There comes a point where we, as a society, have to ask ourselves: How far are we willing to go to get a laugh? And more importantly—at whose expense? Because if we're still using Elvis Presley’s weight as a punchline nearly five decades after his death, something’s broken, and it’s not just our sense of humor—it’s our sense of humanity.
Elvis wasn’t a meme. He was a man. A deeply complicated, wildly gifted, heart-achingly human being. A Southern boy with gospel in his soul and pain in his eyes. He gave everything to the world—his voice, his body, his youth, his sanity. And for what? For us to remember him not as the electric, trailblazing force of nature he was, but as some lazy caricature of “fat Elvis dying on a toilet”? That’s not just disrespectful. It’s cruel. And it’s lazy.
What a lot of people forget—or ignore—is that Elvis struggled. He was sick. He was overworked. He was exploited. The same machine that built him up tore him to shreds. He was trapped by fame, chewed up by a system that saw dollar signs where there should have been support. He suffered from health issues, addiction, and intense mental strain. The weight gain? That was a symptom, not a punchline. But people love to reduce things they don’t understand. It’s easier to laugh at a man than to feel empathy for him. But easier doesn't mean right.
We talk so much about mental health awareness and compassion now—but where’s that energy when we look back at someone like Elvis? He gave his life, literally, to entertain us. He died at 42, exhausted and alone. And somehow people still find a way to mock him as if he was some washed-up has-been who let himself go. No. He was a man crumbling under the pressure of being the most famous person on Earth. And we owe him more than jokes at his expense.
What’s even sadder is how this reflects our society’s obsession with body image. As if someone’s weight invalidates their worth. As if a person stops being a legend the second they gain a few pounds. That mindset? That’s toxic. It’s outdated. It’s dangerous. And it needs to end. Because if Elvis can be the King of Rock and still get mocked, what does that say to the rest of us just trying to exist in our own bodies?
He changed the world with his music. He broke barriers. He gave the voiceless a sound. He moved in ways that got people banned from TV and in love all at once. He inspired generations. And even in his worst moments, even in pain, even bloated, broken, medicated, he still sang. He still performed. He still showed up.
If that’s not strength, I don’t know what is.
So maybe instead of laughing at the image of “fat Elvis,” we should mourn the fact that no one helped him when he needed it most. Maybe we should celebrate the man who made music feel alive. Maybe we should respect the legacy, not tear it down for shallow, outdated jokes.
Let’s retire the fat jokes. Let’s stop dragging the dead. Let’s remember Elvis Presley the way he deserves to be remembered—not for the weight he gained, but for the weight he carried.
Initially set in 1967 when Elvis is filming Clambake. Feeling miserable and trapped after the Colonel banishes Larry and the spiritual texts, Elvis invites Gloria to keep him company through the last five days of filming. Gloria is an aspiring movie editor and more importantly she's a lot of fun. Will she be what Elvis needs to get him out of the depressive funk he's in?
Catch up with the other parts here.
Many thanks to @sissylittlefeather being my beta reader on this one.
A/N: This is the final part. I wanted to write an epilogue but this was so difficult to write I don't think I can. I cried all the way through it and I cried when I edited it too. I am really sorry to have made a story that ends like this, but this is how it is.
Pairing: Elvis x OC - Gloria, a budding film editor.
Word count: 2.7K
TWs: Description of Elvis' failing health, erectile dysfunction, consensual somno, p in v sex, and death. Please prepare yourself for the end of this.
They spend the rest of the week at Graceland enjoying one another’s company. Elvis feels a sense of peace that settles over him like a warm blanket that cold January, and he wishes it could go on forever. Gloria is happy too, finally having time with Elvis and no demands on either of them. She particularly enjoys getting to know Larry, who she thinks of as Elvis’ spiritual hairdresser, talking about all sorts of crazy things. She recognises him as a kindred spirit - maybe not quite on the basis of religion or even belief generally, but as someone who wants the best for Elvis and actively tries to help him. Larry likes Gloria too, especially the effect that she has on Elvis. He’s sure Parker wouldn’t be happy about her if he knew she was here, but then again maybe he wouldn’t mind her, since there seemed to be no way she could be a permanent fixture in Elvis’ life. The days at Graceland are full of reading and talking, singing and playing games in the snow. Gloria is sad when she has to leave but she’s been missing her kids too. It’s the longest she’s spent without them, and the ache in her heart feels almost physical. There are a lot of tears and promises when she leaves, though every time she and Elvis part she worries a little more if there will be a next time.
***
Gloria keeps her promise about visiting, but it’s hard to find times that work for the kids, Roger and Elvis. They manage twice that year, and it’s wonderful both times. Somehow she manages another visit in early 1976, and then Elvis tells her he’s playing two dates at Cow Palace in November and puts her name on the door. He’d looked tired when she saw him last, and she’s worried about seeing him perform for the first time in four years. She’s still never spoken to him about his health, but she sees the pills and she stays awake a lot when she’s with him, remembering what Jerry had said. Once she finds he’s stopped breathing and has to shake him awake, calling out desperately for help. He comes round, but it scares her. It scares her a lot that they might not have much time left.
***
Somehow the Cow Palace show is incredible. Elvis is bright and engaged and as she watches him, Gloria feels like she’s falling in love all over again. He’s fired Red and Sonny West, so Jerry is his only remaining body guard now, and it’s easy for him to persuade Jerry that they don’t have to stay in the hotel that night. He arrives to Gloria’s house under cover of darkness and the kids are overwhelmed with joy to see him.
Once they’re in bed he peels his jumpsuit off his tired body, standing in the middle of Gloria’s bedroom. He’s so exhausted he forgets to be self-conscious, and when she walks in from tucking the kids in she finds him standing there in just the little white pants he had to wear with the suit. His hair is still damp with sweat, and the hair on his chest seems darker and thicker than ever. He turns to look at her, eyes half-closed.
“I need ta shower, honey.”
Gloria has a little ensuite with just a shower, and she ushers him towards it. It’s obvious he’s too tired for this really, so when he gets in and just stands there under the faucet not moving, she gets in too. It’s a tight squeeze and as she starts to rub soap on his chest she realises she didn’t even take her clothes off. He’s not the only exhausted one.
“Thanks honey,” he whispers, not questioning what she’s doing or the fact that she’s doing it fully-clothed.
She rubs soap all over him and then helps him rinse it off. He steps out of the shower, shakily, and she quickly strips off her wet clothes, leaving them there before finding him a towel and wrapping him up in it. He’s still and his eyes are almost closed, so she dries him too, leading him back into the bedroom once she’s dried herself off.
Elvis lies down with a groan. He’s exhausted. He can’t help but feel that he gave his all at that show, but he knows he has to do it again tomorrow.
“Can’t keep doin’ this,” he mumbles, as Gloria tucks him in and then gets in next to him. Her hair is wet, so she puts a towel down on her pillow.
“You need a break,” she whispers.
“I sure do.”
She leans her head against his chest, her fingers rubbing one of his sideburns. They’re so big now she feels like he’s on his way to growing a beard.
“Remember we used to talk about going to Hawaii?”
He smiles, eyes still closed. “Course. Think about it all the time. Runnin’ away to Hawaii with you and the kids. Livin’ out the rest a my days peacefully in the sun.”
Gloria feels her heart break in two at his words. The rest of my days.
“Maybe we can go there on vacation? I’m sure I could work something out.”
“That would be wonderful honey… maybe next year…” he starts to trail off, his words slurring as he falls into a deep sleep.
She stays awake, watching him, staring at his beautiful profile and wondering how she got so lucky and yet so unlucky at the same time.
***
When Elvis calls her and asks her to run away with him to Hawaii she doesn’t hesitate. Not just because she’s afraid if she says no she might never see him again, but because Roger has lost interest in Corey and Jackie and moved to Nebraska to be with the maid. She’d stuck around for a bit with the baby, but then wanted a clean break from the mess in Frisco and decided to go back to be near her family. Roger had tried to do both, but in the end he told Gloria he was waiving his right to custody in favour of the maid and her little one. His other son. She doesn’t care for herself, but she’s devastated for the kids. Particularly Jackie, who’s such a Daddy’s girl. Corey had never been the same with his dad since that fateful night, and even though he was very small at the time, she feels like he remembers what happened.
The group that arrives in Honolulu is small and tightly knit. Only Larry and Jerry are there from the Mafia, although Charlie promises to arrive in a few days. Pat travels with Gloria and the kids to help out with childcare. She’d agreed to it after her sister had broken down one evening, telling her about her fears around Elvis’ health. When they see him at the resort neither think her fears were unfounded. His face is swollen and so is his belly, and he looks more tired than ever. But he’s joyful, being in Hawaii with Gloria at last. He’s only told Jerry and Larry that this isn’t really a vacation. To everyone else, he’s just having a break before his next tour. To them, he’s going and not coming back. He hates the idea of letting his fans down but he thinks he’ll end up doing it eventually anyway, and at least this way he’s got control over it. He’s set up as many traps as he possibly can for Joe and the Colonel to fall into before they realise what he’s doing and try to drag him back. But he feels old and tired now, even though he’s only 42. He’s lived a full life. It’s time to relax in a place he loves with the people he loves best.
***
Elvis might be tired, but the sun and sand do revive him, and he spends his days playing with the kids and his nights trying his hardest to give Gloria the most pleasure he can. She tells him she doesn’t need multiple orgasms a night and he should rest, but he doesn’t listen. He hasn't had an erection for over a year now, but he makes up for it with his hands and his mouth. Gloria is only sad that she can’t give him anything back, kissing all over his body and gently sucking his soft dick.
One night, he’s so caught up in holding and kissing her that he falls asleep without taking his pills and wakes up in a panic in the early hours of the morning. Scrambling around to look for them, he suddenly realises that he’s woken up with something else too. He touches himself but it fades quickly and his heart sinks with disappointment. His hand closes around the pill bottle but he pauses after he shakes them into his hand. Maybe a few more days without them and he’d be able to get hard again. He wants to do that for her, for his Glory. She deserves someone who can satisfy her, one last time. He doesn’t know which ones are causing the problem, so he stops taking them all. It doesn’t help with his pain, or his mood, but three days later he wakes up at 6am with a raging hard-on and remembers what Gloria had said about any time.
“Glory,” he whispers, shaking her a little, but she’s fast asleep.
His hand trails down her body until his fingers find her clit. Circling it, he watches her react in her sleep, wriggling and sighing. The pain in his belly is excruciating, but the ache in his dick is more important. And the feeling that this is their last chance to properly be together. Things have been escalating with the Colonel and he’s sure someone will be here soon to try and drag him back to Memphis. His fingers slip inside her pussy as he continues to stimulate her clit with his thumb, feeling her getting wetter as she gets closer to orgasm. When it hits she makes a surprised little noise, her eyes fluttering open and looking up at him.
“Is it… are you?” She mumbles, confused and euphoric and hopeful all at the same time.
“He’s awake,” Elvis replies, pulling the covers back to show her his hard, weeping dick.
Her eyes are full of list staring at first his dick and then his face, thinking about how much she wants him inside her. How much she wants to feel close to him like that again.
“Fuck. Oh I want you so bad, big boy. Please fuck me.”
He pushes her knees up so her feet come off the bed and positions himself between her legs. Slowly, gradually pushing inside her, watching her face, stopping when he can see it’s hurting her and carrying on when she gently touches his arm. When he’s fully inside he lies on top of her like he did that day on the beach in California, his head buried in her shoulder. He starts to move inside her slowly and her arms wrap around him as she feels tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She knows this is the last time. And not because he’s getting married, or because she is, but for a much more permanent reason this time. She knows he’s dying and she feels like he ran away to Hawaii to do it. She’ll never feel this again and as his movements speed up she can’t stop the tears spilling down her cheeks.
“N-no. No, Elvis. Slow down. I want… I want to enjoy this. P-please.”
He moves his head to look at her as he forces himself to move slowly. When he sees her crying he knows she knows too. He presses his lips against hers as his tears start to flow. Their tears mingle as he rolls his hips against her, both of them sighing with pleasure even as their hearts break.
“So tired, baby,” he mumbles against her lips.
Her hand goes to his cheek. “I know. I know.”
“Haveta… has to end…” he continues, and she feels him speed up.
Sobs wrack her body as she closes her eyes to feel him better. He comes with a small cry, and then he’s still. Softening inside her as he lies there, panting. She can’t stop weeping, and when he finally moves his head she sees he can’t either.
“I wish I’d never let you leave that beach!” She cries out, unable to stop herself.
“I wish I’d never gone. We shoulda run away together then, Glory. I shoulda been braver.”
She throws her arms around him, pulling him against her tightly. “It’s not your fault. Oh fuck. I love you so much. I don’t want you to… can’t you get well?”
She feels him shake his head against her. “Too late, baby. Too late fer all that. Jus’ have to hope the Colonel doesn’t get here first.”
First. Before he dies. Gloria wonders if she’ll ever stop crying. Then she remembers Corey and Jackie. She’ll have to.
***
Pat agrees to take the kids to one of the other islands for a couple of days when Elvis’s condition takes a radical turn for the worse. They say goodbye to him like they’ll see him again soon, and she doesn’t have the heart to tell them this is most likely goodbye for good. She thinks on some level they know, even though he’s trying to act cheerful for them, he’s been in bed for the past few days and can barely get out of it. She called Priscilla and got her to bring Lisa-Marie for a day too, so that his little girl could see her daddy for the last time. Priscilla and Pat get on well and Elvis’ ex-wife decides to go with them to the other island, make a proper vacation out of it. Part of her wants to stay and be with Elvis when he dies, but she sees he has someone else for that.
She does stay to watch Larry marry them though. He performs a little ceremony whilst they sit in the bed in Elvis’ suite. Gloria helped Elvis dress and he’s in a white suit with a pale blue shirt underneath. She wears white too, and a garland of flowers in her hair. They even have a little cake afterwards, and Gloria throws her garland for Lisa-Marie and Jackie to fight over. Lisa-Marie wins. Any worries the kids might’ve had about Elvis were blown away by the wedding, tiny though it is, and they leave full of joy. Things get worse for Elvis as soon as they’re gone. He’s used up all his energy on staying cheerful for them, and on marrying Gloria. He lies down in the bed and sighs with exhaustion. Not long now.
Gloria stays by his side for two days and nights, keeping herself awake with coffee and stimulants, watching over him. On the third day she feels herself getting drowsy.
“I’m just going to take a little nap, big boy.”
His head moves slowly to look at her. She kisses him gently, and is about to pull away when he pushes his tongue into her mouth, his hand somehow making its way to the back of her neck. She savours the kiss, but she’s almost asleep. Her eyes close.
“I love you, Gloria. You’re the love of my life. I’ve never known anyone like you. You’re my girl.” It takes a tremendous effort for Elvis to get the words out, but he has to say them. His head falls back on the pillow with exhaustion when he finishes.
“Love you… too… Elvis…” the words slur as she falls into a deep sleep. Part of her brain is telling her she shouldn’t, but she’s been awake for too long and her body takes over.
He watches her as he feels the life slipping away from his body.
His Glory. In Hawaii. At last.
Softly, I will leave you softly / For my heart would break if you should wake and see me go / So I leave you softly, long before you miss me / Long before your arms can beg me stay / For one more hour or one more day
***
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Also, I hate, hate, hate that so many uninformed idiots just think "hur dur, '70s Elvis was fat." The "Fat Elvis" trope needs to die a lonely death. This man is looking like a snack, stop it.
This just occurred to me but when I think of Elvis I don't think of ELVIS! The entertainer and spectacular singer and everything(even though he was) when I think of Elvis I think of the man I feel I know. You know? Like the little boy in a man's body who loved pranks and guns, was naughty, but also incredibly kind and generous. The man who was so selfless he gave his all to everyone even if it was at the expense of himself. The man who loved so hard and unconditionally that he'd retire his own needs. The southern Christian Tupelo boy who would call everyone "ma'am" and "sir" even when told not to. The man who would drop everything at the drop of a hat to be with or help out whether that be immediate family, friends, or fans. Granted he had his moments too....foul temper, deceiving sometimes...but overall always trying to be better for everyone else. Always striving for perfection. When I hear Elvis I don't hear "ELVIS" the 3 shows a day for 5-6 nights a week in a white flared bedazzled jumpsuit. I think of that little christian country boy who just loved his music, food, family, and friends. That's who I think of. This is very brief and quickly(and sloppily) put together because it's late but...I think you get the gist 🤣
Anyway sorry this is so random! Just bedtime thoughts 🤣🤣
Anyway....TCB⚡❤️❤️ OR TLC (whichever floats your boat)
A fic set in Vegas in 1971 at the start of Elvis' first residency that year, where he meets a Vegas showgirl who isn't interested. Smutty, fluffy, angsty drama.
To catch up with the other parts, go here. As always, thanks go to @vintagepresley for the idea in the first place and continued inspo! And many thanks to @eapep for her editing skills!
18 and over only.
Pairing: Elvis + OC - Mia, a Vegas showgirl
Wordcount: 3.3K ish
TW: Drug abuse, health issues, angry!Elvis, a little bit of violence, crying, oral (f receiving), then much fluff.
A/N: This is the final part! I fully sobbed when I finished writing this. It's been a real labour of love and I will miss Mia and Elvis and their little world. Not to say that we might not go back and see how they're doing from time to time, but for now this is the end of their story.
“I’m so tired. Elvis this schedule is impossible.” Mia collapses down onto the sofa, still in her stage outfit. They’re more than half way through the stint in Tahoe, and she only has a two hour break before she’s due back on stage again. Things have got worse since she started going on with him to do a song or two in the middle of his set.
“It’s not impossible. You just need one of these shots,” he looks over to Dr Nick. “Nick, give her a shot.”
Dr Nick moves warily over to Mia. She pulls a face and puts her hand out to stop him. “Dr Nick do not give her a shot. She has autonomy over her own body.”
Elvis is standing over the other side of the room, still in his jumpsuit, sodden with sweat. One of his legs is jiggling about and he's fiddling incessantly with one of his big rings. Two of the tell-tale signs that Nick had been in here giving him a shot before the second show. As if she didn’t know already.
“Well don’t blame me if you can’t hack it.”
Mia stands up, annoyed now. “If I can’t hack it? You’re the one taking enough pharmaceuticals to floor an elephant.”
Dr Nick moves from foot to foot awkwardly. Mia wasn’t often in the room when he was treating Elvis, but he’d already got the impression she wasn’t keen on all of the drugs. He isn’t keen on all of the drugs either, but Elvis will only find someone else if he stops prescribing. He’s never seen them fight before, and he would like to get out before it turns nasty. He knows Elvis has a temper.
Elvis starts moving towards her in that ominous way he has, his lip curling, blowing furious air out of his nose. “I need them. This is none of your damn business woman.”
“None of my business! I’m only living with you and engaged to marry you!”
“Well maybe you need to learn to do as you’re told.” He grabs one of her arms and starts trying to manoeuvre her towards Nick, who is looking quite alarmed by this point. Mia wriggles and tries to get him off her. She sees his other hand coming to grab her and aims a kick at one of his shins. “Ow!” He almost shrieks. She uses the opportunity to pull her arm free and then slaps him across the face for good measure.
“You are not the boss of me!” She screams.
“You come back here,” he hisses as she stands, panting in front of him.
She thinks that she hasn’t actually gone anywhere and he could grab her from here if he really wanted to.
“I’m not having a damn shot, Elvis. I’m sick of seeing you take all this stuff. I’m sick of waking up in the night and checking if you’re still breathing. I’m sick of worrying about you all the time. I want you to rest,” she finds herself faltering, holding back tears. “I love you.”
He closes the gap between them, and for a moment she can’t tell if he’s going to kiss her or hit her. He pushes her the few steps back it takes to hit the wall, and then his mouth is on hers, his tongue pushing insistently into her mouth, his hands grabbing her arms and pressing them against the wall next to her head. Somewhere that sounds like a million miles away she hears the clunk of the door. Nick must’ve finally had enough.
“Baby I love you too,” he says, when he finally comes up for air. “I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”
He starts slowly unzipping her catsuit, kissing her newly exposed skin as he goes. He stops briefly to pay her nipples some attention, but it’s clear where he’s headed, as he presses kisses to her stomach and slides the zipper down all of the way to where it finishes between her legs. She gasps when he first licks her clit, firmly and repeatedly, looking down to see him on his knees in front of her, worshipfully. His tongue dips down lower, tasting her properly, his lips and chin slick with her juices. She whines, desperate for more contact.
“Put your leg on my shoulder baby,” he says, the words buzzing against her.
She does, feeling his fingers spreading her cunt so he can better access it, lapping at her, pushing his tongue inside. His thumb moves to rub her clit as he carries on licking, the fingers of his other hand digging into the skin of her thigh and ass. She moans, grabbing her breasts and rubbing her nipples. She’s so turned on even just at the sight of him kneeling in front of her like this, burying his face in her cunt, licking and sucking like his life depends on it.
He moves to suck on her clit now, looking up at her as he does it, his hair soaked with sweat from the show earlier and her arousal all over his face. He slides a finger inside her and curls it slightly, waiting to hear her reaction. She groans, feeling him hit that spot inside of her and wriggling to try and get more contact from his tongue.
“Hold my head Mimi. Do whatever you want with me.”
She shivers at the words. She loves it when he tells her to use him like this.
“Another finger…please,” she just about manages.
He nods and slips a second finger inside her.
She reaches down and takes hold of his head, fingers digging into his damp hair. She starts to roll her hips so that her clit rubs against his tongue, holding onto him gently and then as the pleasure starts to build she finds herself gripping him desperately, pushing her cunt into his face, not really caring anymore if he can breathe. She’s so close now, all she can think of is reaching that high. As her orgasm washes over her she grips his head even more tightly, crying out and feeling tears falling down her cheeks. She shakes and cries, finally letting him go and sliding down the wall, somehow getting her leg off his shoulder and ending up sitting in a little pile at the bottom of it.
“Fuck, honey.” Elvis is beet red, and he’s taking great gasping breaths.
She looks over at him, and realises she might’ve actually been suffocating him. “Oh shit. Are you alright?”
“Honey. You’re crying.”
Mia laughs, even though she’s still crying. “I’m crying, you’re nearly suffocated, this is all going great.”
He moves to try and kiss her and she holds her hands up in front of her face. “Ahh. Wash your face!”
He laughs and grabs her arms, pinning them to her sides. “No,” he replies, kissing her on the mouth. She can feel the slickness of his lips, covered in her juices, and taste herself on his tongue. “If you’re going to smother me the least you can do is kiss me afterwards.”
She laughs, and then he pulls her into his arms, leaning against the wall himself. “Baby why were you crying? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”
“I just felt overwhelmed. I love you so much and I really want this to work, but it’s just fucking exhausting. I’m sorry I nearly killed you.”
He chuckles into her ear. “It’s okay, I asked for it. In more ways than one. And I love it when you’re so uninhibited like that, especially all over my face.”
She squeals. It smells like sex and sweat all around her. They really need to shower before the next show.
He nuzzles her neck. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have got mad at you. You’re right, we can’t carry on like this. But I don’t know what else to do.”
***
They somehow finish the Tahoe commitment but tell Jerry and the Colonel that there’s no way they can keep up that level of work. It was what they’d suspected would happen, and although the Colonel has his views on how many shows Elvis and Mia should do, for once he keeps his mouth shut. Jerry has been a good influence on him from that perspective. He’s learning how to diversify, has even thought of taking on one or two more clients. Jerry suggests one show a night is more reasonable, tours could be longer but there would be more gaps between dates and fewer residencies. Mia and Elvis both agree, and leave the meeting somewhat relieved.
Mia knows the amount of shows isn’t the only problem though, and so she decides to broach something with Elvis as she watches him rubbing his belly and grimacing.
“What do you think about checking yourself into a hospital?”
Elvis almost jumps. “What? There’s nothing wrong with me!”
Mia puts her hand on top of his. “You’re not in any pain just now?”
He sighs. “Okay, but… hospital?”
“Please. For me. I’ll stay in there with you. We can order in whatever food you want. But I think you need to go and get checked out, and… maybe you need to come off some of what you’ve been taking.”
She’s very nervous about the last part of the sentence. He’s never taken interference in the drugs he takes very well in the past. She had thought she wouldn’t interfere in that part of his life, but the shows at Tahoe showed her that she had to. She watches his face twist into a variety of different expressions, as if he’s having a not-very-internal battle with himself.
“You’ll stay with me the whole time? Even if they want to do things to me? Look for stuff? You’ll be there? You promise?” He’s starting to sound a little panicked, but it seems like the agreeable Elvis has won this time.
“Yes. I won’t let them throw me out of the room. I’ll be there with you the whole time I promise.”
He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay then.”
***
Mia keeps her word. They check into the hospital together and she’s there holding his hand as they do blood tests, check his blood pressure, put drops in his eyes. When they tell him he needs a colonoscopy he looks at her and she tells him it will be okay and she will hold his hands and talk to him the whole time. He nods like a frightened child but does whatever she says. They slowly take him off the complicated mixture of pharmaceuticals he’s been taking since he was in the army, working out exactly what he needs rather than what he wants. Mia stays up a lot of the nights, lying in the bed with him, stroking his hair and wiping his brow as he sweats and twists and turns uncomfortably in his sleep. With the best will in the world, his withdrawal is still horrible and he begs her to let him take something for it, crying in her arms.
A week after they first got there, he’s sat up in bed as she lays dozing after another tumultuous night.
“Hi there.” A voice Mia can’t quite place, deep and sonorous. She tries to ignore it, but Elvis’ response makes that impossible.
“Lawrence! It’s been so long!”
Elvis is feeling good for the first time since he checked into the hospital, and seeing Larry has made him genuinely excited, dropping the book he was reading and sitting up properly in bed. All of this jostles Mia so much she sits up again with a groan.
“How’re you doing, man?” Larry asks, sitting down on the armchair in the room.
“Great. So much better. They’ve taken me off a lot of things and… I do feel good for a change, Larry. They’re bringing me all these fresh fruits and vegetables and Mia is helping me decide which ones I like.”
He looks over at Mia, whose hair is absolutely everywhere, eyes barely open, looking like she needs to sleep for a week. He strokes her face. “Baby, why don’t you go to the room across the hall and get some proper sleep?”
The hospital staff had reserved them another room in case Mia wanted to sleep somewhere separately sometimes, but she hasn’t left his side for the whole week.
“You sure?” She replies, groggily.
“Of course, Angel. Larry can keep me company for a while and you look like you need to sleep somewhere comfy.”
She nods and shuffles off across the corridor.
“I hear you’re getting married?”
Elvis grins. “Yeah. When the divorce is finalised with Cilla, we certainly are.”
“I’m so pleased for you Elvis. Things really seem to be turning out well lately.”
Elvis is beaming. Things were turning out well. He has an idea to make them even better. “Say, you wanna be my best man?”
Larry is taken aback. They hadn’t been in touch much recently, a hair cut here and there and a few chats, but nothing like the intensity of their relationship previously. He’d been wondering if they were just drifting apart.
“I’d be honoured!”
Elvis reaches across to shake the other man’s hand, firmly. “Wonderful. I’m sure Mia will be pleased too.”
***
Mia had never thought she’d be so nervous on her wedding day. What is there to be nervous about? Fluffing up the words? Tripping over her dress and falling on her face? Actually, both of those seem like pretty bad options. She smooths her dress down and looks at herself in the mirror. Life on the road hasn’t exactly stopped the ageing process. If anything, it’s accelerated it. She had her grey hairs dyed back to brown in readiness for today, there’s a lot of strong elastic holding her not-so-little belly in and a face full of make-up hides her tired eyes and wrinkles. But she finds somehow that she doesn’t mind so much any more. Elvis’ hair is still white and he is completely unapologetic about it. He gets his reading glasses out when he needs to and he ignores the jibes from the guys. They worship one another’s bodies, no matter whether they find wrinkles or extra fat there. Elvis is particularly delighted by the fact that she’s put on a little extra weight on her ass, kissing and kneading it at every opportunity. Every morning he tells her how beautiful she is, or sings Mia In The Morning, no matter how many times she hits him with a pillow and tells him to shut up. The tests at the hospital showed that he has a problem with his intestine that makes his belly swell from time to time, and Mia makes sure to show him how much she loves him whenever it happens. He’s given up trying to push her away when she pushes his shirt up and kisses him all over. In fact, he almost looks forward to it.
Mia smiles at her reflection. It had been one helluva year. When she’d started 1971, performing on that stage in the Tropicana, she had no idea things would turn out like this. That she’d be getting ready to marry one of the most famous men in the world. That she’d be so in love with him.
“You ready?” Amanda asks. Mia had to spend an entire drunken day catching her up on everything that had happened over the past couple of months, but she was the only person she wanted as her maid of honour.
“As I’ll ever be.”
Her dad walks into the room, blinking back tears at how beautiful she looks in her dress.
“Time to go, pumpkin?”
Mia nods and takes his arm. Elvis had encouraged her to get back in contact with her parents, so she’d invited them to the show when they visited her hometown. She was surprised when they came, and even more surprised how proud they were of her. She suspects it has something to do with Elvis, who put on the world’s biggest charm-offensive when he met them, and who of course they loved instantly. Her dad was over the moon when she asked him to give her away at the wedding.
She can feel herself shaking as they walk slowly down the aisle to meet the man standing at the end of it. Elvis is shaking too, he’s asked Larry approximately 15 times already whether he still has the rings, and until he saw her for himself a few moments ago, he had completely convinced himself that Mia wasn’t coming. The walk is interminable for both of them, Elvis sweating and worrying about stuttering his vows and Mia concentrating on not falling over her own dress. When she finally gets there and they turn to face one another, holding each other’s hands tightly, they both let out shaky breaths. And then they realise what they’ve done and both giggle. It’s like the rest of the world completely disappears when they look at one another. Until, that is, the celebrant starts to speak.
“In the presence of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we have come together to witness the marriage of Elvis and Mia, to pray for God’s blessing on them, to share their joy and to celebrate their love.”
Despite their fears, the ceremony goes smoothly. Larry hands over the rings. No-one declares a reason they can’t get married, and neither of them mess up their vows. Elvis stutters a little but it just makes Mia love him more, if that were possible. They kiss passionately when they’re told they’re now man and wife, and little Lisa-Marie is the first person to start throwing confetti. Mia briefly wonders if it’s odd to have your husband’s ex-wife as one of your bridesmaids, but then decides she doesn’t care. Priscilla is still such a good friend to her, she’d even helped to pick out Mia’s dress.
The party that follows goes on well into the night. It starts with a first dance to actual Jackie Wilson performing (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher, and sometime around midnight Mia finds herself still in her wedding dress, trying to teach Red West how to rumba.
“Never thought you’d last, you know.” He says into her ear as she tries in vain to get him to stop standing on her feet.
“Oh really?” She laughs back, pushing his hip with hers.
“No. Thought he’d have enough of you being so bossy.”
“You should be concentrating or you won’t get any better.”
Red looks up at her. “I’m not really trying to get better, I’m enjoying you manhandling me if I’m honest.”
Mia bursts out laughing, shoving him back and away from her. “I’ll tell my husband you said that.”
“You’ll tell your husband he said, what?”
Elvis is suddenly behind her, his arms around her waist. She leans back against him and smirks. “Red West is trying to get close to me, husband.”
“Oh, is that so, wife?”
“Hmm yes. But I wouldn’t worry about him, I’m not interested.” She spins around in his arms and puts hers around his neck. “I just feel sorry for him.”
Elvis looks up at her and chuckles, humming with pleasure as she leans her forehead down against his. “He is pathetic, you’re right.”
Red rolls his eyes and huffs, wandering off to find someone else to annoy.
“How is my beautiful wife?” Elvis asks her as they sway back and forth to the music.
“I’ve never been better. How is my handsome husband?”
“I’ve never been happier. Today has been perfect. You’re perfect. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“I can’t wait either, lover.”
The band starts playing From A Jack To A King.
From a Jack to a King / From loneliness to a wedding ring / I played an Ace and I won a Queen / And walked away with your heart
***
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I saw this photo and I felt compelled to make it an Elvis fandom meme lol.
This photo is a perfect description of the entire Elvis fandom. We see Elvis just doing anything.. No matter what it is. We just look at him in shock and awe because how could one human being be so beautiful? Sing so beautiful? Be so funny, kind, gentle, silly, caring Just everything wonderful wrapped into one? It’s INSANITY.
Elvis not a day goes by we don't think about you. If we are sitting in our rooms looking at the posters of you we have on our walls, listening to your music or just watching TV we think of you. You are a icon, a inspiration and the original sexiest man alive. Years after your death people everywhere love you and it breaks all our hearts that you thought you never did anything last. Elvis, when i'm older and have kids I will be raising the next generation of Elvis fans. We all will never let you be forgotten. I hope you are enjoying time with Lisa, your grandson and your parents, but please know we wish you all where still with us. One day we will all be together and I look forward to that day.
All days I'm like, "Oh man, I love Elvis" - which is so weird because it has been like two or three years he's inside my mind 24/7... but there's special days where I look at his pictures, watch any of his movies or listen to his music and I'm like, "Holy mother of God, how in the world this guy existed? He is so amazing! The way he moved, the way he talked... Uhhhhhh... I can't... I can't deal with this feeling!!!"
The last thought I have practically every night, even if its only in the back of my head, is that I wanna have a dream of him just to have the slightest idea of how it would be to be right there in front of him.
areudirty
janainaart
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