#louisiana saturday night

[thatbanditqueen]

Louisiana Saturday Night, a new fic.....

I have been working on a new WIP set at the Louisiana Hayride from 1954 - 1956, and will probably post chapter one in the next few days. It starts in October 1954, when 19 year-old Elvis had never played outside the small clubs of Memphis, except for that once. At the Opry. And that didn't go too well.

Now he faces his biggest audience ever at the Lousiana Hay Ride: over three thousand people in-person (a thousand more than the Opry!) and millions over the radio. He has only recorded two singles, never been away from home much or gone beyond second base with a girl, and doesn't know much about life as a touring musician. But he's eager to learn and grab every opportunity he can with those long, inexperienced slender fingers.

This fic will have my usual blend of poorly executed dry humor, fluff, smut and angst.

please comment or reblog if you want to be tagged - here is a preview.

Here is a snippet from Chapter 1: Hot Wax

Approximately 9:15 p.m.

Saturday, October 16, 1954

The Municipal Auditorium in Shreveport, Louisiana

The first time she saw Elvis up close he was hunched over the sink tapping his fingers along the porcelain rim. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, he reminded Freddie of a bottle rocket about to blow. She smiled at the thought of him bursting through the ceiling like a comic book hero, his oversized sports coat trailing behind him like a long pink cape.

She wasn’t sure if he was recovering from his first set or talking himself into the second, but what she did know was that this kid was as green as they came. Horace had been reading Pappy the riot act yesterday when she walked by his office, yelling at him for booking “some hillbilly who just fell off the turnip truck, cuz Sam Philips brings you a bottle of Jack every time he comes through town.”  The audience out there had been so taken aback by his country bop they’d forgotten to clap, and she doubted Pappy would be allowed to invite him back.

As she watched the show up in the control booth, Freddie had wondered if Elvis’ performance had gone over better with the radio listeners who hadn’t had to watch his stilted, awkward movements on stage. There was a ragged emotional tenor to his voice, and now that she was standing right in front of him she had to admit he had a dark, sultry allure that was strikingly different from all these other boys doing their best Gene Autry impression.

But geez, now the poor kid began to mutter into his reflection and she hoped he wouldn’t cry. Freddie barely knew how to deal with the girls she found balling in the bathroom. 

“Um, hey there. You ok?”

Elvis jerked around and ran his hand through his sopping wet hair and straightened up, stiff like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Most folks are nervous their first time. That’s a big crowd.”

“Don’t you worry about me, honey, I ain’t nervous.” He looked her over, a sneer forming at his mouth. “Didn’t you heard the man? I’m the hottest thing on wax. Mr. Logan just asked me to play a second set.”

“Oh - uh - well, I guess I was wrong.”

“MMhmmm. Just getting geared up to go back on stage.” He settled his hands at his waist and shot her a sulky fierce glower, then waggled his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Oh, well that's good. Maybe you can answer something for me then.”

“Anything baby.” 

He softened and bit his lip, giving her what she took to be his version of a come hither look. He looked like he was fighting back a sneeze and Freddie had to swallow her laughter. 

“Why are you in the Ladies’ Powder Room?”

Elvis paused and looked down for a beat as he shook his head and laughed.

She nodded toward the shelf of perfume bottles, powders and the basket of dainty pink sanitary napkin boxes with Kotex printed along the sides.

He let out a low whistle and rubbed his mouth.

“Man o man, I guess you got me, might be jus a lil nervous. I ‘spose I really weren’t watching were I was going, huh?”

Freddie couldn’t help the way she dumbly smiled back, noticing up close how long and thick his eyelashes were as he looked down at her through them. She suddenly had the urge to take his hand and lead him to the green room where she could make him a hot cup of tea and comfort him and give him all the advice she had from her four years of working at KWKH. But instead she took a deep breath and fidgeted with her cardigan.

“I won't tell anyone you were in here. It can be our secret."

other fic taglist - i won't tag you again on this unless you comment you want to be tagged:

@whositmcwhatsit

@from-memphis-with-love

@vintageshanny

@shakerattlescroll

@peskybedtime

@be-my-ally

@ellie-24

@missmaywemeetagain

@powerofelvis

@arrolyn1114

@lookingforrainbows

@eliseinmemphis

@kingdomforapony

@everythingelvispresley

@richardslady121

@dkayfixates

@artlover8992

@freudianslumber

@amydarcimarie

@toreigh

@18lkpeters

@yynneessmons

@ashtag6887

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@returntopresley

@rjmartin11

@louisejoy86

@notstefaniepresley

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@j-v-9-2

@beeandheroddobsessions

@doll-elvis

@burningloverdoll

@ohjustpeachy1

@everythingelvispresley

@velvetelvis

@horror-movieshoes

@ooihcnoiwlerh

@moonchild-daniella

@lialocklear

@obsessionisthecure

@tacozebra051

@elvispresleywife

@bisexualwvtson

@father-of-2cats

@lillypink

@godlypresley

@crash-and-cure

@misspresley

@daffieapple

@louisejoy86

@burningloverdoll

@stargirllily19

@amydarcimarie

@elvisrealgf

@littlehoneyposts

@eapep

@stylespresleyhearted

[evieplaylists]

new orleans // playlist

imagine yourself in a jazz bar at night, surrounded w chatter while you move your body to the music. warm amber hues, sunset reds and oranges, boozy feelings, a tipsy smile on your face, the smell of cigarettes caught in your hair and a sweet date by your side.

-

-

i initially made this playlist to use for while i study so there are a few unrelated instrumentals but the jazz vibes got to me hahah.

[codedsoul]

SNL - Maine Justice w/Justin Timberlake

[djmonet]

cowards put the end of the song!!

Unmute

[powersurger]

Well, you get down the fiddle and you get down the bow

Kick off your shoes and you throw 'em on the floor

Dance in the kitchen 'til the mornin' light

Louisiana Saturday night

[bfpnola]

nov 9 - nov 13 readings

hi! this is reaux (she/they)! as many of you know, BFP is slowly waking up and will be undergoing a full makeover in the coming months. in the mean time, to help get back into the pattern of posting and to continue to share resources, i want to start posting what i read each week!

without further ado, here is everything i've been learning from and engaging with so far just between last saturday night [nov 9, 2024] and right now [wednesday afternoon, nov 13, 2024]! i tried to post this on tiktok @/edgeofeden.17 (go check me out for cool political talks and reading recs!) with my reactions as well, but they said it violated community guidelines :(

journal article: The House on Bayou Road: Atlantic Creole Networks in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries

wikipedia: Plaçage

wikipedia: Signare

paperback book: Africans In Colonial Louisiana: The Development of Afro-Creole Culture in the Eighteenth-Century

article: Why Is Gen Z So Sex-Negative?: A prehistory of the Puriteen.

article: Policy-makers must not look to the “Nordic model” for sex trade legislation

article: Sex workers face unique challenges when trying to unionize: Anti-sex work stigma and labor status create roadblocks in sex workers’ fight against the industry status quo

wikipedia: Decriminalization of sex work

short youtube video: "Decriminalization of sex work does not mean the decriminalization of human trafficking."

short youtube video: What About Legalization? Decriminalization is the only solution

short youtube video: Dis/Ability and Sex Work Decriminalization

short youtube video: "Helping people through police is inherently coercive." - Gilda Merlot

wikipedia: Page Act of 1875

essay: Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power by Audre Lorde

wikipedia: Erotic Capital

long youtube video: KATHERINE MCKITTRICK: Curiosities, Wonder, and Black Methodologies // 09.14.20

journal article: Black life is Not Ungeographic! Applying a Black Geographic Lens to Rural Education Research in the Black Belt

journal article: Black matters are spatial matters: Black geographies for the twenty-first century

journal article: Unspoken Grammar of Place: Anti-Blackness as a Spatial Imaginary in Education

short video: Chicago Works | Andrea Carlson: Shimmer on Horizons

zine: Evaluating What Skills You Can Bring to Radical Organizing

diagram + workbook?: The Social Change Ecosystem Map (2020)

essay: How to Build Language Justice

guide: Anti-Oppressive Facilitation for Democratic Process: Making Meetings Awesome for Everyone

radical resource library: Center for Liberatory Practice & Poetry

short essay: The Short Instructional Manifesto for Relationship Anarchy

essay/blog post: Access Intimacy: The Missing Link

i think that's everything? whew. let's see how i finish off the week! if you need PDFs for anything i didn't directly link, lmk and i'll find a way to get it to you. might upload it to my google drive or something!

--

topics: Louisiana Creole history + heritage, women of color + erotic capital, sex work decriminalization, Black geography, revolutionary organizing, language, relationship anarchy, disability, intimacy

[madsblogsstuff]

heaven - joe burrow x reader (pt. 1)

INSPO:

She was innocence. A perfectly painted picture created by only the greatest higher-ups. She was the sheer image of flawless and excellence all wrapped up in a human body, and she was standing right in front of my own two eyes. Y/n Taylor - our Coach, Zac Taylor’s daughter was nothing short of gorgeous. Every-time she smiled or talked had me wanting more, and more. I couldn’t get enough of her. I knew she was destined to be mine. She was heaven on earth.

———————————————————————-

I woke up in my dorm still sore from the football game last night. As much as I love being an LSU Tiger Girl, my body still disagreed with all the intricate dance routines we do for game-days. Just something I’ll never get used to in all my years of dancing, I suppose. Yet, the pain was worth the screams of the crowd when we hit our final 8-counts and all the recognition we are able to get from the way our bodies move - in a good way. LSU and dance were traits I don’t think I could ever get rid of. Baton Rouge was my home now, and a damn good one if I do say so myself. 

I decided to clamber my way out of the lifted twin bed and get a start with my day. I opened the blackout curtains to the bright Louisiana sun, shinning its way into the small room. My roommate, Kelsey, had already left early in the morning to go see family for the day. Yes, Baton Rouge is a good home - but it would still be just as amazing if I had some family that lived here. I wish I could go see family like Kelsey did, but the fact that my family lived about 4 states over; prevented me from seeing them as often as I would like. It also prevented them from being in the stands on LSU game-days. Which meant they weren’t able to see what I worked so hard to become, why I chose dance as a sport. It made me upset, with it being my rookie year and no family to come watch every Saturday, but I have amazing teammates and friends who make up for it. 

Now, I don’t blame my parents harshly for missing game days. My dad stays busier than a squirrel in a nut factory, but both him and mom try to be here whenever they can. My dad, the one and only Zac Taylor, is the new head coach of the Cincinnati Bengals. So yeah, I really can’t blame him for not being here on game days. After making my way to the rooms private bathroom; I decided to take a nice long shower to wash away the hairspray, dried sweat, and body glitter that had invaded every bit of my skin. Turning off the water, I grabbed my towel and dried off. After doing necessary hygiene and hair styling, I put on an LSU shirt, black shorts and my white tennis shoes. The weather was about as hot as hell in Louisiana and the dorms can get pretty stuffy at times, so I always try to stay as cool as possible. I was finishing up putting my jewelry on when my phone started to ring.

“Hello?” I picked up not even bothering to look at the contact name. 

“Honey! It’s so good to hear your voice again!” A joyful voice spread from the phone to my ears and my mouth grew into a huge smile.

“Mom! It’s great to hear your voice again to. What’s going on?” I responded back, starting to miss my mom a little more than I already had been.

“Oh nothing really hun, I should be asking you what’s going on after that huge win last night! Your dad and I got to watch some it and even got to see you dance some - well from what the cameras would show”  My heart swelled, mom and dad were actually watching for me last night.

“I’m glad y’all could see me dance some, I wish you guys could be here. I miss y’all” I said, wishing I could be with my mom and dad right now.

“We miss you so much Y/n, I’m honestly still not use to seeing your bedroom empty” I heard my moms tone change. I hated hearing and seeing my mom get upset, but I know me living so far away took a toll on her.

I opened my mouth to respond, but then my mom started talking again. “Wait, how many classes do you have this week? And do you have practice any?” She questioned.

I looked over at my desk calendar checking to see if this upcoming week was busy. “Uhm, I actually only have one in person class this week on Thursday and no practice this week because it’s an off week, Why?” I questioned back.

“Why don’t your dad and I buy you a plane ticket and you come up and spend the week at home!” My eyes lit up in excitement, going to Cincinnati sounded great right now.

“Really? You guys would do that for me?” I said, surprising myself that I was able to form that sentence without screaming in happiness.

“Of course hun, I’m going to go tell your dad and get that ticket! Would you be good with leaving tonight?” 

“Yes, that sounds great! Whatever gets me to y’all the fastest!” I don’t even think happy is the word to describe my mood right now.

“Yay! I’ll text you the ticket and everything else as soon as I get it Y/n. I love you sweetheart, I can’t wait to see you!” My mom squealed into my ear. 

“Okay mom, I love you and can’t wait to see you too!” After that we said our goodbyes and I had some bags to pack.

I shoot Kelsey a text saying I had a last minute trip to Cincinnati and probably wouldn’t be here when she got back. I let her know when I’d be back and that if she needed anything - to call. I grabbed some duffel bags and started packing up whatever I had, still in shock that I was going to be able to see my parents. Even though it had only been a few months since I last saw them, being separated from them made it feel like years. 

Mom ended up sending my plane ticket about thirty minutes after our call had ended. I was departing at 7 tonight, and with it only being 11 in the morning - I had some time to kill till I needed to leave for the airport. I continued packing when my phone buzzed.

Coach Dad

Miss you lil bit ❤️ so glad you’re coming home. Let me know when you get to the airport.

Love, Dad.

I smiled at his text. He still felt the need to sign off his texts like a letter, even after the countess times of me telling him ‘people don’t do that’. Ever since my dad took the head coach position of the Bengals, I don’t have much time to see or talk to him. So, I cherish any moment I am able to get with him. Hopefully this trip would allow me to get even closer to my parents - especially my dad.

———————————————————————-

I threw all my bags in the back of my car and hopped into the drivers seat. I cranked up the car, pulled out of my dorm buildings parking lot and made the quick 20 minute drive to the airport. 

Upon arriving to the airport, it was only 4:45 p.m. - so I had time to get checked in, go through TSA and chill before my flight. Dad always said to ‘get to the airport extremely early, just incase’ although it was annoying when we flew when I was younger. I was never known to be an early bird, so leaving at 4 a.m. for 10 a.m. flights when I was a kid was dreadful. I still remember when we moved to Cincinnati, I was a bit younger when we moved but the flight over was one of those 4 a.m. deals. I texted dad and mom that I arrived at the airport and got out of the car to grab my bags. I checked in at the first desk I saw and then walked down the incredibly long terminal. ‘Why did airports have to be so big?’ I thought as my feet started to drag. I reached my boarding area and went through TSA - thankfully not having to be stopped to be patted down. After TSA, I was free to roam till the flight boarded. I wasn’t really hungry and airport food is expensive, so I don’t think I’ll get food - plus it was only a 3 hour flight, so I would just eat whatever they provide on the plane. I decided to sit down and scroll on my phone, trying to waste time. I looked at the texts my parents had sent back about my flight and to text them when I took off and landed, so I responded back to those first.

I then opened my Instagram and started to scroll through and like what was on my feed. Photos ranged from LSU posts to something my friends had posted the day before. After scrolling for a minute, a Cincinnati Bengals post popped up on my feed. Yes, I did follow the Bengals account but I never really kept up with them - I was always too invested in LSU to even think twice about the team dad coached. Plus since dad had only started coaching them this year, I really didn’t keep up with them - I hadn’t even gone to a game yet. The post consisted of introducing their rookies and their stats after the first few games. First slide: Tee Higgins - Wide Receiver, Second slide: Logan Wilson - Linebacker, Slide three: Akeem Brian- Davis - Linebacker, Fourth and final slide: Joe Burrow - Quarterback.

Joe Burrow. Joe Burrow. Joe Burrow. I repeated his name in my head over and over, but where had I heard it from? I decided to look this Burrow kid up and to say I was shocked was underplaying it.

Joe Burrow - Heisman Trophy Winner 2019!

Joe Burrow Drafted First Pick for Cincinnati Bengals!

Joe Burrow and LSU win 2019 National Championship!

Joe Burrow. The name made sense now. Joe Burrow. The dude was a fucking legend at LSU… and he just so happened to be playing for my dads team. I remember hearing people talk about him when I first arrived at LSU, especially the girls. I guess I’ve never put two and two together till now. I looked at pictures of him. I’ll give it to him - he was pretty cute, but from what I’ve heard he had a reputation at LSU; specifically a fuck-boy one. 

I looked up more about Burrow. Something about him was so interesting to me, I couldn’t figure out what it was though. I’m honestly surprised no one had asked me about him yet because of my dad - but I guess since dad was new, nobody really knew I was his daughter. 

Looking at his pictures more made notice how Joe looked absolutely angelic… like something from heaven. I shouldn’t get caught up in obsessing over him though. He had a bad reputation at LSU and most likely now, and I needed to keep mine a clean slate. I was attending school on a full ride athletic scholarship because of dance - being that the LSU Tiger Girls recruited me for their squad without even having to tryout.

If I ever got into an entanglement with a guy like Joe Burrow then there’s no telling what it would do to my character. There’s no way a guy that looks like Joe would step foot in my direction though. I’m the coaches daughter, so if he ever did figure out about me then I’d probably be way off limits…and he’d be totally out of my league.

After all my research and pondering, the airport intercom called over to say my flight was boarding. I grabbed my carry on bag from beside my chair and made my way to the tunnel outside of the plane, making sure to text my parents that we were boarding and going to leave soon. Once the other passengers and I were boarded and sat in our seats, the pilot went over the basic rules of plane, what to do in an emergency, and all the extra details. Once he finished and the plane was ready, we were good for take-off. As I relaxed in my seat and looked out my window at the runway lights, I couldn’t help but think about three things: Cincinnati, my parents, and Joe Burrow.

———————————————————————-

first part ever! ah so excited - i hope this turns out to be all i wanted in a fanfic, and i hope you guys enjoy it! <3

[ruler-of-turtle-kind]

@re-dracula

late one night I was sippin a bud

down came Vlad and he sucked out my blood

now i burn when i touch the sunlight

Transylvania Saturday Night

[byneddiedingo]

The Chase (Arthur Penn, 1966)

Cast: Marlon Brando, Jane Fonda, Robert Redford, E.G. Marshall, Angie Dickinson, Janice Rule, Miriam Hopkins, Martha Hyer, Richard Bradford, Robert Duvall, James Fox, Diana Hyland, Henry Hull, Jocelyn Brando. Screenplay: Lillian Hellman, based on a novel by Horton Foote. Cinematography: Joseph LaShelle. Production design: Richard Day. Film editing: Gene Milford. Music: John Barry.

Bad movies are often fun to watch anyway, and most of the people involved with The Chase, including director Arthur Penn, screenwriter Lillian Hellman, and star Marlon Brando, agreed that it was a bad movie. Brando let his opinion show, giving a sluggish performance that validates the old criticism that he mumbled his lines. Hellman had her script taken away and rewritten, and Penn struggled to deal with an ill-conceived project. The chief interest the film generates today is seeing actors like Jane Fonda, Robert Redford, and Robert Duvall on the brink of major stardom. There's a good deal of miscasting, including E.G. Mashall as the boss of a small town that seems to be in Texas or Louisiana. Marshall lacks the ruthless aura that the character needs. Angie Dickinson is wasted as the loving and dutiful wife of the town sheriff played by Brando. And Redford feels out of place in the role of Bubber Reeves, the town bad boy who escapes from prison (it's never quite clear what he did to be sent there) and stirs a manhunt, a lynch mob, and a conflagration in a junkyard. The town itself is a hotbed where everyone sleeps with everyone else's spouse and goes orgiastic on the Saturday night when the news of Bubber's escape breaks. It's a silly and lurid movie, but a little too long to be entertainingly bad.

[catelyngrant]

In the last three weeks, I have:

left my job of five years, which I loved, after reaching the end of a battle for necessary accommodations that became more urgent after getting covid two years ago;

got covid again, for the second time, and spent my last week at work home sick (really fucking sick! though last time i wasn't sick at all and all of the complications were long-term vs. acute);

had to cancel plans to visit friends, which I was really counting on!

recovered just enough to come down to Louisiana for my brother's outdoor wedding, which was absolutely diabolically scheduled for the Saturday after election day, only for...

a November surprise hurricane to form and take aim straight at us with likely landfall on the day of said wedding, which is planned to take place at my mom's house and mostly outside and has involved months of planning and a ton of work around the house, spearheaded by my disabled mother, who is...

straight up not coping with anything (fair! same!) as we move into election night, and intensifying my already extreme anxiety exponentially

All of this to say, it really fucking feels like the stage is set for something to happen and I have absolutely no idea if it's gonna be a cosmic balancing or if this is really just the shit paving the road we'll be taking these next four years!!!

[cardiaccanesblog]

A Letter to Hockey

My love of hockey is one of the most surprising and unsurprising things about me. This love was not an affair that made sense, but one that came so naturally. Growing up in southwest Louisiana, conformity is key. You go to the same churches, you go to the same schools, and you all like the same sports.

Football in my hometown is a religion in itself. During football season, you go to your church and ask the pastor about the LSU game last night. You then follow it up asking if he can put in a word with God that the Saints win this afternoon. You pray at church, asking God’s forgiveness, and then you pray at your house, asking God for the kicker to make this extra point to tie the game.

My family followed the same routine. Weekends were filled with College Gameday every Saturday, church in the morning in our Sunday best, and finally my whole family putting on the black and gold to cheer on our Saints.

I followed the routine along with them, I cheered at the appropriate times when there was a touchdown, but the game rarely held interest for me. After the Saints’ Super Bowl win in 2009, I became a more engaged fan. I watched the TV intently, I learned the referee’s hand signals, and I wanted so badly to understand all of the jargon that I heard around me.

Starting college I turned away from professional sports and began focusing on my college team. I dragged friends to games in the hottest, muggiest weather you can imagine, and I cheered. In grad school, I stopped.

Grad school was some of the hardest years of my life. I had very little joy, very little energy to do anything besides class, clinic, study, and repeat.

But then I was brought to my first hockey game.

Hockey in Louisiana is a surprising concept, but it intrigued me. I went to my first North American Hockey League game and everything changed. The pace, the aggression, the energy all changed everything for me. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I loved it. I dragged my partner to another game a few weeks later and was relieved to see that the magic hadn’t left.

I forgot about hockey after that. Too wrapped up in finding a residency, passing comps, and generally being overwhelmed by life. In April 2023, I learned I was moving to North Carolina. Honestly, I couldn’t have told you if North Carolina had a hockey team much less what they were called. However, after moving we learned that we were 2 hours from Raleigh, North Carolina, home of the Carolina Hurricanes.

My move took place during the offseason and I had no prior knowledge of the team, the sport, or even the 2023 Stanley Cup champions.

I, somewhat naively, believed that the NHL was one of the more progressive leagues for professional sports. It’s ironic that I began to love a sport at the same time the sport was turning its back on me.

I’m obsessive by nature. My Harry Potter, One Direction, Sherlock, and Supernatural fandom during my childhood would tell anyone that. I’m also a sports fan by nature. I grew up with football, baseball, and golf statistics being thrown around me. I listened to the play-by-plays and no matter what time a year, there was always a game on. So, of course when I find a sport that I learned to love on my own, I’m going to go all in.

I learned the team and the players. I learned the lines, the numbers, the positions, and the penalties. I watched videos to learn backchecking and forechecking. I learned offsides and icing and goaltender interference.

I jumped online and joined discussions. I voiced my opinions and tried to take the criticisms with grace. I learned the Hurricanes. I began to understand their system and its strengths. I was never made to feel like I didn’t belong by the people I interacted with.

I ignored the tweets that weren’t about me, but about people like me. I muted accounts that used slurs and wanted to pretend that these people didn’t exist. I wished for any sort of acknowledgement from the team I loved.

It’s 6/28/2024 and we haven’t been given that. I don’t expect that we will. The league and the teams won’t change until the people inside them change.

Though I don’t agree with a lot of the people in top positions and I’m sure they wouldn’t agree with me, I hope they never experience the heartbreak of loving something so much, but that same thing being the source of their pain, the source of their tears, and it being the very thing screaming at them that they don’t belong and they never will.

With much love,

A queer hockey fan

[outofcharacterproductions]

Oh you get out your fiddle

then you get out your bow

take off your shoes and

you throw them on the floor

free meeeeeeeeeee

[still-not-over-transformers]

@kitgirl91 Request

I lost the original request message but I had a screeenshot :3

Ain’t I Good to You?

(TFA Blitzwing x Female Human Reader)

Warnings: None other than intense simping :3

Word Count: ... 2400+ (I got a tad carried away)

Lingo: “Cher” (pronounced ‘sha’) = Cajun term of affection/endearment 

To those unfamiliar, Blitzwing’s 3 personalities are known as Icy, Hothead, & Random

Art courtesy of my beloved requester: @kitgirl91 BEHOLD THE TALENT

Inspiration for this request: The Mask Soundtrack - Susan Boyd - Gee Baby, Ain't I Good To You

The Decepticons had been promptly defeated at the hands of the Autobots, and brought back to Cybertron. Blitzwing was one of said Decepticons to be humiliated by being paraded through the streets of Cybertron as prisoners. But the Triple-changer would shortly make his escape and give the guard the slip, stealing a small ship and setting course for the only planet he knew had no Autobot activity anymore: Earth. 

After entering stasis, a few months later Blitzwing would awaken after crash landing on Earth. This time however, Blitzwing would find himself not in New Detroit, but in good old New Orleans, Louisiana. The Decepticon didn’t want to attract too much attention to himself, and immediately searched for a place to hide, and or blend in with. As he still retained his Earth-based alt-modes as a jet or tank, he chose to sneak into a nearby river-side Air Force base. He transformed into his jet-mode as he tried to brainstorm a plan. He would remain there for a few months, having little idea on how to proceed further, and he went into a deep stasis nap. Blitzwing would be slowly awakened one Saturday night to music and an upbeat yet hauntingly beautiful voice. Blitzwing transformed to see a riverboat slowly cruising down the bayou, warm lights illuminating the water as upbeat music echoed across the river, and a sensual and hypnotic voice filled the night. It was a new experience for the Decepticon, and for the first time Blitzwing was silent and listened until the music and that voice faded into the distance. 

The following week was uneventful as usual, Blitzwing growing evermore displeased that he lacked a plan. As the afternoon sun sailed across the sky, Blitzwing took note of a female human making their way through the airbase. This human caught his eye, as she was not dressed in the usual military uniforms of the soldiers or mechanics. Being in the back area of the base, and being utterly bored out of his mind, Blitzwing decided to have a bit of fun. 

You made your way through an array of various military vehicles and aircrafts, all stunning and huge, dwarfing you easily. The air was growing cooler as an Autumn breeze blew through, making you clutch tighter at your coat. A loud clang rang out to the side and you struggled to see anyone through a lineup of various fighter jets and helicopters. Curiosity got the better of you and you stepped to the side to investigate, “Hello?” A rather large fighter jet was before you, but something was off about it as its coloring did not match any of the other similar models. 

Suddenly the jet moved swiftly, lifting upright before transforming completely into a massive winged tan robot. Its face spun around rapidly, settling on a cool bluish face with a red optic and one monocle-like optic, staring down at you expectantly. Despite the shock, you just stood there calmly looking at him. 

Blitzwing’s gaze was fixed upon you, raising an optic ridge in curiosity, “You are not afraid, human? How curious you’ve no concern for your own life.” Again, his faceplate spins violently, revealing the black faceplate and scarlet red crazed jack-o-lantern optics and mouth of Random. He cackles in an excited and mildly psychotic tone, “This human is crazy! I like crazy…” Round and round Blitzwing’s faceplate spins, now revealing Hothead, his bright red faceplate and optics glaring down at you. He aggressively moves towards you, his optics obscured by a visor, but the angry expression on his face was easily readable, “Are you working with ze Autobots, human?! That’s why you aren’t cowering in fear, isn’t it!?” 

You raise your hands up in a gesture of innocence, hoping to convince the massive robot before you you weren’t any threat, “I have no idea what an ‘Autobot’ is. I’m not really sure what you are to be honest.”

“Why then are you not frightened of me? Do I look like I’d want to be friends with ze likes of you?” Icy said calmly, although in his mind he was genuinely intrigued by the fearless organic before him. Blitzwing’s face spun again, “OOOOOH Maybe we can make friendship bracelets!” Hothead took over and again, he spoke aggressively towards you, “What is a puny human like you even doing walking around in a military airbase?!”

You paused before explaining yourself, “Oh, well I was finishing up details regarding an upcoming job. Going to perform next month here to boost morale for the troops. Had to sign a bit of paperwork regarding my pay.”

The calm Icy took over and raised an optic ridge curiously, “Vat kind of performance?”

“I’m a Jazz singer. Not sure if you’d know what Jazz is, or music… but it’s my profession and most importantly my passion. I’m finally booking more gigs, last weekend was my first time performing on a riverboat. It was magical if I’m honest,” you spoke candidly, finding Blitzwing’s accent to be slightly adorable. 

“Vait…” Icy glances over at the nearby river on the other side of the river-side airbase, “Zat was your voice I heard?”

You were taken aback, “You heard me? How long have you been hiding in this airbase?”

“...Long enough. Ze music was… acceptable. And your voice… wasn’t displeasing” Icy said slowly, perhaps giving you a hesitant compliment. 

You smiled slightly, finding this strange giant robot to be rather endearing. “You know I will be performing this evening at “The Cat’s Meow” Jazz Club. It’s an outdoor venue, so you’re welcome to come if you’d like.” You extend your hand towards Blitzwing, a silver ticket stub in your grasp. 

Icy took a pause, considering whether or not to accept the ticket, before Random took over and eagerly snatched the ticket from your hands. “How could ve refuse such an offer!” he chuckled excitedly. 

You stepped back briefly as the ticket was taken from your hands, but you couldn’t help but smile, “I can see you aren’t one to pass a good time up. I should probably be on my way and get ready for the show. You know, I didn’t catch your name, cher?” 

The Decepticon was shocked at how calm and comfortable you were around him, after all he was a battle-hardened warrior, killer and a giant robot, yet you showed him such courtesy as if he were just another human. “Oh… Blitzwing…” he replied hesitantly, feeling almost compelled to tell you. 

“Well Blitzwing, if anyone gives you trouble at the door, cher, just tell them you’re a guest of (Y/N)” you flashed a sincere but slightly coy smile at the Decepticon before giving him a friendly wave of your hand and making your way off of the military base. 

Blitzwing stood there in silent shock as you left, leaving him burning with multiple questions. “Cher? This word is strange” Icy pondered, a servo on his chin. His faceplate spun and Random took over, “Perhaps it’s a human word for cute!” Icy presented himself once more, staring at the ticket in his servo, your invitation still standing. He could just crush the ticket and be done withy it, but there was something about you…

Night fell on New Orleans, and the city came alive with lights, and hundreds of people flocking to the streets to enjoy various events and libations. High in the sky, Blitzwing hovered in jet-mode above the outdoor venue of “The Cat’s Meow.” After a bit of convincing himself, Blitzwing found the courage to land and enter the Jazz club. The bouncer at the door was definitely not expecting a Decepticon to attempt entry to the club, but he stood his ground and sweatily asked to see a ticket. 

Usually, it would be Blitzwing’s instinct to blast the human into smithereens, but that would undoubtedly sour the mood for the evening. Instead he presented his silver ticket and spoke, “I am here upon ze request of (Y/N).” The doorman accepted the ticket hesitantly, before allowing the Decepticon entry into the club, but directing him to enter around to the outdoor section to spare the roof. 

After making his way around, Blitzwing entered the outdoor space, which was an array of various tables covered in rich red linens. The area was illuminated by various lights wrapped around trellises and trees, a wooden stage centered at the back, the musicians settling into their positions. Blitzwing looked down at the table below him, awkwardly lowering himself into a sitting position behind the table, his massive frame still towering above it. Blitzwing couldn’t help but feel foolish being here to see a human perform, and it took hours of self-convincing earlier in order to get his aft here. 

“I have no idea how I talked myself into this…” Icy grumbled, his arms crossed. “PLEASE! This is not ze craziest thing we’ve done by far!” Random cackled before going silent as the lights dimmed, leaving one blinding spotlight on center stage. 

There you were, standing in the blinding glow of the spotlight. Your hair was down, but a delicate headpiece of beaded pearls adorned your forehead. Your dress was an ebony color, with a sensual sweetheart neckline and a short hem lined with glittering beads that cascaded from the hem. The ebony color was accentuated by the sparkle of thousands of tiny sequins, which reflected the spotlight and made you shimmer. You turned towards the band members behind you and gave them a nod, cueing them to begin playing a smooth yet upbeat Jazz number, the mood set by the sound of trumpets and a piano. You slowly took hold of the microphone and began singing, your voice sultry and alluring. 

Blitzwing’s optics widened to a point where they nearly burst out of his skull, and his jaw unhinged and was wide open as he struggled to process how stunning you were. This was the same human he met at the airbase? Your voice, your lips, your legs, that dress were all enough to nearly fry his processor circuitry and drive him wild. His faceplate was spinning between all three personalities, each one absolutely shaken by everything about you. 

“She’s like nothing I’ve ever seen…” Icy gawked, short of words. 

“IT IS LIKE BEING GRACED WITH ZE PRESENCE OF AN ANGEL!” Hothead exclaimed, looking like he wanted to break something. 

Random’s glossa was hanging out of his mouth, completely drunk off of your beautiful body and hypnotic voice. 

The song continued, and you began to move around the stage, your hips moving in time with the beat. You dipped down to the ground, before slowly standing up, swishing your hips and waist as you ascended. 

This sent Blitzwing over the edge, and Random loudly whistled at you, having quickly become a complete simp. Hearing the cat call, you turned your attention to see the Decepticon at his table. Continuing your set, you smiled in his direction before pointing to him and blowing a kiss. 

 Random took over and stood up, whistling even louder in adoration and worship of you, “Keep it UP BABY!” 

The song slowly came to its final portion, albeit to Blitzwing’s dismay as he wanted this to go on forever. With a final breath, the last lyrics left your painted lips and the song concluded. The resounding sound of applause filled the club, the loudest clapping being from Blitzwing’s massive metal servos. As the rest of the club patrons applauded your performance, Blitzwing’s sharp optics spotted one human patron who wasn’t participating. 

Hothead’s face spun around, steam visibly leaving his nostrils as he stomped over to the unsuspecting patron, startling the man, “YOU’D BETTER START CLAPPING BEFORE I MAKE YOUR INSIDES YOUR OUTSIDES!” The unsuspecting critic nearly jumped out of his skin and began clapping for his life. 

As the cheers continued, audience members began tossing flowers onto the stage. Icy took note of this and began formulating a plan. 

After you had made your way back to your dressing room, there was a firm knock at the door. Out of curiosity, you opened it to see who it was, only to be pleasantly surprised to see a certain Decepticon gazing back at you. 

Blitzwing was blushing madly, especially being so close to you when you looked so beautiful. He cleared his throat, his faceplate spinning to Icy, trying to get the courage to speak to you. “Your show was… more than words than express. You are ze most talented and beautiful thing I have laid optics on. I got something for you” his voice was oddly shaky. He knelt down and revealed a massive bundle of roses and vines from behind his back, the flowers taking up a quarter of your dressing room. “I saw flowers are a sign of worship, so I brought you all ze flowers from the garden.” 

You were stunned by the gift, it being obvious that Blitzwing had removed the roses from the nearby trellises. You tried to stifle a laugh and flashed the biggest grin, “That is mighty sweet of you, cher. To think you actually came to see me and shower me with so much praise.” 

“You are a GORGEOUS LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS. I WILL BREAK DOWN MOUNTAINS FOR YOU!” Hothead expressed passionately. 

“Oh my…” you giggled, “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” You stepped closer to the massive Decepticon before you, closing the distance. “For being so sweet, I think you deserve a little something as well,” your voice was charismatic and smooth. You leaned in closer to his faceplate, and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

His faceplate spun around and around and around… for what seemed like an eternity. An excited and loud laugh escaped from Blitzwing’s mouth, Random’s optics wide and his spark beating rapidly. So many thoughts and feelings flashed through his processor that he felt he might explode, “I FEEL LIKE I’VE FLOWN TO ZE MOON AND BACK!” His optics turn back towards you and he suddenly calms himself, maybe a little worried he might frighten you. His faceplate reverts back to Icy and he clears his throat, “...ahem.. My apologies, sometimes I get carried away.” 

Your smile widened, finding his antics to be endearing. “Don’t sweat it, cher. You’re more than welcome to come to any of my shows in the future,” you spoke softly. “Now why don’t you and I get out of here. Maybe let me show you around town?”

Blitzwing was in absolute awe. You, this tiny human female stealing every one of Blitzwing’s sparks. 

Of course he took you up on your offer. 

*END*

I had WAY too much fun with this request. :3 I pray it was worth the wait!

[winebrightruby]

hello hello! question for you, hopefully not a bummer: how do you observe Mardi Gras now that you are not living right in New Orleans anymore? (I think of you every year when it rolls around!)

I cry a lot, lmao.

Tbh this year was a bit of a mess because of the single-parenting struggle until husband is back in the country, but I'll answer in terms of general intentions. I start on the night the Krewe of Muses parades, which is the Thursday before Mardi Gras (day). I offer specific hymns and offerings for the relevant deities/spirits as determined by parading krewe:

Muses on Thursday

Hermes and Morpheus on Friday

Iris and Endymion on Saturday

Bacchus (and Okeanos and Athena) on Sunday, Dimanche Gras, the start of my version of Anthesteria

Orpheus and Proteus on Monday, Lundi Gras

Rex and Zulu on Tuesday, Mardi Gras

At this point, I treat it like a semi-festival. I buy king cake and then suffer because it's Not Good. I buy hyacinths; I mix fancy drinks for offerings. In the years to come I'll have our Mardi Gras/New Orleans shrine set up, but right now toddlers render that too risky.

I promised Jo I'll take her to New Orleans next year. She's not old enough to get why it matters, but it's a point of pride for her that "mommy and me are from Louisiana, and I was borned in New Orleans". We'll go for Muses and she can catch shoes to her heart's content.

[thatbanditqueen]

@i-r-i-n-a-a you are always so lovely, he was such a beautiful gentle funny dork. Ugh. Happy monday and thanks for reading!

Louisiana Saturday Night Chapter 2

Hot Button Baby

Warning: Consensual smut, fingering, boys talking about sex and being crude.

Summary: Elvis and the guys get into Shreveport late one Friday night and he runs into Freddie. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Elvis takes her out for dinner as he hopes for something more.

Read it here

Thanks to my alpha @whositmcwhatsit for reading multiple drafts of this chapter and to all my Elvis fic friends @vintageshanny @from-memphis-with-love @shakerattlescroll @be-my-ally @missmaywemeetagain @powerofelvis @peskybedtime @lookingforrainbows @ellie-24 for helping me get through the summer and keep hope a live. xoxox

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist, and thanks for reading. Reblogs, comments feedback and corrections desired and encouraged

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