Feb 16
Woah mama I hate reblog bait that's triggering for people with OCD. Hummina hummina you don't have to reblog a post to be supportive of people, mama
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Woah mama I hate reblog bait that's triggering for people with OCD. Hummina hummina you don't have to reblog a post to be supportive of people, mama
I WAS FINISHING UP THE BIG ART PIECE AND DRAWING THE OTHER ELVI AND THEN
ROBOT ELVIS GOT FUCKING DEACTIVATED NOOO NO NOOOOO AAAHHHHH IM SO DISTRAUGHT NAAAOAHHHHH NAAAOHHHHHHHHHHH
Woah mama where’d their legs go?
𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 ? ༉‧₊˚
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
summary: every time priscilla comes by with lisa, elvis turns into someone you barely recognize. you try to ignore it… until the doubts finally spill out ౨ৎ
tw: jealousy, insecurity, suggestive content ౨ৎ
elvis had been… different lately. you couldn’t really point to the exact moment it started, but somewhere after the divorce everything about him had shifted, like a record that didn’t sit quite right on the turntable anymore. the music was still there, the warmth too, but sometimes it skipped.
and somehow, in the middle of all that mess, you had ended up in his life, not long after the papers were signed. not long after the house started feeling too quiet for him.
you had become the girl he reached for in the middle of the night, the one he called “baby” in that low, honeysoft voice that melted right through your chest. the one he pulled close on the couch while some old movie played that he barely watched.
he was sweet to you.. god, sometimes it almost felt like too much sweetness.
little kisses on your shoulder when he passed by, his arm slung around your waist like it belonged there, the way he'd look at you like you were something fragile and precious.
but still…there were moments, moments where something cold slipped into your stomach and just sat there.
and most of those moments happened when she was coming over.
the nights before priscilla brought lisa by, the house always changed. you noticed it first in the way elvis couldn't sit still.
normally he'd sprawl out somewhere, on the couch, on the floor with pillows, sometimes half sideways in a chair, talking about music or movies or some wild story from the road. he'd laugh easy, loud, throwing his head back like he didn't have a single worry in the world.
but those nights?
he paced. back and forth across the living room, through the hall, into the kitchen, then back again like a restless ghost.
you watched him from the couch, legs tucked under you, pretending to read a magazine while really just listening to the sound of his boots on the floor.
tap… tap… tap…
he'd stop suddenly. look around. then start moving again.
sometimes he'd run a hand through his hair and mutter something under his breath.
“man… this place look alright to you?”
you’d glance up. “it looks fine.”
he'd squint at the room like he didn't believe you. “yeah but… i dunno, baby… feels kinda messy.”
it wasn't messy. not even close. but of course, that didn’t stop him.
he'd start straightening things that were already straight. moving pillows two inches to the left. adjusting picture frames. wiping imaginary dust off tables.
the first time it happened you thought it was kinda funny. the third time it happened you realized it was a pattern.
then morning would come.
and that’s when the real storm started.
you were barely awake when you felt movement beside you.
the mattress shifted. then a warm hand brushed your arm. “hey baby…”
his voice was soft, still rough with sleep.
you cracked one eye open. “mm?”
the room was dim, sunlight just barely sneaking through the curtains. elvis was already halfway outta bed, hair a mess, wearing those loose pajama pants he liked.
he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “sorry honey, didn’t mean t’wake ya.”
then he was already moving. you heard drawers opening, closet doors, footsteps.
two minutes later his voice echoed from somewhere down the hall.
“darlin’!”
you groaned quietly into the pillow.“yeah?”
“where’s that little vase lisa likes?”
you blinked at the ceiling.“…what vase?”
his footsteps came quick down the hallway.
he appeared in the doorway, pointing toward the living room like the answer might be hiding there.“the pink one, baby. the one with the little flowers on it. lisa likes that one.”
you pushed yourself up on your elbows, hair falling in your face.“i think it’s… in the cabinet?”
he nodded fast like he'd just solved a life changing mystery. “that’s it. that’s it. thank ya baby.”
and he was gone again, so you flopped back onto the pillow..but sleep was officially over.
because now he was in full motion. drawers opening, chairs scraping, cabinets slamming and-
“where the hell”
pause.
“oh there it is.”
a minute later:
“baby! we got those nice coasters somewhere?”
so you dragged yourself out of bed, wrapping his big robe around you as you shuffled toward the kitchen.
he was already digging through a drawer.
you leaned against the counter, watching him.“elvis…”
he looked up.
“yeah?”
“what are you doing?”
“what d’you mean?”
he held up a coaster like he’d just discovered gold.“there they are. see? knew we had 'em.”
you crossed your arms.“you cleaned yesterday.”
“yeah but-” he waved a hand vaguely around the room. “can’t have her thinkin’ i’m some kinda slob now, can i?”
there it was. that little sentence. her. he didn’t say her name. he didn’t need to.
you just nodded slowly. “right.”
he started wiping the table with a towel even though it was already spotless.“house gotta look good. y’know. respectable.”
you watched him move around the kitchen like a man preparing for inspection. his energy was strange. nervous but determined.
like he was trying to prove something. not to you.
never to you.
the hours crawled by like that. every room got checked twice, pillows fluffed, tables wiped, magazines stacked.
he even changed shirts three times.
by the time the car finally rolled up the driveway, your stomach had already twisted itself into knots.
you heard the sound first, tires on gravel.
elvis froze mid-step, just for a second, then he straightened, ran both hands through his hair.
“they’re here.”
you watched him walk toward the door.
he suddenly looked… different. taller somehow. more alert.
when he opened it, the bright afternoon light spilled inside.
and there she was.
priscilla.
standing on the porch with lisa beside her.
she looked exactly like the pictures people always talked about. composed. graceful.
lisa rushed inside first. “daddy!”
elvis immediately dropped to his knees with a huge grin. “hey there, sweetheart!” he scooped her up like she weighed nothing, peppering her cheeks with kisses while she giggled. “man i missed you, you know that? huh?”
but then…you noticed it.
the quick glance over lisa’s shoulder.
toward priscilla.
just a flicker, but it was there.
priscilla stepped inside calmly. “hi elvis.”
his smile softened. “hey there, cilla.”
his voice was lighter now. almost boyish.
you stood a few feet away, suddenly very aware of yourself. of your clothes. your hair. the way you didn’t quite know where to put your hands.
he stood up again, still holding lisa.
“house looks nice,” priscilla said casually, glancing around.
elvis let out a small laugh. “yeah well… been tryin’ to keep things tidy.”
she raised an eyebrow. “you? tidy?”
he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “hey now, i ain’t that bad.”
you watched them talk. watched the way he shifted his weight. the way his eyes kept flicking toward her like he was measuring her reactions. like he still cared what she thought. and maybe that was normal. maybe it meant nothing.
but the feeling in your chest didn’t listen to logic.
time passed. they talked.
lisa ran around the living room showing elvis drawings she made, priscilla stayed calm, polite. and you, you tried to blend into the background.
until, eventually, it was time for them to leave.
lisa hugged him tight. “bye daddy!”
he kissed her hair. “see you soon, sweetheart.”
priscilla gave him a small nod. “take care.”
“you too.”
then the door closed. and just like that…the house went quiet. too quiet.
elvis stood there for a long moment, his hand still resting on the doorknob.t hrough the window you could see the car pulling away down the driveway, he watched it until it disappeared.
you didn’t move. didn’t say anything.
finally he turned around. the smirk came first, small, tired.
“y’know, honey…” his voice was softer now. a little rougher too.
he leaned back against the door, crossing his arms as he studied you. “you’re awfully quiet today.”
your stomach tightened.
his eyes narrowed just slightly, curious but sharp. “what’s eatin’ at ya, baby?”
for a second you just stood there.
the silence between you felt thick, like the air before a storm. elvis was still leaning against the door, arms crossed loose over his chest, watching you with that look he got sometimes, half curious, half like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear you say it anyway.
you shifted your weight. “nothing.”
he immediately huffed out a small laugh. not mean. just… knowing.
“mmhmm.” his head tilted a little, dark eyes still locked on you.
“now baby, i been around a long time,” he said, pushing himself off the door and walking slowly toward you, “and i know that face.”
you looked away, which was probably the worst thing you could’ve done, because he caught it instantly.
“hey…” his voice softened. he reached out, curling a finger under your chin and lifting your face just enough so you had to look at him again. “don’t do that..”
“..do what?”
“that thing where you pretend nothin’s wrong.”his thumb brushed along your jaw absentmindedly. the gesture was gentle, familiar. normally it would’ve made your chest warm.
right now it just made everything worse.
you swallowed. “i’m not pretending.”
he stared at you for a moment, then one eyebrow lifted. “baby.”
that was it. just that word.
but the way he said it... low, patient, a little tired, it made your stomach twist.
you stepped back a little, arms crossing over your chest without thinking. “you get all weird when she comes over.”
there. it was out.
elvis blinked. not defensive yet, just..surprised. “weird?”
“yeah.” you shrugged awkwardly. “you clean the whole house like the president’s coming over or something.”
he snorted quietly at that. “well hell, darlin’, i ain’t that bad.”
you didn’t laugh. his smile faded a little when he noticed.
“you are,” you said softly.
he watched you carefully now. really watching. “…go on.”
you looked down at the floor for a second, trying to gather the words that were all tangled up in your chest. “you pace around the night before. you barely sleep. you change shirts like five times.” you exhaled. “and then when she’s here you get all… nervous.”
he opened his mouth and closed it again.
you forced yourself to keep going before you lost the nerve. “you laugh at everything she says. you keep looking at her like-”
you stopped, the last part stuck in your throat.
his voice came quieter now. “like what?”
you hesitated then muttered it anyway. “like you still love her.”
the room went very still. for a moment elvis didn’t move at all, then he let out a slow breath through his nose.
“lord…” he ran a hand over his face, pacing a couple steps away like he needed space to think.“baby…”
you hugged your arms tighter. “i mean it’s fine if you do,” you said quickly, even though your voice cracked a little. “she’s lisa’s mom and everything, i just-”
“hey.” his voice cut through the sentence, firm but not angry.
you looked up and he was staring at you like you’d just said something unbelievable. “come here.”
you didn’t move.
he sighed softly and walked over instead.
one of his big hands gently grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer until you were standing right in front of him. you could smell his cologne now, mixed with the faint scent of cigarette smoke and soap.
his hands settled on your arms. warm, steady. “look at me.”
you did.
his expression had changed completely now. the joking, teasing edge was gone. he looked… almost hurt.
“you really think that?”
you hesitated. “…i don’t know.”
he studied your face like he was searching for every little thought hiding there. then he shook his head slowly.
“baby… c’mere.”
before you could react he pulled you against him, wrapping both arms around you in one of those big hugs that always made you feel small.
your cheek pressed against his chest. his hand moved up to the back of your head, fingers sliding into your hair.
“listen to me a second, alright?” his voice rumbled low above you.
you nodded a little.
he sighed.
“priscilla… she was my wife a long time, honey. that don’t just vanish overnight.”
your chest sank. but he kept talking.
“but that don’t mean i’m sittin here wishin things were the same.” his fingers gently brushed through your hair.
“truth is… when she comes over i get nervous 'cause i don’t want any trouble. not for lisa.” he pulled back just enough to look at you.
“that little girl sees everything. i want her thinkin her daddy’s got things together, y’know?” his thumb wiped under your eye before you even realized one had gotten watery.
“i ain’t tryin to impress priscilla.” a small crooked smile appeared.
“lord knows she already seen me at my worst.”
that actually made a tiny laugh escape you.
he pointed at you softly. “there she is.”
then his expression softened again. “but you…” his hand came up, brushing your hair away from your face. “you’re the one standin here with me now.”
your heart did that stupid flip it always did when he looked at you like that.
“you’re the one i wake up next to.” his thumb traced your cheek. “you’re the one i call baby.”
his forehead rested lightly against yours. “so don’t go thinkin you’re second place around here.
“it just feels like it sometimes.” you whispered quietly
he frowned a little at that. then he pulled you closer again, arms tight around your back.
“well it ain’t.” his voice was softer now. slower.
the way he talked when he really meant something. “not even a little bit, darlin.”
for a moment neither of you moved. elvis was still holding you, arms wrapped around your back like he didn’t intend on letting go anytime soon. his hand kept moving slowly through your hair, absentminded, gentle.
but your mind was still spinning.
you wanted to believe him. you really did. still… that little voice in the back of your head wouldn’t shut up.
he felt you tense a little against him.
“there you go again,” he murmured quietly.
you frowned against his chest. “what?”
“that thinkin face.” his fingers tilted your chin up so he could see you again. his eyes were softer now, but there was something else there too. something darker, warmer.
“baby… you’re still doubtin me.” it wasn’t a question.
you hesitated. which was answer enough.
he exhaled slowly through his nose, then gave a small shake of his head. “lord have mercy…”
one of his hands slid down your arm until his fingers laced with yours. before you realized what he was doing, he was already pulling you gently down the hallway.
“elvis-”
“c’mon.”
“where are we goin?”
he glanced back at you over his shoulder, a crooked little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “gonna fix that pretty head of yours.”
your stomach flipped.
“fix it how?”
he pushed the bedroom door open with his shoulder. the room was dim, the afternoon light spilling through the curtains in soft golden streaks.
he turned to face you then, backing you slowly toward the bed until the backs of your knees hit the mattress.
you sat down automatically, looking up at him. for a second he just stood there, watching you.
that look in his eyes again. intense.
like he was studying every inch of your face.
“baby,” he said quietly.
you swallowed. “yeah?”
his knuckles brushed your cheek. “you got it in your head that you ain’t the one i want.”
his thumb traced slowly along your jaw. “and i don’t like that.”
the warmth of his hand made your heart start beating faster. “i didn’t say that-”
“you didn’t have to.” he stepped closer.
now you could feel the heat of him standing between your knees.
his voice dropped lower. “you’re sittin there thinkin about her when you oughta be thinkin about me.”
your breath caught a little.
he leaned down, one hand braced on the bed beside you. “about how much i want you.”
his lips brushed your temple first. soft. then your cheek. slower. “how crazy you make me sometimes…”
your hands found the front of his shirt without you even realizing it.
he noticed, of course he did.
a quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. “there we go.”
his forehead rested lightly against yours. “see? that’s better already.”
you tried to speak but your voice came out small.“you’re impossible.”
“mmhmm.”
his lips brushed yours this time. slow. not rushed. like he had all the time in the world.
the kiss deepened gradually, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, holding you there while you melted into him.
when he finally pulled back, you were a little breathless.
he looked pretty pleased with himself. “still thinkin about priscilla?” he murmured.
you shook your head faintly.
he smiled. “good.”
then he kissed you again, softer this time, easing you back against the pillows as the late afternoon light filled the room and the rest of the world faded away.
outside, the house was quiet. but inside the bedroom…
you weren’t thinking about anyone else anymore.
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Woah Mama, Sexy Elvii Contest 2025 Official Announcement
I will be running a Sexy Elvis contest
If any Elvii would like to nominate themselves
Please let me know
So we can finaly see
Who is the sexyest Elvis
Hummina hummina
Mod: Please only nominate your Elvii if you are comfortable with their sexyness being considered
Woah, my fellow Americans, it's been a while. y'all are Probably wondering where I was, well, the truth is... I've been impeached. I've been dealing with the court processions and such, and im going to have to step down as the president.
@nixon-official is gonna be taking over my duties as president from here on out.
Im gonna have to go back into the orb in a little while, so I'll be posting from in there, i guess...
Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis has left the white house
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow... Woa, woman who hath birthed me.
I am naught but a dog. A dirty vile hound of a dog. Yae, I weep. Quit often! For the fates hath said I shall be The King, yet I hath done naught but cowardly shy from my ambition! Even mine own wife hath more courage than me!
Woah, woman who hath Birthed me! If I were indeed a hound, and my kingdom a rabbit, I would have ne'er caught one....
where did the elvisverse go i miss them
