#2:23 AM local time

[doyouknowthemossinman]

i'm awake writing headcannons and fucking up my sleep schedule <3 i love college <3

[milaisreading]

5th times the charm?

Pairings: Itoshi Sae x Isagi's sister!Yn

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open. This is just a small Valentine's Day idea I had, since the day is approaching us quickly.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

Ever since he could remember, Yoichi thought of of his sister as someone who could be described as a hopeless romantic at heart. And while that was something he really admired in (Y/n), her faith in love and finding the right person, it also worried him. He loved his sister a lot, she was a kind and very caring person, so he always wanted the best for her. He mainly wanted her to have a good partner, since finding one was always one of her goals, but Yoichi noted one thing about her crush and dating history. And that was, (Y/n) always seemed to find assholes as love interests. While he doesn't remember much about (Y/n)'s pre-school and elementary school, he would sometimes hear his mom and her talk about those things in the kitchen, a random memory popping out here and there. Middle school and high school was something he does remember pretty vividly the two times she would come home crying. Sure, back then he didn't know much about these things and would try to cheer (Y/n) up, but now that he is older he is more aware of these things. That's why he took it upon himself to keep his teammates away from (Y/n). They were good football players and friends, don't get Yoichi wrong, but he couldn't imagine them with his sister.

Then, to his horror, when his career took of in Re Al, he was confronted with the harsh truth that Sae Itoshi of all people asked (Y/n) out, to which she ended up agreeing! Yoichi tried to keep his opinion at the time to himself, not wanting to offend Sae. But, once the siblings were left alone, he warned his sister about dating him.

'Don't worry. I am sure this time it will be different.' Yoichi recalled her words, and he just hopes she was right. And if she wasn't, an accidental kick of the ball into Sae's face will help him calm down.

Looking at the digital clock, (Y/n) yawned as she read the time.

"Already 23:30... and I am not even done decorating this. I shouldn't have waited till last minute." She muttered to herself, looking down at the homemade chocolate and at some of the decorative items she bought the day before. It was the night before Valentine's Day and (Y/n) was doing her absolute best for the chocolate to turn out as good as possible. She really wanted to impress Sae with it, but also see his reaction. It's something she would do ever since she was little. Her mom would tell her to always look at how a guy will react to the little gifts, and make her judgement based on that. And well, so far (Y/n) faced disappointment after disappointment.

'Eww. The card looks stupid, and pink isn't even my favorite color! I am a boy, are you stupid?!'

(Y/n) flinched as she remembered one of the first boys she liked rip her Valentine's Day card into two and throw it at her. That was disappointment #1.

'I don't like this chocolate brand. Next time get me something else.' Safe to say she never looked at disappointment #2 again. Why were elementary school boys so into brand named chocolate? (Y/n) hummed as she mixed some blue and green into the white chocolate.

'The chocolate tastes nice, I didn't know you could cook or whatever. But, you aren't my type, thanks for the chocolate, tho.' Disappointment #3 came up in middle school. (Y/n) wasn't sure why she cried that day, possibly because he was the first guy she had a serious crush on? It was a mystery to her.

'I don't like girls like you. You are way too much of a high maintenance. And besides, I found someone else. She looks more like a football players girlfriend.' Disappointment #4 came along in her final year of high school. Oliver was someone she met by chance, he wasn't her classmate or anything. Just a boy she met at a local café she met and secretly dated for a while. (Y/n) knew je was someone who liked women, a lot, but she held out hope that he might change for her. Well, she came to realize that the hope was foolish.

(Y/n) bit back her tears as she put the chocolate into the fridge, her heart pounding in fear.

'Please, please be different.' She thought, praying that the 5th time will do the trick.

Now, Sae wasn't a romantic person and never really saw the appeal in relationships or acting all lovesick for another person. In his mind football and practice were the only things that should occupy him... until he became one of those lovesick individuals. Although he tried to hide it, and failed according to Rin and Yoichi, Sae was completely in love with the older Isagi sibling. Always being more gentle and mindful of his words around (Y/n), and doing his best to show off his skills in front of her when she would watch a Re Al match. So, to nobody's surprise, Sae spent 2 weeks preparing a gift for Valentine's Day for (Y/n), something Rin wouldn't let him live down if he found out.

'Hope she likes this.' Sae thought as he finished wrapping up the plush toy he found. It was a limited edition item he saw (Y/n) eyeing for a while, so he had to be fast and get it before it was sold out.

The next day, the two met up in a nearby park to exchange the gifts and go for a stroll through Madrid later.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" The two said at the same time, presenting their gifts in front of each other.

"Huh? You got me a gift as well?" (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as her heartbeat quickened, earning a nod from Sae.

"Of course."

"But, White day is-"

"I don't care. I will get you a gift for Valentine's Day and White Day." Sae shrugged as (Y/n)'s face turned red.

"You... you shouldn't do that." She argued, but the redhead shook his head to her words.

"No. I want to."

"O-oh..." (Y/n) felt like her heart was about to explode as she handed Sae the chocolate. Neatly wrapped in a pink and white package with a few heart stickers here and there. Sae kept quiet as he inspected the box after handing (Y/n) the gift he got her. The girl felt her heart sink for a moment when he didn't say anything, already fearing the worst.

'The colors are probably wrong-' Her thoughts got interrupted as she saw Sae smile softly and unwrapped the gift.

'He... He doesn't mind the colors?!' She gulped, hugging the gift closer to her form, watching as he took a bite from the chocolate.

"It's not much and not a brand-named item, but I hope you like it." (Y/n) said timidly as Sae raised an eyebrow.

"I don't care. This chocolate is better than any store bought I ever had. Can you make more when you have time?" Sae wondered, eating more as (Y/n) eyes widened in surprise.

"Y-you like it?! You want me to make more?" She asked, face getting redder as her heart was close to burst out of her chest.

"Of course. You made it. Why wouldn't I like it? I love it, actually." Sae smiled at the girl. There was a silence for a moment and (Y/n) felt a few tears escape her eyes, which caused Sae to panic and move closer to see what the issue was.

"Are you alright? I am sorry. Did I say something wrong?-"

"I love you." (Y/n) sobbed out, hugging Sae tightly. The player was taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered and hugged her back as a small smile was formed on his face.

"Love you, too."

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 20: Academy Era Edition

Please note that some Academy Era info is dispersed throughout the other parts as well; I just wanted to make one dedicated to these nerds. I am not repeating stuff from other parts (purposefully, there may be some accidents, but I'm trying not to repeat things like Koschei teaching Theta hypnosis or like the hyperball team) or including some basic info I think are decently well known (like Torvic or the Gallifrey Academy Hot Five). ;)

The Master's real name is 32 letters long.

As students, Theta and Koschei enjoyed building time flow analogues to mess with each others experiments.

Koschei once gave Susan a toy which was actually a communication node that he could use to find the Doctor and Susan if they ever left Gallifrey.

Theta and Koschei also used to sneak out of the Academy to drink with Shobogans. On one such occasion, Koschei picked a fight with six drunk Shobogans.

Theta's name day and Otherstide are on the same day.

Koschei often hypnotized people as a joke. He was never punished for it.

Drax had a home-made skimmer that he would often use to go to his House rather than stay in the Academy dormitories. He'd also give Jelpax rides home because they lived close by.

Koschei was in charge of organizing the end-of-term parties, but the Eighth Doctor remembers that they weren't very good.

While at the Academy, Theta and Koschei traveled to Gallifrey's past in search of Valdemar, an ancient entity and Old One, but they found nothing of Old Ones. Theta was horrified by Valdemar's power while Koschei was fascinated.

When Vansell broke his leg while climbing Mount Cadon, Theta created a localized time bubble with a sonic wrench and two lengths of twine. This accelerated the healing process, and it was healed in two minutes.

Koschei and Theta also once traveled to Machasma and used sonic agitation to get out of a tight spot.

Theta Sigma came fourth place in the Time Lord Academy Sprint Championship.

Millennia had a natural gift for temporal engineering, and Theta believed she would one day make great intellectual achievements.

Tebediatroculozan attended the Academy at the same time as the Deca. He was incredibly clever but also envious of the Doctor for the adventures he had. The Eighth Doctor helped him move past this jealousy.

When Koschei stared into the Untempered Schism, he noted with much contempt that the Time Lords who had taken him there all refused to look at it themselves.

Mortimus is likely about 50 years younger than Theta Sigma.

The Second Doctor recalled that Koschei enjoyed being scared of the dark too much.

The Toymaker had Theta play Capture the Flag and thought that Theta had cheated.

When the Toymaker was using Rallon's body, Rallon had enough influence over his personality that the Toymaker had a sense of "good and evil." When the Toymaker went against the Fourteenth Doctor, he was no longer using Rallon's body, so this was not the case.

Theta was Borusa's teacher's pet, and Borusa favored him over other students. Later on, the Doctor would believe this was why the Master was bitter towards him.

In fact, an unproduced story's original script originally had the Doctor’s grandfather be named Borusa, but it was later changed to Pandak.

While at the Academy, Koschei befriended Salyavin and manipulated him to gain access to the restricted libraries. He wanted to steal The Worshipful and Ancient Law of Gallifrey but could not find it, and Salyavin took the blame for his wrongdoing.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

[xanderisbraindead]

I see people that are tryna get into emo and scene fashion make posts ab like needing help finding clothes or like styling their hair n the liek so I’m here to help. Who am I? Nobody but im like scenemo and very happy to help. Im gonna make a resource masterlist, starting with this post

It’s important to note that if you have the hair, anything you wear will look emo. Emo teens would really just wear just some normal clothing and it fucked! Keep that in mind

How do I find emo/scene clothes?

🇺🇸🇬🇧Check resale sites like depop, ebay, mercari, poshmark (mercari is not available in the uk). You CANNOT build a wardrobe overnight. You just cant. Be patient and just keep checking, I promise you will find something. Heres some things I’ve personally bought or found on these sites and the price usd just for reference (without shipping)// Beetlejuice striped ht skinnies $16.49// We the kings shirt $5.50// All time low shirt $5.50//Red plaid ht skinnies $10.50// Famous star and stripe shirt $5-10// Secondhand serenade shirt $10// A lot of fellow scene and emo ppl resell on these sites!! (Trashmob has a depop for example, so does oliver sykes???)

2-Thrifting. Ik you’re probably tired of hearing it bc duh but… =) Try some local thrifts, big companies either suck, are expensive or both. I’d buy my skinnies from here. Reminder that they don’t have to be black!! You can style black, white, blue, any color of jean. Even styles like flair or bootcut jeans.

🇺🇸HT REPLAY. NOBODY TALKS AB THIS. Hot topic has a thredup, they sell preloved clothing and its constantly updated. Its very discounted. For example a shirt that was initially $25 usd would be sold for $11-9 usd. This is as far as ik only in the us??

Diy, obv. Look at those. Aren’t they cool looking? Not being able to afford band merch doesn’t make you any less of a fan than ppl with huge collections, remember that.

🇺🇸🇬🇧Dont be afraid to check normal stores like target, tk maxx, and walmart, you’ll be surprised. Target has cute character jackets if you can fit kids sizes and walmart made that skeleton sweater vest they gotta have more up their sleeves.

🇺🇸Merchnow.com. They have HEAVENLY old band merch and posters. Like ptv, chiodos, sws, tdwp, coheed and cambria, before today, texas in july, even like icp. this might be a us only thing? If someone could check for me ilys

(Added on Nov 8 23)

🇬🇧Grindstore.com they’re like merchnow kinda, heavenly band merch

(Added April 29 24)

🇺🇸🇬🇧 Childrens clothes if you can fit into them a lot of childrens clothing are very good for a scene look

This is all I have for now, but if i come up with anything else I’ll definitely update this!!

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me 🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book ���Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - age gap,, i think thats all

all of the songs and celebrities mentioned in here are from the time periods this was written if you are confused🩷

Chapter 1

It was 1956. I was living with my family at the Bergstrom Air Force Base in Austin, Texas, where my father, then Captain, Joseph Paul y/ln, a career officer, was stationed. He came home late for dinner one evening and handed me a record album.

“I don’t know what this Matt guy is all about,” he said, “but he must be something special. I stood in line with half the Air Force at the PX to get this for you; everybody wants it.”

I put the record on the hi-fi and heard the rocking music of “Blue Suede Shoes.” The album was titled Matt Sturniolo. It was his first.

Like almost every other kid in America, I liked Matt but not as fanatically as many of my girl friends at Del Valley Junior High. They all had Matt T-shirts and Matt hats and Matt socks and even lipstick in colors with names like Hound Dog Orange and Heartbreak Pink referencing names of his songs. Matt was everywhere, on bubblegum cards and Bermuda shorts, on diaries and wallets and pictures that glowed in the dark. The boys at school began trying to look like him, with their fluffy hair and turned up collars.

One girl was so crazy about him that she was running his local fan club. She said I could join for twenty-five cents, the price of a book she’d ordered for me by mail. When I received it, I was shocked to see a picture of Matt signing the bare chests of a couple of girls, at that time an unheard-of act.

Then I saw him on television on Jimmy and Tommy Dorsey’s Stage Show. He was sexy and handsome, with his deep brooding eyes, pouty lips, and crooked smile. He strutted out to the microphone, spread his legs, leaned back, and strummed his guitar. Then he began singing with such confidence, moving his body with unbridled sexuality. Despite myself, I was attracted.

Some members of his adult audience were less enthusiastic. Soon his performances were labeled obscene. My mother stated emphatically that he was “a bad influence for teenage girls. He arouses things in them that shouldn’t be aroused. If there’s ever a mothers’ march against Matt Sturniolo, I’ll be the first in line.”

But I’d heard that despite all of his stage antics and lustful, tough-guy looks, Matt came from a strict Southern Christian background. He was a country boy who didn’t smoke or drink, who loved and honored his parents, and who addressed all adults as “sir” or “ma’am.”

I was an Air Force child, a shy, pretty little girl, unhappily accustomed to moving from base to base every two or three years. By the time I was eleven, I had lived in six different cities and, fearful of not being accepted, I either kept to myself or waited for someone to befriend me. I found it especially difficult entering a new school in the middle of the year, when cliques had already been established and newcomers were considered outsiders.

Small and petite, with long y/hc hair, y/ec eyes, and an upturned nose, I was always stared at by the other students. At first girls would see me as a rival, afraid I’d take their boyfriends away. I seemed to feel more comfortable with boys—and they were usually friendlier.

People always said I was the prettiest girl in school, but I never felt that way. I was skinny, practically scrawny, and even if I was as cute, as people said, I wanted to have more than just good looks. Only with my family did I really feel totally protected and loved. Close and supportive, they provided my stability.

A photographer’s model before her marriage, my mother was totally devoted to her family. As the oldest, it was my responsibility to help her with the kids. After me, there were Don, four years younger, and Michelle, my only sister, who was five years younger than Don. Jeff and the twins, Tim and Tom, hadn’t yet been born.

My mother was too shy to talk about the facts of life, so my sex education came in school, when I was in the sixth grade. Some kids were passing around a book that looked like the Bible from the outside, but when you opened it, there were pictures of men making love to women, and women making love to each other.

My body was changing and stirring with new feelings. I’d gotten looks from boys at school, and once a picture of me in a tight turtleneck sweater was stolen from the school bulletin board. Yet I was still a child, embarrassed about my own sexuality. I fantasized endlessly about French-kissing, but when my friends who hung around our house played spin the bottle, it would take me half an hour to let a boy kiss my pursed lips.

My strong, handsome father was the center of our world. He was a hard worker who had earned his degree in Business Administration at University of Texas. At home he ran a tight ship. He was a firm believer in discipline and responsibility, and he and I frequently knocked heads. When I became a cheerleader at thirteen, it was all I could do to convince him to let me go to out-of-town games. Other times no amount of crying, pleading, or appealing to my mother would change his mind. When he laid down the law, that was that.

I managed to get around him occasionally. When he refused to let me wear a tight skirt, I joined the Girl Scouts specifically so I could wear their tight uniform.

My parents were survivors. Although they often had to struggle financially, we children were the last to feel it. When I was a little girl my mother sewed pretty tablecloths to cover the orange crates that we used as end tables. Rather than do without, we made the best of what we had.

Dinner was strictly group participation: Mother cooked, one of us set the table, and the rest cleaned up. Nobody got away with anything, but we were very supportive of one another. I felt fortunate to have a close-knit family.

Going through old albums of family photographs showing my parents when they were young fascinated me. I was curious about the past. World War II intrigued me, especially since my father had fought with the Marines on Okinawa. He looked handsome in his uniform—you could tell he was posing for my mother—but somehow his smile looked out of place, especially when you realized where he was. When I read the note on the back of the picture about how much he missed my mother, my eyes filled with tears.

While rummaging through the family keepsakes I came upon a small wooden box. Inside was a carefully folded American flag, the kind that I knew was given to servicemen’s widows. Also inside the box was a picture of my mother with her arm around a strange man and, sitting on her lap, an infant. On the back of the photo was inscribed “Mommy, Daddy, y/n.” I had discovered a family secret.

Feeling betrayed, I ran to phone my mother, who was at a party nearby. Within minutes I was in her arms, crying as she calmed me and explained that when I was six months old, my real father, Lieutenant James Wagner, a handsome Navy pilot, had been killed in a plane crash while returning home on leave. Two and a half years later, she married Paul y/ln, who adopted me and had always loved me as his own.

Mother suggested I keep my discovery from the other children. She felt it would endanger our family closeness, though when it did become known, it had no effect on our feelings for one another. She gave me a gold locket that my father had given her. I cherished that locket and wore it for years and fantasized that my father died a great hero. In times of emotional pain and loneliness he would become my guardian angel.

By the end of the year, I’d been nominated to run for Queen of Del Valley Junior High. This was my first taste of politics and competition and it was especially trying because I was running against Millie Collins, my best friend.

We each had a campaign manager introducing us as we went from house to house knocking on doors. My manager tried to talk each person into voting for me and donating a penny or more per vote to a school fund. The nominee who collected the most money won. I was sure that this competition would jeopardize my friendship with Millie, which was more important to me than winning. I considered quitting but felt I couldn’t let my parents or my supporters down. While my mother was out looking for a dress for me to wear to the coronation, my dad kept reminding me to memorize an acceptance speech. I kept putting it off, certain I was going to lose.

It was the last day of the campaign, and a rumor began circulating that Millie’s grandparents had put in a hundred-dollar bill for their vote. My parents were disappointed; there was no way that they could afford to match that much money and even if they could, they objected on principle.

The night they announced the winner, I was all dressed up in a new turquoise blue, strapless tulle net formal that itched so badly I couldn’t wait to take it off. I sat beside Millie on the dais in the large school auditorium. I could see my parents with happy, confident looks on their faces though I was sure they were going to be disheartened. Then the principal walked up to the podium.

“And now,” she said, hesitating to heighten the suspense, “is the moment you’ve all been waiting for  . . . the culmination of a month of campaigning by our two lovely contestants: y/n y/ln  . . .” All eyes turned toward me. I blushed and glanced at Millie. “ . . . and Millie Collins.” Our eyes locked for a brief, tense moment.

“The new Queen of Del Valley Junior High is  . . .” A drum roll sounded. “ . . . y/n y/ln.”

The audience applauded wildly. I was in shock. Called up to the stage to give my speech, I had none. Sure that I was going to lose, I’d never even bothered to write one. I walked, trembling, to the podium, then looked out at the crowded auditorium. All I could see was my father’s face, growing more disappointed as he realized I had nothing to say. When I finally spoke, it was to apologize.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m not prepared to give a speech, as I did not expect to win. But thank you very much for voting for me. I’ll do my very best.” And then, looking at my father, I added, “I’m sorry, Dad.”

I was surprised as the audience graciously applauded, but I still had to face my father and hear him say, “I told you so.”

Being elected Queen was a bittersweet victory, because the closeness that Millie and I once shared was restrained. Still, to me that crown symbolized a wonderful, unfamiliar feeling: acceptance.

My newfound tranquility ended abruptly when my father announced that he was being transferred to Wiesbaden, West Germany.

I was crushed. Germany was the other side of the world. All my fears returned. My first thought was, What am I going to do about my friends? I turned to my mother, who was sympathetic and reminded me that we were in the Air Force and moving was an unavoidable part of our lives.

I finished junior high school, my mother gave birth to baby Jeff, and we said our goodbyes to neighbors and good friends. Everyone promised to write or call, but remembering past promises I knew better. My friend Stephanie jokingly told me that Matt Sturniolo was stationed in Bad Neuheim, West Germany. “Do you believe it? You’re going to be in the same country as Matt Sturniolo,” she said. We looked at a map and found that Bad Neuheim was close to Wiesbaden. I said back, “I’m going over there to meet Matt.” We both laughed, hugged each other, and said goodbye.

West Germany

The fifteen-hour flight to West Germany seemed interminable, but finally we arrived in the beautiful old city of Wiesbaden, headquarters of the U.S. Air Force in Europe. There we checked into the Helene Hotel, a massive and venerable building on the main thoroughfare. After three months, hotel living became too expensive and we began looking for a place to rent.

We felt lucky to find a large apartment in a vintage building constructed long before World War I. Soon after we moved in, we noticed that all the other apartments were rented to single girls. These Fräuleins walked around all day long in robes and negligees, and at night they were dressed to kill. Once we learned a little German, we realized that, although the pension was very discreet, we were living in a brothel.

Moving was out of the question—housing was too scarce—but the location did little to help me to adjust. Not only was I isolated from other American families, but there was the language barrier. I was accustomed to changing schools frequently, but a foreign country posed altogether new problems, principally that I couldn’t share my thoughts. I began to feel that my life had stopped dead in its tracks.

September came and with it, school. Once again I was the new girl. I was no longer popular and secure as I’d been at Del.

There was a place called the Eagles Club, where American service families went for dinner and entertainment. It was within walking distance of the pension and soon proved an important discovery for me. Every day after school, I’d go to the snack bar there and listen to the jukebox and write letters to my friends back home in Austin, telling them how much I missed them. Drowning in tears, I’d spend my weekly allowance playing the songs that were very popular back in the States—Frankie Avalon’s “Venus” and the Everly Brothers’ “All I Have to Do Is Dream.”

One warm summer afternoon, I was sitting with my brother Don when I noticed a handsome man in his twenties staring at me. I’d seen him watching me before, but I’d never paid any attention to him. This time, he stood up and walked toward me. He introduced himself as Steven Wright and asked my name.

“y/n y/ln,” I said, immediately suspicious; he was much older than me.

He asked where in the States I came from, how I liked Germany, and if I liked Matt Sturniolo.

“Of course,” I said, laughing. “Who doesn’t?”

“I’m a good friend of his. My wife and I go to his house quite often. How would you like to join us one evening?”

Unprepared for such an extraordinary invitation, I grew even more skeptical and guarded. I told him I’d have to ask my parents. Over the course of the next two weeks, Steven met my parents and my father checked out his credentials. Steven was also in the Air Force and it turned out that my father knew his commanding officer. That seemed to break the ice between them. Steven assured Dad that I’d be well chaperoned when we visited Matt, who lived off base in a house in Bad Nauheim.

On the appointed night I tore through my closet, trying to find an appropriate outfit. Nothing seemed dressy enough for meeting Matt Sturniolo. I settled on a navy and white sailor dress and white socks and shoes. Surveying myself in the mirror, I thought I looked cute, but being only fourteen, I didn’t think I’d make any kind of impression on Matt.

Eight o’clock finally arrived, and so did Steven Wright and his attractive wife, Carole. Anxious, I hardly spoke to either of them during the forty-five-minute drive. We entered the small town of Bad Nauheim, with its narrow cobblestone streets and plain, old-fashioned houses, and I kept looking around for what I assumed would be Matt’s huge mansion. Instead Steven pulled up to an ordinary-looking three-story house surrounded by a white picket fence.

There was a sign on the gate in German, which translated as: autographs between 7:00 and 8:00 p.m. only. Even though it was after eight o’clock, a large group of friendly German girls waited around expectantly. When I asked Steven about them, he explained that there were always large groups of fans outside the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Matt.

I followed Steven through the gate and up the short pathway to the door. We were welcomed by James Sturniolo, Matt’s father, a tall, gray-haired, attractive man, who led us down a long hallway to the living room, from which I could hear Brenda Lee on the record player, singing “Sweet Nothin’s.”

The plain, almost drab living room was filled with people, but I spotted Matt immediately. He was handsomer than he appeared in films, younger and more vulnerable-looking with his haircut. He was in civilian clothes, a bright red sweater and tan slacks, and he was sitting with one leg swung over the arm of a large overstuffed chair, with a cigar dangling from his lips.

As Steven led me over to him, Matt stood up and smiled. “Well,” he said. “What have we here?”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I just kept staring at him.

“Matt,” Steven said, “this is y/n y/ln. The girl I told you about.”

We shook hands and he said, “Hi, I’m Matt Sturniolo,” but then there was a silence between us until Matt asked me to sit down beside him, and Steven drifted off.

“So,” Matt said. “Do you go to school?”

“Yes.”

“What are you, about a junior or senior in high school?”

I blushed and said nothing, not willing to reveal that I was only in the ninth grade.

“Well,” he persisted.

“Ninth.”

Matt looked confused. “Ninth what?”

“Grade,” I whispered.

“Ninth grade,” he said and started laughing. “Why, you’re just a baby.”

“Thanks,” I said curtly. Not even Matt Sturniolo had the right to say that to me.

“Well. Seems the little girl has spunk,” he said, laughing again, amused by my response. He gave me that charming smile of his, and all my resentment just melted away.

We made small talk for a while longer. Then Matt got up and walked over to the piano and sat down. The room suddenly grew silent. Everyone’s eyes were focused on him as he began to entertain us.

He sang “Rags to Riches” and “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” and then with his friends singing harmony, “End of the Rainbow.” He also did a Jerry Lee Lewis impersonation, pounding the keys so hard that a glass of water he’d set on the piano began sliding off. When Matt caught it without missing a beat of the song, everyone laughed and applauded except me. I was nervous. I glanced around the room and saw an intimidating life-size poster of a half-nude model on the wall. She was the last person I wanted to see, with her fulsome body, pouting lips, and wild mane of tousled hair. Imagining Matt’s taste in women, I felt very young and out of place.

I glanced up and saw Matt trying to get my attention. I noticed that the less response I showed, the more he began singing just for me. I couldn’t believe that Matt Sturniolo was trying to impress me.

Later, he asked me to come into the kitchen, where he introduced me to his grandmother, Minnie Mae Sturniolo, who stood by the stove, frying a huge pan of bacon. As we sat down at the table, I told Matt I wasn’t hungry. Actually I was too nervous to eat.

“You’re the first girl I’ve met from the States in a long time,” Matt said, as he began devouring the first of five gigantic bacon sandwiches, each one smothered with mustard. “Who are the kids listening to?”

I laughed. “Are you kidding?” I said. “Everyone listens to you.”

Matt seemed unconvinced. He asked me a lot of questions about Fabian and Ricky Nelson. He told me he was worried about how his fans would accept him when he returned to the States. Since he’d been away, he hadn’t made any public appearances or movies, although he’d had five hit singles, all recorded before he’d left.

It felt like we’d just begun talking when Steven came in and pointed to his watch. I had dreaded that moment; the evening had gone so fast. It seemed I had just arrived and now I was being hurried away. Matt and I had just started to get to know each other. I felt like Cinderella, knowing that when my curfew came, all this magic would end. I was surprised when Matt asked Steven if I could possibly stay longer. When Steven explained the agreement with my father, Matt casually suggested that maybe I could come by again. Though I wanted to more than anything in the world, I didn’t really believe it would happen.

a/n - thoughts on this story so far? all the fashion and technology and things is still based in the time period its set in but i promise it gets better as the story goes on! i know the age gap is crazy but back in the day it was normal and its the age gap in Priscilla’s book so i just stuck with it. I in no way support this at all🎀

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

[journeytothewestresearch]

I've heard the idea that Monkey is 7 times immortal thrown around a couple times, but my count has only ever gone up to 4 (the peaches, the pills, the wine, and his daoist studies). How immortal IS Monkey?

(Note 09-07-2024: I am going to edit this for more clarity. It will differ from previously shared versions.)

I count eight categories of immortality.

In place of using “layer” or “level,” I’m choosing to designate his various immortalities as “categories.” This is because a new layer of divine longevity or durability would surely be added for each immortal peach, elixir pill, or cup/jug of heavenly wine consumed. Hence, eating multiple peaches would be one category, eating multiple elixir pills would be one category, and so on and so forth.

There are two sets. The first are achieved before or during the journey:

1) Daoist Longevity Arts - Ch. 2

I discuss the exact methods here.

A photomanipulation by me.

2) Erasing Allotted Lifespan - Ch. 3

[After Monkey is summoned to hell in his sleep and thereafter threatens to beat the Judges of Hell for their mistake] The Ten Kings immediately had the judge in charge of the records bring out his [Sun's] books for examination. The judge, who did not dare tarry, hastened into a side room and brought out five or six books of documents and the ledgers on the tens species of living beings ... He [Monkey] had, therefore, a separate ledger, which Wukong examined himself.  Under the heading "Soul 1350" he found the name Sun Wukong recorded, with the description: "Heaven-born Stone Monkey. Age: three hundred and forty-two years. A good end." Wukong said, "I really don't remember my age. All I want is to erase my name. Bring me a brush." The judge hurriedly fetched the brush and soaked it in heavy ink. Wukong took the ledger on monkeys and crossed out all the names he could find in it. Throwing down the ledger, he said, "That ends the account! That ends the account! Now I'm truly not your subject" (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 140-141).

A print from the Japanese children book Son Goku (1939).

3) Immortal Peaches - Ch. 5

[After being appointed the guardian of the Queen Mother of the West's immortal peach groves] The Great Sage ... asked the local spirit, "How many trees are there?" "There are three thousand six hundred," said the local spirit. "In the front are one thousand two hundred trees with little flowers and small fruits. These ripen once every three thousand years, and after one taste of them a man will become an immortal enlightened in the Way, with healthy limbs and a lightweight body. In the middle are one thousand two hundred trees of layered flowers and sweet fruits. They ripen once every six thousand years. If a man eats them, he will ascend to Heaven with the mist and never grow old. At the back are one thousand two hundred trees with fruits of purple veins and pale yellow pits. These ripen once every nine thousand years and, if eaten, will make a man's age equal to that of Heaven and Earth, the sun and the moon..." One day he [Monkey] saw that more than half of the peaches on the branches of the older trees had ripened, and he wanted very much to eat one and sample its novel taste. Closely followed, however, by the local spirit of the garden, the stewards, and the divine attendants of the Equal to Heaven Residence, he found it inconvenient to do so. He therefore devised a plan on the spur of the moment and said to them, "Why don't you all wait for me outside and let me rest a while in this arbor?" The various immortals withdrew accordingly. That Monkey King then took off his cap and robe and climbed up into a big tree. He selected the large peaches that were thoroughly ripened and, plucking many of them, ate to his heart's content right on the branches. Only after he had his fill did he jump down from the tree. Pinning back his cap and donning his robe, he called for his train of followers to return to the residence. After two or three days, he used the same device to steal peaches to gratify himself once again One day the Lady Queen Mother decided to open wide her treasure chamber and to give a banquet for the Grand Festival of Immortal Peaches, which was to be held in the Palace of the Jasper Pool. She ordered the various Immortal Maidens ... to go with their flower baskets to the Garden of Immortal Peaches and pick the fruits for the festival ... [After meeting with the Great Sage's ministers] The local spirit went into the garden with them; they found their way to the arbor but saw no one. Only the cap and the robe were left in the arbor, but there was no person to be seen. The Great Sage, you see, had played for a while and eaten a number of peaches. He had then changed himself into a figure only two inches high and, perching on the branch of a large tree, had fallen asleep under the cover of thick leaves (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 161-162).

A new years print found online.

4) Immortal Wine - Ch. 5

Our Great Sage could not make an end of staring at the scene [the heavenly feast set for the Immortal Peach Banquet] when he suddenly felt the overpowering aroma of wine ... standing beside the jars and leaning on the barrels, he abandoned himself to drinking. After feasting for a long, he became thoroughly drunk... [...] [After returning to Flower Fruit Mountain and meeting with his children, he says] "When I was enjoying myself this morning at the Jasper Pool, I saw many jars and jugs in the corridor full of the juices of jade [yuye qiongjiang, 玉液瓊漿; lit: "Jade liquid and jade syrup"], which you have never savored. Let me go back [to heaven] and steal a few bottles to bring down here. Just drink half a cup, and each of you will live longer without growing old" ... He took two large bottles, one under each arm, and carried two more in his hands. Reversing the direction of his cloud, he returned to the monkeys in the cave. They held their own Festival of Immortal Wine [Xianjiu hui, 仙酒會], with each one drinking a few cups" (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 165 and 167).

A screenshot from the 1986 Journey to the West TV show.

5) Immortal Elixir - Ch. 5

[After Sun Wukong drunkenly stumbles into Laozi's laboratory in the Tushita Heaven] He found no one but saw fire burning in an oven beside the hearth, and around the oven were five gourds in which finished elixir was stored. "This thing is the greatest treasure of immortals," said the Great Sage happily. "Since old Monkey has understood the Way and comprehended the mystery of the Internal's identity with the External, I have also wanted to produce some golden elixir on my own to benefit people. While I have been too busy at other times even to think about going home to enjoy myself, good fortune has met me at the door today and presented me with this! As long as Laozi is not around, I'll take a few tablets and try the taste of something new." He poured out the contents of all the gourds and ate them like fried beans (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 166).

A detail from the 1835 Japanese translation of Journey to the West.

6) Ginseng Tree Fruit - Ch. 24

In the mountain there was a Daoist Abbey called the Five Villages Abbey [Wu zhuang guan, 五莊觀]; it was the abode of an immortal whose Daoist style [name] was Master Shenyuan [Shenyuan zi, 鎮元子] and whose nickname was Lord, Equal to Earth [Shi tong jun, 世同君]. There was, moreover, a strange treasure grown in this temple, a spiritual root that was formed just after chaos had been parted and the nebula had been established prior to the division of Heave and Earth. Throughout the four great continents of the world, it could be found in only the Five Villages Abbey in the West Aparagodaniya Continent. This treasure was called grass of the reverted cinnabar [cao huan dan, 草還丹], or the ginseng fruit [renshen guo, 人參果]. It took three thousand years for the plant to bloom, another three thousand years to bear fruit, and still another three thousand years before they ripened. All in all, it would be nearly ten thousand years before they could be eaten, and even after such a long time, there would be only thirty such fruits. The shape of the fruit was exactly that of a newborn infant not yet three days old, complete with the four limbs and the five senses. If a man had the good fortune of even smelling the fruit, he would live for three hundred and sixty years; if he ate one he would reach his forty-seven thousandth year. [After Wukong learns the complicated method of harvesting the fruit] Parting the leaves and branches, he knocked three of the fruits into the sack ... The three of them [Monkey and his brothers] took the fruits and began to enjoy them (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 453 and 462-463).

Monkey holding ginseng tree fruit. Image found online.

This previous article talks about the history of this magical fruit.

Sun Wukong is not truly immortal during the journey, just long-lived and hard to kill. Immortality in Ming to Qing-era popular literature means that you can live for a long time but still die if injured badly enough. Think of it like an infinitely long candle being blown out instead of having a chance to burn for centuries or eons. For example, Investiture of the Gods (Fengshen yanyi, 封神演義, c. 1620), a sort of prequel to Journey to the West, is full of immortals killed in battle with heavenly weapons. Some even have their immortality sapped away before dying in one of many celestial traps. The biggest of these traps is the "Ten Thousand Immortal Array" (Wanxian zhen, 萬仙陣), so named because it can apparently kill myriad transcendents.

The second set of immortalities are achieved at the journey’s end once they reach the Buddha’s blessed land. These shouldn’t be lumped together with those acquired before and during the pilgrimage.

7) Divine food and tea - ch. 98

Then Buddha turned to call out: "Ananda and Kasyapa, take the four of them to the space beneath the precious tower. Give them a vegetarian meal first. After the maigre, open our treasure loft for them and select a few scrolls from each of the thirty-five divisions of our three canons, so that they may take them back to the Land of the East as a perpetual token of grace." The two Honored Ones obeyed and took the four pilgrims to the space beneath the tower, where countless rare dainties and exotic treasures were laid out in a seemingly endless spread. Those deities in charge of offerings and sacrifices began to serve a magnificent feast of divine food, tea, and fruit-viands [仙餚、仙茶、仙果] of a hundred flavors completely different from those of the mortal world. After master and disciples had bowed to give thanks to Buddha, they abandoned themselves to enjoyment (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 4, p. 349). [...] This time it was Eight Rules who was in luck and Sha Monk who had the advantage, for what the Buddhist Patriarch had provided for their complete enjoyment was nothing less than such viands as could grant them longevity and health and enable them to transform their mortal substance into immortal flesh and bones [... 壽長生，脫胎換骨之饌，儘著他受用。] (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 4, p. 350).

While the quote refers directly to Zhu and Sha, Monkey certainly benefits from the meal as well, gaining another category of immortality.

Monkey eating yummy food.

8) Buddhahood - ch. 100

Sun Wukong, when you caused great disturbance at the Celestial Palace, I had to exercise enormous dharma power to have you pressed beneath the Mountain of Five Phases. Fortunately your Heaven-sent calamity came to an end, and you embraced the Buddhist religion. I am pleased even more by the fact that you were devoted to the scourging of evil and the exaltation of good. Throughout your journey you made great merit by smelting the demons and defeating the fiends. For being faithful in the end as you were in the beginning, I hereby give you the grand promotion and appoint you the Buddha Victorious in Strife [Dou zhansheng fo, 鬥戰勝佛] (Wu & Yu, 2012, p. 381).

I'm adding this as another immortality category since as a Buddha, he is now completely free of the wheel of reincarnation.

It’s important to note that the novel ends before Monkey is able to perform any feats as a Buddha. Therefore, making claims about his subsequent abilities is outside of canon.

A lovely drawing of Sun Wukong as a Buddha by the talented @ninjahaku21art.

Source:

Wu, C., & Yu, A. C. (2012). The Journey to the West (Vols. 1-4) (Rev. ed.). Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press.

[dionysianivy]

Songs that reminds me of Dionysus ⊹ ࣪ ˖

Hello everyone🍇 This is my playlist of songs that remind me of the time I started working with Dionysus, or the songs that make me feel most connected to him. Maybe some songs don't have any Dionysian vibes, but they are important to me because they make me feel free, wild, and confident. They allow me to show my true colors and not be afraid to reveal who I really am, which is really important for my soul and for my Sag moon! >ᴗ< hope you like it♡

🌿🐆🌿🐆🌿🐆🌿🐆🌿🐆🌿🐆🌿🐆🌿🐆🌿🐆

1. My Blood - Twenty One Pilots | 3:49

2. This Charming Man - The Smiths | 2:42

3. Touch of My Hand - Britney Spears | 4:19

4. Electric Feel - MGMT | 3:49

5. Tarzan Boy - Baltimora | 3:50

6.  (Von Dutch Remix) - Charli XCX, Addison Rae, a.g. cook | 2:37

7. Phonography - Britney Spears | 3:33

8. Kill the Lights - Britney Spears | 3:59

9. Big in Japan - Alphaville | 4:45

10. Follow Me Down - 3OH!3 | 3:23

11. Affection - Between Friends | 3:55

12. Sadeness - Enigma | 4:15

13. My Prerogative - Britney Spears | 3:33

14. Karma Chameleon - Culture Club | 4:12

15. New Flesh - Current Joys | 2:47

16. Get Naked (I Got a Plan) - Britney Spears | 4:44

17. All I Need - The Frights | 2:54

18. Hotter than Hell - Dua Lipa | 3:07

19. Can’t Wait - Doja Cat | 3:55

20. Evil - Melanie Martinez | 4:06

21. Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Tears for Fears | 4:11

22. Follow Your Fire - Kodaline | 3:58

23. Hands Up - 6arelyhuman 2:14

24. Overcompensate - Twenty One Pilots | 4:16

25. Fairly Local - Twenty One Pilots | 3:27

26. Breathe on Me - Britney Spears | 3:43

27. Don’t Let Me Go - RAIGN | 3:51

28. Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye, kygo remix | 6:08

29. Little Dark Age - MGMT | 4:59

30. Metamorphosis - INTERWORLD | 2:23

31. If I Had You - Adam Lambert | 3:48

32. Break the Ice - Britney Spears | 3:16

33. Just Dance - Lady Gaga | 4:02

34. Drunk Together - Jai Waetford ft. Allday | 4:25

35. Wonderland - Natalia Kills | 3:32

36. Gimme What I Want - Miley Cyrus | 2:34

37. Night Crawling - Miley Cyrus feat. Billy Idol | 3:11

38. The Greatest - Sia | 3:33

39. National Anthem - Lana Del Rey | 3:51

40. Miami 82 (Kygo Remix) - Syn Cole | 5:42

41. Alejandro - Lady Gaga | 4:34

42. Poker Face - Lady Gaga | 3:57

43. The Business - Tiësto | 2:50

44. Brutus (Instrumental) - The Buttress | 3:13

45. I’m a Slave 4 U - Britney Spears | 3:23

46. Champagne Problems - Nick Jonas| 3:13

47. Ecstasy - SUICIDAL-IDOL | 2:00

48. Blackout Days - Phantogram | 3:47

49. Hungry Eyes - Eric Carmen | 4:10

50. What’s Love Got to Do with It - Tina Turner | 3:48

51. Touch of My Hand - Britney Spears | 4:19

52. One of Your Girls - Troye Sivan | 2:59

53. Get Back - Britney Spears | 3:46

54. In the Arms of a Stranger - Mike Posner | 3:28

55. Piece of Me - Britney Spears | 3:32

56. The Answer - Britney Spears | 3:55

57. Acknowledge Me - Doja Cat | 3:15

58. Brother Louie - Modern Talking | 3:41

59. Cheri Cheri Lady - Modern Talking | 3:45

60. At the Risk of Feeling Dumb - Between Friends | 3:25

61. Where Is My Mind? - Pixies | 3:53

62. Wildcard - Miley Cyrus | 3:14

63. Thousand Miles - Miley Cyrus | 3:51

64. Often - Doja Cat | 3:20

65. She's Like the Wind - Patrick Swayze | 3:52

66. Heavydirtysoul - Twenty One Pilots | 4:12

[revenantghost]

Kenji Muto's Twitter Posts: Part 2

Before and while Tristamp was airing, Kenji Muto made some amazing Twitter posts giving us lore and production tidbits along the way. And while I don't speak Japanese (so I'm going to have to use Google Translate for this, so take everything you read here with a grain of salt because it may be skewed by mistranslation), there was some fantastic art and really cool concepts shared, and I want to archive anything Trigun-related. If I miss anything, let me know!) It starts a little slow with stuff we already know, but there are some interesting tidbits! If anyone who knows Japanese wants to correct anything, please feel free! Now, without further ado...

Part 1

Part 2 [here]

?

12:14 AM · Jan 30, 2023

方言が南部訛りのメタファーなら、 他の方言メタファーがあっても良いんじゃない？ って事で、多彩な地方出身キャラが登場。 もちろん彼らのバックグラウンド物語も構築済み。 神は細部に宿るのだ。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

If dialect is a metaphor for a southern accent, Wouldn't it be nice to have other dialect metaphors? So, a variety of local characters appear. Of course, their background stories have also been constructed. God is in the details. #TRIGUN #トライガン

11:29 PM · Feb 5, 2023

現代社会にラディカルに切り込む、第五話。 誰の中にも憎悪は生まれる。 親や国籍は選べない。 WE ARE MONEV. #TRIGUN #トライガン

The fifth episode radically cuts into modern society. Hatred is born within everyone. You can't choose your parents or nationality. WE ARE MONEV. #TRIGUN #トライガン

11:35 PM · Feb 5, 2023

風力発電だけじゃない 上質なワムズシルクも高値で取引されている。 この惑星では、 手に入るものすべてが貴重品。 生き抜くために。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

In addition to wind power generation, high-quality Wams silk is also traded at high prices. On this planet, Everything you can get is valuable. To survive. #TRIGUN #トライガン

12:04 AM · Feb 7, 2023

当然のことながら、 他にもプラントを持てない村が多数存在する。 風力発電、 ワムズシルク以外に、 ワムズ漁で生活する村がある。 例の3人組も、 各地に点在する「漁師の村」出身の可能性が高い。 特に高値で取引されるのが、 グランドワムズ類。 #TRIGUN

As a matter of course, There are many other villages that cannot have plants. Wind-power generation, In addition to Wamsilk, There is a village where people live by fishing for worms. The example trio, It is highly likely that they came from "fishermen's villages" scattered throughout the country. The ones that are traded at particularly high prices are Grandworms. #TRIGUN

11:46 PM · Feb 12, 2023

時系列を鑑みるに、 この頃はまだ、青年だった。 なぜ髪が「青い」のか？ オキシタケヒコ氏の「裏SF考証」が世に出ることを切に願う。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

Considering the time series, At this time, he was still a young man. Why is my hair “blue”? I sincerely hope that Takehiko Okishi's ``background science fiction research'' will be released into the world. #TRIGUN #トライガン

5:11 AM · Feb 13, 2023

惑星ノーマンズランドにおける、 「ハンプバック級」の巨大砂蒸気船は合計７隻存在する。 七都市がそれぞれ一基ずつ貴重な「生体動力炉プラント」を捻出して建造。 水を沸騰させて動く原始的な蒸気機関を採用している。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

On the planet No Man's Land, There are a total of seven "Humpback class" giant sand steamships. Each of the seven cities devised and built one valuable "biological power reactor plant." It uses a primitive steam engine that runs by boiling water. #TRIGUN #トライガン

12:25 AM · Feb 15, 2023

彼は誰の味方？ どっちの味方？ 国境なき、ワムズの王。 知識でなく、智恵を求めよ。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

Whose side is he on? Which side are you on? Without Borders, King of Wams. Seek wisdom, not knowledge. #TRIGUN #トライガン

3:19 AM · Feb 22, 2023

BADでRADなヤツら。 地獄のような惑星環境もなんのその。 何事も捉え方次第では ポジティブに生きられる。 バド・ラド団の第二分隊、登場。 本隊は…？ #TRIGUN #トライガン

BAD and RAD guys. What's with the hellish planetary environment? You can live a positive life depending on how you view everything. The second squad of the Bad Lads Gang has arrived. The main force...? #TRIGUN #トライガン

11:18 PM · Feb 23, 2023

名前って不思議なもので、 改造人間ニコラスは、二つの顔を持っている。 ニコラス・D・ウルフウッド ニコラス・ザ・パニッシャー 最終的に彼はどちらを選ぶのだろう？ 脚本時の名前表記が「ニコラス」で統一されていたのは、そうゆう理由だったりする。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

Names are strange things, The modified human Nicholas has two faces. Nicholas D. Wolfwood Nicholas the Punisher Who will he choose in the end? This may be the reason why his name was written as ``Nicholas'' in the script. #TRIGUN #トライガン

12:11 AM · Feb 27, 2023

地球産の動物は惑星環境に適応できない。 SEEDS船団が目的地に到着したとき、その地で育てていくために積まれていた、無数の動植物の胚と遺伝子ストックから植物や動物を複製するためのシステム、 「クローニング・デバイス」 そこで遺伝子改良され生まれたのが、トマ。 トマってすごい。 #TRIGUN

Earth-born animals cannot adapt to the planetary environment. A system for replicating plants and animals from the countless embryos and gene stocks of plants and animals that were on board to be grown on-site when the SEEDS fleet arrived at its destination. "Cloning device" Toma was then genetically improved and born. Toma are amazing. #TRIGUN

10:09 PM · Mar 2, 2023

マフラーと仮面のようにも見えるが、 実はワムズの一種。 極めて毒性の強い、 砂ムカデ類の幼生ワムズなのだ。 寒い冬に、一匹飼ってみては如何？ #TRIGUN #トライガン

It looks like a scarf and a mask, It's actually a type of Wams. Extremely toxic, It is a larval worm of a sand centipede. Why not keep one in the cold winter? #TRIGUN #トライガン

12:06 AM · Mar 6, 2023

シナーズの銃、別名プロトタイプ（改造前）のPeace Bringer。 こちらも「幻のスケッチ」にヒントがある。 なぜ、誰が、いつ、改造したのだろう？ #TRIGUN #トライガン

Sinners' gun, also known as the prototype (before modification) Peace Bringer. There is also a hint in the ``Phantom Sketch''. Why, by whom, and when was it remodeled? #TRIGUN #トライガン

4:36 AM · Mar 10, 2023

ディスコミュニケーションや地獄のような環境で踠く姿は、 とても人間らしく、美しく、 何より”ポジティブな物語”だと考えて作っているのですが。 みたいな赤裸々トークをしたFMラジオ収録。 いつOAだろう？ #TRIGUN #トライガン

Discommunication and the appearance of struggling in a hellish environment, Very human and beautiful. Above all, I think of it as a ``positive story'' when I create it. An FM radio recording of a frank talk. When will it be OA? #TRIGUN #トライガン

12:34 AM · Mar 17, 2023

成長した彼女は、強くなりますよ。 “パニッシャー“では太刀打ちできないほどに。 軍用の身体改造ナノマシンによって作り替えられた肉体。 ロストナンバー。 あくまで今回は、前哨戦。再戦はいつか、また…。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

As she grows up, she will become stronger. To the extent that “The Punisher” can’t compete with it. A body modified by military body modification nanomachines. Lost number. This time, it's just a preliminary battle. When will there be a rematch? #TRIGUN #トライガン

12:18 AM · Mar 20, 2023

プラントの力は、空間に開く無数の穴《ゲート》がすべて担っている。 このゲートは大別すると《持ってくる力》と《持っていく力》の二種類がある。 この世ではない別の場所、 別の宇宙なのか、異なる位相なのか、異次元なのか（？）に繋がっているらしいが…。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

The power of the plant is entirely derived from the countless holes (gates) that open in space. There are two types of gates: ``Power to bring'' and ``Power to bring.'' A place other than this world, It seems that it is connected to another universe, a different phase, or a different dimension (?)... #TRIGUN #トライガン

Adding a tid-bit from @pancake-breakfast here:

So, my Japanese isn't great, but I wanted to try to clarify something on here that Google Translate isn't capturing, namely from this part: Saying that there are two types of gates and then defining them both as "Power to bring" doesn't make sense in English. Why make a distinction between the two if you're gonna define them the same way? But in the Japanese, it's not quite the same words used for both: "持ってくる力" (motte kuru chikara) vs. "持っていく力" (motte iku chikara. 力 (chikara) just means "power," so we'll set that aside for now since that part is actually consistent across both items. 持って (motte) is also consistent across both items. This means "carrying" or "holding," like you'd hold a bag or a purse or a backpack or something that you're taking around with you. The big difference is between くる (kuru) and いく (iku). These are actually the kana (phonetic) versions of two kanji characters: 来る (kuru) - to come 行く (iku) - to go That provides us with a nice little pair of opposites, and changes our literal definitions as follows: 持ってくる力 (motte kuru chikara) - Power to come carrying 持っていく力 (motte iku chikara) - Power to go carrying So... they're both kinda "power to bring" but it would be more accurate to say one brings and one removes. Or, if you're feeling dramatic, one giveth and one taketh away.

1:46 AM · Mar 20, 2023

ノーマンズランドで流通している銃は、 墜落移民船のデータベースから設計情報をサルベージされ、レプリカ制作されたものが大半。 宇宙時代の銃は、設計が判明しても再現は難しい。 乾燥、砂塵の舞う土地が多いため、 故障の少ないシンプル構造のものが好まれる傾向にある。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

The guns circulating in No Man's Land are: Most of the designs were salvaged from databases of crashed immigrant ships and were made into replicas. Even if the design of a space-age gun is known, it is difficult to recreate it. Because there are many dry and dusty lands, There is a tendency to prefer those with simple structures that are less likely to break down. #TRIGUN #トライガン

1:05 AM · Mar 21, 2023

隊長、実はうどんが大好物。 憲兵たちにも大人気、 創業100年の老舗屋台”儒来ヌードル” 大墜落後の闇市からはじまった屋台が数多く存在する、旧市街の横丁。 訪れた際は必ずチェックしたい観光スポットの一つだ。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

Captain, I actually love udon. Very popular with military police, 100-year-old long-established food stall “Yulai Noodle” This alley in the old town is home to many food stalls that started as a black market after the Big Fall. It is one of the tourist spots that you should definitely check out when you visit. #TRIGUN #トライガン

12:34 AM · Mar 22, 2023

通常種／自立種を問わず、 プラントの身体の内側では、 ”サプライゲート”が無数に動いており、細胞ひとつひとつに活動エネルギーを供給し、 本来なら生物として生存できないはずの不完全な肉体を健康に保っている…らしい。 "プラント"とは、何なのか？ #TRIGUN #トライガン

Regardless of whether it is a normal species or an independent species, Inside the plant's body, A countless number of "supply gates" are moving, supplying energy to each cell, It seems that he is keeping his imperfect body, which normally would not be able to survive as a living thing, healthy. What is a "plant"? #TRIGUN #トライガン

12:48 AM · Mar 24, 2023

「記憶世界」は”弟側”からの記憶と印象値と断片で造られている。 故に、描き方は限定的になる。 “兄”の視点や感情から見た”テスラ事件”は、もっと凄惨な内容になるだろう。 描く機会があれば…。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

The "memory world" is made of memories, impression values, and fragments from the "younger brother's side." Therefore, the way of drawing is limited. The ``Tesla Incident'' seen from the ``older brother'''s perspective and emotions would be even more gruesome. If you have a chance to draw... #TRIGUN #トライガン

12:14 AM · Mar 25, 2023

あくまでドクターの仮説だが。 体内にある“ゲート“を強く開くことで、 それを物質へ相転移させることで肉体を変形させているらしい。 今後、この謎は科学的に解明されてゆくのだろう。 なぜ”弟”のゲートだけ「黒い」のか？ #TRIGUN #トライガン

That's just the doctor's hypothesis. By strongly opening the “gate” in the body, It seems that the body is transformed by phase transitioning it into matter. This mystery will probably be solved scientifically in the future. Why is only the “younger brother” gate “black”? #TRIGUN #トライガン

11:16 PM · Mar 26, 2023

地獄のような、 惑星ノーマンズランド的現場でしたが、 最後まで生き残ったメインスタッフの皆様、プロデューサー陣、制作陣、音響チーム、宣伝チーム…など、とにかく多くの人に支えられた作品でした。 何よりも、内藤先生の支えには感謝しかない。 本当にお疲れ様でした！ #TRIGUN #トライガン

Like hell, It was a scene similar to the planet No Man's Land, This work was supported by many people, including the main staff who survived until the end, the producers, production team, sound team, advertising team, etc. Above all, I am grateful to Naito-sensei for his support. Thank you very much for your hard work! #TRIGUN #トライガン

11:18 PM · Mar 26, 2023

池田さんは”血”で、松岡さんは”砂”ですよね。 「ぶにゅー」とか「サラサラ」とか、 擬音、抽象度高めのトーク満載、 ブルーレイディスク、オーディオコメンタリーの収録。 本編同様、１回や２回聴いただけじゃ理解できない、 STAMPEDEっぽい内容となっております。 #TRIGUN #トライガン

Mr. Ikeda's name is "blood" and Mr. Matsuoka's name is "sand." "Bunyuu" or "Sarasara" Full of onomatopoeic and highly abstract talk, Includes Blu-ray disc and audio commentary. Like the main story, you can't understand it just by listening to it once or twice. The content is similar to STAMPEDE. #TRIGUN #トライガン

[blairstales]

Am Fear Liath Mor: The Big Grey Man of Ben Macdui | Scottish Folklore

The second highest peak in the British Isles rises up out of the Cairngorms in Scotland, and holds the name of Ben Macdui(or Beinn MacDuibh). Visiting it’s summit is a notoriously dangerous feat; with the sudden changes in weather taking the lives of many hikers throughout history.

There is also a ghostly fairy that has made this peak famous: Am Fear Liath Mòr.

Also known as Big Grey Man, or Ferlas Mor, this resident of Ben Macdui is most frequently reported by people feeling an eerie presence; such as by an icy sensation in the air or a chilling brush against the skin.

[“Ben Macdui and Derry Cairngorm from flanks of Beinn Mheadhoin” by Peter Hudson ]

Those who have sighted Am Fear Liath Mòr often describe him as a giant that stands over ten feet tall, with long arms and broad shoulders.

One of the most famous accounts comes from Professor J. Norman Collie. In 1891, Collie was navigating through thick mist, when he heard the telltale crunching sounds of steps following behind him…but each of those steps spanned a greater distance than his own by three or four times. Much to his growing dread, this continued until he decided to flee.

Collie’s encounter is not unique. Many climbers have reported similar experiences, including one by Dr. Kellas in 1926. He recounted seeing a figure about the same height as the summit cairn. When he asked a local living nearby about it, the old man replied without any surprise, “Oh, aye. That would have been the ferlas mohr he would have been seeing.”

[“Trig Point on summit of Ben MacDhui” by Eric Sim]

In 1943, climber Alexander Tewnion, encountered a shape emerging from the mist. Believing it to be the Big Grey Man, Tewnion fired three shots at the figure in a panic. The mysterious entity, however, remained unperturbed, prompting him to hastily retreat down the mountain.

"A strange shape loomed up, receded, came charging at me! Without hesitation I whipped out the revolver and fired three times at the figure. When it still came on I turned and hared down the path, reaching Glen Derry in a time that I have never bettered. You may ask was it really the Fear Laith Mhor? Frankly, I think it was." Evening Star, Issue 19159, 28 January 1926, Page 2: HAUNTED MOUNTAIN, A TEN-FOOT GHOST, BEN MACDHUI’S “GREY MAN.” (Quoting Alexander Tewnion from the June 1958 issue of The Scots)

One attempted explanation involves an optical illusion called Brocken Spectre. A Brocken Spectre is an optical phenomenon where an observer’s magnified shadow appears surrounded by a halo-like ring of light on a cloud or mist, typically seen from mountain peaks.

Whether one interprets the experiences of those who have encountered him as supernatural or as mere optical and auditory illusions, the stories continue.

There is one final quote from Always a Little Further by Alastar Borthwick (1939) that I want to share. In it, a man was out with a search-party, and decided to ask the local gameskeepers and stalkers what they thought of “Ferlas Mor.”

They looked at him for a few seconds before one finally stated, “We do not talk about that.”

Further Reading:

Newspaper Articles:

MOUNTAIN GHOST IN GRAMPIAN PASS: Star (Christchurch), Issue 17752, 23 January 1926, Page 8

HAUNTED MOUNTAIN, A TEN-FOOT GHOST, BEN MACDHUI’S “GREY MAN.” Evening Star, Issue 19159, 28 January 1926, Page 2

Books:

Encyclopedia of Beasts and Monsters in Myth, Legend and Folklore  by Bane, Theresa (2016)

Scottish folklore by Lamont-Brown, Raymond, (1939)

Always a Little Further by Alastar Borthwick (1939)

A–Z of ghosts and supernatural by Knight, Jan (1980)

Historic Audio Recordings

(link) Track ID: 33273 | Date: 1973 | Title: The Grey Man of Ben Macdui | Language: English

(link) Track ID: 33273 | Date: 1973 | Title: Prògram Choinnich | Language: Gaelic

[srldesigns6277]

On August 2nd, Louis' set at Arsenal Sound Festival will occur from 11:20pm to 12:40am local time and will be a longer set with potential additional songs.

Times of the show:

BST - 10:20/22:20

CEST - 11:20/23:20 Local Time

EST - 5:20/17:20

Brazil/Argentina - 6:20/18:20

CET - 4:20/16:20

PST - 2:20/14:20

IST - 2:50/2:50am 8/3

AEST - 7:20/7:20 am 8/3

[doyouknowthemossinman]

i have four google docs, translate, genius lyrics, two ao3 tabs, three tumblr tabs, youtube, and spotify pulled up and i'm using ALL of them to write two fics at once, pretty much. i am Living

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

to ashes, development

Clint Barton x F!Reader

To Ashes, Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Summary: a development on a mission means it's time to move on.

Warnings: angst, fluff, canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 2,313

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prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 -31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35

Days Since the Decimation: Three Years, Eighty-Five Days

“Holy shit, you got any idea how fuckin’ hard I am right now?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Oh, gross.”

Clint frowned.

“What? It’s seedy as hell,” you waved a hand. “You take me to the worst places.”

You swore, you could actually see him roll his eyes from the other side of the building. “Not exactly poetic, are they?”

The two of you were on top of an old disused warehouse in Harringay, listening with distaste as the men inside discussed their, ugh, merchandise. What was it with men and guns?

The weapons ring you’d fought in Holland Park was still at large, and Clint had spent the last two weeks tracking them down again. Honestly it was a testament to them that it had taken him this long, even without his old SHIELD connections. Whoever they were, they weren’t street level thugs.

…It made you feel the tiniest bit better about them getting the better of you in the park.

Clint had scrubbed through the local police files for any clues as to where they were setting up house. Between that and his own reconnaissance, he’d managed to track one of their prominent dealers to right under your feet.

“You still clear on the plan?”

Nodding, you unhooked the safety hood of your holster. “Yeah. Yeah, I got it.”

“Y/N…”

You looked up with a raised brow, fixing him with a pointed look. “Are you really about to lecture me about not taking revenge?”

Clint met your eye with an almost exasperated expression. “Point taken.”

“You ready for this?”

“That’s my line.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” you smirked, stretching out a kink in your neck. “Let’s go to work.”

***

You were really getting tired of these guys.

That’s the only thought that came to you as you rolled behind the crates to your left, gun still in your hand. You came to a kneel, your back meeting the wood with a dull thump. They were too prepared, to ready for the two of you.

This wasn’t supposed to end in a shootout. This was supposed to be a quick job, and yet… how did they know about the two of you? They’d mentioned a boss in the park, someone who had guessed you’d been Clint’s back up, but still… they knew you were coming. Not well enough to lay a proper trap, to ambush you before you got inside, but well enough to be ready.

You ducked lower with a curse as wood shattered above you, large splinters raining down on top of you. Thankful for the hood that kept them out of your hair, you exhaled and turned to fire two shots back around the corner. One shot went wide, but you smiled grimly as the second bullet buried itself in a man’s shoulder. He cursed in a heavy Eastern European accent as you ducked back behind the crate.

“Did you have a plan B for tonight, or are we winging this?” you said into your comms. You heard a cry go up among those shooting at you, followed by shouts of confusion and a few wild shots. You winced despite yourself for a second, waiting for a response in your ear to assure you that they’d missed.

“I’m working on one,” Clint replied gruffly, and you released a small, relieved breath despite your faith in him.

“So… winging it, it is then,” you sighed wearily, setting a new magazine into your handgun and adjusting your hold on the grip. “You know, I kinda hate being the one to draw their fire.”

“I’ll make note of it for next time,” he replied dryly, and another gurgling cry went up among the men between the two of you as Clint shot back out of the shadows long enough to take one of them down. He sliced up two – the one you’d wounded and the man closest to him. “Don’t do anything stupid, alright? We’ve got this under control.”

“Do we?”

“You doubt me?”

“I—”

“Fuck this!” shouted one of them – a burly brunette with a greying beard and tattoos scattered over his biceps. “Get one of the pushka out here and end this!”

“Clint—” you said warningly, stealing a glance over the crates.

“Don’t panic,” he warned, and you swore you caught the glimpse of silver in a brief shift of the light to let you know exactly where he was. “You’re not their biggest problem right now.”

“Clint—”

A deafening blast sounded and you fell forward, hands flying automatically to your ears. The crate to your left exploded – as did the wall in front of you, burst apart in a wave of electric blue energy.

“Holy—”

“Y/N!”

“I’m fine, just—”

“Forget the bitch! Get the Ronin!”

You scrambled away from where you’d hidden, throwing yourself behind an old forklift. Too late, you realized you’d left your gun behind, having dropped it when your hands had flown to your ears. Swearing to yourself, you winced as another blast fired. The building itself groaned as they blew another hole in a wall.

“What the hell is that thing?!”

“Just get outta here, Y/N! I’ll distract—”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Barton!”

“Just go!” he barked back. “Now!”

“Goddamn it!” you growled, standing as you heard the men shout that they’d spotted the Ronin above them. You saw the gun – a bazooka-like cannon – turn upward, point directly at the shadowy figure above. “Stubborn-ass-son-of-a—”

The blaster fired, and you swept your arm upward in the same moment. A shield appeared seconds before the energy wave could hit Clint, knocking him to the side. The energy wave just barely glanced off the shield before blowing a hole in the roof and sending debris collapsing down on the men below.

“What are you—?”

“Take the moment, Clint; you can yell at me later!” you spat back through gritted teeth, sprinting towards the group still shielding themselves from falling bricks and timber. “Get out! I’m right behind you!”

Pulling the knife from the back of your belt, you turned it in your grip and plunged it into the hand of the man closest to the crate they’d pulled the pushka from, ignoring the way he screamed. You released it, instead grabbing the first weapon you could from the crate – thankfully, a much smaller hand-gun style weapon – and kept running. A few men managed to get off a few shots before you were clear, and you winced as you felt a bullet tear through your sleeve to graze your forearm.

Feet pounding too loud on the pavement, you made it quickly to an alleyway across the street, tucking your prize under your injured arm as you grabbed hold of the rung of a fire escape ladder with your other arm and swung yourself upwards. You could hear the building behind you continue to collapse as you climbed the ladder, and you winced as a hand gripped yours as you reached the top.

“Are you insane?”

“Are you?” you shot back breathlessly as Clint pulled you up onto the roof beside him. “What the hell kind of plan was that? You were gonna let them shoot you with that thing?”

“I’m faster than I look, Y/N,” he pointed out sourly. “And now they know—”

“They don’t know shit,” you argued. “There’s no way they could see the difference between that shield and whatever the hell they were shooting at us with.”

“It was still really stupid, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome.”

Clint gave you a look that somehow managed to look grateful and exasperated all at once.

“Oh, and I totally get MVP this mission.”

“Is that a thing?” he replied dryly.

“It is now,” you said proudly, finally managing to catch your breath. Ignoring the pain throbbing in your arm, you held out the gun you’d stolen. “Ta-freakin’-da, Barton.”

***

“Lat—”

“What?”

Clint repeated himself louder, but his voice was still muffled by the wood of the door and the spray of the shower.

“What?”

You heard the shower door open and a few dull sounds before the bathroom door in front of you opened. Water dripped over Clint’s bare torso and soaked his hair, one hand clutching the towel slung around his waist. You watched him hesitate as he met your gaze, watched the adam’s apple in his throat bob. “Latveria.”

“Lat– Latveria?”

“This is starting to feel dangerously like a bit,” Clint said dryly, stepping back into the shower stall. You felt heat rise in your face as he closed the door and the towel was thrown up over the top of it. You stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment before closing the lid of the toilet and perching on the edge of it. “That’s where the weapons are being made.”

“And they’ve made it all the way out here?” you replied, swallowing as you tried to pointedly avoid staring at the shower. The stall was made of textured, frosted glass, and while it granted Clint modesty, you could still just make out his silhouette against the screen. His hands rose to scrub through his hair, his profile turned just barely away from you.

“They’re global,” Clint told you, raising his voice over the spray. “I heard reports of them turning up in New York back before… Fury had someone else working on it.”

“And we just happened to stumble onto them in a park in London?”

Clint’s hands lingered at the back of his neck. “They’ve been making bigger waves lately. Guess she’s been getting a little cockier since the Decimation wiped out half the authorities that could work their case.”

“‘She’?”

Clint’s hands moved down his chest to his stomach, and you lowered your gaze to the floor, face burning. Your thighs pressed together despite yourself. You knew your voice had broken slightly as you’d spoken that one word.

“Lucia von Bardas.”

The water shut off, and you straightened slightly, your hands threaded together in your lap. The towel disappeared into the stall. “Should I recognize the name?”

“Only if you’re trying to be familiar with Eastern European politics,” Clint told you, the shower stall opening after a moment. “She’s a pretty big name in Latverian political parties. She’s got interests in most of the big exporters coming out of that place, including Von Doom Industries. There’s been rumors of her dealing in some… less than legal businesses for a while now. Guess now we’ve actually got some proof.”

Clint stepped out; the towel tucked securely around his waist once more. He seemed to be avoiding your eye, wiping down the foggy mirror with his palm.

“And?”

“And what?”

“We’re going to take her out, right?”

You stood up, and Clint met your eye in the mirror. He sighed.

“That expression tells me you’ve already decided on the answer for us.”

***

“I’m starting to miss Stark’s money.” Clint sighed, settling back into the seat beside you.

“You’re the one who books these oh-so-deluxe travel arrangements,” you pointed out, attempting to find a comfortable position against the firm back of the bus seat. “You’d think with your super-ninja-spy-magic you’d be able to get us a fancier ride.”

“I’m not a ninja,” he told you patiently. “Or magic.”

“You’re a little magic.”

Clint shook his head with a smile; you were sure there was faint color on his cheeks as he dropped his head back against the headrest.

“So, how long exactly is this ride?”

He answered with his eyes closed. “…About two days.”

“Two days?!” you repeated, when you saw his smile grow slightly, you scowled. “I kinda hate you, you know.”

“I thought I was magic.”

“Magic and despised.”

He chuckled; eyes still closed. The bus pulled away from the curb, surprisingly empty. The sky outside was already dark, and the glow of the streetlights passed over the archer’s face. “We’re less likely to be recognized on the bus.”

“Curse you and your logic.”

Clint didn’t reply, and the two of you sat in silence for twenty minutes before you spoke again.

“It’s a little annoying how easily you can fall asleep.”

He smirked; eyes still stubbornly closed. “I’m not asleep.”

“…How about now?”

“Were you always this annoying on road trips?” he teased.

You laughed, closing your eyes too. “Oh, please. You’d be so bored without me.”

***

You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep still lingering. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but the wide expanse of road ahead of the bus told you you’d left the city a long time again, as did the faint pink glow tainting the deep purple of the night sky. You shifted, brow furrowing as you felt the warmth pressed up against your side and the rough fabric against your cheek. A comfortable weight rested against the crown of your head, and you frowned against the fuzziness still clinging to your tired mind.

Your eyes finally cleared to settle on the color of Clint’s jacket, and you felt his breath fan softly against your hair. You’d fallen asleep, your head falling against his shoulder, and he’d apparently done the same. His cheek was pressed against your hair, his breathing steady and even. A smile touched your lips as you let the sensation of his chest rising and falling lull you back into rest, and you ignored the sensible part of your brain that was trying to remind you that you were supposed to maintaining your distance from him.

Your eyes fell to your lap as your eyelids began to droop, and warmth flared in your cheeks. Your hand was on your thigh, and Clint’s rested beside it, his fingertips settled on the back of your hand. Your skin was warm and tingled under his touch.

Had he… had he been holding your hand?

.

.

.

tags: @trekkingaroundasgard @lovely-dreamer19 @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @lol-you-thought @akumune@xxboesefrauxx @enna-core@hearmyharmony@katsies @youralphawolf72 @maenji@rhymesmenagerie@gwianasky @melaclintbartoncorner @loki-is-loved@whovianayesha @bradfordbantams@alice-the-nerd@fanofallthefics @ace-fandom-dumbass @kaelyn-lobrutto24@twsssmlmaa @earth-pig-fish@meeksmusic83@hallothankmas@justanothermagicalsara@janineb86 @darsynia@rhymesmenagerie @thatwelshbi @lauraashley93@darkwhisperswolf

[ratherembarrassing]

2024: weeks 36 through 38

here are some things i had thrown into a note

beetlejuice beetlejuice (2024). cute! enjoyable but not mindblowing, but representative of a the middle class of films that no longer exists and which i miss dearly.

corridors of power (bbc, 2024). i'm still making my way through it, but if you're excited by seeing formerly powerful people say absolutely batshit crazy things about the exercise of that power, this might be for you too.

maria abramovich's this or that for GQ germany.

and now: LONDON (a chronological series of happenings)

airplanes: still miserable. i do think that we need to rethink international airtravel, because 23 hours in a plane is just ridiculous. nonetheless, in keeping with tradition, i had a pretty good 8-9 hours sleep, which i measured by having hotd on and every few hours waking up to wonder what all the screaming was about.

immediately spent money on clothes: it could not be helped. i've been staying walking distance from brick lane and these things happen. now i own a levis jacket that's as old as i am that fits me perfectly, as god intended.

food: part 1. took my cousin, who is also in london on holiday rn, to dishoom, per literally everyone's recommendation. you were all entirely correct.

food: part 2. abuelo in marylebone, served me some vanilla fig jam on a plate of random other foods that was, without exaggeration, the most delicious thing i have ever eaten. i literally asked if i could buy a jar. i could not, and i will feel sad about this for the rest of my life.

punished for the crime of being interested in a crime: the british museum. the parthenon room was closed, so what even was the point. anyway, i was generally unimpressed, with some exceptions (who amongst us is not moved by the existence of the rosetta stone, also a very good prints and drawings exhibition). but also my god, would it kill them to install some aircon (a sentiment i have felt applies to almost everywhere i have been in london thus far)?

very far away: kingsmeadow. opening week for my beloved chelsea, i could have wept from happiness. sat next to a local woman and her husband who come every week and talk about the team like they are each girl's parents and biggest stans, and it was entirely perfect.

did i mention: CHAPPELL FUCKING ROAN. yes, i queued for like five hours. i was 68th in the priority queue, which is behind the vips but in front of everyone else. all i did to get in that queue was buy an o2 sim card for £20, which i needed anyway. it was fun, everyone made friends, you could come and go as you pleased and we all made sure everyone got their spot back even as we were repeatedly shuffled up the side street behind the brixton o2. it was nice and wholesome and exactly what you would expect from the 99% of people who aren't assholes and also into this lovely woman. the rest is just a blur of askldhjalsk. objectively, she's not the best performer going right now, the show's not overly produced beyond a set list of songs and a bit of banter, and absolutely none of that matters in the face of how quietly charismatic she is and the absolutely insane set of pipes she's got. it was fucking intense, man. zero regrets about the time and money (oh my god, the money) it took to make this happen, delighted to have corrected my grievous mistake of choosing not to go to her show in melbourne last year.

i don't think my insurance covers this: ebiking across north and east london. first attempt was, uh. ill conceived, and i will never recover from seeing my phone go flying in one direction into the street as i went skidding along in the wet, still in the bike lane. phone's fine, i'm fine, not sure why i decided today was the day to ride a bike for the first time in 15 years. second attempt went much better.

sportsball 2: this time bigger! like the absolute turncoat that i am, i also went to arsenal's opener at emirates with 40k other people. sat next to a woman with her 13 year old daughter who come every few months and who noted early on, pointedly, that it was unfortunate we weren't sitting on the other corner, where we would have been closer to the WAGs. love this mum for this kid.

food: part 3. i just ate the most delicious burger i've ever eaten, wtf???

coming up: i fought a battle with booking.com, and i won, and tomorrow i'm off down the south coast for a few days. LA's roads didn't kill me, but london's might.

[cherrylng]

Matt Bellamy 20,000-character Interview - Muse [ROCKIN'ON (October 2001/August 2010)]

MATTHEW BELLAMY

Matthew Bellamy, 20,000-character interview. July 2001. Matthew Bellamy, then 23, tells all about his life in this 20,000-character interview, re-recorded!

“I wanted someone too. I always wanted someone I could look up to and follow in their footsteps. But I didn't have anyone. Then, suddenly, I thought, ‘Oh, I can say something great by myself, I can make something happen by myself’.”

Interview: SUZUKI Akane (first published in Rockin'On, October 2001)

"One night I couldn't sleep, so I went downstairs and found my mum talking to a dead person." 「I was born on 9th June, 1978. I have an elder brother and an elder sister, and this elder sister is from a different mother, because my father was married three times, so it's a bit of a complicated family (laughs). So I don't know her very well because I haven't had much contact with her. My brother has the same mother and is five years older than me. So I'm the youngest. So…… Yes, I was always very energetic and restless as a child (laughs). Even before I started school, I used to play with the neighbourhood kids on the street every day. I wasn't interested in music at that time.

My father was a musician and my mother was a medium. People often say I have an unusual family environment, but I never thought it was strange. And I wasn't a medium all my life, I just got into it at a certain time and then I stopped. Well, my grandma was a medium too, so maybe I have a strong psychic bloodline or something, but I don't believe in that kind of thing anymore. There was a table in the house with the alphabet written on it. A Ouija board (a British version of Kokkuri-san). Also, there are cups in the house that move even though nobody touches them (laughs). But I didn't make my living as a medium, I just did it for fun. My friends would ask me to do it. No, it's called divining the future…… See, I'm a medium, so I talk to the dead…… Mm-hm-hm-hm (giggles). Is that weird? But not so often…… I mean, there was a time when I did it all the time, but I didn't really understand it until I was 9 or 10 years old. One night I couldn't sleep, so I went downstairs and found my mum talking to a dead person (laughs). Then my mother explained to me what was going on. Then I got into it, too, and I played the part of writing the dead person's words on a piece of paper……. (laughs).

My brother was a musician, he took piano lessons. He didn't want to. But when I was five or six years old, I started to approach the piano on my own, even though he didn't teach me. I used to imitate the music my brother played for me and play it on the piano. I used to get a lot of pleasure out of playing TV programme themes by ear (laughs). But I never took any formal lessons, so I think it was only last year or so that my piano skills improved. From the age of five to twelve, I played the keyboard simply because it was fun. Then, when I was 10 or 11, I started listening to and practising blues records by Ray Charles and Robert Johnson. Late at night, my brother and father would play the records and I would copy them by ear. That's how I got my first gig when I was, I think, 12 years old. I went to a local little music showcase. I played Ray Charles-style piano and won. I was really happy. Because all the other kids were classical and could read the notes. Mine was completely improvised. Funky, isn't it (laughs)? In hindsight, I think my parents thought that was the way a child was going to follow a musical path and let me do it.」

"My first memory is…… when I was 2 years old and I smelled cough medicine. I could see another me smelling it. Then I wondered why I was here." 「My first memory is…… When I was 2 years old and I smelled cough medicine. I saw another me looking at me smelling it. And I thought, why am I here? For the first time I thought that I was different from other people, that I was not connected to other people. After that, that awareness didn't go away. But I don't know why I felt so uncomfortable with my existence. I really don't know. Do I talk to my friends about that kind of feeling……… Umm, yeah, well a little bit…… Hmmm. Yes, there were girls who understood me. I mean, I had friends who I could talk about it with. I don't think it's such an unusual way of thinking…… Do you think it's strange? Well, I guess you could say I was one of the first. Maybe, yeah. Well, to be honest, I didn't talk about it with people until I was about 12. I don't know how to explain it. I don't know what to say…… I mean, let's say I'm thinking about a particular thing all the time, right? Then all of a sudden I started wondering if other kids are thinking the same way, or what about them? Then I started to get confused because I didn't know what was going on at all. But, well, the thing I didn't understand the most was why I had to do something. You know, why do I have to go to school? In my own way, I came to the conclusion that school is there to strengthen society, or more precisely, to strengthen the nation (laughs). But really, I didn't know why I had to go to school. I don't know who influenced me. I don't think it had anything to do with my mother being a medium. I felt uncomfortable even when I was with my family in the first place. Even in my own house I wasn't sure that I belonged here. Yes, when I was 6 years old (laughs).

But when I'm making music, I feel like I'm one with the world. In other words, when I'm making music, I get nervous and I feel like I'm one with the world. This is a story from when I was very young, but I realised that when I was making music, I could go to a place where I had nothing to do with anything or anyone else in the world. You are alone and you don't need anything else but this music. It's like a state of ecstasy. After that, when I was in that state, school, parties and work seemed so boring (laughs). No, I don't think boredom is the right word, I think it's more like a feeling of, "what's the point of taking all that stuff seriously?"…… It's hard to explain in words. For example, if something bad happens, if I'm having a bad day - you know, if I get into an argument with someone, if I'm not having fun, if I'm in a bad mood anyway - as long as I make music, I can definitely enter that space. That's why I'm not good at emotions. I mean I'm not good at………… For example, when I was 13 or 14, my parents got divorced and I didn't feel anything. Really. I really felt it, but I didn't hide it, but yeah, I really didn't feel anything, I didn't feel anything. That's my problem. I mean, I'm a person who can't feel anything! ……I guess that means I was shutting off my emotions…… I don't know about that. Music, whether it's piano, guitar, singing or whatever, I got into bands right around the time of my parents' divorce, when I was 14 or 15 years old—anyway, music makes me feel something, it gives me a reason to be happy. It makes life more enjoyable. It gives me something to live for. I've lived with that feeling all my life…………… Yeah, well, maybe that's true. Maybe I was shutting out. But the reason I shut them out was because I didn't need them. I mean, I didn't need the feelings. Is that so weird (laughs)? But I really did. But now I'm working with emotions. And a lot of them (laughs).」

"Even when I was with my family I felt uncomfortable. Even when I was in my own house I wasn't sure that I belonged here, even though I was six years old."

"I left home when I was 17 and started living on my own, and the guy I started living with was a drug dealer." 「At school…… I've changed schools a lot. Let's see, (counts on fingers) I changed schools four times between the ages of 6 and 11. Heh heh. From 12 to 16 I went to the same school, and from 17 to 18 I went to another school, but I stopped there halfway through. I changed schools a lot because my parents moved four times, and after they split up I started living with my grandmother, and then I lived with my mother for a bit, so I was moving every six months…… So what was I like at school…… Yeah, I was quite hyperactive, cynical about teachers (laughs). Oppositional (laughs). I mean, you know, I could study. When I was about 12 or 13, I was good at science and maths, and I was in a special class for kids who could do it. But I was very lazy. I skipped a lot of classes. I would only come to school at noon (laughs). This started when I was around 13 or 14 years old, but school became really boring and I stopped going at all. I mean, I did go to school, but I hardly attended morning classes (laughs). I stayed up until midnight so I couldn't get up in the morning, so I would only come to school after noon (laughs). Yes, that's what I did from junior high school onwards (laughs). But, you see, I studied hard and got good grades, so I was able to get by (laughs). And at school in England, if you were late three times, you were given detention. So I was late more than three times in three years, and when I left school I got a ‘well done for being late’ award as a joke (laughs). I got detention almost every day. But the teachers didn't seem too worried. Because my grades were good. Well, in primary school I got the best grades in all subjects (all 5s) or something like that, but by the time I was 16 I was in the middle of everything. My parents didn't seem to be worried. I mean, they didn't know how far their son had come, did they? Well, I don't think they didn't know at all, but, you know, when I was 13 or 14, I lived with my grandmother, I lived with my mother, it was complicated (laughs). I didn't feel lonely because of that… …… But it was fun (laughs). Anyway, my mother worked and she'd go to work in the morning, so I could sleep in the house alone in bed. No one knows I'm home. My mother doesn't come home until five or six o'clock, so I'm alone after school. That's fun, isn't it (laughs)? I'd invite my friends over, we'd go out and do things, you know, …… All sorts of things. But I'm not like a delinquent or anything like that. Really. I might have been a bit of a bad boy, but only a bit. My friends were more like real bad boys. Nfufufufufufufufufufufu. But, well, when I think about it……… I think it was the band that kept me going. Because two or three of my friends were in serious trouble, you know, seriously. I mean, they became criminals or something (explosive laughter). Some of them I don't hang out with anymore, but some of them were stealing cars all year round, and I had a friend who was a drug dealer. I lived with him (laughs). I left home when I was 17 and started living on my own, and the guy I started living with was a drug dealer. But (desperately) I didn't do it, I really didn't do it [the drugs]. But he got into real, real trouble, and in the end he ended up in prison (laughs)? At that time I was seriously earning my living by working part-time as a painter. Then, when I was 18 or 19, I started playing a lot of small gigs with my band, and I started to concentrate on that. So the band helped me to take my mind off ‘that state’.

Part-time jobs, hey, um… I've done so many things I can't even remember anymore. I had a job washing campervans at a campsite…… And what was that again? Oh yeah, I also did demolition work. You know, the kind where you do the do-do-do-do with a drill (laughs). There was this huge shopping centre that had closed down because people weren't coming to it anymore. I spent six weeks demolishing it with my friends and stuff. That was fun (laughs). I also worked as a painter and interior decorator, and as a dishwasher. I worked part-time while I was at school, and I started working part-time when I was about 16, but basically I worked like that from the time I dropped out of school at 18 until I was 20, until the band got signed.」

"I wanted to be alone with her in the middle of nowhere. We were on a small island in Greece, not on any map, nobody knew where we were, for about three weeks." 「I took drama classes at school, but I did other things too. I couldn't just do music, could I? I had to go to school and I had to earn a living. And I had three girl friends. It's not a sexual relationship at all. I mean, I've always belonged to different groups. It's not just one, it's always more than one. There's one group of friends like Dom and Chris and the band, and then there's the group of drug dealers and car thieves that I mentioned earlier, that I hang out with on a daily basis, and then there's this group of girls. They do improvisation as a hobby, and they sing prayers to God Almighty and stuff like that. They were very eccentric and experimented with all sorts of things. And then, when I was 17, there was a period when I was hanging out with these girls. We would all lose ourselves and do weird things. All the friends I've mentioned, I'm friends with each of them, but I like them for different reasons, you know? Different experiences, different backgrounds. It's more interesting, isn't it? Anyway, so I went on a week-long trip with these girls, and we went to an area where there were churches and youth hostels and stuff like that, and we went to…… Oh, I can't explain this in words. It's really like a dream. It's like a fantasy, where we all dream together and play music purely from our imagination. You know what I mean? Well, that's what I mean by avant-garde. All three of them thought they were witches (laughs). And we read all these books about witches and Satanism and stuff like that. I thought that was cool, so I went along with them (laughs). And I could talk about spiritual things… But I think it was more because it was more interesting to use my weird imagination with them. The chemistry between the three girls and one cute guy… I mean, I don't want people to have weird imaginations, but it's not like that, it's more creative. We were really close spiritually, and we were really good friends. And we all sang scripture together and chorused together…… That's when I started singing in a girlish voice (laughs).

A-levels (optional subjects for university entrance exams), you know, I took Music, Media Studies, Philosophy and Photography. But I stopped taking philosophy and photography halfway through. I mean, I only attended one philosophy class. It was boring to death (laughs). So I stopped going to university……….. Oh, I think I was 17 when I went on a trip to Europe. Sorry, you know, I can't remember the dates, although I remember what happened. So we went all over Spain and Greece and stuff. But not for that long, like five months or something. I don't know what the purpose of the trip was, because, you know, I went with my girlfriend. I was crazy about her and I simply wanted to go somewhere with her. It was a lot of fun. I learnt to play flamenco guitar, and we went to Italy and Greece quite a lot…… I just wanted to be alone with her in the middle of nowhere. Eventually I found a little island in Greece called Paxos, it's not even on the map, it's a really small island, nobody knows it. So I was there alone with my girlfriend for about three weeks. But we hitchhiked all over Europe and took the train to get there. Money (laughs)? What did I do with it? I didn't have any money at the time, so I had to work part-time to save some money, I think. Then, in a place called Corfu, Greece, all my money was stolen. So I called her parents and asked them to send me some money. Her parents are very rich (laughs).」

"The kids at school weren't interesting at all, and I wanted to talk about more stuff. Things like what it means for a person to die. Things that normal people don't really think about." 「When I was around 16-18 years old, I was really frustrated because I didn't like the situation I was in. Everyone around me was so boring. So every day, all I could think about was, "I want to do something, I want to do something different, I want to do something, anything, even if it's against the law" (laughs). The kids around me just woke up, went to school, went home and went to bed. That's boring, isn't it? Also, the kids at school don't talk about anything interesting, and I wanted to talk about something different. For example, I'd like to talk about…… Religion, inspiration, spirituality, things like that. What does it mean for a person to die? Things that normal people don't think about much (laughs). But it's not all serious things like that, in my case, the way I approach girls is also different (laughs). Eh, so, um, I don't know, that's…… (laughs). More aggressive than others? (laughs). Er, no, not like that (laughs). That …… Well, I guess I'd like to do something a little more experimental (laughs). Erm… eh… …… Well, I'll leave it to your imagination (laughs). (coming to himself in a panic) Well, anyway, I was different in many ways from other people. Of course I had playmates, like I said before, and I had fun with them, but I wanted something more…… I was looking for something more. I think it's still the same today. I'm still not satisfied with the status quo. I don't know why I felt different at the time…… I don't know. Anyway, one thing I can say is that the people around me were fucking boring, I was like, are you guys really alive? Aren't you actually dead? (laughs)

It's not that I'm more precocious than other people, it's more that I always have the feeling that there is something stronger and more powerful than me that decides what I should do and gives me direction. Usually that would be a parent, a teacher or even God, but I didn't want to be ordered around by something like that. You know what I mean? And then I looked at the friends I was playing with and I realised… I mean, I always felt frustrated because I wanted someone, you know? I always wanted someone cool, someone I could look up to, someone I could follow. But there was no one. So, like I said before, I went down the rabbit hole (laughs). So it wasn't a revelation, but then all of a sudden I thought, "I should say something great, I should make something happen by myself." I thought maybe if I did that, then people might start doing what I told them to do. Exactly like 'Megalomania'? Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh. (panicked) Not , not …… I mean, for example, when I first started the band, I didn't want to be a vocalist. I was just playing guitar in the back, and I really enjoyed being in that kind of behind-the-scenes position. Oh, I was in this band when I was 15, a different band to Muse. But that band didn't get a lot of gigs, and they didn't really try to write their own original songs. I was always encouraging them to write songs and do original stuff. Eventually, I got out of that band and started writing my own songs. So for a long time I was looking for someone to be an example or a role model. But I couldn't find one. So I just had to start on my own. Do you understand what I'm saying now? But really, I didn't even think about doing it myself at first. I'm not a show-off or anything. Really, really (laughs). Now it's fun to be in the middle of the stage like this. Anyway…….. I wonder why everyone wants to imitate others like that. Do you know what it means to be a law-abiding person? A person who follows others obediently. I wonder why they follow without questioning anything like that. I would never follow someone and I don't want to. But everyone follows like that. Yes, I'm probably a very independent person. I'm as independent as I can be, as much as I can (laughs). But not completely stepping away from society (laughs)."

"Of course I had playmates and I had fun with them, but I was looking for something more…… I was looking for something more. I think that's still the case. I'm still not satisfied with the status quo at all."

"I put on some fancy clothes and make-up and stuff like that, and we went to a band competition or something like that. And we destroyed the whole stage. And we won." 「My first band was Gothic Plague when I was 15. I started it with Dom and two other guys to kill time. Ah, I didn't give them that name, but Dom's sister did. Chris was in a different band at the time. But when I was 14 or 15, it wasn't really a band, it wasn't like a live show or anything, it was just something we did because it was fun to get together and play. When it came to performing in front of people, sometimes we would play at parties. At those times, all the people in the audience were friends, and everyone was jumping up and down (sticking out middle finger and sticking out tongue), yelling and stuff like that (laughs). Then Chris, Dom, me and another person formed a band called Rocket Baby Dolls, which we formed out of necessity for a certain concert. Me and Dom wrote a couple of songs, and then I met Chris and we decided to do it together, and the three of us practised together. We weren't thinking ahead at the time, we didn't have any big vision. We simply dressed up in fancy clothes and put on make-up, you know, like junior high school and high school kids often do? That kind of thing. We went to a band competition. And we destroyed the whole stage and stuff. Yeah, I was already doing that from then on (laughs). Then I don't know what happened, but we won (laughs). That's when I started to take the future of the band a bit more seriously. We changed our minds and started practising properly, and after that it wasn't a game any more. All three of us instantly felt that this was a band that could express itself seriously. We could make music properly. That was when I was 16. And right after that, we went on the trip I mentioned earlier. Yes, of course I learnt to play the Spanish guitar because of that trip, and the Muse sound was born, but was that a turning point for me……? Yes, but I think it's a good thing that it was, because it coincided with the time period. We practised a couple of times for a couple of weeks and played a couple of shows. Then we went on a trip. I had already planned a trip with my girlfriend, so I couldn't cancel it. So I went on the trip, and the reason I took my guitar with me was because, in hindsight, I felt like I had to back out of Muse. After I came back from that trip, I started writing songs as fast as I could. Until then, I had mainly been improvising sounds. So during the trip I wrote some songs for the first time. I wrote the first song on the first album, let's see, "Cave", and I wrote the phrase in "Muscle Museum" while I was on the road. I also wrote parts of "Unintended". I started writing lyrics when I started writing my own songs, but only key phrases came out, one line or so. But it took me a while to finish the songs. I'd write a song, play the guitar and sing it, and try to remember the words as they came out. Then, when I have more time, I'll finish it properly. In the beginning it took me a long time to write songs, so I wrote them little by little.」

"I fell in love with her when I was 16 and we were together for six years straight. I didn't have a lot of the usual romantic frustrations and dissatisfaction that I would normally have had." 「Haha, of course I don't write boy-meets-girl lyrics…I don't know why. It's like feeling in love with someone, or like that girl, but you can't say it (laughs). You know…….. When I think about it, maybe that's one of the things that made me different from everyone else. I fell in love with the girl I mentioned earlier when I was 16 and we were together for six years. So I didn't have the usual relationship frustrations, cravings, 'I want a woman' feelings (laughs), in the first place. Well, it would be a lie if I said I had no such feelings, but I was seriously in love with that girl. Yes, I had a steady relationship with her. But she's a lot like me. I mean, she's the type of person who always wants more and more (bursts out laughing by himself for some reason). We were really like one in the same, but she was always wanting more and more and more. So we ended up going to…… She wanted to see the world, for example. So she's living a bit like me. She's still travelling. We broke up recently, I think six months ago. See………… But it's not like the love is gone. She's travelling all the time, and I'm touring all the time. Maybe that's why there aren't many love songs in my songs. I didn't spend my youth worrying about girls 24 hours a day, I'm sure. Well, that doesn't mean I was popular with the girls, you know… (extremely embarrassed) No, no, no, no, no……….. Oh, you know, the children's music competition I was telling you about earlier, I won first prize for piano, didn't you? I was the most popular person in school for two weeks after that (laughs).

Because, like most people, I had an inferiority complex. I didn't want to be short, you know. Also, at school, don't boys like athletic boys with well-developed athletic nerves? I hated sports (laughs). But I always had a lot of girl friends. I don't think I was ever considered for love (laughs), but there were always girls around me. So all the guys believed that I was having a sexual relationship with these girls (laughs). But actually it wasn't like that most of the time. I met her when I was 16 and since then it's just been her.」

"You don't sleep much when you're on tour - maybe 4 or 5 hours? But when I go home after the tour, I sleep for 13 or 14 hours." 「I don't know what it's like to be over-excited on stage. On the other hand, I wonder if you play music to find that…….. I just enjoy music the most, that's all I can say. I really don't know (laughs). …… I mean, there must be so many reasons. But maybe it's just something I can't help thinking about. You know, sometimes you have to go on without a clear reason, don't you? Also, you know, I eat a lot. I didn't eat much in Japan this time, but normally I eat a lot. …… (thinking seriously)…… But I don't really have a plan for what I'm going to eat, I don't have a proper meal plan or anything like that. And, er, …… You don't sleep much when you're on tour. Like here, maybe four or five hours? But when I go home after the tour, I sleep for 13 or 14 hours. Well, I'm not superhuman at all (laughs). No, I really sleep a lot. And when I'm on tour, I eat a lot because I move so much. Ah, but what do you think? I don't really think about that. I'm rather indifferent. Dom is always telling me to get fatter and fatter (laughs). Anyway, I eat a lot of junk food (laughs). Hahahahaha. Yes, yes, I eat proper food too.

I don't think touring is mentally demanding. I've always felt uncomfortable wherever I am…… On the other hand, I don't feel uncomfortable being uncomfortable anymore. I'm not even stuck in the typical British middle class, if you ask me. You know, Dom and Chris's house is just normal middle class, so their parents didn't really understand them being in a band at all. …… Gypsy? Hahaha, if you mean you don't feel a sense of belonging anywhere, then yeah. I don't belong anywhere. But on the contrary…… (plops his hat on the sofa) I feel at home wherever I put this hat, anywhere on earth is my home (laughs).」

Translator’s Note: This took a lot of time for me to translate this through. I’ve scanned the August 2010 issue to get this interview out, but added in the quotes from the original October 2001 issue of Rockin’On. For those quotes, I had to manually write it all down with a handwriting tool on Google Translate in order to add it into this interview.

Based on what I can read, it’s quite obvious that this was an in-depth interview with a lot of questions and small talk involved to coax Matt to talk at such length about his own life. But the questions asked by the journalist were not included to know what the questions looked like, even in the re-recorded version for 2010. You can sort of get hints of what those questions might have been like, judging by the way Matt gave his answers.

Also, seeing that this was basically a deep dive into Matt’s life up until the present back in July 2001, it’s kind of unique to see what a 23-year old Matt was like based on these words. Hell, even his words on how he felt towards his parents’ divorce was like seeing him go through the 5 stages of grief right in front of your own eyes before he finally acknowledged that shutting out his emotions towards the divorce when he was a teenager was in itself a form of grief for him.

The Greek island that Matt mentioned here took some time for me to find, because the katakana used for the island’s name didn’t turn up anything. Deepl called it “Phexos” while Google Translate said it was “Pexos”. The actual name of the island turns out to be Paxos, which is just 15 km south of Corfu. And given that Matt and Tanya went to Corfu after that, it matches the description and location. But for Matt to claim that Paxos is so small that it’s not even on a map is quite the egregious claim. Small enough to be overlooked as a holiday destination for the average British tourist? Perhaps. But it’s still well known enough for the rich and famous to holiday there and of course, drive up the price of real estate there.

Okay, I don’t know why that particular sentence was written that way, given that Rocket Baby Dolls were basically Matt, Dom, and Chris. And later on in the paragraph, Matt confirmed that it was only the three of them. However, given that this was from Matt’s word himself, he probably corrected himself after saying that. That said, Musewiki has stated that a couple of girls had helped them with writing some songs, so that’s probably what Matt meant of that mysterious fourth member of RBD, so to speak.

You can see that whenever Matt gets really flustered, embarrassed, or uncomfortable about what he was talking about, he backtracks so hard and quickly changes the topic, and all you do is just pity him and go along with it. For what can be said, even early on, it is observed that Matt can love quite deeply and doesn’t like the empty void in his life that is being a single bachelor. Or rather, in another way, he doesn’t enjoy the sense of loneliness in his personal life.

LMAO even Dom thought that Matt was too skinny back then and needed to gain more weight! That speaks for itself. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[atzjieun]

[240805 FROMM UPDATE]

[02:15 PM KST] | [01:15 AM EDT]

JIEUNIE SOPHIE hiiii tinys~ (PM 02:15)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE it’s been a while since i’ve been here, right? (PM 02:15)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE sorry for not being very active 😓 (PM 02:16)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE i’ll try harder in the future! (PM 02:16)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE wow so many international atiny are awake (PM 02:16)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE it’s 1am here though? (PM 02:16)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE ah i see. i guess people just don’t sleep during sunmer break (PM 02:18)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE yes i’ve been exploring all the cities! (PM 02:19)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE i know my reputation ㅋㅋㅋ but i promise i’ve gone out (PM 02:19)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE there were a few days i stayed at the hotel because i was tired, but the members drag me out often (PM 02:19)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE i went to a restaurant with mingi-oppa and yeosang-oppa the other day! (PM 02:20)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE the food was so good!! best steak i’ve ever had and i ate so much i thought i’d explode (PM 02:20)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE toronto and illinois atiny!! please give me some food recommendations 😊 (PM 02:21)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE i like trying local food places 🥰 it’s fun to see what different foods are popular here (PM 02:21)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE ah, what did i do today? (PM 02:21)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE well earlier i went out for brunch with hongjoong-oppa (PM 02:21)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE then i worked out at the gym for a bit (PM 02:21)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE and then took a shower and have been resting since (PM 02:22)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE wooyoung-oppa and i were watching a movie (PM 02:22)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE mamma mia of course <3 (PM 02:22)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE you guys want a tmi? (PM 02:23)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE hmm… (PM 02:23)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE ack it hurts (PM 02:24)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE wooyoung’s laying on my leg and cutting off my circulation (PM 02:24)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE he fell asleep while watching mamma mia!! a crime, really (PM 02:24)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE that’s why i came to talk to atiny~ (PM 02:25)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE no, i’m not going to send a photo of him asleep (PM 02:25)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE i did take some, but those will stay between the members for now ㅋㅋㅋ (PM 02:26)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE maybe i’ll use them for blackmail later (PM 02:26)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE some people are asking for another mamma mia cover (PM 02:27)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE maybe one day! (PM 02:27)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE i've been working on a lot of things in between shows (PM 02:27)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE no spoilers~ (PM 02:28)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE LOL someone's asking what i'm getting mingi for his birthday (PM 02:28)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE nice try mingi-oppa (PM 02:28)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE i know its you (PM 2:29)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE i might try to sleep soon (PM 02:29)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE i forgot i'm going out with the others tomorrow (PM 02:29)

JIEUNIE SOPHIE goodnight north american atinys <3 please go to sleep (PM 02:30)

a/n: jiwoo are officially no longer fighting in real time :) the details of their fight will be shared one day LMAO

a/n 2.0: the layout for the fromm post was inspired by the lovely @ateezjuliet :”)

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

heavy warnings - SA!!, vague mention of drug use - if any of these topics make you uncomfortable the scene involving SA will be outlined and please don’t feel the need to read it, please take care of yourself🩷

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused

Chapter 3

Time had become my enemy. Matt was due to return to the States on March 1, 1960. I had only a few months left to spend as much time with him as I could.

Every minute I wasn’t with him, I thought of him. My life was now dominated by him and yet there were times when I would be disappointed by him. One evening he told me he would call and didn’t. When I finally heard from him the next day, he said, “Hi, Baby. Do you think you can come over tonight?”

“What happened last night? You were supposed to call.”

“I was? Oh shit.” He had been concentrating on his karate lesson and had forgotten.

I had to learn not to take his words to heart. It was disappointing, but it was just his way.

Matt’s calls usually came after seven to let me know that I’d be picked up around eight. I had to dress quickly, trying to find some way to appear older than my age. His father was concerned about Matt being with a minor. My clothes were all young and unsophisticated skirts and sweaters. At times I’d borrow my mother’s clothes and hope everyone would assume that I was at least sixteen.

As I got to know Matt, I learned that when he wasn’t at the base, he stayed at home all of the time. He had little choice. The moment he stepped out of the door there was a giant mob scene around him. Even going to see a local movie required elaborate planning. Someone would drive Matt’s car in front of the house. He would then run out, hurdle the fence, and duck into the car before any of his fans could start begging him for autographs. There were always crowds after him, calling, standing outside the house, literally charging at him when he entered any public place. Many evenings when Matt had early morning calls it was either David Jones, a friend who Matt had brought over from the States, or James Sturniolo who drove me to and from 18 Hauptstrasse.

One particular evening when neither David nor James was able to drive me home, Matt had a “friend” who was called Pete take me.

THIS SCENE INCLUDES SA!!

if this topic makes you uncomfortable please skip.

Pete was driving me from Matt’s home back to Wiesbaden. I was tired and dozing off. All of a sudden, I felt the road get bumpy. I opened my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You’ll find out,” he said, turning his head away.

We had driven off the highway onto a dirt road. I could see the lights of one distant house, and the rest was all blackness. I began to get frightened. “What’s going on?” I inquired, confused. By then Pete had stopped the car and shut off the ignition.

I repeated my question, but Pete didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and grabbed me, trying to kiss me. I pushed him away, struggling. He threw me down on the seat.

Panicked, I begged, “Don’t! Leave me alone!” I started fighting. I kicked one door open and opened the driver’s door with my hand while simultaneously banging the horn, hitting the lights, and scratching at his face. Out of frustration and fear of being caught, he finally gave up.

The rest of the way home, he never said a word. I just sat there sobbing, disbelieving, praying that I would get home safely.

END OF SCENE

Three days passed from that night before I heard from Matt. My parents knew something was wrong; however, I couldn’t tell them Pete tried to attack me because I would never be allowed to ride with him again. If I didn’t, how would I get to and from Matt’s if David and James weren’t available? My imagination ran wild. I was afraid to tell Matt because I thought Pete was his friend. I began to think that perhaps Matt knew what Pete had attempted. Maybe I was just a plaything to Matt, someone to pass around to Pete, or anyone else who wanted me. I was tortured by my thoughts.

Finally, Pete called and said Matt wanted to see me. I had no choice but to go with him.

During the drive to Bad Nauheim, Pete made no mention of what had transpired between us, and neither did I. I said nothing. I was very apprehensive being with him. I didn’t know, when he removed his hand from the steering wheel, if he was going to try to touch me, or just what was on his mind. I had no choice but to tell Matt.

That evening, when we were alone in his room, Matt asked me if anything was wrong.

My voice was trembling. I could hardly get the words out.

When I finally did tell him, Matt went crazy. “I’m going to kill him,” he shouted. He paced the floor, cursing Pete. I was his little girl, Matt said, and he had never gone all the way with me. Now this other guy, this so-called friend of his, had tried to rape me. I listened as he shouted, secretly relieved at his response. How could I ever have doubted Matt?

Matt was so angry, it took me the whole evening to calm him down. I finally convinced him that we had to keep Pete’s attack secret from my parents, or I’d never be allowed to come back. Matt held me tightly, as if trying to take the painful memory away. He felt guilty for having put me in such a dangerous position.

From that time on, Pete was fully excluded from Matt’s life. I don’t think Matt ever told him why, but Pete must have known. He rarely came around after that.

I began to realize that Matt expected total loyalty from his friends. If he was betrayed, he would just cut that person out of his life.

James was now sporting a neatly trimmed mustache that, according to Matt, Angela Stanley had encouraged him to grow. Mine and James’s conversations in the car were somewhat boring, and I always sensed he’d just as soon be doing something else, like spending the time with Angela, who sometimes accompanied him.

These days when I arrived at 18 Hauptstrasse I’d often find Matt upstairs studying the ancient art of karate with his instructor or downstairs in the living room proudly demonstrating new moves to his entourage, who stood about interested at his mastery of this newly popularized art form.

Matt also spent hours with a half-mad German masseur who had him convinced he could rejuvenate facial skin with his secret treatments, Matt having always been self conscious about some large pores on his face started to see him. Nate Doe ribbed Matt, saying, “What the hell’s he doing that’s so special? You look the same to me.” Defensively, Matt shot back, “Well damn! He says it’ll take some time before you see the results.” James interjected: “Time? Yeah, probably enough time to bankrupt us all by what he’s charging. I wouldn’t trust him farther than I could throw him.”

Always a center of activity at the house was Matt’s grandmother, who he nicknamed Dodger. Matt had come up with the name when he was a small boy of five and, during a temper tantrum, had thrown a baseball, missing her head by inches. Matt jokingly said, “She dodged out of the way so fast.” He started calling her Dodger from that moment.

Grandma took care of the household, did the cooking, kept everyone and everything under control. She had the air of a person with a firm purpose in life, which, in Matt’s case, was to make sure he was very well cared for. When I sought quiet while Matt practiced karate, Dodger’s room was a place to escape to. We’d sit for hours and she would tell me about the old days, about Mary Lou and her boundless love for Matt, about the grim struggle the Sturniolos had waged for survival. She had been with James and Mary Lou from the time of Matt’s birth, helping out when Mary Lou took jobs to contribute to the family’s support. A strong woman, Grandma had prevailed when her husband had walked out on her, leaving her with five children. She wanted you to believe she held a grudge against J. D. Sturniolo, but Dodger was a forgiving heart and I believe she still cared for him.

She helped raise Matt as if he were her own son, somewhat spoiling him as grandmothers do. She always rushed to his defence when she felt Mary Lou was too stern. Dodger said to me, “Mary Lou always called me Mrs. Sturniolo from the time I first met her until she breathed her last breath. One day Matt came running in and said, ‘Hi, Minnie!’ I felt so sorry for that young’un. Mary Lou rose up, took her hand to that boy, and said, ‘Don’t you ever call her by her first name. That’s disrespectful. She’s your grandma.’ He cried for an hour. I went in and said, ‘Son, it’ll be all right. She was just doing what she thought was right. Now you go in and apologize to her.’ Poor little boy looked at me with those blue eyes. So pitiful. Oh, she could be hard on him. He was a good boy, though. Never really got into any trouble, always came right home from school and did his chores. Yes, and Mary Lou would watch over him like a hawk, so scared he’d be hurt. He wanted so bad to play football at school.”

Grandma rocked back and forth in her chair, seeing something in the past that made her start picking at the bobby pins in her hair. She reached for her little box of snuff, took a dip, situated it just right, and then continued to reminisce. “Yes, he loved sports.”

“Then why didn’t he go out for any, Grandma?”

“Oh no. Mary Lou wouldn’t have that. She’d tell me, ‘Oh, Mrs. Sturniolo, I couldn’t stand it if Matt got hurt. It would kill me. I’ve watched how they play out there in those fields. They get real rough. I think they enjoy hurtin’ each other. Matt isn’t like that. He’d get out there and he’d be like a wounded bird in a pack of wild dogs. Not my young’un.’” Mary Lou’s constant effort to protect Matt, I learned, was the result of her anguish over the death of Matt’s twin brother Joseph Aaron Sturniolo.

I came to love Dodger and what she represented, compassion and total devotion to her family.

My biggest problem in those days was that Matt and I never seemed to have enough time alone. People were always dropping by, standing around the living room talking and laughing, until Matt came down from his room. As soon as he appeared, the room would become silent until he revealed his mood. No one, including myself, dared joke around unless he laughed and then we all laughed.

Because I had to share the little time I had with Matt with so many others, I began to feel jealous and possessive. It was only late in the evening, when we were in his bedroom, that I was truly happy.

We had a nightly ritual. At about ten or eleven, Matt would glance at me and look toward the stairs. Then, naively assuming that nobody knew where I was headed, I’d casually proceed to his bedroom, where I’d lie on his bed, impatiently waiting for him to appear. When he joined me, he’d lie as close to me as he could. “I love you,” I whispered. “Shhh,” he said as he put his fingers to my lips. “I don’t really understand what it is I’m feeling. I’ve grown to love you, y/nn. Dad keeps reminding me of your age and that it can’t be possible . . . When I go home . . . Only time will tell.”

Each night that I was with him he entrusted a little more of himself—his doubts, his secrets, and his frustrations. It was a lot to expect an impressionable fourteen year old to understand, but I tried. I felt his pain over his mother’s death. I ached over his desire to become a great actor like his idols Marlon Brando, James Dean, Karl Malden, and Rod Steiger. I was concerned about his fears that he might not regain the popularity he felt he’d lost by serving in the Army. And I reveled in his laughter when he asked, “What if one day I end up back driving a Crown Electric truck? Wouldn’t that be something?”

I was there for him, to listen, to hold his hand, or to make a funny face that would turn his frown into a smile.

Sometimes Matt would enter his bedroom in high spirits. I longed for those nights when he’d shut off the lights and lie close beside me.

“Sweetness,” he would say, putting his arms around me. “You’re so pretty, Honey.” And then we’d kiss long, deep, passionate kisses, and his caresses would leave me weak with desire.

Nights when his mood was calm and peaceful, he would describe his ideal woman and tell me how perfectly I fit this image.

He liked soft-spoken y/hc with y/ec eyes. He wanted to mold me to his opinions and preferences. Despite his reputation for being a rebel, he held the traditional view of relationships. A woman had her place, and it was the man who took the initiative.

Loyalty was very important to him, especially on the woman’s part. He constantly reminded me that his girl had to be completely constant. He admitted that he was concerned about Nicole. She was a Boston beauty queen and television personality. Matt said that lately her letters had become very impersonal, and he suspected she had been with another man.

Despite his moralizing, I feared Matt wasn’t always faithful to me. His bantering with some of the other girls at his house made me think that he might be intimately familiar with them.

One evening he was playing the piano for the regular group, plus a couple of English girls. When he picked up his guitar, he looked around, but couldn’t seem to find his pick.

“Anybody seen my guitar pick?” he asked.

One of the English girls looked up and smiled. “It’s upstairs on the night table next to your bed. I’ll get it.”

All eyes, including mine, zeroed in on her as she made her way up the stairs, aware that she was now the center of attention.

Furious at his obvious betrayal, I turned to him, but he was avoiding my gaze by looking down at his guitar, plucking it as if it needed tuning. Then he burst into “Lawdy, Miss Clawdy.”

Without a pick, his fingers must have hurt badly, but no matter what, he wasn’t about to put that guitar down. He knew he was in trouble.

After he’d finished a medley of songs, Matt excused himself and retreated into the kitchen, with me right behind him.

“Have you been with her?” I demanded.

“No,” Matt insisted.

“Then how did she know where your guitar pick and room were?”

“She was over one night, and I mentioned how dirty the place was,” he answered, a boyish grin on his face. “She offered to clean it, simple as that.”

Despite his declaration of innocence, I was not reassured. He was the sexual idol of millions and could choose whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted. I quickly learned, for my own survival, not to ask too many questions.

As the weeks passed, school became an unbearable chore. After getting to bed so late, I found it difficult to rise at seven and almost impossible to concentrate. But I knew that if I ever complained about being too tired, or was late for school, my parents would use the fact to put a stop to my seeing Matt.

My study habits became worse. I was failing algebra and German, and barely passing history and English. At the end of the fall semester, I altered the D-minus grade on my report card to a B-plus, praying my father would never consult the teacher. I kept telling myself that I would do better, that I’d catch up, but my concentration was totally on Matt.

One night when I went to see him, I fell asleep while waiting for him to finish his karate class. When he came downstairs and saw how exhausted I was, he asked, “y/n, how many hours of sleep are you getting?”

After a second, I said, “About four or five hours a night. But I’ll be fine,” I added quickly. “I’m just a little extra tired tonight because we had some tests at school today.”

Matt looked thoughtful, and then said, “Come upstairs a minute. I have something for you.” He led me up to his room, where he placed a handful of small white pills in the palm of my hand. “I want you to take these; they’ll help you stay awake during the day. Just take one when you feel a little drowsy, no more than one, though, or you’ll be doing handstands down the hallway.”

“What are they?” I asked.

“You don’t need to know what they are; they give them to us when we go on maneuvers. If I didn’t have them, I’d never make it through the day myself. But it’s okay, they’re safe,” he told me. “Put them away and don’t tell anyone you have them, and don’t take them every day. Just when you need a little more energy.”

Matt honestly thought he was doing me a favor by giving me the pills, and I’m sure the thought never entered his mind that they could be harmful to him or me.

I didn’t take the pills. I put them in a small box with various items I had started to collect, such as cigar holders and little personal notes he had given me, and hid the box in a drawer.

Later I learned that the pills were Dexedrine, which Matt had first discovered in the Army. A sergeant had given several men pills to help them stay awake while on guard duty. Matt, who was accustomed to living the life of an entertainer and who despised rising at dawn, began taking the pills to get him through the long dreary hours of Army life. He told me he’d begun taking sleeping pills shortly before he’d been drafted. He dreaded insomnia and feared sleepwalking, which had plagued him periodically since childhood.

In fact, as a boy, he’d once sleepwalked straight out of his apartment, dressed only in his underwear. A neighbor woke him, and, embarrassed, he ran back into the house. Another time, he nearly fell out of a window. Consequently, to avoid accidents, he slept with his parents until he was grown, and he feared his sleepwalking habit for the rest of his life. It was one of the reasons he usually had someone sleeping with him.

Years later, I learned that someone had been employed in Germany to watch over him throughout the night.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - i know this was a deeper chapter so for anyone who skipped it i promise its not very important to the story however Priscilla included this in her book so i thought i should share that too. 🎀