#elvis was not racist

[nuts-but-as-a-treat]

Yo, tumblr; what the FUCK IS THIS???????

[visenyaism]

Huge history nerd and Whovian here; Tricky Dick aka Nixon is truly a historical grey area enigma to me, TED-ED's History v. Richard Nixon describes his life as if he went on adventure trips and side quests as Napoleon Bonaparte. The guy was born Californian, a WW2 vet, meet Dr Martin Luther King Jr with President Eisenhower while as his VP, having a historical election landside, meet Elvis Presley, created EPA, meet China's equivalent of Thanos (Mao Zedong), his admin granted 18 years olds to vote, and had a phone call with the guys on the moon. Doctor Who had its title protagonist team up with him to fight against alien antagonists lol

Hold on. He was a weird guy who lived an interesting life, but I would say that cementing the southern strategy by running on racist dog whistle politics and anti-busing legislation that has kept American schools racially segregated to this day, starting the war on drugs, illegally and secretly dropping at least 250,000 tons of explosives on neutral civilians in Cambodia and Laos, crackdown on anti-Vietnam war protestors, blaming the Kent state massacre victims for getting shot and calling them bums, inventing the no-knock warrant plus still everything associated with the Watergate break-in makes him still thoroughly evil.

[showtoonzfan]

I never understand how HH/HB fans get upset and defensive when people say that the shows target audience is for white people/white queers. What did these people expect. Last time I checked the most famous characters/characters upfront are all white coded, and any black character doesn’t even look black. The creator meanwhile talks like a white fake Starbucks mean girl and she is one, along with most of her friends/higher ups who work for her. Her work is geared towards kids and middle aged edge lords who are obsessed with swearing and sex and favor/fetishize yaoi, be so fr. Y’all are the same people who turn racist the minute a black person says they don’t like the show, or when someone says the POC characters are drawn with zero melanin because GOD forbid we ask for a few visible curls or puffs, or god forbid we ask that the color of a black/Hispanic woman not to be grey. Meanwhile this white ass fanbase will turn into Elvis fangirls at a con (with zero POC’s in sight mind you) when they see their favorite white coded rich twink rapist owl character on screen, yet have the nerve to preach to black people about what they THINK classism and slavery is, just to defend dogshit early 2000’s writing like get the fuck outta here.

[raptorific]

People are gonna hate hearing this but there is a direct arterial through-line from "my sex dream about Goody Puritan means she's one of the devil's witches filling my head with impure thoughts" to "my daughter used to be chaste and innocent until she heard Elvis and the Beatles singing the devil's black music and now she's masturbating and hooked on reefer" to "my parents were normal middle-class Americans until Fox News and Facebook propaganda corrupted them and made them racist antivaxxers"

[avifaunaa]

i tasted ash and knew [ it was you ] [ r.v. ] [ pt.4 ]

Authors Note: my head hurts and it is not because rio is holding a gun to it. i was not entirely happy with how this turned out so pleaaaase be gentle. did i forget anyone in the taglist? i hope not.

MORE useless facts? More likely than you think:

Elvis Presley had his first song released on the radio in July of 1954 but he himself wouldn't reach popularity and fame until 1956

Adding to this -- he was considered a bad influence to the teenage youth of the time because his genre of music was Rock'N'Roll which most of white society believed to be "devil's music" and had extreme racist connotations to it.

The fifties was full of wackie things but some of my favorites include their slang. It actually wasn’t too entirely far off from modern day slang and we still use some of it [ example 1: a popular girl / woman in the fifties could have been called a queen in slang — we use this term today to describe anyone in general who we hold in high regard or who has a certain aspect of note ] [ examples 2: ankle-biter was used to describe small children, and dreamboats were used to describe cute guys, and “what’s the big deal?” was asked in place of, “who cares, man?” lol ]

Reader is notably pointed out to be somewhat terrified at being caught with Rio and it’s mentioned that their reputations and lives could be ruined. This was entirely too true, but it was also very unfortunately illegal to be homosexual in the United States during their flashbacks and was extremely tricky in theCivil Rights world. The Lavender Scare prevented [ suspected ] homosexuals from working for the federal government when it was enacted in 1953. It took years to unravel this mess and it wasn’t until 2003 when Lawerence v. Texas ruled that the “homosexual conduct” law was unconstitutional and therefore decriminalizes homosexuality in general and helps create a new stepping stone into legalizing gay marriages. The LGBTQIA+ laws have always been finicky in the U.S.

Masterlist

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FIVE | PART SIX

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Life becomes something you know longer had control over in your small enclosure in which Rio kept you. She seems to be hovering more and leaving you alone less, adding to your lowered temper and a heightened protectiveness she can't reign in. Her lack of watchfulness catches the eye of someone who seeks out Death for themselves . . .

Content Warnings: Still dark, that will not be changing soon -- flashbacks that contain period-typical homophobia and views on gender-norms, threats of violence [ rio receiving, as always ], misuse of magic [ rio ], manipulation, disassociation [ reader ], PREGNANCY and symptoms associated w/ it: morning sickness, cravings , fatigue, etc. [ r ], forced housewifeism[?] [ reader ], possessive behavior, more intense Stockholm Syndrome, dub-con bordering on non-con [ r!receiving ], fingering [ r!receving ], first time lesbian sex, rio using sex and r's naivety to avoid being called out lmao, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES

Word Count: ~6.3k

1954

The kiss was everything you've ever wanted and nothing you should ever have thought about in the first place. Rio had promised nobody could have seen it, the way she held you so gently with softer hands than any man could ever have.

But even when you both exited the Ferris Wheel ride at a proper distance, you could not help but glance around with paranoia buzzing around your brain. What if even one person saw? Westview was large enough to not know everyone but small enough to know enough people that gossip and news would cause a deep rift.

Nobody was looking at either of you -- or acting as though there had been a whisper of what you had just done in that car where the stars were your only judges.

Your lips still had a tingle to them and there was a taste that remained in your mouth -- one you knew would be remembered for the rest of your life. It was wild and free and so Rio and that is why it was so wrong.

The bustling of the fair soon became background noise as the two of you and many other patrons were making your way out of the fairgrounds toward the fields where Rio's car was. You held your duck prize in your arms -- the only other witness to your damning kiss.

You could feel her eyes on you during the trek to the car, a weight you would not address until you were inside and away from overhearing ears and busybodies that had nothing but snooping to fill their time.

Rio opened your door for you and waited stubbornly until you got inside. She smiled sweetly as you bent low to get into the passengers seat and shut the door before rounding to the other side to the driver's seat.

The car started up and the radio followed -- in the middle of a brand new artist that your mother warned you to not take to.

Elvis Presley had a nice voice and his music was fresh -- even if many of the older generation feared it would lead their children down the wrong path. You quite liked his song even if your neighbors mumbled about wondering where the world was going.

Rio didn't start to drive off after the car started, instead letting it run as she held her hands flat on the steering wheel and clearing her throat. "Are you okay?"

“You shouldn’t have . . . “ you started, stuttering out like a bad engine as your throat felt dryer than it had been when you were thinking of what to say, “. . . Why did you . . . You shouldn’t have,” you repeated, deciding the question was not worth trying to seek an answer for.

Rio, however, didn’t appear to agree. When you mustered up the courage to look — actually look — at her, she had some sort of expression on her face. An expression that puzzled and scared you.

“Why not?” she only asked eventually.

Two simple words that formed an entirely too difficult question. Why not? she asked, as if you had told her no, no going out for dinner tonight.

Rio had kissed you. Publicly and without hesitation or an ounce of concern for what consequences could have followed should you have been seen.

“It isn’t right, Rio,” you told her.

“Whose word claim that it is not right for me to kiss you?” she pushed. A hand was covering yours, cooler on contact but comforting all the same. “You kissed me back.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head away, ignoring the way she pointed out the facts and tried to reveal your true self.

“You can’t even look at me in the eye when you tell me it isn’t right, Angel,” Rio continued softly — so softly that you trembled in place. “That tells me that more than anything, it was exactly right and you’re too scared to embrace it.”

“I am scared,” you whispered, “and perhaps that is what you should be as well. They are warning people about . . . About homosexuals, Rio. They’re teaching society how to spot them and . . . I simply cannot fall into this affair with you. I could lose everything.”

A soft pressure applied to your hand, forcing you to turn your head to her. You didn’t mind if she saw your tears — she’s seen them countless times after the death of your husband.

“The world cannot tell us how to feel, Angel,” she stated firmly, eyes hardened as she reached over with her empty hand. You flinched — and she only paused briefly — before she continued to reach out and brush your tears away. “They fear what they do not understand and they only understand what they think they know. What they know is very little, and thus rebirths a cycle of the same thing.”

You sniffed, lowering your face into her swiping thumb as her fingers made light strokes that captured any wayward tears.

“I don’t have anymore room for pain, Rio,” you rasped finally. “I am at my threshold.”

“Then trust me one more time,” the woman murmured, not quite begging but coaxing and sweet as she moved the hand on top of yours to play with your hair, “I would never hurt you.”

A million things could go wrong — you were thinking of so many right now alone. What if your neighbors happened by and peeked into the window? Your parents inquired too deeply and you couldn’t keep a secret? The gossip mill began to burst into flames because too many eyes caught you and Rio too many times in different ways?

Soft lips to your forehead ripped you away from spiraling, and that kiss alone made you feel like everything could be okay . . . Even for a moment.

“Okay,” you whispered as you tipped over the edge of caution and into dangerous waters, “I trust you, Rio.”

2024

There was sweat collecting on your forehead and sticking to the back of your shirt as Rio held your hair back for the fifth time this morning. It started around three A.M. — startling awake and bumping your shoulder roughly into the wall to get into the bathroom.

“How do you have anything left in your stomach?” Rio wondered as you spit the remnants of bile into the bowl.

Your fingernails bite into the rivets of the tile, keeping yourself curled over the opening. Another shudder rippled over you, the nausea painful this time around.

But Rio brushed fingers against your temple and then the nausea was gone.

“No magic,” you rasped. Your nausea was gone but the you throat burned and you had an awful aftertaste remaining on your tongue.

Snot was collecting on the ends of your nostrils and you reached up to wipe it but Rio was already there, toilet paper dabbing away the mucus.

“Don’t . . . Don’t touch me,” you hissed meekly.

Rio snorted softly, hand returning to the back of your neck and massaging gently. “Want to get in the shower? Or do you want a bath with some lavender salts?”

I just want you to leave me alone, your hindbrain murmured, but you moved your gaze toward those dark eyes. They were concerned and her nose had a wrinkle to it like she did when in thought.

“The bath, please.”

Gentle fingers sweeping your hair back, tucking behind ears. Warm lips on your damp temple. “A bath it is, sweetheart. Think you can stand?”

“No.”

Rio helped you to lean against the back of the wall while she started the jacuzzi style bath, adding the bath salts and some dried flower petals for good measure. You watched her exit the bedroom, too tired to suspiciously ask her what the hell she was doing. She returned with a few items — a plate of chocolate covered strawberries drizzled with chocolate icing, your water bottle that magically had fresh ice and water, a book you were currently reading through, and a box that you couldn’t read the label of.

You closed your eyes and wrapped an arm around your stomach in an attempt to prevent the room from spinning. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you relax.”

You didn’t respond until you heard her approach you again and balance something light on your knee. You opened your eyes and moved them to what she was trying to give you.

A store-bought pregnancy test.

Your brain-fog cleared very quickly — replaced by a rush of frustration and an unexplainable emotion.

“I don’t need the fucking test and we both know it, Rio,” you started, hating how unlike yourself you sounded. You quickly bit the inside of your cheek until you could taste blood. Why must she rub in the humiliation and helplessness further?

"You told me no magic," Rio reminded you dutifully, but with a sprinkle of some sort of warning that the animal in you couldn't seem to ignore. "This is how we get the confirmation without the use of magic."

Your lip curled in reaction to her words as she balanced the box on your knee precariously, palm keeping it steady while her fingers became weights against the skin of your knees.

"You used magic when you . . ." You could not bring yourself to speak your thoughts out loud, afraid of what it might mean to have it in the open. "You know I don't need it," you spat.

"This isn't a punishment, Angel," she replied, tone softening the blow of her words as her other hand made home on your ankle. "This is a way to understand that my magic only did so much and your body did the rest. If nothing else -- would it not settle your mind better having the physical proof instead of feeling like you're going crazy?"

White-hot anger replaced whatever numbness had taken root in your heart -- a common experience in the time Rio had recaptured you. "I didn't get the choice, Rio. You took that away from me, remember?"

Something in her eyes muted -- like a flame being extinguished or headlights being turned off suddenly. It was swift, and she did not dwell on it as she removed her hand from your knee until the box dangled until falling into your lap.

"Just take it," the witch told you, reaching forward to stick some hair behind your shoulder. "It will answer many questions you've been unable to stop repeating in to yourself over and over. It will also put an end to the cycle of anxiety and what-ifs in your head. We will deal with the aftermath later."

She says that so fucking confidently, like she just . . . knows you.

She does.

Then you reel back on the last sentence of what she said and stared blankly in her direction.

The aftermath . . . the fucking aftermath. Rio knew the results already and still insisted on you taking it as though she fucking cared that it would ease some of your worries. The relief of getting a confirmation of the sickness you felt would be replaced by the endless gaping hole of realization you'd be trapped.

You took the box in hand and clutched it like a lifeline, nearly crushing it as you stared daggers at the woman face to face with you.

“Get out.”

Rio eyes you momentarily, debating on whether or not to listen to your demand. Eventually she does, and shuts the door behind you. You remain in place for five minutes longer and then slowly get to your feet and peel open the box.

You take the test and set it in the sink before undressing for your bath. Rio did make it look so inviting and you didn’t miss the chance to sink deep into the bath water, a breath escaping deep from your nostrils.

Your hand drifted down to your abdomen where so much of your turmoil currently lies and yet . . .

The way Rio had looked at you was both emotionally taxing and empowering and perhaps that was the most significant aspect of it all. She was clever in her ways — her slow, slow, invasion into your life the first time and how quickly she adapted the second go around.

You do not read your book even though you desire to. The bath overtook your senses and your mind not long after sinking into the tub. Your hair was pulled up and your thoughts were slowly beginning to drift from the worry and frustration into contentment that you chose to embrace while it lasted.

You fell asleep — at least, you were sure you did — because Rio opened the door and startled you. You blinked and rose upward against the slope of the tub and watched the witch move toward you with bleary eyes until she was on her knees, arm resting on the edge of the tub.

“Feeling any better, Angel?” she asked. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was concern in that question.

You were too tired to fight, too tired to put up a front. Your anger and dismay were a coiled, rigid ball inside of your soul and it was exhausting trying to unwind it and make it a weapon against Rio.

Your fist rose to your chest and you let out a shallow breath, rubbing the spot where those emotions remain dormant until you reached inside deep, deep, deep . . .

“Angel?”

You flutter your attention back to her. She’s frowning and the lines along her lips give you the impression of a woman with the daily stressors — a mortal that knows her time is limited.

You hated that she gave herself those details, that she made herself look so fucking human.

You breathed out again and let your hand fall back into the lavender scented water. “I’m fine, just tired,” you told her truthfully. “I think I dozed off.”

Rio let out a half-laugh, quiet and cut off as she softened her smile with adoration that gave you this twisted feeling of affection you remember once freely giving.

You wished you could hate her more than you were growing to love her again — but Rio knew exactly what she was doing and you had no defenses to prevent it.

And now your exhaustion and anxiety were tearing apart the last vestiges of your resolve. She reached her hand over and stroked your bare shoulder tenderly, and goddamnit you cracked under the touch. The gentleness and how your body became relaxed.

“Let’s empty the tub and get you showered,” Rio murmured, offering the kindness of suggestion rather than ordering you, “and then we can go downstairs and watch a movie.”

Piece by piece she removed your carefully crafted exterior, hardened by years and yet easily broken by her intricate mindset alone.

“Okay,” you agreed, watching as she shifted down the large tub and dipping her hand inside to search for the stopper. You stood up and crossed your arms over the front of your body, head swimming.

Rio held out her slender hand to you, palm upward and locking eyes with you. It was an offer to help you step out of the tub as if she knew you what you were feeling -- because of course she did.

You took her hand and she was so gentle as she curled her fingers through yours and guided you out of the tub and toward the large shower.

"You look green," Rio murmured as she slid open the door and guides you to sit on the tiled seat inside of the shower. "Wait right here, okay, Angel? I'm going to get undressed and I'll help you."

"Rio . . ." You crossed your ankles and watched her back out and begin to remove her layers. "Rio I can shower on my own. The dizziness is wearing off."

"I'd rather not take that chance, sweetheart," the black-haired beauty countered as she finished undressing and stepped back inside and began fiddling with the handles of the shower. You tried not to stare at her as her pale form moved passed you like a ghost.

You were sure your skin was turning red from the sheer embarrassment of her being naked and so close . . . the last time that happened it wasn't in your favor and it tainted the memories that were once good.

Fighting was tiring, and being trapped here was difficult. You were scared and traumatized but something Rio never did was harm you -- not like she couldn’t if she truly desired to do so. You have seen the damage she and other witches can do.

Perhaps it was time to just . . . Find a middle ground. Somewhere where you don’t have to rip each other open whenever you crossed paths.

Would that end better? For both of you?

She must have felt your eyes on her because the water turned on and she turned around. Droplets soaked into her skin and she leaned back against the wall, watching you while you watched her.

“You’re very quiet which means you’re thinking heavy,” Rio regarded, not a question but rather an observation from the woman who has known you far longer than people usually know one another. “Wanna share?”

You blink at her through the rain shower-head and slowly lifted one of your hands and extended your arm. It crossed into the falling water just as Rio’s eyebrows shot up into her damp hairline.

“Help me up?” you said to her. Not a defeat, no shame. You ensured to bury your hatchet behind a certain line and she would need to tread it close.

She pushed off the wall and slid her fingers into yours, leaning down to pull you up until you were pressed together under the heat of the showerhead, breasts touching, noses brushing.

“Are you okay?” she inquired, seeking out something that she wouldn’t be getting. You were burying apart of yourself so deeply that not even you would likely find it again — but that was fine. She didn’t need that part of you and nor did you.

You allowed a smile to cross your features, timid and true as you felt in that moment. “I think so. Just tired and scared.”

Rio breathed out a heavy sigh and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a hug that surprised even you. Rio wasn’t much of a hugger even if she was touchy. But you rest your chin on her shoulder and close your eyes as bullets of piercing water seep into your skin, washing away the ruins and remains of who you used to be.

1955

You and Rio had your own New Years Eve celebration with some of her colleagues from the drugstore. You were initially hesitant to agree to the party due to the suspicion and questions it would raise, but Rio was on the opposite end of the scale from you.

“Do you think you could make those creamed peas and onions that you seem to get perfect everytime, Angel?” your . . . Partner? was asking you as she adjusted her work outfit for the day in the bathroom mirror.

“I wouldn’t see why not, but Rio —“

“Chicken pot pie would be the main dish to go well, I think,” she continued over your attempt to question her as she came out of the bathroom, makeup applied.

“Rio.”

“Lemon pie for desert,” she was saying, and you clenched your fists in your lap.

“Rio!” you shouted, overwhelmed and frustrated at being ignored.

She dropped altogether and eyes you, pausing whatever it was she had started doing. “I do not,” you said, in a shaky but lowered tone, “believe it is in our best interests to host any sort of party. Have you flipped your lid?”

Rio huffed at your verbiage. She wasn’t fond of using slang that seemed to be growing popular as the years progressed, but some of it was getting its hooks into you — and no amount of her kissing you could stop you from saying them to her between fits of giggles.

But you weren’t joking right now, and she could see how tightly wound you were physically. Your hands curled into your nightgown and your eyes darting nervously around the room like you were afraid something would leap from the shadows.

Rio had to remember that her ideas of what seemed okay were too far along compared to yours — she had thousands of years on you and that put things in perspective for her that you had yet to see.

Such as giving a shit what society thinks about you and her in the privacy of your own home.

She decided her best course of option was to deescalate and comfort before you reverted back into that part of you she still hadn’t been able to penetrate.

“Aw, Angel,” she said as she glided over to you and sat down next to you on the bed, sweeping up one of your hands in hers. “Is that’s what got you all busted up?”

Your lips pursed, but you notably did not jerk your hand from hers or move away. Good, you wanted her comfort.

“I meant what I said when we first started . . . Doing this,” you told her, adding a hint of firmness for good measure. “We have to be careful, Rio, we could be arrested.”

“I will not let that happen,” your partner said in a tone that had an edge to it, one you’ve not heard from her before.

“You won’t be able to stop it if we get caught and reported!” you shouted again, too strung up to sit still. You got to your feet and tucked your hands in your underarms as you shuffled to the windows to peer out into the leaking sunrise. “We don’t have the privilege of being like the Cassidy’s or the Cook’s, we have to remember what happens to people like us.”

Rio stayed where she was and rubbed her face. “I know you’re concerned — and I can see how it might create the fear of being caught, but I don’t think we’re under suspicion.”

“You don’t think?” you asked, turning on your heel. “You — you have to be sure. If you doubt . . . If you falter in whatever this is for one second, we could never find jobs, never live a normal life. . .”

“I’m not the only one who needs to remember that,” she retorted, not unkindly but pointedly, eyes sharp like a lioness.

Anything else you wanted to say died in your throat. The two of you stared at one another like you always did, the silent communication that held more words than most of your actual conversation.

Your eyes dropped bashfully and you understood she was right. Everything you felt was new and scary and wrong. But if you were experiencing those things, it should have occurred to you that perhaps Rio was too.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her after a brief, pregnant silence. “I shouldn’t have shouted.”

You heard the bed groan as Rio’s weight shifted off of it, the soft barefoot steps across the carpet. Then a hand cupping your cheek as she guided your face to peer at hers. She was so beautiful and she was everything that made what you knew your soul to be content.

The turmoil you fell into about this affair — was it an affair? — was so brushed away when she touched you like this. It burned you like a hot pan and healed your deepest wounds that no surgery would ever manage to fix.

In that alone — you knew she was who your being was drawn to. What the instinctual, animal side of your brain desired even though gospel and presidents warned of the dangers of these desires.

“When you shout it means you’re showing me something that you don’t normally reveal,” Rio admitted as she held you in the rising light of morning, “You lower that perfectly trained woman of etiquette and though she’s just as beautiful, I can’t help but want to see more beneath just her.”

It was a surprise — not because Rio had said it, it’s Rio — mostly due to the fact that you were never to give into the ugliest of your emotions.

“Shouting isn’t . . . Well, I shouldn’t do it. It’s not becoming and you didn’t deserve my anger," you deflected, averting your eyes as best you could. You did not keep your gaze away for long -- you felt drawn to peer at her again.

Rio was smiling once again, this time more mischievous and probing. “Oh, Angel. I don’t need you to pretend to not feel around me. I want it all — down to the very last drop of anger and resentment you hold.”

“I have no resentment, don’t be silly.”

A lie so terribly spoken that she grasped your chin and dragged you close, lips brushing. “Oh, yes you do. You have so much of it built up and it’s mixing with those other painful ones, too. Anger. Despair. Oh, it makes for the loveliest cocktails.”

You swallowed at the look in her eye, how she peered right through your skin and all the barriers you managed to keep solid for so long. Your heart rushed so quickly that you swore you heard it in your ears.

“It is ugly,” you insisted in a quiet breath, grasping her upper arm for balance as she wrapped her other around your lower back. “I am ugly under everything, and I hate myself for it. I hate myself for how I feel when I’m happier with you than I ever was married to that husband I had. I hate myself for needing to seek out the acceptance of our neighbors when you don’t seem to give a penny how they feel. Mostly, I hate that there is so much about you that seems hidden and I haven’t been damned to uncover it.”

Rio kisses you them, a rough one compared to your first and the ones that had followed many times since. She pushes you against the window, her arm cushioning your bounce against the surface.

She pulls back for air briefly and pries your hand off her arm so she can run her fingers up the crevice of your neck.

“Nothing I have seen is ugly, and for that reason I dig for more until there is nothing left of you that I cannot know,” she whispered as her lips began making ghost brushes under your ear.

“I know you’re lying to be about so many things,” you stutter out between her kisses and feather-light touches to your burning skin, “and maybe I should have listened to my mother when she told me to run.”

“But you didn’t,” Rio purred, sending vibrations through your jaw and neck. You shivered from the ministrations as her fingers started to go lower, lower, “You’re ignoring every part of your primal instinct that orders you to run, to get away from me.”

“I feel safe with you. I want you. I need you. And I don’t know why,” you got out, blinking tears away until they left tracks on your flushed cheeks. “You saved me and doomed me the second you appeared at my door and I love you for it.”

“My Angel,” Rio murmured as she found your heat, tracing just outside and finding you disgustingly wet there. You turned your head away in shame and she nipped your skin. “Don’t you dare look away from me. Your pleasure is mine and it means you adore me so.”

“It is wrong.”

“You can say it as many times as you need to make you feel better,” the woman promised as she sank her index finger into you and brushed her thumb so gently over the bundle of nerves above your pussy.

You knew how to find pleasure and the way it made you feel -- but it had been so long since you had experienced it. Your marriage failing first, the death of your husband second . . . and what was self-pleasure good for? It was unbecoming.

Your husband -- before he was ever that, when he was good and charming and who you thought you could live that happy existence with -- had been somewhat of a clumsy boy during your youths. You fooled around and looked for places on one another that were just simply taboo but it wouldn't matter later, you had planned to spend your lives intertwined and so what harm would getting to know the body of each other do?

Two years into the marriage fresh out of school, him working long hours and you figuring out how to care for a home . . . it broke you both and turned him into something inhuman.

“It won’t make your feelings any less powerful, nor will it turn me away," your lover continued, breath hot against you.

You felt as though cotton was being stuffed violently into your ears until your brain was no longer functional the more she spoke and touched, and aggravated your lust.

"Who was your husband, Rio?" you whispered out so quietly that for a second, you did not think she would hear it. Your throat was dry from the heavy gasps and moans she'd drawn from you, adding to the difficulty in speaking.

She pressed her front against you, getting better leverage as she started to move inside of you in the same sweet way in which she held you and kissed you. Your head leaned back when her thumb started making circles in a way that you’ve never managed to do properly to yourself. Is this what feeling good was?

It felt . . . this was better than everything you've ever had done before. One man you'd known since teenagers and things had gone to shit, but Rio wasn't inside of you to seek out her own release. She had no cock and only used her fingers expertly as though she did this perhaps to herself often.

"Rio," you whined as your forehead fell forward onto her shoulder, unable to keep your eyes open and on her as she'd requested. Touching yourself was never this fast and never yielded such quick results, but Rio was --

"You're so pretty like this," she told you in a cracked tone as the thumb on your clit started to speed up in movement as your demeanor started to become weaker. "Unable to hold yourself in that strong, perfect way you do to protect yourself."

There was a nagging prod in the back of your lower head and it was an instinctual knowing of importance. But your senses were overwhelmed and you felt so good right now -- how could anything else matter until you let such things pass?

“Rio Vidal has a completely blank canvas, sweetheart, and I’m afraid that means that no records indicate she was ever married, much less to a man in the service.”

Your eyes flew open suddenly just as the rush of your orgasm crashed against you. Your mouth had dropped open to question Rio again but only broken mewls and moans came out as she eased you through the devastating pleasure. You heard how her finger mixed with your fluids as she cooed in your ears and kissed down your neck.

She pulled out of you gently and held her finger up her mouth. You watched as she licked her finger clean of your shame and closed your eyes again, unable to watch your failure to once again confront her about these uneasy doubts that she was narrowly avoiding.

She presses a kiss to your forehead and sealed your fate into your skin.

2024

Rio settles you downstairs in the living room and patters around like a fussy nursemaid. She dims the lights and draws the blinds shut, followed by the airy curtains [ "Rio, the curtains are fine and won't make a difference if the blinds are closed," you told her from your spot. She ignored you, of course ].

She brought you some hot chocolate foamed with strawberry soft top, remembering one of your favorite ways to have the drink. One by one, little by little, she was tearing apart your defenses and you had no resources to rebuild them and fight her off.

Not in your state.

Tommy lay next to you in the crook of your curled legs, head resting on your thigh and intelligent eyes following every move Rio made with unnerving focus.

"I don't want him on the furniture," the witch told you as she sat down a plate of assorted snacks -- meats, cheeses, sweets, and crackers. Only a few nights ago you were both violently fighting one another and now she was doting on you.

You lifted a hand and stroked the dogs' ears. They were warm and velvety under your hand and provided an anchor when you were at risk to float away from reality again. "He stays," you replied without adding a bite. You didn't want an argument with her and in the past you would have even agreed with her if you'd have pets together.

Circumstances had changed and thus your views on even this. Tommy gave you back some of your lost defenses and you think Rio knew that -- because she decided dropping the topic was better than fighting you as she shook her head and took the spot on the other side of the couch with you.

"You're cleaning up his shed," Rio murmured as she wrapped an arm around you and picked up the remote to the television on the armrest.

Your only response was running your fingers through Tommy's sleek coat, dragging up loose fur onto the cushions as you did. Billy was laying under the coffee table batting at Rio's socked feet while she entertained his little game.

It was so fucking domestic.

You hated it.

You loved it.

"What do you feel like watching?" she asked, as she tugged her socked foot back to no avail. Billy had one of his claws hooked into the fabric and he seemed to be ready to tackle her ankle if she wasn't quick enough.

You took the remote from her and browsed her list of streaming services. "I have pretty much any streaming app, available at your leisure," she said as Billy tugged her sock off and kicked it with his hind leg. "You little shit."

Billy went after her other sock next as you flicked through until you found the service that had the reality TV show you'd been watching before you were taken.

She drew her foot up to rest against the edge of the couch as Billy pounced to capture it, his fluffy tail flicking back and forth and pupils thinned to slits. Rio looked mildly irritated.

Your lips quirked upward in a smile and you rest your head on her shoulder as you find the season and episode you had last left off on. "I don't remember you being into reality TV," she commented, palming Billy's face until his paws wrapped around her hand and he dug his teeth in.

"You get bored and branch out after centuries of having the same taste," you merely said as the intro to the show started playing. You brought the mug of hot chocolate to your lips and made to focus on the TV, trying to keep yourself settled for as long as you can until the panic returned.

"I will turn you into a fucking duster," Rio hissed at your cat as she shook him off. The cuts and marks from his rough play had healed instantly, not even drawing blood.

"Leave him alone, Rio."

"Are you kidding--" she started, but glanced over and stopped. You were content -- more than she'd ever seen you in a long time. Considering she had not seen you in a long time . . .

She pulled off her other sock and threw it for the tabby feline. He left Rio to chase it and the witch returned her attention to you, pressing a soft kiss on your head and listening to the murmur of the show you were watching.

Two episodes and some snacking later, it was disrupted. A ring at the door was startling and had Tommy's head shooting up, gaze staring hard at the archway that led to the entry room.

He was stiff even when you ran a hand across his back to soothe him as Rio got to her feet and spread the blanket she had magicked in across you. "I'll get it," she told you. "It's probably just a girl scout."

"Thin mints," you said easily, still stroking Tommy even if he was not responsive to your attempt at comfort.

Rio made her way to the door cautiously and prepared herself. She believed you were almost ready to entertain your high-end neighbors but she had not completely let up on the magic that had them forgetting to come greet the new neighbors yet.

She opened the door and plastered a confused but friendly expression on her face and stopped in her tracks at who she saw.

"Hi," the woman greeted politely, her own smile rising a little sheepishly on her face, though her eyes had a darker sparkle in them. "I'm your new neighbor, a few doors down, and heard you recently moved in too. I thought I'd say hello. My name is Wanda."

rio and reader will return in part five

PART FIVE

my often forgetful taglist: @dandelions4us , @flow33didontsmoke , @girlsgotissues

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

Ann-Margret (Bye Bye Birdie, Viva Las Vegas)—While she started as a singer, the lovely and talented Ann-Margret also left her mark as an actress in Hollywood. She won a Golden Globe for her first role in Pocketful of Miracles and was nominated again for Bye Bye Birdie, and very nearly stole the show from Elvis Presley himself in Viva Las Vegas.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.

Ann-Margret:

She can sing! She can dance! She had excellent chemistry with Elvis! She reportedly survived a 22 foot fall off of a stage! The movies and old and problematic but I love her 1000%

[ckret2]

Conspiracy theories are an important part of the series' identity, what's wrong with them? Some have nasty implications if you really overthink it, but they're generally fun

I didn't say I'm not gonna include conspiracy theories in the story altogether. I said I'm not validating any REAL WORLD conspiracy theories, and I'm not talking about antisemitic & racist conspiracy theories. I'm happy to crack jokes debunking or mocking real world conspiracy theories. I'm happy to create new conspiracy theories for the fic that are totally divorced from any existing conspiracy theories.

But when I'm talking about the ones I'm not playing with, I ain't talking about "Elvis is still alive" conspiracies here. With a lot of the most oft-referenced goofy-sounding high profile conspiracy theories, they're not nasty "if you really overthink it." These theories are, in their very origins, vehicles for hatred toward minority groups. Browse for a while. Notice how many of the conspiracies that have ridiculous traits that make them seem fun on the surface are past the antisemitic point of no return.

Secret reptilian overlords disguised as humans? A deliberate effort to disguise centuries-old antisemitic conspiracies. "Jews secretly control the world," "Jews help others of their bloodline gain & maintain power," "Jews drink the blood of Christian children"—blood libel is a thing that real people believe and have believed for centuries and has historically been used to justify killing whole Jewish communities—and the exact rhetoric used in these obviously antisemitic claims was reskinned for the "reptilian overlords" conspiracy. And which real people do you think believers in the conspiracy disproportionately accuse of secretly being cold-blooded inhuman monsters trying to disguise themselves amongst normal humans? Reptilian overlords is a popular one to make jokes about because "the president's a lizard in disguise" sounds funny when stripped of context—and typically the people making jokes either don't know where it came from or don't care.

Hell, the entire "a cabal of Jewish people sorry we meant 'global elites' secretly rules the world" is one of the oldest, most versatile, and most popular of antisemetic conspiracy theories.

And check out some of the more ridiculous-sounding ones that pop culture likes making jokes about.

Hollow Earth? That one's "inside the earth is a paradise populated by Vikings (the manliest white people!) and Nazis. Yay Nazis!" A whole bunch of secret continent/secret moon colony/hidden geography conspiracies are very "yay Nazis". The Illuminati secretly control everything? For approximately a century, "Jews + Freemasons + Illuminati control the world" has been an extremely prominent conspiracy theory that's branched off into countless other conspiracy theories still believed today (it fed into the reptilian overlord conspiracy, for instance). Adrenochrome? Hollywood (and other "global elites") are trafficking children to harvest a chemical from their blood that they can inject? This is literally just blood libel again. Satanic Panic, the idea that there are real Satanic cults sacrificing children left and right, and the goofy things resulting from the panic like Chick Tracts claiming D&D will damn you? Innocent people were sent to jail for murder because they were gothy enough to be accused of Satanism. People (including the right's favorite targets: immigrants and queer people!) spent decades in jail over accusations that they were ritualistically sexually abusing children—crimes that never even happened. Even less directly harmful shit like "aliens built the pyramids" is only possible if you begin from a position of assuming it's more likely ALIENS built the pyramids than that ancient African people were capable of doing it and then ignore the fact that we do know how the damn things were built.

I don't think it's entertaining for a fictional story to go "hey, you know this conspiracy that was created to promote prejudice against minorities and has been used to hurt and kill people? Wouldn't it be sooo silly if there were a world where it's actually TRUE?? Wouldn't it be so funny if the antisemites and racists and homophobes and fascists were right about everything?"

So no. I'm not gonna use a fictional setting to validate any real world conspiracies; and I'm not gonna bring a whiff of antisemitic & racist conspiracies into a goofy comedy setting.

[vvioletsforroses444]

˚ʚ♡ welcome to my girlblog ♡ɞ˚

porn blogs pls dni

‧₊˚✧ ⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ‧₊˚✧

୨୧┇my name is irene, i am 5teen, my birthday is in the 4th of december ♡🌷

୨୧┇i'm an enfp and a saggitarius and from spain🇪🇸 🩰

୨୧┇i follow back and i would love to make friends on here 🎀

‧₊˚✧ ⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ‧₊˚✧

╰─ - ̗̀ꪆ୧ my favorite...

୨୧┇colors: pink, dark red, white, baby blue

୨୧┇shows: euphoria, pretty little liars, skins uk, anne with an e, scream queens, north and south, rupaul's drag race, squid game, the end of the fucking world

୨୧┇movies: priscilla, helter skelter, lilja 4-ever, but i'm a cheerleader, pearl, the virgin suicides, girl interrupted, the bling ring, marie antoinette, thirteen, grease, jennifer's body, mean girls, clueless, legally blonde, uptown girls, black swan, buffalo 66, lolita, alice in wonderland, tangled, little women, barbie, dirty dancing, speak, 500 days of summer, 10 things i hate about you, anyone but you, when marnie was there, american beauty, bye bye birdie, pride and prejudice, the little mermaid

୨୧┇artists: olivia rodrigo, sabrina carpenter, gracie abrams, lana del rey, phoebe bridgers, chappell roan, taylor swift, ariana grande, charli xcx, melanie martinez, britney spears, remy bond, marina and the diamonds, fiona apple, the smiths, elvis presley, ayesha erotica, nancy sinatra, beabadoobee, big thief, adrienne lenker, billie eilish, conan gray, hole, kesha, lady gaga, katy perry, mars argo, mitski, nicki minaj, rihanna, the ronnettes, will wood, mazzy star, cocteau twins, azealia banks, tv girl, girl in red, doechii

୨୧┇books: my dark vanessa, tess of the d'urbervilles, lolita, elvis and me, being lolita a memoir, diary of an oxygen thief, my year of rest and relaxation, the virgin suicides

‧₊˚✧ ⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ‧₊˚✧

╰─ - ̗̀ꪆ୧ interests & more!

୨୧┇likes: shopping, watching movies, listening to music, writing, drawing, girlblogging, watching true crime, hanging out, sleeping, vintage, the 60s, the 2000s, sofia coppola, reading, history, summer, pets, travelling, pop music, sweets, dancing, singing, alone time, old disney, makeup, nails, class of 09, priscilla presley, baking, workout, cassie howard, duncanyounot

୨୧┇dislikes: maths, mean people, sexist people, porn blogs, blogs that promote eating disorders, trump, not supporting feminism, homophobes, racists

୨୧┇dms open to everyone

୨୧┇my spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/celkm7ehd0oz4adokngy8jrg2?si=pkl4_y6URjObuy7PYk2cBg

୨୧┇thanks for reading x 🤍

‧₊˚✧ ⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ‧₊˚✧

[dukeofdelirium]

I know Priscilla’s ugly ass is not out here trying to trash Michael Jackson’s name publicly when she allowed her own boyfriend to sexually abuse her DAUGHTER for YEARS!

Priscilla, burn in fucking hell already. Michael never took advantage of your damn daughter. Michael was never a huge fan of Elvis Presley, either! And he did NOT marry Lisa Marie to get ahold of her last name or Elvis’s music 🤣

Michael already owned Elvis songs long before he ever got with Lisa. And he sure as shit didn’t need y’all’s surname. He was a JACKSON. And not just any Jackson, but THEE Michael Jackson. The self made King of Pop, Rock and Soul. A self made billionaire by the age of 19. The greatest selling solo artist of all time. The most awarded artist that’s ever lived! A man who successfully owned HALF of the music industry.

Get the fuck outta here and go flap your botched jaws somewhere else bitch. Wanna talk about taking advantage of your daughter? Let’s talk about your boyfriend! Who admitted in his own book that he wanted to have sex with your 10 year old daughter! A man you NEVER turned over to the cops!

Priscilla, you always hated Michael because you felt threatened by his success which greatly overshadowed your husbands. You hated Michael because he genuinely loved your daughter, and any shred of happiness she possessed you wanted to swallow and destroy!

You hated Michael because he actually treated Lisa Marie well. You got inside Lisa’s head and convinced her not to have kids with Michael because YOUR racist white ass didn’t want mixed grand babies! YOU got in Lisa’s head and convinced her that Michael didn’t love her, that he was going to divorce her, that he was out to get her. YOU made Lisa leave only for her to later find out that everything she’d been told by you was a lie.

But by that point it was too late, wasn’t it? Michael didn’t trust your daughter anymore, not like he once did. And you knew that was all you needed to do, to keep them apart. Make them distrust each other, when the only person that should have ever been distrusted was your snake ass!

Michael and Lisa deserved better than your ugly ass leeching off of their relationship. Lisa deserved a better mother than you. You ruined their marriage when they genuinely loved each other. Shameful.

Michael is NOT your scapegoat, Priscilla. Shut the fuck up!

[lustnhim]

🕊️ “welcome to my blog!” 🕊️

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ abt me! — my names vivian, but u can call me vi or viv! i’m 19 and i’m from ky! im a big daddy elvis enthusiast n’ my fav era is 1976 <3

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 my interests! — elvis (obvi) ,writing ,drawing, vintage + gothic fashion, old school rock, austin butler, collecting merch, and pretty lil’ pictures !

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ interact! — elvis + austin fans, anyone with my interests, minors may interact with anything on my blog unless marked ‘mdni’

𐙚 ₊⋆𖦹 dni! — basic dni criteria (homophobic + transphobic, racist etc..), elvis haters, rude ppl, those who shit on newer fans, gatekeepers

𐙚․︎ʺ��. ݁₊ ⊹ on this blog! — this is mainly a photos blog but i also plan on posting fanfics aswell! (i wanna mention it’s formatted for mobile so things look a lil goofy on computers )

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ fanfics! — MY MASTERLIST! 🦢 my writing is kind of mediocre but i’ll always put 100% effort in it <3 i’ll write pretty much anything and my requests are open rn so don’t be shy !

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ extra! — if u wanna be friends PLZZZ just ask me! i barely have any friends who love elvis like i do so it would be rlly nice to have some !!

‧₊˚ ✧ “ i really love you baby, cross my heart “ ✧˚₊‧

[armyangxls]

About me: My name is Lexi, I’m 21, Queer, Christian writer, editor, neurodivergent, and my pronouns are she/they

About my stories: Most of my stories are written as chronically ill gender neutral readers! And all are autistic queer plus size readers!

What I post: fandom stuff, fanfics, stories, icons, gifs, fancasts, stimboards, etc

My f/os: Tex Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Richie Kirsch, Evan Buckley, Ticci Toby, Ryan Hudson, Corey Cunningham, Henry Creel, Mike Munroe, Chris Halliwell, Gilbert Blythe, Johnny Sawyer, Cooper Adams, Herr König, Adam Maitland, Wadsworth (Clue), Travis Hackett and like any Ted Raimi character, Sayid Jarrah, Albert Wesker, etc

Random favorite things: Scooby Doo, non sketchy storms, St. Augustine FL, cozy days, horror media, video games, board games, cartoons, road trips, cozy spooky media, ghosts, period media, dusk, Ghibli movies, foggy days, witchy stuff, mysteries, celestial stuff, decorations, paranormal!

Favorite aesthetics: whimsigoth, fairy Grunge, tropical girl, spooky coastal town, anything cozy or spooky!

Favorite music: Chase Atlantic, Chappell Roan, Ethel Cain, Brye, Isabel LaRosa, She Wants Revenge, BTS, TV girl, Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Fleetwood Mac, Olivia Rodrigo, The Neighborhood, Lovelytheband, Mazzy Star, Melanie Martinez, Halsey!

Favorite YouTubers: Jake Webber, Johnnie Gilbert, Sam and Colby, Loey Lane, Trek Trendy, Jessii Vee!

Fandoms: BTS, The Vampire Diaries, Encanto, Stranger Things, DC Stargirl, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Fear Street, Scream, The Lost Boys, Outer Banks, 9-1-1, 9-1-1 Lone Star, The Crow, Halloween, Nancy Drew, Lisa Frankenstein, House Of Wax, Pretty Little Liars, Elvis (2022), Bridgerton, Are You Afraid of The Dark?, Fate The Winx Saga, Anne of Green Gables (1985-), Riverdale, The Maze Runner, Creepypasta, Marble Hornets, American Horror Story & Stories, Harry Potter (anti JKR), Fantastic Beasts, Scream TV Series, Charmed, Dead By Daylight, My Babysitter’s A Vampire, Sense and Sensibility, I Am Not Okay With This, Love Victor, It (2017), Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, The Strangers Prey at Night, Rizzoli And Isles, Texas Chainsaw Massacre game, Five Nights At Freddy's, Abigail, Trap, Beetlejuice Lost, Found, CBS Ghost, Clue, Degrassi, etc

Social Medias: @btsarmygirl417 Edit Instagram TikTok @starry-ghost-tour my reblog account @whimsyspookyloves my f/o account

Playlist: Character playlists Part Two Monthly Playlist

DNI: Racists, Homophobos, Transphobos, pro-eds, fatphobos, ableists, Trump Supporters, Nazis, Proshipers, anti self-diagnose, conservatives, etc

Taglists: Stranger Things Taglist Scream Taglist Stargirl taglist Fear Street taglist

Masterlists: Writing Masterlist Gif Masterlist Test Posts Masterlist Fancasts Masterlist Icons Masterlist

Show and tell f/os: Part One Two three

🔮🕯️🎃🧸🥳👽🎃🔮👻🐇📽️🎃🕯️🔮

[iiiidiotnathanieliii]

intro post! ✮

last updated = june 6, 2025

✦ - about me = my name is Nathaniël / Nathaniel but you can call me Nate. I'm trans ftm and demiromantic/panromantic. he/him. I love a lot of bands but my all time favorites are Green Day (hyperfixating on them so bad rn), the White Stripes (or literally any band Jack White has been in) and Imagine Dragons (I've loved them since I was like 10 😭 I can't unlove them). I also have a really bad Nevermoor hyperfixation. if you're a fan of the series too PLEASE INTERACT WITH ME. I like drawing, reading, making bracelets, collecting CDs, and learning languages :D

✦ - current hyperfixations = Green Day, Nevermoor, Jack White III, idwtbamg, My Chemical Romance, STOMACH BOOK, femtanyl, Imagine Dragons, NOAHFINNCE

✦ - favorite bands / artists = Green Day (+ all their sideprojects), Jack White III (+ every single band he's been in. from the Upholsterers to Two Star Tabernacle and from the White Stripes to the Dead Weather), Imagine Dragons, Dan Reynolds, Daniel Platzman, the Fratellis, YUNGBLUD, Nico Vega, NOAHFINNCE, Free Refills, VCR, Dead Kennedys, Gorillaz, Mother Mother, My Chemical Romance, Gerard Way, Elvis Presley, Left Alone, Otoboke Beaver, Ramones, the Kills, Cock Sparrer, Madilyn Mei, Dwaun, Operation Ivy, Minor Threat, Go Betty Go, Goblin Daycare, Trash Fashion, STOMACH BOOK, femtanyl and probably a lot more :D

✦ - favorite music genres = egg punk (I love egg punk so much), punk rock, synth punk, ska punk, really any kind of punk music, garage rock, blues rock, rockabilly, rock-n-roll, power pop, and even a little bit of folk and country

✦ - I like guitars. I love playing guitar. I can't even explain how much I love guitars. I think about guitars a lot. guitarists are so talented. did you know I like guitars? (this sounds stupid, ik, but genuinely. I love guitars.)

✦ - favorite movies / series / youtubers = Night at the Museum, Rat Race, Herby Fully Loaded, Young Sheldon, xokobee, the Click, kallmekris, Stevie T, NOAHFINNCE, Jammidodger, OneTopic

✦ - links = straw.page || spotify || pinterest || last.fm || pronouns.page || and I don't how to link my discord acc but it's 'iiiidiotnathanieliii' :D

✦ - askbox and dms are always open!! also, feel free to tag me in tag games. I love doing tag games :3

✦ - no homophobes, transphobes, queerphobes, sexists, racists, misogynists, ableists, TERFs, nazis, trump supporters, fascists and just assholes in general ‼️

✦ - tags!!

#me / #oop = literally me. things I relate to or describe me in some kind of way

#live from my brain = me talking about random stuff

#my art ✮˚.⋆ = speaks for itself. I don't usually post a lot of my art though. I'm gonna try to post it more often

other tags speak for themselves :D

I saw a lot of people do this so I'm doing it too =

✦ - AWESOME MOOTS AND FRIENDS ‼️ GIVE THEM A FOLLOW. THEY DESERVE IT.

@3cheers4venom @bunnyinakangolhat @touch3d-by-ang3ls @zeroxthedumbassgaybastard @pirulated @thestupidestseagull @nico-967 @hawthorne-swift-enthusiasttt @nevermoorfan6789 @mychemicalplatonicrelationship @cococomiskry32 @leoluvsbilkyjo @hummussock @professional-gru @foggyeyezz + a lot more moots <3

and one of my irl best friends @elijmoe !!

I also have a Green Day ecosystem blog @21stcenturyecosystem !!

I'll update this is if I get a new idea or if I get a new hyperfixation lol

have a nice day!! :D

dividers || femtanyl blinkies || saviors blinkie

[buglass]

✼ ҉ Intro ҉ ✼

꩜ About Me ꩜

27 with too much free time on my hands and ADHD.

I’m a naturally shy and anxious person, but feel free to reach out. My inbox is always open!

Whatever pronouns are fine.

Most, if not all, of my writing will feature black women as the main characters/FC since there are so few, and I am one. But obviously, feel free to read and engage with it regardless!

I love all things Elvis and other fandoms, so you may occasionally see different content on my account.

This is a side blog under @xzny

Not a safe space for fascists, terfs, racists, homophobes, or general hatred.

✼ ҉ Masterlist (18+) ҉ ✼

꩜ Elvis-Related One-Shots ꩜

【☆】 BLOODSONG (18+)

- Vampire!Elvis AU

【☆】 Love a Man in Uniform (18+)

- Army!Elvis invites you to his German villa.

【☆】 Lonely Man (Angsty Fluff)

- A Christmas Blurb: Unsuspecting fan finds a lonesome Elvis on the beach in the Bahamas on Christmas Day. CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE

【☆】 Just a Little Bit (18+)

- You meet Elvis on the set of Blue Hawaii and give his thighs the attention they deserve.

꩜ Elvis-Related Fics ꩜

【☆】 Funny How Time Slips Away (18+)

- Elvis!Clone AU CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR (WIP)

【☆】 Me, Me More Cowboy (A Short Series)

- Cowboy!Elvis AU. CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE

【☆】 Are You Hopeful Tonight? (Unfinished)

꩜ Masters of the Air-Related Fics ꩜

【☆】 stone in my shoe (One-Shot)

- Gale “Buck” Cleven x John “Bucky” Egan

꩜ Austin Butler-Related Fics ꩜

【☆】 Good Girl (18+) - Austin praises you.

[banesberry-anomoly]

Pinned

° 👁 System 👁 Alterhuman 👁 °

Syshost is an Alto Clef fictive and a Soundwave IRL

Reblog sideblog: @soundwaves-memorybanks (I will still reblog to main, but this is so I can reblog more stuff + spam reblog without clogging main lol) we hoard transformers worldbuilding posts over there under the tag #tf worldbuilding

Term hoarding sideblog where we sometimes coin things: @schrodingers-fruitbasket

Scp elvis gimmick blog: @dr-elvis-presley

Art tag: Banesberry art

Commissions | Art for Pal

Kofi

Bluesky 🦋 | Strawpage 🌾 | Spotify 🎵 | Twitter 🐦 | Tiktok ♪ | | Airbuds 🎶

Art server | Site 113 Rp Server

SimplyPlural: BanesberryAnomoly

🚬 ¤ BYI ¤ 🚬

We have a special interest in SCP and TMA entities, and current hyperfixations on Transformers and Forsaken and will mostly be posting about those, though we do branch out into other fandoms we like. Transformers is our main fandom right now, SCP is our secondary

We mostly draw chubby and fat characters. If you don't like that then fuck off

Yes you can draw fanart of us and our characters, tag us or send it to us after so we can see it 8⁰]

Please block the #suggestive and related tags if you dont want to see that or are under 16

Also block 'Berry mild sauce' if youre under 16, and 'Berry hot sauce' if a minor please and thank you

Mutuals can ask for our discord

⚠️ DNI ⚠️

Proship • TransID • Radqueer

Racist • Islamophobe • Zionist • Nazis

Pedos/Maps • Groomers • Pro contact harmful para

Terfs • Queerphobes • Intersexists • Anti Mspec Gays/Lesbians and other 'contradictory identities'

Sanists • Ablists • Fatphobic • 'Personality Disorder Abuse' Believers • You demonize any mental disorders

Anti Furry • Anti Alterhuman • Anti Endo

Anti Good Faith Identities

Fandom Specific:

[Transformers] MegaBee shippers fuck off I hate that ship with a burning passion you will be shot on sight. SunnySides and BeeOp shippers can also fuck right off. MegaStar and Elite Trine shippers are on thin ice due to how I see those dynamics but are fine to int if respectful

[SCP] AdminBright defenders go the hell awayyy. Bright users are on very thin ice if I dont also know you from elsewhere, kin and introjects are exempt from this

Those that break the dni will get thrown into The Pit

[crowleysgirl56]

Book Omens! A meandering journey to reading Good Omens to my son. Part three.

Things of note:

- The Elvis gag. I absolutely didn’t get this joke the first or even second time I read the book. (Is it included in season 1? I don’t remember it). The set up of a diner chef implied to be an aging Elvis, and then the payoff of Death later on in the biker bar playing the trivia machine game which asks what year did Elvis die and his reply “I NEVER TOUCHED HIM”. Chef’s kiss. 10 out of 10. What a brilliant call back. That is 100% a Terry joke.

- below screen shot: this hit me a little hard. He was so upset he cursed Aziraphale as well. From the point of view in the book, Crowley was scared for himself because Hell was after him and that he went to Aziraphale for (what I’m assuming was) protection. The fact that Aziraphale wasn’t there makes it seem more like a betrayal. He doesn’t cry about losing his best friend.

- in addition to this, the more I read Crowley’s sections after this, he really is very scared of Hell, but there is no indication in the rest of those scenes that he is upset with Aziraphale not being there or missing him. It’s interesting to see just how much the fandom projected onto that relationship in the times since. Like, honestly their relationship is so subtle it’s almost barely there.

- something that hit me terribly (and I had to explain it to my son because he was VERY confused), were the incredibly racist sections of Aziraphale flying around the globe trying to possess a body. (As an aside it’s interesting how the book provides no context around why he’s doing this. We at least get the added scenes in season 1 of him in heaven and then speaking to Crowley before possessing Madame Tracy). First he speaks to an Australian First Nation person, then a native Haitian both of which are performing rituals to summon their ancestors. In basically a very stereotypical manner. The type of trope scene you used to get in 90’s Western media because they’ve misunderstood a specific cultural practise. Completely forgot about these sections. I KNOW this is written in the late 80’s and we shouldn’t judge it based on what we know now. Still isn’t great and disappointing I never noticed it before. So glad that wasn’t included in season 1.

- Speaking of we shouldn’t judge things from the 80’s but I’m going to do it anyway, the First Nation person calls Aziraphale a poofter. Ssiiiiggghhhhh! Ok, apologies for not censoring the word, but it’s very colloquially Australian so I thought if I censored it people might not know what it is. AWFUL gay slur (and one I’m happy to say I very rarely hear anymore. I think we’ve finally put that one in the bin). But honestly, I get they’re trying to really push the idea that Aziraphale appears very gay, but is this necessary? Also, in Australia in the 80’s, did we really decide that anyone with a posh accent was automatically gay? There are some times when I miss the 80’s and 90’s, but man, stuff like this! The 80’s and 90’s can get in the bin!

- I will admit Aziraphale possessing the American Evangelical was pretty funny though. The speech he gives is quite interesting because it implies he is FAR more questioning of Heaven and the ineffable plan than he is in the show. Like, he really is very resigned to not knowing how it will end and he doesn’t have that much faith in heaven.

We’re in the home stretch now. Tune in soon for the last part of the book.

[hooked-on-elvis]

"Isn't Elvis a racist?", "Didn't he stole the black men's music?", "What about Elvis’ grooming nature?", "He died in his bathroom", "Pedo", "He's just that famous because he's white".