)

Hotel Chisca

American Sound Studio site (there is now a Family Dollar there, but there is a nice commemorative sign)

Memphis Fairgrounds (this is now essentially a parking lot, but we did see them setting up rides for a traveling fair)

National Civil Rights Museum

Bass Pro Pyramid

Elvis Birthplace House and Museum in Tupelo

Tupelo Hardware

Fair park in Tupelo (with Elvis Homecoming Statue)

Johnny’s Drive-In in Tupelo (with Elvis booth)

[twixnmix]

Elvis Presley and Linda Thompson

Elvis and Priscilla were working through their divorce when he began dating the beauty queen Linda Thompson at the Memphian Theater in July 1972. Their relationship lasted until she finally moved out of Graceland for good in December 1976. In her 2016 autobiography, “A Little Thing Called Life,” Linda discusses her relationship with Elvis and her marriage to Bruce Jenner.  

Thompson says one of the wisest and most memorable things she ever said to Elvis was on the night they met: “You should have married a Southern girl.” He readily agreed. “I was that Southern belle,” she noted, “who lived for her man and catered to his every whim. I was pretty much a perfect fit for him ‘right off the rack’—no alterations needed.”

“Ours was a complete relationship—when the need arose, we got to be everything to each other. He was almost sixteen years older than I and so it was natural for me to sometimes be the little girl, with him playing the daddy. More often than not, though, I was the mommy, and he was the baby. Sometimes we were lovers. Sometimes we were brother and sister. Sometimes we were best friends. We were all things to each other at one time or another. And Elvis was always, always everything to me.”

[fashion-sight]

Elvis Presley's Jeweler Reveals Untold Stories From the King's Heyday - Billboard

Billboard

Elvis Presley's Jeweler Reveals Untold Stories From the King's Heyday Billboard The Memphian Theater was mostly empty when Lowell Hays walked in and took a seat behind Elvis Presley on Christmas Eve of 1969. From time to time, the rock n' roll icon would gather friends for private movie screenings at the gilded, Art Deco venue ... and more »

[nofomoartworld]

We're the Artists Fighting Racism in Memphis | #50StatesofArt

As part of 50 States of Art, Creators is inviting artists to contribute first person accounts of what it is like to live and create in their communities. Victoria Jones is the Executive Director of The CLTV, a non-profit art organization dedicated to providing a platform to Black artists in Memphis.

A cold, metal Nathan Bedford Forrest sat high on a copper horse, peering down as living, breathing Sons of Confederate Veterans marched around his statue in full rebel costume. Some on horse, some on foot. All holding antique rifles over their left shoulders. Two boys trailed in the back, one toting a drum to keep the white men on beat, the other carrying the Confederate flag high above his head while the colors flew aggressively in the wind as a reminder of our violent shared history.

We were notified via group text that the Sons of Confederate Veterans had come together at a park in downtown Memphis. I stood side by side with my friends and fellow artists taking in the scene as my heart raced and my hands began to shake.

Rappers Don Lifted, Preauxx, Sidewayz, AWFM, and Sincere observe a rally held by the Sons of Confederate Veterans. Courtesy The CLTV.

We'd grown calloused to the subliminal racism of Memphis; the continued exclusion from music festivals like Memphis in May's Beale Street Music Festival and the Levitt Shell concert series, and the casual disregard of African-American input in the development of historically Black spaces like Clayborn Temple and Beale Street, but the Sons of Confederate Veterans acted as a physical reminder of the racial relationships in our majority Black Memphis.

Hurt and anger burned through our hearts. However, inaction and hopelessness never seemed like options. I stood next to builders and believers. Children of The Invaders, Sanitation Strikers, Stax and The Blues. I stood next to fighters, creators, artists.

Memphis' creative community comes together at the opening reception of Ancestors Remind Us II hosted by The CLTV.

I am the Executive Director of The CLTV, a non-profit art organization dedicated to providing a platform to Black artists in the city. We employ the use of creative expression as a vehicle to shift our culture towards positive growth, creativity, and strength. However, The CLTV is but one organization diligently working to create a platform for Black artists in Memphis.

Bertram Williams Jr. gives a sterling performance in The Hattiloo production 'Free Man of Color.' Courtesy The CLTV.

When I look around I see the likes of Hattiloo Theater, which proudly specializes in producing plays authored by Black writers. I see Collage Dance Collective and their unfailing commitment to ballet and art led by an all-Black company and staff. I see the Unapologetic record label and production company, piloted by the fearless IMAKEMADBEATS, uplifting some of my favorite musicians in the city. I see Dizzy Bird Music Hall and the physical home-base they have created for so many Black musicians. I see the newly opened Orange Mound Gallery where Black visual artists have found a space to experiment and link with their community. I see Memphis Music Initiative and Cloud 901 uplifting our young people through creative interactions. I see the individual artists taking advantage of these platforms to push back. I see my people uplifting my people, and though my heart races and my hands shake in the face of Memphis' racist climate, my fight is steadfast as I see the artist/creators next to me in the trenches.

Cameron Bethany of Unapologetic record label and production company gives a captivating performance. Courtesy The CLTV.

The Black artists Memphis created through pain, racial inequity, and adversity are the strongest, smartest, most creative hustlers on this side of the Mississippi. We have been forced to create our own platforms, our own spaces, and develop our own young people in an effort to control our own narrative.

Young Memphians join together with The CLTV, Cloud 901, and XQ Project to complete a collage workshop honoring Memphis' music history. Courtesy The CLTV.

To learn more about The CLTV, visit their website.

All year, we're highlighting 50 States of Art projects around the United States. This month, we're covering Oregon, Washington, Colorado, Tennessee, and Delaware. To learn more, click here.

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