Austin Elvis X Reader - Tumblr Posts
Business Practical
A/N debated writing this bc i already have so many things in my draft i want/need to finish but the new Elvis movie has completely taken over my mind. Austin Butler’s Elvis only though, real life Elvis is super sus. Also this may not be perfectly historically accurate,, but we’re accepting that bc it is not that deep and not worth my stress!! Also this taught me that I will never understand the spelling of ‘colonel’ like it just doesn’t sit right with me.
Summary: After the release of your hit single, you think that the rest of your career is set. Or at the very least, you’re guaranteed an easy release of your next album. Too bad your label thinks your record’s going to fail if you don’t find someone famous enough to record a duet with you. Fortunately for you, your squeaky clean, America’s newest sweetheart image is just the kind of thing Elvis needs around him to protect himself from his own controversy. (i set this up to have a part 2 but i’m on the fence about it lol, so ig if you’d like to be tagged lmk)
Update: Chapter II
Y/n’s POV
I may not know everything, but I know music. I know my music, and I know I know how to perform my music. That’s the only reason I’ve never experienced stage freight when it comes to performing. Because of that, people assume that I’m confident all the time. Now, I’m not one to shy away at the drop of a hat, but my nerves have been tangling my stomach since this morning.
Will had made it sound like the easiest thing in the world when he pitched his idea in my living room. The label’s sending you to his show, you’ll be escorted backstage right after. It’ll be easy for you since we both know you don’t know how to take ‘no’ as an answer. Everyone in my house was ecstatic. Sure, there’s controversy around him, but no one can deny his talent and success.
I might be pushy when I need to be, but it’s not like I can strong arm a phenomenon into recording a song with me. I insisted that he’d be better suited for this. Will is a professional and he looks the part. I still feel like a child whenever anyone starts talking business. Will said that was all the more reason to go. It’d be a learning opportunity and feel much more natural.
Maybe I would have fought him harder on it if he hadn’t dangled those tickets in front of me. Everyone in my house knows how badly I wanted to see Elvis perform.
I didn’t think this through. His performance was as captivating as I thought it’d be, which is a bad thing. There is no way I can go backstage and ask him to record a song with me. I know that his manager is expecting something, but I don’t think they’re picturing me. There’s a good chance that I won’t even get backstage--I look like most of the other girls here.
“Y/n, you alright?” I can feel Maisie’s cool fingers on my forearm. “He’s definitely back there, and I think you should hurry before you miss him.”
I’m frozen, not even my best friend’s voice is enough to snap me out of this. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t? He was amazing, and you saw the way the crowd reacted, he’s perfect for--”
“I know, that’s exactly why I can’t.” She doesn’t release my arm. “He’s like a real famous person and I--I thought coming to the show would be fun, and it was, but now I can’t stop thinking about how good he was and--”
Maisie’s walking forward, pulling on my arm as she moves. “I have never seen you scared to do anything.”
“Maisie,” I sigh, trying to resist her, “This is different. This isn’t some school presentation or even performance. It’s--ugh, it should have been Will. He’s the professional.”
She’s completely ignoring me. Maisie continues to walk, forcing me to take a few steps. “You don’t need Will, you don’t need anyone. Now go back there and don’t take no for an answer.”
I start walking, but Maisie doesn’t release me. I guess it’s fair, a part of me still wants to escape. With each step towards the back of the venue, my stomach drops a little more.
Maisie’s confidence can’t be faked, because she’s not even bothered by the security guard that’s standing in front of the door that leads to the backstage area. She continues forward like the large man in black isn’t going to attempt to stop her.
He does, of course, he’d be terrible at his job if he didn’t. Two young girls who just have to have a word with Elvis Presley after his show, that’s not suspicious at all.
“Excuse me, ladies, you can’t come back here.”
Even now, Maisie remains determined. “You should be expecting her.”
The man looks me over with little reaction behind his eyes. “I’m here on Will Walters’ behalf.”
He blinks at me. “You his daughter?” I shake my head, preparing to explain the situation. “Niece, then? Distant cousin?”
“No, sir, I--”
“Oh my,” a voice gasps, “Y/n L/n.” A girl I’ve never met before with styled mousy brown hair. “I heard your radio interview the other day! And don’t even get me started on your song!” She turns towards the security guard before I can speak. “Let her in, David, and her friend, too.”
Maisie squeezes my arm gently. The security guard, David, looks me and Maisie over again, and then he steps out of the way. Being recognized by someone because of my music has brought back some of my confidence.
I approach the girl that waved me in. “Thank you for that.” Part of me wants to let her know how much she’s actually helped me, but that feels awkward, especially considering the way she’s looking at me.
“Oh, don’t even think twice about it.” with a flick of her wrist, she dismisses it all. “If someone like me’s allowed by here, someone like you should be more than welcomed.”
“Someone like you?”
She smiles politely, “I’m not anything special, I just follow the tour around. I’m dating someone in the band.” I nod, following her as she begins to walk. “My name’s Annette.”
“Oh, I’m Y/n, but you already knew that.”
“And I’m Maisie.”
“Well, nice to meet you both.” She pauses long enough to give me a chance to look around. For a private space, it’s surprisingly crowded. I guess that makes sense when you factor in how many people probably have to work on the show and how many have girlfriends and family members in the area or on tour with them. “Now, you must be here t--”
Everything, including Annette’s voice, fades into the background. It all blurs into white noise that I don’t care to distinguish because now that I’m looking at him, everything else feels like it doesn’t matter. I thought most of his enthralling nature came from his stage presence, but now that he’s only feet away from me he’s just as attention drawing, and somehow even more attractive now that I can really see his facial features.
Of course his presence would melt away the tiny bit of confidence of developed, reducing me into the fan girl that can’t help but squeal at his existence. I clamp my mouth shut to avoid falling prey to my destiny. Look away. Stop staring. I don’t seem to have enough self control because my gaze remains frozen.
At least he hasn’t noticed...and he’s turning his head. Of course he’s turning his head, anyone could sense the kind of staring I’m subjecting him to. It’s only when our eyes meet that I find the strength to look away. But those few seconds of actual eye contact...I could write an entire song just about the blue of his irises and the chill that just ran through me.
Maybe I’m not insane, maybe he has this kind of affect on everyone. Maisie moves to grab my forearm, which is a good indicator that she’s seen him to. “He’s over there,” she whispers.
Okay, she sounds shocked and slightly in awe but nowhere near as mesmerized as I am--was, because I’ve snapped out of it, and I’m going to stay that way. I can’t imagine seeing Will again and telling him the reason I didn’t ask his question to Elvis is because he was cute I just couldn’t get the words out.
“Yeah,” I nod, dropping my head, “I see him.”
Annette hums once. “Oh, that makes sense.”
Heat runs through my body. “Oh, no--no, it’s not--” My stuttering isn’t convincing her, and it’s not like that’s unfair. “My manager actually set all this up--”
She nods, “Go on up and talk to him. He’s real nice, not too egotistical like some of the other singers I’ve met.”
I can feel Annette’s warm eyes on me and Maisie’s still squeezing my forearm and everything feels like it’s rushing to my head. “Okay,” I say, making absolutely no effort to move.
Maisie’s hold on me loosens. “Y’know, hon, to talk to him you’re gonna have to walk up to him.”
Good point. I mean he’s just standing there, and the person he’s talking to is walking away. I pull my arm away from Maisie while rolling my eyes. “I would’ve never guessed.”
I start walking forward, forcing myself to take even breaths as I approach him. He turns to face me a little quicker than I expected him to. My mind goes blank, no coherent sentences forming in my mind.
My mouth opens. “Hi.” Really?
The corner of his mouth turns upwards, like he’s trying to keep something in. “Hello, Miss...”
He’s offering me a space to provide my name, but before I can speak, a low sounding squeak interrupts us.
“You’re her,” a soft voice gasps, “Oh, you’re as cute in person as you were in that magazine photo.”
My smile feels awkward. The last thing I need right now is for Elvis to think I staged something to make myself look like a bigger deal than I am. Will has some connections and after my song took off, I did two interviews, both different magazine features. “Thank you, that’s kind of you to say.”
“I love your song,” she continues, her voice raising enough to catch the attention of others near us. “Is it true you wrote it yourself?”
I struggle to not fidget. “Yes, I--”
“Aren’t you the July song girl?”
My posture straightens under the new scrutiny. “Yes, that’s my song--”
“Oh when is your album coming out?”
My lips part, but I have no good way to answer that. “If everything goes well, soon--” After that, the voices of a cluster of strangers beat me out.
“How’d you get your hair like that in your magazine shoot? I’ve been trying for days, but--”
“Do you dress yourself? I love the modern modest look with all that lace detailing, it’s--”
“Are you and Elvis together? You’re both--”
“Your makeup--”
“When’s your next song coming out?”
I swallow. This is what rabbits must feel like when they’re trapped by predators. Where’s Maisie when I need her? She’s under no obligation to be polite to anyone and has more than made it clear that she has no problem telling people to give me some space.
“Hey,” the deepness of Elvis’s voice cuts through all the overlapping rambling with practically no effort, “Let’s give Miss July here some space.”
He places a warm hand on my shoulder. I dig my nails into my palms to avoid melting. With all the confidence in the world, he guides me away from the semi circle that formed with no notice. Elvis keeps his hand where he first put it as he leads me down a narrow hall. I can’t see Maisie but I know I’ll never hear the end of this.
Elvis stops in front of a wooden door and opens it casually. He leads me inside, lets go of my arm, and moves to sit on a stool in front of a lit vanity. It takes me a moment longer than it should to realize we must be in his dressing room. The reality of the situation crashes into me--Elvis Presley just walked me to his dressing room and closed the door behind him.
Okay, I’m being kind of ridiculous. He took me here to save me from having to answer a thousand questions. A thousand questions that people were asking me backstage at his concert. “I am so sorry Mr. Presley, I don’t even know what happened back there. I swear I--”
“I’m just surprised someone managed to pull away that much attention from me.” The corner of his mouth tilts upwards again. Okay--he genuinely doesn’t seem mad. “No need to apologize for keeping me humble, but if you’d like to make it up to me, I’d appreciate it if you told me how you managed that, Miss July.”
His easy going words paired with that half smile of his are enough to almost make me forget why I’m here. Almost. “Well, I should probably start off by letting you know my name’s not July. It’s Y/n L/n.” His expression still hints at just barely being amused. “That girl was just referencing the title of a song I--”
“So you’re a singer?”
The assumption feels false coming from someone like him. I fold my hands in front of me. “Trying to be, at least.”
“Considering the way people reacted out there, I’d say you’re doing a little more than just trying.”
The implied compliment warms my chest, but I’m here on a mission. “I’ve only released the one song.” My hands unclasp, falling uneasily at my sides. “That’s actually part of the reason I’m here. Well, at least the reason I’m backstage here, I wanted to come see your show before I’d even really written anything.” Shaking my head briefly, I take a settling breath. “I’m rambling, sorry, everyone at home’s always calling me out for it.” I try to force a polite laugh, but I think it comes out as more of a sigh. “I um--there’s kind of a long story about my label and my manager that I should probably preface what I’m about to say with, but I know you’re a busy man, so I’m just going to say that my manager sent me here to ask if you’d be willing to record a song with me.”
I feel myself deflate as the question comes out. My own words sound beyond childish and naive in my own ears. What could he possibly get from recording a song with me? One radio popular song is nothing compared to what he has. Even with all the controversy surrounding him, he can fill up any venue he books.
His silence forces me to hold my breath. “Like a duet?”
“If you’d be willing, but I realize who you are and the kinds of things you’re working on and Will, my manager, just insisted I give it some kind of chance, so I did.” I nod awkwardly, taking a step back. “I won’t take up anymore of your time, Mr. Presley. Thank you.”
My hand reaches for the door handle of the dressing room. This may be the most mortified I’ve ever felt. I’m never listening to Will again. From now on, business is business and performing is performing. He takes care of his end and I take care of mine.
“You gonna give me a chance to answer before runnin’ off on me?” His words come so suddenly I almost convince myself I imagined them.
I release the door handle. “Does that mean...you’re considering something?”
Elvis pauses, studying my expression. “It means I’m considering considering something.”
That’s more than I thought I’d get. “Really?”
“Anyone that can cause such a stir up with a single song’s worth consideration, Miss July.”
The fact that he called me that again makes something in my stomach flutter. “I really appreciate that, Mr. Presley.”
“If you wanna work together, you should get used to the idea of calling me by my first name.”
The invitation is coy, edged by his sharp blue eyes and something else I can’t distinguish. “You’re right. Thank you, Elvis.”
He smiles a little easier at that. “Now, I can’t promise anything, I’d need to talk to my manager and then depending on that he’d talk to yours and then they’d try to work out the legalities for both our sakes.”
“I owe you a thank you regardless. Thank you for not laughin’ me off and thank you for pulling me outta there when I didn’t know what to say.”
Elvis’s expression isn’t easy to read. “Like I said, no need to thank me.” He hesitates before searching the vanity for a spare scrap of paper and writing utensil. He finds an old receipt and a pen after a minute. “Just leave your contact information and then your manager’s.”
I barely manage to take the pen from him in order to give him what he needs. After that, I say a quick goodbye, not wanting to give him a chance to regret his actions, before leaving.
I close the door behind me when I leave. There are a million things I should probably be thinking about, but the only thing on my mind is getting back to Maisie and telling her everything.
----
Narrator’s POV
----
The Colonel and Elvis were back at it again, discussing how to turn anything into ‘snow’ in order to move Elvis’s career even further forward. After all, his ability to keep his audience entertained isn’t enough to combat large scale public opinion or keep him out of jail.
Though their conversation veered away from long term strategy in favor of discussing new merchandise and tour opportunities. Elvis even managed to bring up that girl, the one with the soft appearance that seemed like a magnet to everyone in her presence. He mumbled her request to The Colonel, expecting it to get brushed off.
It’s a shame in a sense, the girl, y/n, seemed as warm as the July from the title of her song. He liked the idea of having the excuse to reach out to her. He kept that receipt, tucked it into the pocket of his pants the second she left the dressing room.
“The girl--is she the same one that had all those people after her?” Elvis nodded, unsure about his manager’s interest. “Her manager told me she was coming. He didn’t give me any specifics. I wonder if that was planned or if he wanted to leave it up to us.”
Elvis sat up a little straighter. “Are you saying you think it’s a good idea?”
Tom Parker shrugged. “You know music and I know snow, and with you, that girl could be turned into a blizzard while she fixes our problems.”
“I’m not following.”
“I saw her in the newspaper. She wears knee length skirts and she smiles when she’s supposed to smile. She’s what America wants to love, you are what they do love. Paired together, America feels like they can love you.” Elvis drew his eyebrows together, still confused. “She could be the treatment your image needs.” The colonel stopped, playing through ideas in his head. “I need to make a call and I need you to trust me.”
Business Practical: chapter II
A/N can't believe people wanted to be tagged in this :))) thank you for the feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments are always super appreciated!
Series Summary: After the release of your hit single, you think that the rest of your career is set. Or at the very least, you’re guaranteed an easy release of your next album. Too bad your label thinks your record’s going to fail if you don’t find someone famous enough to record a duet with you. Fortunately for you, your squeaky clean, America’s newest sweetheart image is just the kind of thing Elvis needs around him to protect himself from his own controversy.
Chapter I
Chapter Summary: Y/n receives an unexpected phone call.
(this chapter is kind of short but the idea I have for chapter 3 is a lot of fun and i wanted it to be its own separate thing)
Y/n’s POV
The night of the Elvis concert, I came back with a strange thrill in my chest. I came home with the kind of foolishly optimistic excitement that you keep to yourself. The kind of excitement that you only let yourself revel in at night when you’re completely alone.
Everyone at home was on me the second I walked through the door. My mother wanted to know all about the business side of things (did he say yes? did he seem like someone you could work with?) and my sister wanted to know about Elvis (did he look like he does on the television? did you actually speak to him). Even my niece stayed up past her bedtime just so she could ask me what it was like.
I kept my answers brief and excitement level low. After all, nothing was guaranteed. It was a miracle Elvis even said he’d consider considering something. Even though the rational part of me knew that there was a high probability that he was just being polite, I couldn’t help but keep myself next to a phone at all times for the next three days. I intercepted every phone call I could, even though each time I answered and it wasn’t anyone important a little part of me began to lose hope.
Elvis was a long shot anyways. I should probably schedule a meeting with Will and see if there’s anything else we can do to appease my label. Maybe there’s a more attainable artist for me to work with or a certain type of song that they think will be successful.
Still, I’m not ready to deal with it all. I’ll call Will eventually, but if he was really worried about my deal with the label, he’d have called by now. I have some time before I freak out so I should just focus on things I can control. Like what I’m doing tonight. Maisie’s cousin, Rose, is in town and I haven’t seen her in forever and they’re expecting me over for dinner.
“Y/n!” My mom’s voice rings up from the stairwell.
Sighing, I push the bathroom door open without looking away from the mirror. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to make my hair work with me for the last fifteen minutes. I was supposed to be at Maisie’s house ten minutes ago. “Yes, mama?” Frowning, I stick another pin into my hair. “I can’t babysit tonight, Maisie’s expecting me for dinner!”
“No, it’s not that--it’s--” There’s a moment of long silence before she finally says, “Someone’s on the phone for you!”
My first assumption would be Maisie, but she practically expects me to be late and my mom would have just passed along her message. Maybe it’s Will, calling me to finally give me some sense of direction.
I exit the bathroom, walking down the short hall and into my bedroom. Sitting down on my bed, I pick up the extension that’s on my nightstand. “Hello?”
“Is that you, Miss July?”
Oh my god. He called. He actually called. I press the receiver into my chest, roll over, and quickly squeal into the nearest pillow I can grasp. Recovering in less than a second, I sit up. “Mama! I’ve got the phone, can you--”
“Already walked away from the living room extension!”
Thank goodness. The last thing I need is my mom monitoring this conversation. I’m surprised she hasn’t already scared him off. Lifting the phone to my ear I take a deep breath, “Y’know my name’s Y/n.”
“If I didn’t know it before, I certainly know it now.” I’m not sure I understand his words or the partial laugh that follows, but that’s okay, because it only takes him a moment to elaborate. “Your mama sure does like talking about you.”
I let myself cringe, grateful that he can’t see my expression. How long was my mom on the phone with him? What did she say? I wouldn’t put her past telling him a story about when I was little or something even worse. She knows about my sister and I staying up late on school nights to watch his live performances.
Adjusting my hold on the receiver, I suppress a groan, “Oh, I can feel all the damage that’s been done.”
He laughs a little more freely. “No damage. She’s nice and proud a’ you.” I’m not convinced. “She also told me an interesting story or two about you, your sister, and a few lates nights on my behalf.”
My face feels hot. “Of course she told you about that.”
“Don’t be embarrassed, I always love talking to my fans.”
I sigh, resting my back against the headboard of my bed. “Think I might reconsidering my position on that.”
“Wow, and here I was calling you to let you know I wanna record song with you only to find out you’re already over me. You’re breaking my heart.”
I nearly drop the receiver. “Hold on--you--you wanna record a song with me?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, I told you I’d consider considering it, and then that turned into considering it, and then thinkin’ about it, and now I’m calling you.”
I sit up a little more, placing my feet on the ground beneath me. “If I’m being honest, I thought you were just being polite.” Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I think through of all the things I could say. “You said you’d have to speak to your manager and that they’d speak to mine, and since mine didn’t call I really wasn’t expecting anything, especially not today.”
Oh, yeah--today. Maisie and her cousin are still waiting, but they’ll definitely excuse my lateness for this. “That’s on me, I wanted to be the one to tell you.” He clears his throat, “I um--there’s a lot of details to sort through, mainly artistic ones, so I figured we’d need to talk.”
I’m about to respond when I recognize a familiar, soft breathing. Rolling my eyes, I already feel my future embarrassment. “Maria, get off the phone.”
My niece’s breathing picks up. She’s weighing her options like she has any. “You’re on the phone with Elvis Presley!”
“Elvis, I’m so sorry, my niece knows she’s not supposed to listen in on other people’s conversations.” I sigh as I turn my attention back to Maria. “Maria Anne, Get off the phone before I tell your mama you’ve been eavesdropping again.”
“But Auntie,” she whines.
This is the first time I’ve ever wanted my sister to actually follow through on punishing her. She’s a good kid, but has absolutely no concept on boundaries. “Your name’s Maria?” My niece’s name feels strange coming from him.
Maria enthusiastically replies, “Yes.”
“Well, Maria, I’m Elvis,” He pauses long enough for both of us to hear Maria’s poorly concealed squeal. “If you listen to your Auntie and let us talk a little business, I promise I’ll meet you real soon.”
“Really?” She gasps. “Alright. Goodnight Auntie, goodnight Elvis.” Maria practically giggles her name before I hear her leave the line.
I laugh softly when I’m sure she’s gone. “Sorry about her, she’s a sweet kid, she’s just going through a phase where she thinks she’s all grown up and doesn’t want to listen to anyone.”
“No need to apologize, she seems like a cute kid.” He’s quick to clear his throat. “So, about discussing things, I’m in town for a few days, takin’ a bit of a break.” He stalls as he says that. I wonder if he’s thinking about the papers and the accusations. That kind of controversy must take a toll on a person. “You doing anything tonight?” My mind briefly flits to Maisie and Rose. “I was gonna meet some friends somewhere familiar in hopes of working through some things.”
I know what mama would say if I asked her if I could go meet Elvis and his friends this late in the afternoon. The sun’s practically set, I’d have a better chance at being excused from Sunday service. My mama cares about my career more than practically anything, but she’d insist I reschedule somewhere professional. She’d insist that there’s a way to do things like this in order to make sure I don’t seem like one of the ‘easy looking’ girls she can’t. help but subtly point out on occasion in public.
She may be accepting of Elvis in the sense that she understands his appeal and respects his level of success, but she doesn’t want me to be exactly like him. As the world has proven, it’s not marketable and it’s not socially acceptable. I’m not sure which fact would bother my mother more.
She’d also tell me all the stories of young girls who believed themselves to be women and so they went out with men, not letting anyone know where they are. Good things rarely happen to those girls.
“Somewhere familiar?”
“It’s a good place for music,” he says, “I can pick you up if you’d like.”
The offer hangs there for a long second. Out of all the facts to consider, I can’t help but think about Maisie. She’s never once stood me up, especially for a guy, but I can practically hear her in my head. Don’t play it so safe you keep yourself out of the game. Don’t waste this opportunity.
“You have some friends coming?”
“Just a few familiar faces, nothing you should be nervous about.”
That makes sense. He’s back home, of course he’d have some friends he wants an excuse to meet up with. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d mind if I brought some friends.”
“Anything you want, Miss July.”
“I’ll give you the address.”
I resite Maisie’s address into the receiver. After a moment he tells me he’d be by in about 30 minutes. I’m not sure it’s possible for my plan to work in work in 30 minutes, but I guess it’s going to have to. After he hangs up, I rush into my sister’s room.
Thankfully, Maria’s bedtime isn’t for a little while. She’s still in the living room, which means my sister and I can talk freely. “Wanda!”
She looks away from the book she’s reading. “Yeah?”
“Mama’s leaving to visit her Uncle James tonight right? And she has to leave around 8:00 to make her flight?” Wanda nods, unsure about my sudden interest in our mother’s travel plans. She planned this brief trip about a week ago after Great Uncle James had heart surgery. He’s fine, but she’s using the last of her vacation days to be with him and make sure everything’s running the way it’s supposed to be. “Okay, well, I need you to help me find something to wear.”
----
Taglist: @kittycatcait219 @wonderlandlovelove @alligator-person
And another thing about the gold digger part ain't it funny how after he died and was getting all this attention from ALL around the world, out of nowhere she decides to change her last name back to Presley even tho Elvis had asked her NOT TOO, published her book, made a few movies, and much more!!! And then when they made the movie "ELVIS" and he starts getting recognition again is when she decides to make yet AGAIN ANOTHER movie about her book she wrote IN THE GODDAMN 80s 😒 cuz let's not forget she has made MANY more movies on this same subject, drops a FUCKIN skincare brand, and goes on this tour talking YET AGAIN about her book from the 80s 😭 like idk about you but the timing of EVERYTHING she does is a little fishy 🤨🧍🏻♀️🤷🏻♀️ I DONE SENTENCE HER OUT TO BE A GOLD MOTHER FLIPPING DIGGER 👩🏻⚖️⚖️🪧 and also let's not forget she would be a NOBODY if it wasn't for the Elvis mother freaking Aaron Presley!!!! 😱
Lord I wasn't gonna do this but now I HAVE TOO 😭😭😭
This is to the Priscilla fans that love to CLAIM that Elvis was a "bad husband" She herself admitted to parts of the "movie" are fake yet she still let the "movie" be released!!!! And in every interview I've seen of her she's changed the story or says that parts of the movie didn't actually happen in real life not only the movie but with her book (Elvis and me) just like I this interview!¿!¿!¿!¿! Like girl 👀👀 make it make sense!!!!! And it's been since Elvis passed this girl keeps changing "her" story over and over again and she's not even trying to do it on the down low she's changed it DRAMATICALLY to the point where it's getting annoying 🙄!!!! ANDDDDDD it's not the only part of "her" movie or her book it's with many more INCLUDING the INFAMOUS pillow scene!!!!! So for those who believed everything sorry to say it was ALL LIES 🤷🏻♀️🚫🤮
I love this man so much!!!! I feel like every day I love him just a little more!!!!❤️💓💞
✨In the light you're sickeningly beautiful✨~
🌹❤️
🫀🥀say you'll never leave me🥀🫀~~~
all credits to owner 😉
😉 Dear Elvis, may you have the BIGGEST of them all 😉
and yes he did 🫣🫦
(credits to the owner 😘)
🎸🔥you're playing your guitar, and it's turning me on 🔥🎸
🤭 🤤you got your eyeliner, long hair, walking around like you don't care 🤤🤭
✨You got me in the back of your car like a star✨
(all credits to the owner 🥵)
G.I.
Hope you like it
😏🤭😚
🙏🥺"be my, be my baby, my one and only baby!"🙏🥺
(all credits to owner 🫶😊)
🥰😚MY love for YOU will NEVER DIE!😚🥰
✨OuUoOuUo✨
I will love you forever my Elvis Presley!<3 💋💝
(all credits to owner 🫶)