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intheupside · 6 months ago

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addressing the boys in the locker room and living his ted lasso dreams

also there’s an athletic article about it:

“It was a roller coaster,” Crosby told The Athletic of the game, shaking his head and smiling. “I feel like there’s been a lot more eyeballs, a lot more attention on this team.”

Crosby, wearing Canada’s red home kit, watched one of the more thrilling games of Copa America. Canada took an early lead thanks to Jacob Shaffelburg, who not only comes from the same province as Crosby, Nova Scotia, but is just the second men’s national team player from the province. Canada’s very own ‘Maritime Messi’.

Venezuela tied the game thanks to captain Salomon Rondon’s long-range chip in the 64th minute but Canada looked composed through penalties and midfielder Ismael Kone scored the winning spot-kick.

And not long after Canada entered their locker room to continue celebrating, Crosby joined them.

“Crosby said it was an ‘Unbelievable Canadian moment,’” defender Alistair Johnston said. “He said ‘The penalties were insane’ and something that he couldn’t even imagine doing.”

Crosby then singled out what midfielder Jonathan Osorio called the “guts of the group” to step up and score in penalties. “They look like a real tight-knit group,” Crosby said.

Crosby’s visit to Canada’s dressing-room soon began trickling out on social media but it wasn’t planned. Crosby said that every summer he and a group of teammates from his days playing junior hockey for Rimouski Oceanic in the Quebec Maritimes Junior Hockey League organize a trip together. This year, once Canada qualified for the quarterfinal, they made the decision to travel south to Arlington.

It was only in the hours leading up to the game that a mutual friend of one of the Canadian players extended an invite to Crosby to come into the dressing room.

As he made his way around the room, Canadian players beamed. Osorio said Crosby nabbed Shaffelburg’s jersey postgame.

“I got to see a Nova Scotia legend,” Shaffelburg said. “I’ve always looked up to (Crosby). To meet him was unbelievable.”

Crosby then encouraged the team for the future and reminded them how proud they have made Canadians.

“His words mean a lot,” goalkeeper Maxime Crepeau said. “But it’s an example of how we are slowly changing things for our country.”

Crosby then posed for a photo with the entire team. He’s no stranger to winning over the hearts of an entire country, having scored arguably the most important goal in Canadian sports history to win the 2010 Olympic gold medal over the United States.

And Crosby understands what so many others are coming to learn as well: This Canadian team is becoming a truly special one.

“The way they reacted after (Venezuela’s tying goal) — it’s a tough goal to give up, but they kept coming,” Crosby said when asked what makes this team special.

Canada is no stranger to having heroes visit the team: Famed astronaut Chris Hadfield joined them for a pre-game speech before their 2022 World Cup opener.

But Crosby’s star status is as radiant as they come in Canada. For generations, Canada’s national team was looked at as an afterthought. Qualifying for the World Cup began to change the perception of the team at home. Yet what they have lacked as of late are results against top teams to earn more fans.

That’s changing, and Crosby isn’t just witness to it. Against Venezuela, he was part of it. “With the games that they’ve put together, they’re only going to get more and more (attention). It’s fun to see. They deserve it. It seems like they’re a really great group of guys,” Crosby said.

This Canadian team is tasked not just with winning matches as they’ve done under new head coach Jesse Marsch; they also understand it’s their responsibility to continue to grow a game that might enjoy heavy participation among children but still falls behind hockey in terms of national popularity.

“What a legend to have on our side,” Marsch said of Crosby. “This is important for us in 2026 (at the World Cup with Canada hosting alongside the U.S. and Mecico). We want to feel the power of the entire nation.”

Now, the team is looking at Crosby’s endorsement as another example of their own star in Canada growing brighter.

“You can tell how much it means to the team that we are taking that next step in Canadian pop culture,” Johnston said. “You could see that we’re reaching a bigger crowd than just the football mad crowd. We’re inspiring a lot of people.”

Canada’s next chance to inspire will undoubtedly be their most difficult test yet: A semifinal against world champions Argentina.

As difficult a test as it might be, Canadian players all agree they believe more people than ever will be watching their team. And that includes Crosby.

#pittsburgh penguins #sidney crosby #copa america

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ahedderick · 2 months ago

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When I was a child, I counted the books in my mother's library. It was thousands. She couldn't ever bear to purge or part with any. They stayed there, on the shelves, for the years that my father lived there alone. Gathering Dust. And now - Hurray! - they're my problem.

After his death I spent 6 months cleaning relentlessly, then burned out big-time. In that period I did manage to weed the books quite a lot, and found many that could be thrown away, donated to the high school art program for art projects, or donated to a free library at a nearby store. Now I'm back at it. The top two shelves, here, have cracked loose at one side. Although it's hard to tell in the picture, they are sloping backward, and need to be shored up.

When I cleared books off, I found a lot of them were college textbooks, literary collections, history books, and even highschool/junior high texts. Many I was able to simply throw away. However, a history or geography textbook that is sufficiently old can go out the other side of being "outdated" and become of interest again as a time capsule.

"College Geography" and "The Human Face of Changing Africa" - from the 1960s. A four-volume history of England - from the 1860s (Jeez). United States History published 1909, with a school board sticker inside. "The Essays of Elia" by Charles Lamb, which is only of interest to me because it's mentioned as an important plot point in "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" (which was SO GOOD,and it was made into a movie, too)

Anyhoo. Point is, I will give any of these away to anyone who wants them and can send me a few bucks for shipping costs. As far as shipping goes, It would probably be best to keep it to North America.

#books #old books #vintage books #book lover #book life #bookblr #history

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fandomnerd9602 · 2 months ago

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First Meetings

Petra Parker x Stark!Reader

Set during Captain America: Civil War

For @omniman65 and @supercorpdanbeau

Being the son of Tony Stark has perks and it’s disadvantages. On one hand, you have the coolest avenger for your father and unending resources to be able to create your own iron suits. On the other hand, you have the fact that everybody wants to get close to you just they could be with your dad

So besides your best friend and future college roommate, Harley Keener, it could be very lonely being the son of Tony Stark, the invincible Iron Man.

It all started during the Sokovia Accords incident. You naturally chose your father’s side, not all willingly but you understood where he was coming from. You thought you’d be able to revise it from the inside. Maybe create a special council for it.

But that was less on your mind as Dad had you track down Steve and Bucky to an airport in Germany. You had Natasha, Vision, and a new guy in a panther suit in a hanger on the outskirts of Schkeuditz, Germany.

Your dad walked in a little more serious than usual as he approaches you. “Junior,” he states, “please show Ms. Parker here around”

He gestured to a young woman, close to your age. Brunette hair, hazelnut eyes and the cutest smile with dimples that you had ever seen. If you weren’t dating Wanda, you would’ve asked her out right then and there.

She turned to you and smiled, "H-Hi there I'm Petra. Petra Parker."

"Hey" you gave her hand a quick shake, "I'm (Y/N). (Y/N) Stark. Codename - the..."

"Iron Knight!" She giddily interrupts you, "sorry I'm just such a fan of yours. I'm Spider-Girl."

"Always nice to meet a fan" you try to go back to your task of fixing your armor. She looks over your shoulder, "anything you need Spidey?"

"I was just thinking you should add titanium couplers to your routers, should allow for faster cooldown and energy retention"

You put down your tools in amazement, you put on your Edith glasses, "Edith run Ms. Parker's hypothesis for me"

A female, robotic voice answered, "Ms. Parker's titanium couplers would in theory do exactly as she stated."

You turn to Petra in amazement, "a gal after my own heart."

"I just love fixing things. You learn a lot when you make your own equipment." She says with a blush. Petra pulls out a makeshift suit with cumbersome looking web shooters

"Gotta be difficult on the wrists" you remark

"Kind of is," she tries to hide her embarrassment. You inspect one of the web shooters.

"Give me a couple hours" you state with a smirk

"Huh?"

"We can't have you going into battle wearing a set of PJs, Parker" you smile at her, "besides I owe you for the whole coupler idea"

"I think you and I are gonna get along just fine" you smiles.

And you did. You got Petra her new suit and web shooters. Dad transitioned you to being a liaison for an idea he dubbed the Young Avengers initiative, this meant that you and Petra would be spending a lot of time together in New York as ground level heroes after class.

Class. Yeah Tony didn't tell you that it also meant you would no longer be home schooled by Pepper or Edith and would instead by transferred to Midtown High. You were in shock. Pepper was happy you'd be socializing with people your age. Meanwhile, Happy was just glad that Petra would be calling you rather than him.

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aealzx · 1 year ago

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Letting the drape over the infirmary entrance drop closed to muffle some of the external noises, Don made his way to the kitchen to finally oblige Mikey’s demand to feed everyone. It was normal to have a commotion coming from the room, so he wasn’t surprised at the noise of boisterous chatter filtering out from the entrance. Especially since it looked like Casey and Mom April were there early, already seated at the table and asking questions.

“Actually, the Donnie is the feisty one.”

Don reached the kitchen entrance as Raphael responded to Casey’s comment, Raphael’s voice saturated with amusement at the fact. Don hadn’t caught what Casey said before, but it was easy to hear him now.

“What? You gotta be kidding. Don is the hot head in their family?” Casey gawked, looking over at Don in disbelief.

“Not a hot head, just aggressive. Kid totally bit through someone’s arm and broke the bone. It was awesome, if not for the fact it was some scientist treating him like a lab experiment,” Raphael corrected, folding his arms. If it weren’t for the situation Donnie and Lil Mikey had been in many of their feats would have been subject of quite the boastful conversation.

“You’re kidding!” Casey gawked again.

“Not even. We saw it on camera. He was completely restrained and then just chomped down on some lady’s arm and didn’t let go even though she punched him in the nose. It was impressive,” Mikey chimed in, semi miming some of the actions. “They’re both crazy strong. AND the Leo. He showed up a little while ago, and get this, the kid can teleport.”

“Okay I don’t believe that. They’re not superheroes Mikey,” Casey retorted, wrinkling his nose a little. Teleporting mutant turtles? That sounded like something that would be from the Justice Force, not the sewers of another world.

“‘Course they aren’t. Lil me said they’re actually super soldiers. Like Cap’n America and Winter Soldier. Sick, right? The lil guy can totally fling those giant mechas around like they’re baseballs,” Mikey countered, hopping up to lean across the table with a huge grin.

“Are they alright?” Mom April asked yet again as Casey took Mikey’s taunting bait and jumped up to tackle him. She was looking up from where she was helping Junior with some mash Mikey always had on hand these days, and seemed more concerned about the visiting groups’ health than their abilities.

Giving a bit of a sigh that was a mix between amused and exasperated, Raphael looked over to Don, gesturing a hand at him to answer. Maybe if the doctor of the house answered she would finally be reassured that the kids were going to be fine. “They’re alright,” Don assured confidently. “They’re all sleeping now, I don’t think they got much lately. But their wounds have been taken care of, and they seem comfortable. All four of them are here, and they even have their version of you with them too.”

“Me?” Mom April sputtered slightly, having not thought about the possibility. She was definitely more assured of their state now that Don gave her an answer along with the others, making room as he took a seat on the other side of Junior as her.

“Yeah, she’s nothing like you either,” Raphael laughed, rocking back on two chair legs after Leo chased Mikey and Casey out of the kitchen before they broke something.. “She’s a spunky lil gal. Fresh out of highschool it seems, and could probably crack my skull if she wanted to. I almost thought she was an alternate Angel instead.”

“It seems to run in the group. They’re all a lot more… brazen than I would expect. They don’t seem to have much discipline,” Leo commented, noting that many of the comments so far about their guests had been about how rambunctious they were.

“What makes you say that?” Mom April asked. She knew Leo had always been the one of the brothers that was more strict about discipline, following Master Splinter’s teachings the closest. But over the years he’d become less prone to associate an abundance of energy with lack of discipline.

“We fought their Leo a bit when he first came here – there was a misunderstanding that got cleared up – but his movements aren’t refined. It’s almost as though he was self taught,” Leo pointed out, having to quickly reassure Mom April that there hadn’t been too bad of a skirmish.

“You noticed it too, huh,” Don voiced his agreement. “We all had Master Splinter training us since we were kids, but Leon seems to only recently be getting some sort of structured tutelage for his martial arts.”

“He fights like he learned from watching movies,” Raphael huffed, amused at the thought. “It’s surprising he’s figured out how to make it work.”

“He does seem to learn fast though. I wonder what he would have done if you had actually shoved him off,” Don added, his mind wandering off to consider the possibilities.

“You let him catch you?” Leo’s incredulous voice snapped as he rounded on Raphael, a scolding lecture quickly rising.

“Duh,” Raphael snorted, narrowing his eyes at Leo and leaning away from him. “The kid’s a toothpick. You really think he could keep me pinned like that?”

The retort only served to rile Leo up more though, and he smacked his hands on the table to lean over Raph. “Oh, that’s great. So what was your plan if he actually slit your throa-”

The words were interrupted by a piece of chicken from Mikey’s stew smacking him in the side of the head. As both Raphael and Leo blinked in surprise they broke off their conversation to look towards the source of the launched food only to see Don giving them a pointed stare. He didn’t have to say anything. They’d had this lecture from him many times before. Walking them through their word choice barrier that only caused fights instead of helped. It caused Leo to shrink down in his usual embarrassed retreat as he forced himself to reanalyze his distress and word it in a way that Raphael would understand better.

“.............. You scared me,” Leo finally muttered, keeping his gaze elsewhere. “I thought…. I didn’t want to see you gushing blood from your neck.”

Oh. So that’s what it was. Like always Raphael didn’t see how the previous lecture connected to what Leo admitted, but he still understood by now that this was just the way Leo reacted. Blinking as the dots connected in his own brain, it was Raphael’s turn to shrink in mild sheepishness as he fully realized what could have happened. Sure, Don could have taken care of the injury if it had happened. But was it worth the mental and emotional distress he would have caused the others? “...My b-.... Sorry,” he responded, equally muttering and switching for words he knew Leo took to heart better. “I guess I was just more focused on getting the kid to stop moving and calm down.”

It made sense, and Leo let out a sigh as the tension from that fight finally eased away into his normal pool of anxiety over possibilities and not actualities. Letting himself droop forward a bit, Leo awkwardly knocked his forehead against Raphael’s shoulder to let him know he accepted the apology and reasoning. As Raphael raised a hand to roughly pat the back of Leo’s head, Don exchanged a soft chuckle with Mom April over the interaction while Master Splinter hid a smile with his teacup. With the bubbling argument abated, Don pulled them back to thoughts that had returned to his mind after one of Raphael’s comments

“Speaking of getting Leon calmed down,” Don spoke up, grabbing their attention. “I think Leon suffers from traumatic flashbacks.”

The sudden shift into a more sensitive topic caused the others in the room to still, and Leo quietly pulled a seat over to settle in. Raphael shifted uneasily, making an uncertain connection that he had to clarify. “...Like the waking dreams Leo sometimes had after Shredder’s men put him in a coma?” he asked, feeling a little bad for mentioning it when Leo fidgeted.

“Yes, but I think they’re worse,” Don answered, forgetting his half eaten meal in front of him for now as he started to explain his reasoning. “When he was attacking us it was calculated at first, but I noticed at some point something happened and he got… frantic. His attacks had more force behind them and were less structured. Almost like a panicked fight response to keep from freezing up. I thought it was weird at the time, but it wasn’t until he was with Lil Mikey that I had the thought he may have had a flashback. It was quiet, but I heard Lil Mikey asked Leon ‘are you here?’ And when I mentioned everyone’s concern about a secondary mutation I noticed he was using a grounding technique while April answered. Pressing his fingers into his arm to distract himself.”

The revelation caused an uncomfortable silence to fall over the room. But Don remained quiet as well to give them time with their thoughts. There was no rush anyway, they had time.

“....... So… what? We can’t exactly ship him off to the Ancient One like we did with Leo,” Raphael was the first to speak up, having already run through his own thoughts and not finding an answer to why Don was bringing this all up.

Don had to give a bittersweet chuckle at the thought, and shook his head. “Nothing serious. I just wanted you guys to be aware of it. I know we don’t know them very well, so it’ll be a little hard to tell if he’s not acting like himself. But, if he suddenly gets violent again for no apparent reason I just want you to realize he probably doesn’t recognize it’s you.”

“.... Fair enough,” Leo agreed, still trying to figure out how he felt about the whole topic. He didn’t think the same ‘fix’ for his own issues would work with Leon. But he also didn’t think it was appropriate for them to ask why he was having flashbacks either. There was a question that bubbled up in his mind that he ended up asking though. “...Are any of the others affected as well?”

Don seemed mildly surprised at the question, and had to pause when Raphael voiced his own thoughts that had sprung up with the question. “Mikey said the scars on Donnie’s back were also from their version of Shredder. You don’t think it was caused by the same dude, do ya?”

It was an unexpected fact to hear, but Don just switched his surprised expression for a soft smile. “Not unless Shredder has been harassing them until just recently,” he admitted. “The scars on Donnie’s back are a few years old already. But the ones on the other three; the scars on Leon’s legs, the crack in Leon’s shell, the piece missing from Raph’s shell, his scarred eye, and the… rather odd burn scars on Lil Mikey’s arms are all only a few months old. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were from the same event… And I also wouldn’t be surprised if the others were similarly affected in their mentality. We’re already seen how protective they are of each other.”

Hearing that the scars the teens had were almost all fairly recent gave Raphael a bitter taste in his mouth. While one part of his mind argued that they had seen similar injuries when they were teens, the other part of his mind argued that it didn’t matter, they were still way too young to have to go through something like that. “...The little guy did deliberately avoid talking about his arms when I asked,” he commented, not sure if that was support for or against the possibility of Lil Mikey having trauma like Leon. And he ended up giving a frustrated sigh and rubbed his head. “Man, I feel like I’m gonna have to walk on eggshells around them now. So what? Am I not allowed to ask anything to them now?”

This time Master Splinter was the one who answered, setting his empty cup down and rising to walk over and place a hand on Raphael’s shoulder. “You have always been instinctually aware of the nuances of childrens�� emotions. Trust your instincts, don’t overthink it, and I’m sure you’ll be fine. And remember, an uncomfortable emotion is not necessarily one to be avoided,” he assured, giving Raphael a pat when Raphael’s shoulders relaxed and he gave Master Splinter a reassured smile.

Then Master Splinter turned to Leo, resting a hand on his shoulder as well. “And my advice for you is to have patience. Continue to allow them to come to you instead of you running to and chasing them, as you described to me before.” And then his gaze shifted to Don. “Donatello, be careful with your vast, and wonderful knowledge. Remember that the mind cannot often be treated overnight. Try not to overwhelm them.” Don hadn’t been expecting to be given his own warning. But after Master Splinter mentioned it, he realized that he very easily could have ended up stressing the kids out by unloading too much information on them to try to help. As he sheepishly scratched his cheek Master Splinter looked to Mom April as well. “For our dear April, I suggest giving them their space when they need it. Affection can sometimes be the perfect medicine, but from a stranger sometimes it can only serve to cause distress instead of comfort.”

“...Thanks Master Splinter,” Mom April responded, also appreciating the caution she hadn’t even considered she’d needed.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to make sure those two hooligans haven’t destroyed any furniture or bones. There has been enough surgery for one night,” Master Splinter sighed slightly, giving Leo another pat before he shuffled out of the room, walking stick thumping against the tile.

The three sons chimed in with their own vocal gratitude and well wishes, and after Master Splinter was out of sight Raphael heaved a sigh and flopped onto the table. “Man. Thirty years and he still somehow has the best advice.”

“You said it,” Leo agreed, feeling a mix of relief and also chagrined by what felt like having his flaw called out before he’d even made a mistake.

“Mhmm,” Don chimed with a hum and a nod, returning to the rest of his dinner turned breakfast. “...Do we still have orange juice?”

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Huuuuaaaaagh why does time pass so freaking fast sometimes =<= I totally got caught up in 2 new projects |D that's why the longer delay this time. Wys got me into trying to make a doll of my OCs, and then I started designing a cosplay outfit to try out.....

Anyway 8'D enjoy a little 03 fam only section. Baby Jones having red hair was picked by Wys not knowing what she was choosing between red or black for X'D He's also wearing a dinosaur onsie, compliments of Don.

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #cross dimension kidnapping #tmnt 2003 #rise + 2003 crossover #writing #long post #fanfic #03 April #03 Casey

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matttgirlies · 8 months ago

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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.

#matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturn #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #Spotify

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thestarminstrel · 6 months ago

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don't very often come into the tag to post my thoughts unprompted, but finished challengers and. eugene.

what did pacat do to him.

i already wasn't expecting great things just based on the preview where eugene, my poor boy, just gave a weak thumbs-up at getting benched. but i had faith and hope as foolish as it was.

like, you're telling me that eugene labao who spent years working to get on the fencing team, every year told his mom "this will be the year", and gave a training camp his all just. gives a forced smile at being booted off the team for state?? what?? if pacat wanted to go with a eugene that cares more about the team than his personal resume, fine. okay. but eugene is allowed to be more upset. he should be. he was given everything he dreamed of by williams saying that they could have two reserves, and now it's gone. i don't care how much a team-player you are, that's devastating. especially as a high school junior (in america and australia i GUESS). if you want to go to college for fencing, i imagine the state competition is a great way to get scouted. also, you miss out on fencing with your teammates for the last or second-to-last time. getting benched as a freshman sucks but you got some more years in your high school career. but eugene's a junior, this is his first year on the team, so now he's fencing state maximum once. that's just a cruel stab in the back by williams, genuinely. he should have been given time to be upset onscreen whether it was privately or with friends.

which then, what the fuck williams. you literally said that you could have two reserves- that you FOUGHT for two reserves- and all the sudden eugene can't compete. i never did high school fencing and maybe things are different in australia, but that seems a little ridiculous to me. like wtf did the higher-ups tell her? "yeah you can have two reserves for one competition but that's it" ???????????????? did pacat have an experience like this or something bc i have no clue how that's a logical train of thought a high school sports organizer can have. i will admit that one could argue she's competitive and wants to win. like sure but then why have a second reserve. could she not decide and was always planning to cut nick or eugene depending on who did better at the camp? what kind of coach is that?? none of the other coaches did that - not even donati and she is neck to neck with williams in this rivalry. it doesn't matter how much she wants king's row to have this gold medal- if williams was intentionally doing any of this, uncaring of whether or not she hurts one of the fencing boys, she should not be a coach actually. period. again, i love early fence williams. but oh my god the way she handled this was so bad.

which then brings me to: what is the point of eugene.

i love eugene, he has been one of my favorite characters since 2020 when i first read volumes 1-3. he is one of the reasons why i get so excited about fence and makes me so happy as a character. but honestly? you could cut eugene out of fence and nothing would change. i know he's not haiden or nichoji, but he was put there for a reason that i think pacat forgot. he never has any signficant screentime unless it's to be comedic relief or be a supporting character to nick, the other "underdog" on the fencing team. i really do hate to say it, but reading challengers really made me wish pacat had written out eugene sooner or not written him at all. he's not treated well as a character, and at this point, i don't understand why eugene is even in this story.

another point i want to make is nick. what the hell is wrong with nick. you're telling me that the same nicholas "zero" cox who was about to give up his scholarship and chance to fence so that eugene, a guy he barely knew at the time, could finally be on the team is the same nicholas who only says "but coach--" when eugene gets kicked off the team? that is a terrible friend. i'm not saying nick should have said "i'm not going to state if eugene isn't!!" but he should have called williams out on it, found eugene later and say "dude i'm so sorry this sucks" -- literally ANYTHING!!! but no, nick bever acknowledges it outside of this panel and is too busy at state apparently to notice eugene being bummed about, you know, not fencing with him. it's so, insane to me that nick became this person that doesn't bother checking in on his bro. that tells me he's more concerned about fencing and seiji - which to each his own but i would drop anyone who did me like that. can't even manage a "how r u doing" text what the actual fuCk. i can not stress enough how much i do not like this nick right now.

in conclusion: i need eugene to have a good cry with his mom or his bros about this bullshit and to eat so much good arroz caldo. please save my son from the narrative, it keeps being mean to him :(((

#gah i have so many things i DID like and want to draw but i am traveling eith minimal wifi #like thank god i was in a hotel this week so i DO have access ro wifi to read about my fencing boys and rant about one of them #anyway back to being go n e but hopefully i can doodle when i get back home ;-;#fence comic #fence challengers: long shot #fence challengers spoilers #fence comic spoilers #fence spoilers

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dustbunnylair · 6 months ago

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Hakari and Kirara Dating? Is Kirara a femboy? !Slight JJK Spoilers!

So if you are a part of the Jujutsu Kaisen fanbase then you probably understand what the title means. But, if you are not familiar with these Jujutsu Kaisen characters, I'll try to explain in short.

Kinji Hakari is a man around 18-22 years old, a third-year student who is currently suspended from Jujutsu High. His age is assumed by the average third-grade student ages in Japan, 17-19, but people assume he has been held back a bit because of his appearance. He's a gambler, which also made people assume his age.

Kirara Hoshi is an androgynous character and assumed transwoman/transfem, or also watered down to “femboy”, they are also a third-year student with Hakari (or according to them, “Kin”) who is currently taking a break from Jujutsu High because of Hakari’s absence. They are also assumed to be around 18-22 years old, I personally think they are about 19. Kirara is thought to be either a Demigirl (someone who feels their gender identity partially identifies with a feminine identity, but is not wholly binary, regardless of their assigned gender) a transwoman (MTF) or under the trans umbrella in general, because of the fact that they used to be a boy in junior high but later transitioned to dress more femininely. The image is shown below for proof:

Kirara and Hakari both do not like Jujutsu High due to its conservative members. Both of them have a very close or intimate relationship. Most of the fanbase has assumed they are dating, but then others deny that and think they are “really close best friends” huh, looks like the Jujutsu Kaisen fanbase has some patterns with its ships.

In my opinion, Kirara and Hakari are dating, it's just not explicitly stated. And before someone starts acting like a freakazoid because it's a “gay ship” and we all know shounen anime can't have gay ships, what would we ever do,the world is totally coming to an end because shounen animes are suddenly having implied lgbtqia+ characters?!

Yeah anyway, Hakari and Kirara are not a gay relationship. Why do I think this? Because Hakari has explicitly said he isn't into men. Images are shown below:

I'm not 100% that the above image is not a mistranslation so I'll show the image that I found which is of this panel:

I personally feel Gege will not open up about any shipping or characters of unknown genders within Jujutsu Kaisen, especially because Kirara isn’t the first to be an androgynous character, adding in Uraume. And if Gege does talk about characters' sexualities or genders, he’s probably going to A; pick which makes the fandom more pissed, seeing that he has killed off every likable or popular character, or B; not explicitly talk about it and just say it’s up for the fans interpretation.

The character here, Kirara, uses "Watashi," So them being trans is not completely impossible. “Watashi” is the Japanese neutral "I", appropriate in all contexts, used by men and women, in academia, business, retail, when talking to superiors or strangers or for official purposes. It is humble and formal. Women almost always uses this. And Panda says they are a "boy," because he remembers the earlier person, and in the official Jujutsu school (which is run by conservatives) records, they are registered as a boy.

I think in the Jujutsu Kaisen fandom and fanbase, there is a complete misunderstanding within Japanese media. Japan, and other Asian countries, are not as accepting of lgbtqia+, although other countries also aren’t currently such as America, etc. However, in America you can still easily get lgbtqia+ on screen or in television. However in Japan, it isn’t that easy, especially in Shounen Jump, they can actually get in trouble if they have an explicitly lgbtqia+ character in an anime/manga.

Gege Akutami has already gotten death threats for killing off characters, specifically Gojo, which is so incredibly harmful and is literally the reason why Japanese authors usually hide their identities and use different pen names. Currently, there is no confirmation on Uraume’s and Kirara’s genders. Hakari and Kirara’s relationship and whether certain characters within the show are a part of the lgbtqia+ community also remains unknown. For the time being, if a character is shown to have an unknown gender, or be attracted to the same gender it is implied. I personally don’t think it will ever be confirmed, and if it does get confirmed I think it’ll be when Jujutsu Kaisen is finished. The only implication from Gege himself is that he is a big reader of BL’s (Boys’ Love) however that doesn’t necessarily mean he would bring that into his own stories.

However I think we should all be respectful towards people’s headcanons, if someone wants to headcanon that Uraume is nonbinary, Kirara is a transwoman, Hakari and Kirara are dating, or think that Gojo and Geto are soulmates I think they should be allowed to do so. The only time headcanoning is invalid is when it is problematic, influencing incest, pedophilia, toxic relationships, or contradicts canon, etc.

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whencyclopedia · 2 months ago

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Thomas Jefferson

Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) was an American lawyer, statesman, philosopher, and a Founding Father of the United States. A prominent figure of the American Revolution, he wrote the Declaration of Independence and later served as the first secretary of state, the second vice president, and the third president of the United States (served 1801-1809).

Early Life

Thomas Jefferson was born on 13 April 1743 at Shadwell Plantation in Albemarle County, Virginia. He was the third of ten children born to Peter Jefferson, a wealthy planter and land surveyor, and Jane Randolph Jefferson, a daughter of one of Virginia's most influential families. When Peter Jefferson died in 1757, 14-year-old Thomas inherited 5,000 acres of land as well as 60 enslaved people. From 1758 to 1760, he was privately tutored by Reverend James Maury before going on to the colonial capital of Williamsburg to attend the College of William & Mary. In his first year at college, he spent lavishly on parties, horses, and clothing, but he would soon regret this "showy style of living" (Boles, 18). His second year, therefore, was much more studious; he would apparently spend 15 hours a day at his studies, pausing only to exercise or to practice his violin.

The studious Jefferson soon became the protégé of mathematics professor William Small, who he would fondly remember as "the first truly enlightened or scientific man" he had ever met (Boles, 17). Small introduced Jefferson to the two other great intellectuals in Williamsburg – law professor George Wythe and Lt. Governor Francis Fauquier – and, at their weekly dinner parties, the four men would discuss politics and philosophy, greatly influencing the young Jefferson's political and intellectual development.

After completing his formal studies in 1762, Jefferson remained in Williamsburg to study law under Wythe and was admitted to the Virginia bar five years later in 1767. In 1768, he was elected to the House of Burgesses, representing Albemarle County. That same year, he began construction of a new home atop an 868-foot-high (265 m) mountain that overlooked his plantation. Called Monticello – Italian for "little mountain" – the house became the passion of Jefferson's life, and he would spend the next several decades designing and renovating it. The actual labor, of course, was mostly performed by his slaves; over the course of his lifetime, Jefferson owned approximately 600 enslaved people, most of whom were born into slavery on his property.

In 1772, after several failed romantic pursuits, Jefferson was finally married to the beautiful young widow Martha Wayles Skelton. Five years his junior, Martha shared his passions for literature and music; indeed, they often played music together – she on the harpsichord, he on the violin. The couple would have six children, only two of whom – Martha 'Patsy' (1772-1836) and Mary 'Polly' (1778-1804) – would survive to adulthood. When Jefferson's father-in-law died in 1773, he and Martha inherited 11,000 acres of land and 135 more enslaved people. By then, Jefferson had become involved with Virginia's struggle against Great Britain. Parliament's attempts to tax the colonists without their consent were vehemently opposed by the American Patriots, who saw such taxes as violations of their 'rights as Englishmen'. In 1774, Jefferson argued as much in his A Summary View of the Rights of British America. In it, he asserted that the colonies had the right to govern themselves, that they were tied to the English king only through voluntary bonds and that Parliament had no right to interfere in their affairs. This work earned him recognition as a Patriot leader in Virginia and led to his appointment as a delegate to the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia in the spring of 1775.

Writing the Declaration of Independence

Jean Leon Gerome Ferris (Public Domain)

#History #ThomasJefferson #AmericanRevolution #MarthaJefferson

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livingmybestfakelife · 9 months ago

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Hate It Or Love It

Felix Catton x Reader

Everything was set up for you, new citizenship, new drivers license, and soon enough a new surname, all of it was ready for you to accept, but you weren’t being quick enough to do it, and your fiancé was becoming impatient.

For the past four years you had enjoyed your uni journey, your mother was nervous about you moving overseas, especially for that long. Your father had made you promise to keep in touch often and update them on your studies and to not let yourself forget about where you came from, he knew that Oxford would have a lot of wealthy students, some of who will be bratty and entitled, and though your family was far from being below the poverty line, your dad being a dentist and your mom an art teacher, your parents income combined still didn’t compare to the ones of most of your schoolmates.

Felix made it known from the very beginning that you were someone that was worth being on his radar, you were different than what he would usually be putting effort into, you were American for one, hailing from Yonkers, New York to be specific. He was confused on how nonchalant you were about the world around you, not being gaga about the fancy school and the students that came with it, how even though you weren’t here on a scholarship, your family was still able to afford for you to attend, they invested in your education from the day you were born and you never had to want for anything. As the years went on so did your relationship with Felix and his friend Oliver, the two were thick as thieves and fiercely loyal to their friendship, as wonderful as that was, you wished you would’ve known that it would also be the cause of your despair.

Your beauty was obvious, your personality was immaculate, it was just as easy to make friends and associates in the UK like you always did in the States, and with that came strong jealousy from Felix, the more you made connections the more he felt like you were forgetting about him, it was something he expressed to Ollie many times. And though he was successful at bringing your attention back to him, this time it was different. During your junior year you had met a fellow American student named Deacon Whittaker, he was also from New York, born and raised in Mount Vernon, the city was close to Yonkers and it made you both excited that even when you graduate and move back to America that you wouldn’t be that far away from one another, your home cities less than twenty minutes apart from one another.

Deacon was handsome, charming and very intelligent, the both of you looked to be the movie star looking power couple if you were his girlfriend instead of Felix’s . Your friendship started slow, you liked the idea of taking time to get to know each other and you managed to make it easy, so easy that you forgotten the ones you met when you moved here existed half of the time. You felt some guilt that you missed some calls, cancelled some planned meet ups and only stayed at Saltburn half of that summer, spending the other half in New York with yours and Deacon’s family, it hurt to see you pack your things and leave him, Felix had a lot of plans thought out and Deacon just had to go and ruin them, it was happening one, two, three too many times for his liking, he had you first, hell even Ollie, Venetia and Farleigh didn’t enjoy you forgetting about them, it would all have to end sooner or later.

By the time your senior year finally rolled around he had finally broke, he could no longer keep up the fake smiles and forced handshakes with Deacon, you were his girl, his one true love, the one person he’d give up everything for if it made you happy, now was the perfect time.

You and Deacon were coming back from your weekend in Edinburgh, you spent it there with some mutual friends from Oxford and now you’re ready to settle back into your dorms, but before you could his car unexpectedly got pulled over, after being asked for his license, Deacon asked what was the reason for the stop, he was sure he was following the traffic laws and knew he did anything else wrong, that was when the cop told him to step out of the car, he asked again in confusion what the issue was, that only pissed the officer off and made him open his door his door and practically drag him out.

“Hey! What is the problem? I didn’t do anything!”

“SHUT UP”

That’s when you got out of the car, you haven’t been this afraid in a good while

“Officer please what is the issue? He was being compliant!”

He ignored you and put him in the back of the police vehicle, all of your questions fell on deaf ears to him, he spoke to you as if you were some sort of victim, you didn’t understand where all of this was coming from.

After what felt like ages, a familiar vehicle pulled up beside the both of you, and when the windows were rolled down you saw not one but two people who you couldn’t understand would even be here.

“Felix?….Ollie? What’s going on?”

“Officer Jennings, thank you for your help”

“No problem Mr. Catton”

You rushed over to him “Felix! Please talk to him, he has Deacon in the back of his car in cuffs like a violent criminal, he didn’t do anything and he won’t tell me why he arrested him!”

He let out a heavy exhale and stepped out of the car along with Ollie following behind, he had a woeful expression and reached out to try to bring you into his car but you jerked away.

“Felix, what is going on? Let go of me!”

“What’s going on is that Deacon nicked some very valuable items from Saltburn, over a million pounds worth” Ollie said

“W-what? No no no he didn’t it’s no way”

Officer Jennings walked up behind you “It’s true Ms. YLN, we have strong evidence that while Mr. Whittaker visited Saltburn with you two months ago, he stole some valuable antiquities and heirlooms and attempted to sell them at some auction houses”

You looked back towards Felix “Please Felix, you know that isn’t true, he wouldn’t do this”

“He would if my family says he did”

“W-what?”

It was Ollie’s turn to elaborate some more.

“Come on YN you’re smarter than this”

“Felix, you can’t do this, you know this isn’t right!”

“It’s your choice YN, you know that Felix will always give you some say in your life…what’s it going to be? You end your friendship with Deacon cutting absolutely all ties with him and we all go back to who we once were, or your mate will have the book thrown at him, what’s it going to be?”

You broke down and cried while trying to talk some sense into the both of them, you knew Felix was envious of your connection to Deacon, but you never expected it to go this far, to use his status to ruin an innocent person’s life and reputation, he could be petty, but this was just plain evil.

“Felix….please”

“You heard what Ollie said sweetheart, what’s your decision?”

You looked over to see Deacon with an expression of both anger and grief, he wanted to bust out of the cuffs, jump out of the car and beat Felix Catton to a bloody pulp, but that could only be achieved in his wildest dreams, in reality he was one of many victims who would feel the wrath of Felix’s jealously and entitlement, you were it for him, and he’d be damned if he let anyone interfere with his plans for your future together.

“Okay Felix, alright, it’s over okay, I’m yours” you stand on the tips of your toes to peck his lips to really butter him up, you needed this to work, you couldn’t let your friend’s life to be ruined over this.

“That’s my sweet girl, I knew you’d put me first”

He gave you the sloppiest kiss, making sure it was in eyesight of your dear friend who ended up looking away in anger, once he finally pulled away he out and arm over your shoulder and guided you to the passenger side while Ollie sat in the back seat.

Officer Jennings let Deacon go while Felix slowly drove off, making it obvious that he was rubbing it in that there was nothing he can do to stop this, a tear rolled down your cheek as you made a silent final goodbye to him and the car made a bit of speed up the road and out of the area.

“Don’t be upset YN, we’re just helping you keep your promise to your dad to not forget where you came from” Ollie said behind you, you silently shudder at his voice and continue to look out the window, dreading your journey back with your fiancé and one the best friends you dared to neglect.

#felix catton imagine #felix catton #saltburn #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you

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themoonweaversden · 5 months ago

Text

Messeges that were found so far: STOD EHT TCENNOC (spoilers)

This is just to collect all the codes that you can type in in thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com and their effects only (please click images for better quality)

I am so sorry if the transcripts in these are't the best, it's A LOT and my mind doesn't understand what's writing anymore

Masterpost with all messeges / codes

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

Have you ever heard of Orchard Lake, Kansas? Chances are you haven’t. It was erased from every map, book, and historical record, and the US Government’s official position on it is “stop calling us or we’ll send a drone to your house.” (I learned this the hard way.) But if you drive to the exact latitude and longitude of [REDACTED] you’ll see bullet casings, faded billboards, and bow ties strewn across the desert sands.

That’s because Orchard Lake had another name before it was wiped off the record: BillVille.

CHAPTER 3: BillVille The First Cult In History That Was Right

[image]

FIG A: A tumbillweed

As a historian of esoteric religions, I thought I’d discovered the strangest sects America had yet to offer (see “Chapter 3: Kevin’s Gate”) but that all changed when I found the following items tucked away in an old trunk in an estate sale on the outskirts of Bootstrap, Missouri."

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

"3/24/1957

Mother, I have the most wonderful news! Remember when you said I should stop being “such a follower” and finally think for myself? Well—turns out you were right! I’ve decided to stop following Elvis’ tour bus from state to state and instead I’ve made the exciting life decision to sell all my possessions to buy a one-way ticket to [REDACTED] and marry 138 of my new best friends! We’ve discovered the eternal secrets of the Universe, and golly it feels keen! For the first time in my life, I am happy!

Remember reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, buy gold, and bye forever!

Your daughter, Shelter Martha Jones Starshine Cipherwife

P.S. You’ve just gotta check out this neato pamphlet!"

FIG B: Letter and pamphlet advertising “Ciphertology.” Was found along with pins, buttons, ephemera. Smells like formaldehyde."

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

After reading this pamphlet, I became obsessed. Who were the Ciphertologists?

It seems in 1952 a failed travelling snake oil salesman “Silas Birchtree” was hiding from creditors when he choked on a coin he was flipping and died. Then, remarkably, the next day, he was seen alive. His posture, his smile, the pallor of his skin had all changed. It was as if another man entirely was wearing Silas like a suit. Whatever caused this transformation, the new Silas hit Orchard Lake, Kansas like a comet.

[TRANSCRIPT, FIRST AUDIO RECORDING FOUND OF SILAS BIRCHTREE GIVING A SPEECH IN THE TOWN SQUARE OF ORCHARD LAKE, KANSAS]

“Say, folks, gather round, thank you ma’am, spit out that gum, junior. My names Silas Birchtree, and I was just passing through when I noticed a very pressing problem: This town only has three wells! Well, well, well, that won’t hold water! (townsfolk laugh) But seriously plasma bags, if you’re dim enough to laugh at that tripe then you’re going to love what I’m about to shove down your throats: The secrets of the universe! I may look like an meat automoton but I was recently granted otherworldly insight into the nature of reality by an all-seeing eye named Bill Cipher. You have primal needs for chaos that are being repressed! Destroying is a form of creating! Assert your will in defiance of entropy! Punch through the throats of your oppressors and baptize yourself in their blood! Doesn’t that sound swell? Yes I said swell, and that rhymes with L, and that stands for “Let me Marry All Your Wives!”

-Silas Birchtree, 1952

It didn’t seem to matter what Silas said, folks were mesmerized by his rambling stream of consciousness diatribes. It wasn’t long before he became local news."

Treanscript:

"THE ORCHARD LAKE CORNHUSK "A suitable distraction from your toils." June 18, 1952 | 5 CENTS

CULT COMES TO TOWN Fans of Cults Pleased, Cult Skeptics Skeptical

Two things are on the rise this week in Orchard Lake! The sweet, sweet corn-bread cooling in Mrs. Butternubbins windowsill, and the terrifying cult that threatens to tear our town asunder. And asunder is one of the worst things you can be torn! Springing forth seemingly overnight, these bow-tie wearing brainwashees call themselves the Ciphertologists, and they answer to one man, the charismatic and extremely jaundiced Silas BirchTree. Town sentiment is divided as to whether this new religion can be trusted, but all agree this seems to be the most significant event in our town since a bat fell in the deep fryer at the waffle house. We spoke to townsfolk to gauge the local sentiment.

...WHAT THE PEOPLE SAY...

Darla Laudanum, Housewife: "Well, I don’t see what the big fuss is! Everyone’s entitled to their opinions, and Silas is no different. Why, I remember when everyone was worried that “Hula Hoops” were going to turn our children into Communists. But we only had to report 3 children!"

Gus Gunderson, Painter: "I ‘spose he’s got a funny way of talkin’, shore ‘nuff, but he promised me I’d live forever on my own moon, which beats my current job at the paint store. He also said he’d teach me to explode people with my mind. My mother ‘n law had better watch out!"

Madeline Dixon, Teenager: "He’s fine, I guess. It’s not like I replaced the picture of James Dean in my locket with him or anything. What? No you can’t look inside the locket, this is a personal locket!"

Emmaline Butternubbins, Spoilsport: "I’m telling you! He’s a human corpse puppeteered by a space triangle and he’s come to build an unholy astral pyramid from mortal realm beyond mortal understanding! Gather up your swords and arrows, let us slay the beast in mans form before he slays us!"

Can You "Dig It?" Hey Daddio! Are you hoppin mad about the piles of youth that are buckling your Chevy’s pad to the winner? Dig this jive! A keen new shovel that all the hep cats are using to flip those big Ricks right out of the sock hop! Man, you know what it is called!

“HIPPADDY RENZADDY’S SUPER-KEENHOOT SCOOP!”

It’s me, “Hip Daddy” Renzaddy! 50 years ago my great grandpappy Renzaddy toppled a pile of stones to death to avenge his death! The eternal war on man’s sin rages on!

5 CENTS OFF!

Teen Accused of "Rocking Around the Clock," Faces Trial ... (PG 3) Joseph McCarthy Arrests Suspicious Pez Dispenser (PG 5)"

Trascript:

"PAGE 2 THE ORCHARD LAKE CORNHUSK, JUNE 18, 1952 INTERVIEW WITH A PROPHET

Our lead reporter Welton Danforth sat down with the enigmatic leader to gain some insight into his holy mission. When they sat down to speak, the controversial religious leader was staring at his hands laughing as he wiggled his fingers.

Silas: Fingers! Wow, there’s just so many of these things! How do you keep track? Hey could someone get me a swig of formaldehyde?

Welton: Good evening. I have never seen a man open his eyes as wide as yours before. What exactly is going on with your face?

Silas: My face is normal! Next question!

Welton: (laughing) Well there’s that charm I’ve heard so much about. Move over, Johnny Carson! Tell me, how do you respond to accusations that the Ciphertologists are a cult?

Silas: Yes!

Welton: So you don’t deny it?

Silas: Look slick, everyone believes in something they can’t prove. Football players believe in “points.” Cops believe in “laws.” Priests believe in “sin.” But show me a law, a point, a sin. You can’t, they’re just ideas. So if you’re going to follow something invisible, why not follow the invisible Triangle that will give you your own planet and crush your enemies into a small screaming cube.

Welton: You’re awfully quick with a turn of phrase, but many others with silver tongues have claimed to be the messiah. What makes you any different?

Silas: Fair point! You know, you’re very perceptive. Has your wife told you that lately?

Welton: (pause) No. No… Janet has not. We are… going through a rough patch.

Silas: Must be hard. All those long nights on the couch, wondering what went wrong.

Welton: Yes… but, how did you know all that?

Silas: I know lots of things, Jack! And I know that when you die at 72 from a goose crashing into your head on a roller coaster, your last thought is gonna be that you wasted your life interviewing hick farmers instead of becoming that great novelist you always dreamed of being! That unfinished novel in your desk drawer…

Welton: …The Reporter Who Went To Mars?

Silas: It could be the greatest book of all time. But you’ll need someone to help you reach your full potential. I think I know a guy! By the way, I’ll need 1,000 dollars immediately.

Welton: Can I give you my watch as a down payment?

Silas: Fine, but only because I like you. Anyway, where were we? Oh right! I was interviewing you. Tell me, how long have you been a Ciphertologist?

Welton: Well, I suppose as of 5 seconds ago, but it already feels like much longer, Mr. Birchtree.

Silas: Please, call me “My Lord And Master.”

Welton: Yes, My Lord and Master. Do you have anything else to add before you go?

Silas: Only this, and I mean it sincerely: HAHAHA-HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA (cont’d)"

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

[2 images]

Within a month, The Ciphertologists had taken City Hall, renamed Orchard Lake "BillVille" and began stockpiling weapons, human teeth, and multi-colored ball-pit balls from burger restaurants. Townsfolk began shaving their heads and inhaling helium to match the pitch of their leader's shrill charismatic voice, and would participate in "Dream-Ins" inviting Silas's muse "Bill Cipher" to "possess" of up to 30 of them at once, at which point they would often laugh in unison for hours. Construction began of the "Very Normal Giant Metal Portal" in the desert. Travel was banned coming in and out, even for medical emergencies since, as Silas explained, "pain is hilarious!" They began to expand, knocking on doors to spread "The Bad News."

[image]

FIG C: It was pretty easy to spot a Ciphertologist. Can you see what makes them stand out? That's right - their enthusiastic smiles!

[image]

FIG D: The "Golden Bastard" apple, grown only by Ciphertologists, reportedly "screamed" when you ate it."

Transcript: (this one is really weird to trascribe, so sorry if it's difficult to understand)

"THERE’S ONE “EYE” IN TEAM! Can you find it?

In Ciphertology, we encourage you to express your individuality, just like Silas does! That means strict conformity to his exact wardrobe, or else being sent to “The Hole.” You won’t like the hole!

KEEP AN EYE OPEN!

SHAVE A SPOT FOR BILL TO ENTER!

POSTURE

TUCK YOUR SHIRT IN! Order is a Trojan horse for chaos!

GREASE YOUR SHOES! Are you done? ADD MORE GREASE! And MORE!

(Image of two people in matching outfits doing Ciphertologist poses)

Pocket full of yummy glass!

Not pictured - The hot brand we will sear into your flesh. Which part of your body will we brand? It’s weirder than you think!

Did you know?: Therapy is a scam to keep you from the truth. Lean into your natural born mental illness to unlock your true potential!

GO DOOR TO DOOR! SPREAD THE JOY LIKE A DISEASE!

Follow this script to convert the non-billievers!

Hi! Do you have one minute to talk about the triangle who lives in your brain and has seen you naked? . YES → GOOD! The old gods are dead, and BILL ATE THEM! Dig it? . NO → Stare at them until they start crying.

Are you ready to accept him into your mind? . YES → (Continue script) . NO → Eat one of your own fingers in front of them. Don’t break eye contact.

Raise your arms and shriek a perfect E note in the 8th octave at 5,243 Hz. Their skull will shatter. Like a wine glass!

Great! Your new name is: ________________(SEE GUIDE TO CHOOSING CIPHERTOLOGY NAME PG 6) What size robe are you? __________________SEE YOU AT THE WAFFLE HOUSE! (Do Cipher Handshake, devour pamphlet, crawl away upside down)

WEIRDMEGEDDON IS COMING. WEIRDMEGEDDON IS COMING. WEIRDMEGEDDON IS COMING.

CIPHERTOLIGIST'S GUIDE TO DELIGHTSOMENESS, 1952"

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

[image]

ABOVE: The Ciphertology “Brain Seismograph” or “BS” Meter had dials for “gullibility,” “financial liquidity,” “celebrity influence,” “herbs,” and “spices.”

The cult surged in popularity and influence. Silas’s motto “embrace today as if your town is going to be hit by a tornado in exactly 3 & a half years!” was infectious, and he immediately ended all crime by declaring that “everything is legal now!”

[image]

Soon the only unconverted local was unmarried town nag Emmaline Butternubbins. She was convinced there was something “not right” about the mysterious megalomaniacal cult leader. Her protests escalated to her distributing these home-made warning pamphlets to very annoyed children.

[image]

“Most people rejected Emmaline’s message. They hated her because she told the truth” —Emmaline, to her cat Bonbon."

Transcript:

"LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

Conflict became inevitable. When Silas hijacked a local TV station to read an “erotic tale of two trapezoids,” Elk Glen filed a complaint with the FCC. Cipherologists retaliated by pouring 600 gallons of bubble solution in their drinking water. Soon the law became involved.

“Blrbl bll Tbllbl Ciphertobblblblblb” - Hurk Durnsley, Oak Glen City Council

The Cipherologists were ordered to return City Hall, dismantle the “Portal” they were building out of scrap metal and car parts, or face the full force of the Kansas State Troopers. The standoff lasted 13 days, with Silas and his die hard followers holed up in a waffle house chanting “TEETH” over and over again for reasons unknown. Silas was becoming increasingly agitated and erratic, blocking all radio and TV signals into town and ordering his followers to hurry construction of his mysterious metallic project. His body was also looking increasingly pale and desiccated, which he ascribed to his “fantastic diet” of eating nothing but “solid chunks of chlorine and ants.”

BILLVILLE DAILY NEWS June Billeteeth, Billtee-Fifty-Bill PORTAL NEARLY COMPLETE EVERYONE THRILLED, EVEN THE GOVERNMENT! (DO NOT TURN ON YOUR TELEVISION)"

Transcript:

"Finally Emmaline Butternubbins, enraged that no one liked her pamphlets, hurled a torch into the CipherTologists HQ, igniting the helium tanks, blasting out the windows and destroying Silas’s machine. Troopers opened fire as Silas’s followers held hands and began singing “WE’LL MEET AGAIN” in defiance. Silas, riddled with bullet holes, grabbed a megaphone, leapt atop the inferno, grinning wildly as he was engulfed in flame.

“YOU CAN’T KILL A MAN WHO’S ALREADY DEAD! IF YOU TAKE ME DOWN, I’LL BE BACK, MORE POWERFUL AND MORE ANNOYING THAN YOU CAN POSSIBLY IMAGINE! REMMEBER- REALITY-”

At this point, Silas Birch Tree’s head fell off, flies swarmed from his mouth and he collapsed into a grey husk. A coroner declared Silas BirchTree dead for a second time. Black helicopters evacuated the site and the city was erased from all official records. Mrs Butternubbins was awarded the Medal of Honor, which she used as an ashtray.

On the Lighter Side “QUIRKY NEWS!” CULT DISBANDED, 9 DEAD Slow news day? Well we gotta fill these pages somehow! In an oddball story that’s definitely out there a remote Orchard Lake’s homespun cult committed a laundry list of heinous crimes. Trashed walls, buildings, and tank-wielding federal agents stormed the “Cipherologists” headquarters. The panic escalated as the “Cipherologists” leader offered everyone a bag of candy and destroyed the stockade on a rented lemon- but just gave everyone you love from the ability to express their emotions. We are out of terrible diarrhea. It is unclear if this was his intention or not. We are out of things to say in this piece, no one really cares what happens in Kansas."

Transcript:

"ONLY KNOWN PHOTO OF SILAS'S BODY, 1952"

Transcript: "LESSER KNOWN AMERICAN CULTS

Although BillVille has faded into urban legend, hidden remnants remain for those who know where to look. It is even said that there are straggling members out there, still holding out hope for Silas’s return.

(RIGHT: IRONIC T-SHIRT SOLD ONLINE)

In cults, this is a common phenomenon. Human beings are so hungry for a confident voice to guide them in an uncertain world, that they’ll follow anyone, even a madman, wherever he goes. Usually off a cliff.

But there was something different about Silas Birchtree. The more I research, the more of his predictions I’ve seen coming true. Recently I was going through old records when I found Silas’s final words, tucked away in a lost letter he wrote before the standoff, a message unseen until now.

His message was:

“At least this will make a fun chapter of your book, Donna!”

My name is Donna Rutherford. Yesterday, I was a Lutheran. As of today, I am a Ciphertologist.

[CODE]"

Code decoded: "YOUCANTKILLANIDEA"

#bill cipher #book of bill #gravity falls #thisisnotawebsitedotcom

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