#Officer Fidel Best

[doctorfriend79]

🍻 Cheers! 🍻

[robsheridan]

Nine Inch Nails The Fragile released 25 years ago today. Here’s a 1999 digital camera photodump from the months surrounding the album’s release; a surreal, transformative time in my young life. Words can’t describe what it was like, but these photos and textures bring back the strangest hazy memories that feel like a dream: Not even a year out of high school, moving to New Orleans to work for my heroes as they were in the final year of recording a dense, challenging masterpiece of an album. Not everyone was ready for The Fragile at the time, but it now stands as one of the seminal works of pre-millennium art. If you’ve never experienced it, or haven’t in a while, it deserves a focused, solitary beginning-to-end listening in the highest fidelity, on your best sound system, at the loudest volume.

1: Recording The Fragile, Nothing Studios. 2: Various Fragile concept art by David Carson, Nothing Studios. 3: Gear, Nothing Studios. 4: Early NIN website concept screenshot. 5: Control Room A, Nothing Studios. 6: Live room, Nothing Studios. 7: The Fragile printer proofs, David Carson’s office, NYC. 8: Meeting with David Carson in his office, NYC. 9: Mixes, Nothing Studios. 10: Recording journals, Nothing Studios. 11: Filming the “We’re In This Together” video, Guadalajara, Mexico. 12: Band rehearsals, Bahamas. 13: Gear, Nothing Studios. 14: Robin Finck, Nothing Studios. 15: Charlie Clouser and Danny Lohner, band rehearsals, Nothing Studios. 16: The Day The World Went Away artwork, Nothing Studios. 17: MTV Awards rehearsals, NYC. 18: Skull, Nothing Studios. 19: Control Room B, Nothing Studios. 20: Various images posted to nin dot com teasing The Fragile in the months prior to its release.

[foundress0fnothing]

what lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why

Summary: Elain and Lucien make a bargain. When it's time to call it in, however, neither of them remembers what it is—or that they made one in the first place.

Part 1/2. 4.5k words. Read here on ao3 or below the cut!

For Elucien Week 2024. Thanks to the organizers @elucienweekofficial for putting together such a wonderful event!

Title from Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem of the same name. So many thanks and hugs to @areyoudreaminof for betaing this and assuring me that the vibes were good!

By all accounts, it had been a perfect ceremony. Nesta looked beautiful in an elegant gown of ivory lace and silk and Cassian had gotten misty-eyed when he saw her. The two of them professed their love and fidelity in a heart-wrenchingly tender exchange of vows. They had commandeered the River House for the day, turning the front lawn into a lush expanse of trees and fae lights and flowers. There had been heartfelt speeches and strong drinks and delicious food, and now everyone was on the dance floor, celebrating all that they loved after coming so close to losing everything. Nesta and Cassian held each other as they danced slowly, lost to anyone other than their mate; Feyre and Rhys had left Nyx in the care of Nuala and Cerridwen, so they too were smiling happily (if tiredly) as they swayed to the music; even Nesta’s new friends Emerie and Gwyn had managed to make it to the ceremony despite all they had endured, apparently escorted by Mor and Azriel, both of whom hung closely to the females as they moved through the party, talking and laughing together easily. 

And there was Elain. Sweet, simple, quiet Elain, who, hovering at the edge of the dance floor by herself and looking at all the happy couples, wanted nothing more right then than a drink and to be miserable all by her sweet, simple, quiet self. 

No one had noticed her fade into the background of the party as she moved across the lawn, straightening the flower arrangements she had put together early that morning until she reached the doorway that would lead her back into the River House. She stepped through without looking back to see if anyone was watching. No one would be, but still—she didn’t want anyone to think her behavior strange if they did happen to glance her way. After all, there was nothing strange about her ducking into the house for a moment. Even if anyone saw her, they would forget her in a moment. As usual.

Once inside, she walked down the hall toward Rhys’ office. The door was closed over, but a quick push with her hip opened it easily. Rhys rarely locked it nowadays; the worst had happened and he still had his happy ending—why should he worry about an unlocked door?

But since he was the reason she didn’t have her own happy ending—not with Graysen, not with Azriel, not with anyone else—the least he could do was supply her with some disgustingly expensive alcohol of his to get through an evening of mated couples menacing her with their sheer presence.

He kept his best liquor in the shelf behind his orrery, and she let her fingers ghost over intricately wrought planets as she gently pushed the model aside to survey the bottles in his collection. They came from all across Prythian—ice wine from Winter, blackberry brandy from Summer, coffee liqueur from Dawn, fire whiskey from Autumn, honey mead from Day. He even had a few scant bottles of elderflower and lilac wine from Spring and a sloe gin from Illyria that she knew from past experience was better as an antiseptic than something to ingest.

Her eyes caught on a bottle in the corner. Its label was richly colored with maroons and browns and golds, and featured an illustration of a rushing waterfall in the middle of an autumnal forest. The bottle was mostly full, and the amber liquid inside seemed to burn with a fire that seemed to match the inferno Elain felt raging in her chest.

Making her decision, she grabbed the bottle by the neck and stalked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

She wended her way through the house to a small staging room that was just off of the kitchen. It was very rarely used—what use was a staging room in a house where the food just appeared with a snap of the high lord’s fingers? But it was lovely—the walls were painted a soft, muted green, and there was a comfortable loveseat tucked into the back corner behind the counters and tables. Elain had quietly, unofficially, claimed it as her hiding place, shifting plants and a small vanity a few favorite books into it until it resembled an oasis that she could retreat to when Feyre’s nosiness and Rhys’ highandedness and Nyx’s infant chaos grew to be too much for her to handle. 

And today, more than ever, Elain wanted some sort of escape. 

She flopped ungracefully down on one of the loveseats, not caring if the silk of her dress got wrinkled. So what if it did? It’s not like Elain was going back out there to try and find some male for the night. With her luck, they would all be mated anyway. Sighing, she pulled out the stopper on the whiskey and lifted the bottle directly up to her lips, taking a long sip and relishing the way it burned as it went down her throat—fire and smoke and peat and honey all at once. 

She waited until the sensation went away, and then she took another sip. And then another one. And then—

“You’re missing the party.” A voice from the doorway stopped her from taking another drink.

Elain didn’t have to turn to look at who it was. She knew his voice, and his scent, and his heartbeat, alluring and intoxicating and branded into the very marrow of her bones.

And she was too tired to care to guard herself against his pull. 

“Well done.” Elain finally turned to look at her mate, her eyes taking a moment to focus after she stopped moving. Lucien was lovely, she acknowledged petulantly. He was tall and surprisingly broad, facts highlighted by the close cut of the forest green suit he wore in honor of the festivities. His hair had been pulled away from his face in an array of intricate braids, and she noticed a few earrings winking at the tips of his pointed ears. Even the scar that cut across his eye, brutal as it was, only added to his allure and gave him a rakish look whenever he smiled. All together it was unfairly disarming, and Elain channeled some of her frustration into her tone as she continued sarcastically. “You caught me.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Another brilliant observation.” For a male with one eye. Not that she would ever say that to his face. That would be rude.

He raised an eyebrow. …Had she said it aloud. She grimaced slightly. Maybe she was much drunker than she realized.

“Do you want me to—should I leave?”

“Everyone always does.” She raised the bottle in his direction before bringing it back to her mouth and taking a long pull, deciding that the sharp sting in her eyes was from the burn of the whiskey and nothing else.

He hesitated in the doorway, clearly uncertain. Not that Elain could imagine why—it’s not like he had made any effort to stay in the same room as her before, always flitting off to see Feyre or Rhys or the humans he knew outside of Prythian. “Is it better if I stay?”

“Do what you want, Lucien.” Elain said it dismissively, but she saw him shudder as the sound of his name washed over him. 

“And what do you want, Elain?” He whispered the question, but she still felt it resonate inside her, the sound of her name and the offer of a choice foreign and familiar and far too exhilarating all at once. Half-consciously, she rubbed at her chest where the resonance felt strongest.

She didn’t want to let go of that feeling. Not yet, at least.

“Have a drink.” She held the half-full bottle out to him as she shifted on the loveseat, making just enough room for his larger frame to perch on the chair without having to touch her.

He sat down and studied the bottle, huffing slightly in pleased surprise. “I haven’t had this in years.”

Elain didn’t say anything at all as he continued turning the bottle of whiskey over in his hand, lost in the past for a moment. It wasn’t her place—and she didn’t trust drunk Elain to approach any revelations that prying might reveal with anything even approximating tact.

He roused himself after a few moments. “Cheers.” He took a long sip, leaning against his side of the chair and closing his eyes as the whiskey hit his tongue to savor the flavors. She wondered if it tasted the same to him—a smoky, peaty, cleansing burn—or if it was more to him somehow. 

Elain thought about asking, but he interrupted her musings with a wry, “Tastes like home,” and she snorted. That was her question answered, then.

She waved for him to pass the liquor back to her, and they sat in silence for a while, taking turns with the whiskey until only a few fingers remained.      

It was easy being there with him—a fact that Elain relished and resented in equal measure. It was nice and objectively the best day she had had in far longer than she’d prefer to acknowledge. But it wasn’t fair—she had made her choices about love. Twice! And both times she had ended up with nothing but hardship and betrayal and shame. 

And this, sitting and sipping whiskey silently with Lucien, was easy. Because he was her ‘mate.’ Well, fuck that, Elain thought petulantly. She was sick of mates. And how annoying it was that he of all people was the only one to offer her any kind of choice? Honestly.

“It’s just that,” Elain started, feeling the need to voice some explanation as to why she had been hiding and drinking, “I wanted a choice. And this is what I get.” She held the bottle of whiskey in her hand and gestured vaguely in the direction of the party before taking another sip and slumping against the arm of the loveseat.

Lucien motioned for the bottle, and she passed it back. Her head swum as she leaned forward, and she giggled at the way the room seemed to shimmer golden at its edges. 

He raised an eyebrow and said, before taking a drink, “We’re alike in that, my lady.” He swayed slightly, and Elain was glad to see that he was catching up to her. “What choices have I ever had?”

“That’s very bleak,” Elain chided him.

“Sorry, did you expect that this,” he said, gesturing to his face, “came from a happy story?”

“I don’t know the story.”

“Surely you’ve heard—”

“Not from you.”

He paused for a moment, thinking. “Another time.”

She nodded easily, happy enough to let the story remain unspoken. She did know it—or knew as much as Feyre knew, anyway—and besides, she didn’t want to push if it would disturb the peace that had settled between them.

But she was still thinking about bonds and love and choices, and so she asked, quietly, “Would you choose this?”

Lucien tilted his head, blinking to focus his eyes as he tried to make sense of her question. “Choose what? You? The mating bond?”

Elain hummed in agreement.

“It’s a mating bond.” He looked at her like she was stupid, and she scowled slightly, irritated at his answer.

“But you…there have been—there are—others? Right?”

“I’m 300 years old. Of course—”

“And that’s another thing!” She exclaimed, unsteadily pushing herself to sit upright. “I’m only 24! What time have I had?” 

Lucien snorted and took another drink from the now almost-empty bottle, muttering, “Enough time to fuck it up twice, apparently.”

“Oh, fuck you.” She shoved his shoulder and yanked the whiskey out of his hands. She was done sharing if he was going to be like that.

But she wasn’t mad, not really. The whiskey had made her brain a little too floaty to harbor any real irritation. And it’s not like he was wrong exactly. Although she was mortified that he apparently knew about Azriel.

He smirked at her as she settled back against her side of the loveseat, aware that she was more amused than angry.

Elain wrinkled her nose at his smug expression and titled the bottle of whiskey up to finish off the last few swallows. It still burned going down, although the sensation had dulled since her first few sips. She lazily extended her arm to set it on the ground with a gentle clink, and when she looked up, she saw Lucien watching her curiously. 

“Would you be ready?” He asked.

“For what?”

“To accept the bond. If you’re tired of being alone.” He said it casually while looking up at the ceiling, as if he had no real stake in the answer. 

She wondered if he was trying to avoid scaring her off. She didn’t want to leave—she was too comfortably boneless and warm and hazy to really want to get up. And where would she go anyway? It’s not like she had anywhere else to be except the party. Besides, she couldn’t fault him for asking the question—she had brought up the topic of them being mates in the first place after all. But she didn’t know how to answer him. Was she ready? Tonight had been…good…but still. “I—would you?”

“I don’t want it gone. So–I could be.” Lucien glanced at her and shrugged.

Elain rolled her eyes. “But are you? Actually?” He opened his mouth to answer, and she sat up, raising her finger in his face and cutting him off before he could start. “And don’t lie, I’ll know.”

“I have—” He paused and looked away from her again. “There are the humans.”

“Oh?” Elain studied his face carefully. He still hadn’t looked back at her, but she could see something fond and hopeful in the corner of his eyes and the set of his mouth. His next words weren’t a surprise then.

“They make me happy.”

She wanted to be glad for him, truly. He had found love—he had chosen love. But his statement made something jealous and possessive spark in her chest. He was hers, that jealousy inside her seethed. And she hated that he made her feel this way because of the stupid mating bond. But she was drunk and bold and pissed, so she bit out, with a tone that would have made even Nesta cringe at its coldness, “Then why aren’t they here to celebrate with you?”

Lucien turned his gaze back to her and frowned. “You know why. It would be…impolite.”

“Because of me,” Elain finished, slumping backwards into the loveseat again until she was almost horizontal. She could feel the brush of his legs against hers from where she had splayed them out to encroach onto his side of the chair. The feral possessiveness ebbed slightly at his acknowledgement of their bond and the physical contact, but she was still angry. And she hated how good it felt to touch him. And, gods, she wanted another drink. The edges of her vision were still fuzzy, but she needed something that tasted like fire going down and could burn away the angry ache in her chest when she thought of Lucien and the humans.

He visibly swallowed, and Elain couldn’t tell if it was from their touching or some guilt about the humans in the face of her anger. Her stupid, mate-and-whiskey-clouded brain refused to move past them, and so she probed. “So you’re here alone.” 

She must have sounded too pleased at that fact, because Lucien raised a judgmental eyebrow and smiled meanly. “As alone as you are, my lady.”

Elain scowled at him. “Well, I’m tired of being aloneeeee.” She let herself draw out the last word into a whine, savoring the petulant tone that she knew her sisters would have smacked her for if they had been there in the room with them. It had always annoyed them when she used it to get her way growing up.

And it clearly had the same effect on Lucien, whose judgemental eyebrow shifted into a full sneer. “You’re telling me that you’re tired of being alone? I’m your mate. You could say the word and not be alone today.”

She sniffed at his tone. “That makes you sound pathetic.”

He shoved her legs away from his and said, as she tried to avoid slipping off the loveseat, “I thought you were supposed to be the nice one. You get mean when you’re drunk.”

She smiled fakely as she kicked her legs back out, making sure to connect with his shin before letting her calves settle against his. “Just with you.” And, she thought to herself as he scowled and rubbed at what would certainly be a bruise on his leg, that’s what you get for falling in love with someone else but coming to drink with me. 

A ribbon of satisfaction burned through her at the spiteful thought, while at the same time, some rational part of her brain cringed. She hated how nonsensical it all was—wanting a choice and wanting him all at once. 

And then she had a brilliant idea. She had read about it in one of the novels that Nesta had left lying around the townhouse—a couple that agreed to come back together after taking time apart. The book had been silly but the plan? It would be perfect for them.

“Okay, what if,” she said, hauling herself to a more normal sitting position, although she mourned the loss of contact between them. “What if we made a bargain?”

Lucien was still rubbing his leg, but he asked, “A bargain? Why?”

“For each other.” He looked at her skeptically, and she huffed. “And they call you the cunning one.”

“How would a bargain—we’re already mates, Elain. We can just accept the bond.”

She shivered at the sound of her name on his lips again, but ignored it to explain, “But we would choose it.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“Well, you’re not listening.” She leaned over to him and put her hands on either side of his face to draw him in close to her until their noses were almost touching so she would know he was paying attention.

But seeing his face like this captivated her, stilling the words in her mouth for a moment. His right eye, although it was a little bleary from the whiskey, burned with a fire in its russet depths, and the golden one seemed to glow lightly in tandem. From this close, she could count the barely-there freckles that were dusted across the bridge of his nose, so light that they almost blended into the deep brown of his skin. And his scar—she could feel the grooved edges of it under her fingertips as she held his face, and she longed to raise her hand and cradle the damaged skin—

“Okay?” Lucien interrupted her enraptured perusal of his face, confusion lacing his question.

She blinked back to awareness, quickly shoving aside all thoughts of tenderly holding his face or seeing how hot his eyes could burn if she just—no. “So here’s the plan. Because—I want time, Lucien. Time to choose. Time to get to know other males. And you have whatever it is you have with your—with Vassa.”

“And Jurian.” 

Elain frowned at him. “Stay focused.”

He snorted but stayed quiet, so she continued. “And this—” she waved her hand between the two of them. “Gets forgotten. But not rejected.” She paused for a moment, and then said, quietly. “It’s just—I don’t want to be alone. At the end of it all. If—if…” She trailed off.

Lucien scoffed. “If you don’t find anyone better? Okay, princess.” He started to pull away. “I don’t want to be your last chance gamble because you’re drunk and lonely tonight, Elain.”

“No—no.” She kept her hands pressed to either side of his face, squeezing slightly until he stopped trying to move and just scowled at her. She knew he could shake her off if he really wanted to, if he decided to go back to the party or winnow home to his humans and laugh with them about his silly mate who came on to him because she was lonely and couldn’t find love on her own like them. But she didn’t want him to think that it was him she disliked. Then he could leave if he wanted to, and she would steal another bottle of Rhys’ to forget the whole humiliating affair.

He stayed, so she said, “It’s not that. It’s not you. Obviously. Don’t be an idiot. I just—I don’t like the obligation of you.”

He rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Do you like the obligation of me?”

“Not at this moment.”

Elain scowled and removed her hands from his face to gesture at the doorway. She had said what she needed to. “You can leave.”

But Lucien just looked at her for a few moments and sighed. “No, I really can’t. Not if this might be something—” He stopped himself from saying anything else, and impulsively, Elain grabbed his hand.  

“I just want a chance to choose. I just want time. Not to give it up completely. And I want—you to have time too. To choose.” That was a lie—Elain would much prefer it if he just waited for her to figure it out, but she couldn’t ask that of him. Not fairly. 

He nodded, so she continued. “So we make a bargain. For time. And then, if we reach the end of the time and we haven’t committed—officially—to someone else, we do it. The whole thing. Accepting the bond, the frenzy, the big ceremony and the family and all of it. Because maybe the Mother or the Cauldron or fate or whatever was right all along.”

“How long?” Lucien asked.

“How long what?”

“How long until we call in the bargain?”

Elain titled her head, considering.“Ten years.”

“And if there’s no one else—”

“Yes. We do it. Mates.”

Lucien hesitated for a moment, and Elain let go of his hand to grab his face again. “Say yes, Lucien.” Saying his name felt like magic and music and possibility, and as she watched the sound of it affect him again just like it had when he first came in the room, she knew he would agree.

Was it fair, using his name like this to get what she wanted? Maybe not. But it felt right—a way to bind them together without taking away their choices. Elain only hoped that it didn’t end with a repeat of her situation now—left alone while he found all that he was looking for. 

She hiccuped slightly.

Lucien smiled at that and then nodded. “Then, yes, Elain. It’s a bargain.” He leaned in and brought his hand up between hers to cup her chin, a smirk dancing across his face. “And sealed with a kiss.”

He tilted her lips up to meet his, and Elain burned.

She didn’t know what she had been expecting—something gentle, perhaps? Courtly and courteous, even.  But Lucien kissed with a fire that reminded her that he was a son of Autumn, his lips blisteringly hot and insatiable, searing through her until she felt herself melt into him.

There was a brief spark of pain in her head, just behind her ear, but she ignored it, lost as she was in his embrace. It was bliss and agony and ruination and heaven, and Elain privately wondered if she would ever feel something quite like it again.

After a few more moments, he pulled away, breathing heavily, and Elain too found herself gasping as she unconsciously lifted one hand to her lips as if it could soothe the bruising ache his kiss left behind.

They stared at each other, blinking. And then Elain smiled. “Wait here.”

She ran back to Rhys’ office, ignoring Lucien’s confused shout as she left the room. This—the bargain and the day and that kiss—required a drink. She grabbed one of the bottles at random, not really caring what it was, and then returned to the staging room. Lucien had spread out across the loveseat, with one arm thrown over his eyes.

She nudged him and he moved his arm. “Why did you—” But then he saw the bottle she grabbed—the mead, apparently—and smiled, understanding flashing in his eyes.

“Move over.” He shifted slightly, but not enough that she could sit upright on her own side of the bench, so she was forced to sit between his legs, leaning back into his chest.

“Happy, Lucien?”

He hummed in response. 

She rolled her eyes, not that he could see, and pulled the cork out of the bottle, savoring the honey-rich scent that immediately drenched the air around them. “A toast?”

Elain took a sip before passing the bottle backwards to Lucien, who laughed, “To stupid bargains with beautiful women.”

“To beautiful bargains with stupid men.”

She didn’t turn around to look at him, but she knew he was smiling. “Whatever you say, Elain.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Elain found herself sprawled out on the loveseat in her staging room with her feet dangling off the side. Her head was pounding and her tongue felt cottony and thick in her mouth as she blinked blearily awake and tried to remember what had happened last night.

She remembered leaving the party and stealing Rhys’ whiskey, and then Lucien!—she glanced around in a quiet panic. Was he here? What had she said to him? 

But she was alone—Lucien had apparently left at some point in the evening, although she couldn’t quite place when, and so she didn’t have to face him and whatever alcohol-fueled nonsense they had said to each other.

They had shared the whiskey—that she remembers. And they talked about…something. And she could feel the ghost of some fire on her lips—the whiskey, most likely. But everything else was lost in a blur of liquor and warmth and … pain? Had she gotten hurt somehow?

There was a small, pulsing burning behind her ear, and Elain tentatively raised her hand to it. It was slightly warm, but it didn’t feel like an injury.

She hauled herself up off the loveseat to walk across the room to the vanity, hoping she could see whatever it was in the mirror. She angled her neck and swept her tangled hair to the side and—there!—she could just make out the silhouette of a flower tattoo behind her ear. 

Leaning in closer, she tried to make out the details. It looked like … a larkspur, maybe? But why—

And then Elain gasped and closed her eyes. A bargain. Drunk Elain had made a bargain with someone—Lucien? Gods, she hoped not—and because it was the fucking Night Court, she bore the evidence of it on her skin. It was a small tattoo, and  she thanked the mother that it wasn’t some giant monstrosity like Feyre’s arm bargain tattoos—at least she could hide this. Whatever this was.

[a-d-nox]

lenormand cards: key phrases and an example of a card combo (part 2)

this is just a beginners guide to the lenormand. these are key phrases that come to mind when i think of the cards - NOT how they should be directly applied. they needs to be thought about situationally - the card / when it is in specific combos can change or alter its meaning in a reading.

child: innocence, nativity, spontaneity, seeing only the good in people, carefree attitude, an actually child, smallness, newness, beginnings, playing, immaturity, etc.

child + heart = young love, blind devotion, puberty, just happy to be around others, small joys in life, parallel play, nostalgia, an olive branch, etc.

fox: plotting, protection, security, stealth, deviousness, treachery, manipulation, deception, trickery, loyalty, work, routine, obligation, responsibility, duty, cons, etc.

fox + child = white lies, feigning ignorance/innocence, impulsive actions based on opportunity, pretending to be better than you are, avoiding responsibilities, etc.

bear: defensive, fierceness, resourcefulness, power, strength, courage, protection, maturity/matriarchy, stability, security, management, finances, investments, income, possessions, diet, food, etc.

bear + fox = protective yourself, a fierce loyalty, seven of swords energy, white collar crime, savings account, etc.

stars: peacefulness, tranquility, guidance, direction, happiness, hope, encouragement, perseverance, confidence, etc.

stars + bear = protecting your peace, the power of ones mindset, seeing a way out of the red / debt, etc.

stork: esteem, admiration, respect, babies, fertility, fruitfulness, productivity, birth, renewal, change, movement, new job, new home, new person in your life, extra money, improvements, pregnancy, adoption, new activity, new projects, progress, advancement, renovations, evolution, etc.

stork + stars = good self-esteem, becoming pregnant soon, encouragement from the universe to get a new job, don't lose hope in a project/task, etc.

dog: best friend, companionship, protection, loyalty, fidelity, guidance, sincerity, partnership, acquaintanceship, therapist, boyfriend/girlfriend, an affair, advisor, doctor, reliability, etc.

dog + stork = your best friend is pregnant, meeting a new friend, renewal of vows, a reliable new source of income, real estate agent, taking things to the next level in a relationship, etc.

tower: shelter, protection, confinement, imprisonment, government, corporation, judicial system, military, guarding, ego, ambition, isolation, guidance, schools, law, hospitals, high self-esteem, condos, movie theaters, office building, mall, airports, chain businesses, legal matters, bureaucracy, etc.

tower + dog = a sheltered friend, a friend you protect, roommate, an egotistical friend, water cooler encounters at the workplace, needing to visit the doctor for testing, etc.

garden: courting, public gatherings, harmony, beauty, relaxation, birthday parties, concert, play, movies, restaurants, public/private occasions, reunions, conferences, seminars, meetings, crowds, audiences, celebrations, abundance, etc.

garden + tower = little to no dating experience, solitude, hotel stay, movie theater, cafeteria, airport reunions, a convention, etc. 

mountain: immobility, resistance, standing still, endurance, blockage, obstacles, what must be overcame, challenges, delays, interruptions, burdens, postponement, procrastination, remoteness, faraway retreats, etc.

mountain + garden = stage fright, an enduring relationship, social anxiety, social burden, secrets, a rain date for an event, etc.

crossroads: options, choices, free will, multiple directions, doubts, hesitation, double lives, cheating, etc.

crossroads + mountain = analysis paralysis, the many ways to overcome an obstacle, challenges within a relationship ("where do we go from here"), etc.

mice: sickness, fast, smart, group work, damage, reproduction, stress, worry, restlessness, agitation, palpitations, anxiety, nervousness, apprehension, tension, fatigue, lost items, small problems, tediousness, repetitiveness, excitement, eagerness, agitation, etc.

mice + crossroads = options of treatment, anxiety, paranoia, worrying about doing the wrong thing or picking the wrong choice, decision fatigue, etc.

heart: love, passion, devotion, affection, emotions, connections with others, appreciation of others, happiness, joy, contentment, satisfaction, fulfillment, gratification, peace, harmony, delight, pleasure, enjoyment, kindness, charity, generosity, hospitality, feelings, desires, fondness, intentions, fidelity, etc.

heart + mice = heart break, a wave of emotions, instant gratification, manifesting, etc.

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my "suggest a post topic" button if you want to see a specific pac/pile next. if you'd like my input on how i read a specific card or what i like to ask my deck, lenormand combos centered on specific card, etc. feel free to use the ask button for that as well.

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[nausicaamusiclover20]

Hi))!! I was rewatching big bang theory and according to one of the episodes those Vegas weddings are apparently legitimate? So I had an idea…

Maybe in 83-84 Lars and reader got married there as a joke, they were young and in love, etc. but then fame happened, followed by booze and groupies so she couldn’t tolerate that and broke up with him.

In 93, after they made a ton of money, Lars plans to marry his model/actress/typical rockstar GF, and his lawyer, while making a prenup, runs some checks and finds out that Lars is still married to the reader, so the divorce with her must happen first and, since there was no prenup, she is entitled to half of his money. So he reconnects with her, to calm her suspicions and make her sign divorce papers with no financial demands from him. But he kinda falls in love with her again… unfortunately she does find out that he got back to her to have a chance of marrying another woman… so Lars has to prove his pure intentions…

I kinda view it as happy end, maybe in the end they renew the vows with a proper lavish Lars-style ceremony)))

I hope you like it because I think it's weak

A rewritten love

The year was 1983, and Las Vegas shimmered in the desert night like a dream made for the young and reckless. Lars and Y/N were both. He was on the cusp of fame with his band, and she had been there with him through every wild, unpredictable moment. The neon lights above the strip were a blur as they ran down the street, laughing, hearts full of love and chaos.

They hadn’t planned to get married—hell, they hadn’t even talked about it before. But somewhere between the laughter and the whirlwind of being hopelessly in love, they found themselves in front of a cheap wedding chapel. Lars, tipsy on both alcohol and adrenaline, had grinned at her like he had the best idea in the world.

“Let’s do it, babe,” he’d said, his eyes sparkling. “Let’s get married, right now.”

Y/N had laughed, thinking it was just another spontaneous moment in their crazy, love-filled lives. But something about the way he looked at her—so wild, so free—had made her heart flutter. They were young and reckless, but they were in love. And that love felt unstoppable.

So, in front of a priest, they exchanged vows. With the cheapest rings they could find and laughter in every word, they said ‘I do.’ It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t planned. But it was them—reckless, passionate, and full of fire.

Afterward, they stumbled out of the chapel, hands clasped, their hearts racing like they had just stolen the world. It felt like forever, like they’d always be together. But they hadn’t realized then how fragile forever could be.

Fame hit Lars fast and hard. By the mid-80s, his band had blown up in ways they had only dreamed of. With success came the tours, the parties, the money… and the women. Too many women. Y/N tried to ignore it at first, telling herself the stories didn’t matter, that the rumors were just part of being in the rockstar world. But eventually, the whispers became impossible to dismiss. Every late night, every hotel room on tour that reeked of booze and perfume—it all chipped away at their love.

In 1986, when the weight of the groupies, the alcohol, and the distance between them became unbearable, she walked away. She had loved him—God, how she had loved him—but she couldn’t stay in a marriage where his fidelity came second to the rockstar lifestyle. So, she left him and their whirlwind of a marriage behind.

Now it was 1993.

Lars Ulrich sat in his lawyer’s office, papers strewn across the desk as they discussed his upcoming wedding. His fiancée, a model-actress who fit the perfect image of a rockstar’s bride, was eagerly awaiting the big day. But Lars, sitting across from his lawyer, felt a strange tension gnawing at him. It had been years since he had faced his past, and today, he would be forced to do just that.

As his lawyer went over the details of the prenup, something shifted in the room.

“There’s something we need to address before you move forward,” the lawyer said, his voice cautious.

Lars raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

His lawyer flipped through a folder before setting a piece of paper down in front of Lars. “Your marriage to Y/N back in 1983… it’s still legally binding.”

Lars stared at him in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“You never filed for divorce. Legally, you’re still married to her.”

The room felt like it had dropped a few degrees as Lars processed the information. His mind immediately flashed back to that wild night in Vegas—the laughter, the vows, the stupid rings—and then all the years that followed. All the time he had spent pretending it was just a distant memory.

“And,” the lawyer continued, his tone turning serious, “because there was no prenup back then, she’s entitled to half of your assets unless she signs a divorce agreement without financial demands.”

Lars ran his hand through his hair, his heart racing. Half of his money. Half of everything he had worked for, earned, lived for—was technically hers. His fiancée, the glamorous new chapter of his life, wouldn’t be thrilled if she knew this complication was standing in the way of their wedding.

“So, what do I do?” Lars asked, feeling the weight of the situation settle over him.

“You’ll need her to sign divorce papers. And ideally, you want her to agree to no financial demands. If she refuses... Well, things could get complicated. It’s best to go to her in person, smooth things over.”

Lars left the lawyer’s office with a whirlwind of thoughts in his head. He had been prepared for everything to move forward smoothly with his new life—his wedding, his future. But now, he was forced to face his past. He needed Y/N’s signature, and more importantly, he needed to make sure she didn’t walk away with half of everything.

A week later, Lars found himself standing outside Y/N’s house, his heart pounding harder than he wanted to admit. It had been years since they had spoken. Years since she had walked away from their chaotic, messy life together. She was supposed to be nothing more than a memory—something that belonged to a past version of himself. Yet here he was, needing her signature, needing something from the woman he once loved.

He knocked on the door, and when Y/N opened it, he felt time collapse in on itself. She looked different—older, more mature—but she still had that fire in her eyes, the one that had always drawn him to her.

“Lars?” Her voice was soft, but there was a guardedness in her tone. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” he said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “Can we talk?”

She hesitated but eventually stepped aside, letting him in. The house was quiet, peaceful in a way that felt miles apart from the world he’d been living in. It struck him how different their lives had become.

Lars sat down, unsure where to start. “This is... probably the last thing you expected, I know.”

Y/N crossed her arms, leaning against the doorway. “No kidding. It’s been years, Lars. Why now?”

He took a deep breath, knowing he couldn’t avoid the truth. “I’m getting married again, and... well, turns out we’re still legally married. I didn’t realize it, but we never filed for divorce.”

Y/N’s expression shifted from surprise to something more complicated. “So you need me to sign the papers.”

Lars nodded. “Yeah, and, uh... I need you to sign with no financial demands.”

Her eyes flashed with something—hurt, maybe anger. “Ah, there it is. I was wondering why you’d come here out of the blue. It’s not just about the divorce—it’s about your money.”

He winced. “It’s not like that, Y/N. I mean, yeah, it’s part of it. But I didn’t come here just for that.”

“Then why did you come here, Lars?” she asked, her voice soft but edged with pain. “We haven’t spoken in years, and now, all of a sudden, you show up because you want to marry someone else.”

Lars shifted in his seat, guilt gnawing at him. “Look, I know it sounds bad. And yeah, I messed up. But... seeing you again, it brought back a lot of memories. I started thinking about everything we had together—every moment we shared, every laugh, every fight, and every quiet night together. It hit me hard, and I realized I never stopped loving you.”

As he spoke, images flashed through his mind: their wild nights under the Vegas lights, lazy mornings tangled in sheets, and quiet moments where they felt like the only two people in the world. Those memories felt like echoes, haunting him, reminding him of the love he had taken for granted.

Y/N stared at him, her face unreadable. “You’re marrying someone else, Lars. And now you want to convince me that you still care?”

His chest tightened. “I do care. And I know I hurt you, I know I screwed things up, but... being here, talking to you, it reminded me of what we had. What I messed up. I didn’t just come here for the papers. I came here because I never really stopped loving you.”

Y/N shook her head, her voice breaking. “Don’t lie to me, Lars. You’re here because you want a clean slate with your new fiancée. You want me to sign away everything we ever had so you can move on without any complications.”

Lars stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of her. “No, I’m here because I realized I can’t move on without facing what we had. And what we still have, if you’ll let me. I don’t want to marry her—I want you. I just didn’t realize it until now.”

Y/N stared at him, the weight of their history hanging between them. After a long pause, she whispered, “Okay. But this time, no more lies. If you want me back, you have to prove it.”

“I will,” Lars replied, determination flooding his voice. “Let me show you how much you mean to me, how much we mean to each other. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

With every word, he felt a flicker of hope ignite within him. But Y/N’s expression hardened again, and she crossed her arms defensively.

“What about your fiancée, Lars?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with a tremor. “You’re engaged. What’s she going to think when she finds out you’re here, trying to convince your ex-wife to come back?”

Lars ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of her question like a heavy anchor. “I know it sounds messed up,” he said, taking a step back, trying to give her space. “But what I feel for you... it’s different. It always has been. The thing is, I don’t want to hurt her. I didn’t intend for this to happen.”

“Didn’t intend?” Y/N scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “You’re here because you want me back, and you want a divorce from a woman who thought she was going to marry you. What do you think this makes you look like?”

Lars felt the sharpness of her words pierce through him. “I get it, and I don’t expect you to understand right away. But with her, it feels like... I don’t know, like I’m trying to fit into a mold that was never meant for me. She’s beautiful, talented, and everyone expects us to be perfect together, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, the hurt flashing through her gaze. “So, what? You want to jump back into our lives like nothing happened? Like the last ten years didn’t exist?”

“No!” Lars said, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’m not asking you to forget the past. I want to face it, to make things right. I’m not the same guy I was back then. I’ve learned from my mistakes, and I’m ready to fight for what we had.”

“But what does that even mean?” she challenged, her voice rising. “You expect me to just let you walk back into my life after everything? After you left me for fame and fortune? And now you want me to help you escape your new life?”

Lars stepped closer, his heart racing. “I’m not asking you to rescue me. I’m asking you to understand that I’ve realized I want you, not just the idea of you. My relationship with her was built on expectations, not love. With you, it was real.”

Y/N looked away, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “And what about her feelings? What about the life you built together?”

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I never meant to hurt her. I genuinely care about her, but I realize now that I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not. I want to be with you, and if that means I have to end things with her, then I will. I have to be honest with myself—and with you.”

“Are you really ready to do that?” Y/N challenged, her gaze piercing through him. “Can you really just walk away from someone you promised to love?”

“Yes,” he replied, his voice steady. “I need to be true to myself and to you. I don’t want to be tied to someone out of obligation or fear. I want to love freely, to be with the person who makes me feel alive.”

For a moment, silence hung between them, the air charged with unspoken feelings. Lars could see the conflict in her eyes, the memories of their shared past battling with the pain of their separation.

Y/N finally sighed, the fight seeming to ebb from her. “I don’t know, Lars. It’s not that simple.”

“I know it’s not. But let’s take it one step at a time. Can we talk? Can we see if there’s a way back to each other?” He reached for her hand, his heart pounding in anticipation. “I want to explore this, Y/N. If you’re willing to give me a chance.”

She hesitated, looking down at their hands before slowly pulling away. “I need time to think. You can’t just walk back into my life and expect everything to be okay.”

“I get that,” Lars said, his voice softer now. “But I’ll wait. I’ll do whatever it takes to show you how serious I am about this. Just know that I’ve never stopped loving you, and I don’t want to lose you again.”

Y/N took a step back, her expression torn. “This is a lot to process, Lars. You’ve changed, but I need to know if you really mean what you say.”

He nodded, feeling a mix of hope and fear. “I do. I promise.”

As she turned to walk away, Lars felt a sense of longing fill the space between them. He knew this was just the beginning, and the journey to reclaiming their love wouldn’t be easy. But standing there, with the shadows of their past behind them, he felt a spark of hope flicker back to life.

Over the following months, Lars and Y/N reconnected, slowly navigating the minefield of their past. They shared stories over coffee, went for long drives, and laughed at old memories, each encounter peeling back the layers of their hearts.

As time passed, Lars found himself reevaluating everything he thought he wanted. The allure of fame faded, and he began to realize that his heart belonged to Y/N. He didn’t want to marry anyone else; he wanted to fight for their love.

One evening, as they sat on the couch reminiscing, Y/N finally voiced her concerns. “Lars, I want to believe you, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m just a backup plan for you.”

He sighed, his gaze searching hers. “I understand why you’d think that. But I swear, I’ve come back because I realize what I lost. I want to make things right between us.”

His words lingered in the air, and for the first time, Y/N felt a flicker of hope amidst her doubts. As if sensing her vulnerability, Lars leaned in closer, his heart pounding with unspoken feelings. Gently, he cupped her face in his hands, and as their eyes locked, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers.

The kiss was soft at first, a tender exploration of the feelings they had both suppressed for so long. But as Y/N melted into the moment, it deepened, filled with the passion and longing that had never truly faded. When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, she could see the sincerity in his eyes.

 “I want you back. I want us.” He whispered.

Finally, the day arrived. After months of rediscovering their love, Lars proposed, this time with a proper ring and a heartfelt plea for a future together. Y/N accepted, her heart racing with joy and apprehension.

They planned a beautiful ceremony, this time in a stunning chapel adorned with flowers and twinkling lights, surrounded by friends and family who celebrated their love.

As Y/N walked down the aisle, she couldn’t help but feel nervous but also incredibly excited. Lars stood at the altar, his expression filled with love and anticipation. The priest welcomed everyone warmly, creating an atmosphere of unity and joy.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Lars and Y/N in holy matrimony, a celebration of love and commitment,” he began, his voice steady and comforting.

Lars and Y/N exchanged vows once more, this time with a depth and sincerity that resonated through every word. “I promise to love you more each day, to be your partner in everything, through every high

[cerealboxlore]

For the WIP ask game!

There are so many intriguing choices! You're pretty good at coming up with fun and catchy titles!

I think I'll pick Killer Frequency

Hi, Wolf! Haha! I just can't help myself when it comes to new fic ideas, if only I had that kind of drive to actually finish them aa! Thanks, making the title for a fic is one of the best parts!

Alrighty, well, Killer Frequency is an idea of mine that came from a game I really enjoy, of the same name. The premise of that game is that a radio show host in a small town is the only source of help to call when a serial killer goes on the loose, and it's up to him to save the town and himself before it's too late. I went bouncing up and down the walls for that game, so I figured, I should combine this with my other hyper-fixation! Billy already is a radio show host and constantly has people trying to kill him, this is a perfect fit!

For my fic, the plot surrounds Billy Batson investigating a serial killer cold case with the help of the Fawcett News team (Sterling Morris, Helen Fidelity, Whitey Murphey, Joane Jameson, and Cissie Sommerly). Billy and Cissie aren't officially helping with the case, but whenever those two are brought into the office, they insist on helping in any way they can. Mr. Morris also couldn't find a babysitter in time.

They figured an old famous case like this would make for a good segment on their radio show, bringing in new and old fans of good journalism stories. They even joked on air that they would "solve the case once and for all" Never once did any of them anticipate one of the viewers calling into the show would be the killer themselves; promising to pay them a visit, real soon.

Danger would become eminent, as Fawcett City goes under a blackout/power outage. All emergency service calls are offline, with no internet, and no lines can get through. Whoever this killer is, or whatever they are, they seem to be rather keen on letting old dogs lie.

With it apparent that a serial killer is on the loose in Fawcett, heading straight to them, the Fawcett news team and Billy have to figure out the culprit and save the lives of the Fawcett people and theirs, before it's too late...

It's a bit of a mess, but it's a favorite of mine! I'm really excited to finish this one and ramble on more about it. Please, if you want to know more, let me know. I will not shut up about it!!

[livesunique]

Ms Luigia "Gina" Lollobrigida OMRI (4 July 1927 – 16 January 2023)

Destined to be called "The Most Beautiful Woman in the World", Ms Lollobrigida was the daughter of a furniture manufacturer, and grew up in the pictorial mountain village. She studied sculpture at Rome’s Academy of Fine Arts, and started her career with minor Italian film roles before coming third in 1947’s Miss Italia pageant. 

After refusing a contract with Howard Hughes to make three pictures in the United States in 1950, Ms Lollobrigida gained for starring turns in 1952’s “Fanfan la Tulipe” and 1953’s “Bread, Love and Dreams,” the latter of which netted her a BAFTA nomination for Best Foreign Actress.

Ms Lollobrigida’s first American film was “Beat the Devil,” a 1953 adventure comedy directed by John Huston that cast her opposite Humphrey Bogart. Over the course of the ’50s and ’60s, she starred in numerous French, Italian and European-shot American productions, with highlights including “Trapeze” with Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis, “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” as Esmerelda, “Solomon and Sheba” with Yul Brynner, “Never So Flew” with Frank Sinatra and Steve McQueen, “Come September” with Rock Hudson, and “Woman of Straw” with Sean Connery, and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell,” with Shelley Winters.

Her roles made her a major sex symbol of Italian cinema; in 1953, she won Italy’s David di Donatello award for Best Actress for her performance in the opera star Lina Cavalieri’s biopic “Beautiful But Dangerous,” known in Italian as “The World’s Most Beautiful Woman.” 

She later won two more David di Donatello Award for “Imperial Venus” and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell,” a Golden Medal of the City of Rome in 1986, a 40th Anniversary David in 1996 and a 50th Anniversary David in 2006. In 1961, she won the Golden Globes’ Henrietta Award for “World Fan Favorite,” and received nominations for “Falcon Crest” and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell.”

After the ’60s, Lollobrigida’s career began to slow down, but she continued to act intermittently, including in the 1995 Agnes Varda film “Les cent et une nuits de Simon Cinéma,” and in ’80s TV shows such as CBS’ “Falcon Crest” and ABC’s “The Love Boat.” 

Ms Lollobrigida also developed a successful second career in photojournalism during the ’80s. She obtained an exclusive interview with Cuban leader Fidel Castro and also photographed many famous film stars, as well as publishing a number of books of her photographs.

In 2011 she made her final film appearance, playing herself in a cameo for the Italian parody film “Box Office 3D: The Filmest of Films.”

The screen legend sale of some of her 23 jewels from her Bulgari  collection at Sotheby’s in 2013 to help fund an international hospital for stem-cell research. 

On 16 October 1999, Lollobrigida was nominated as a Goodwill Ambassador of the UN Food and Agriculture Organization

Ms  Lollobrigida won the Berlinale Camera at the Berlin Film Festival in 1986, Karlovy Vary Film Festival special prize in 1995, and the Rome Festival’s career prize in 2008. In 2018, she received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Ciao, Gina, Riposa in Pace

(Armando Pietrangeli, “Light and Shadow,” Gina Lollobrigida,1960, Trapeze 1956, Woman Of Rome,1954, Salomon & Sheba,1959, Come September, 1961,Un Bellissimo Novembre,1968, The Hunchback of Notre Dame,1956, In London to publicise her book of photographs titled Italia Mia,1974, Fidel Castro shot by Ms Lollobrigida,1974, Gina Lollobrigida pictured on July 11, 2022 in Rome).

[todaysdocument]

Alexander Hamilton's Oath of Allegiance, May 12, 1778. 

Record Group 93: War Department Collection of Revolutionary War Records

Series: Numbered Record Books

Transcription: 

25 25

I Alexander Hamilton Lieutenant Colonel and Aide De Camp to His Excellency the commander in Chief

do acknowledge the UNITED STATES of AMERICA, to be Free, Independent and Sovereign States, and declare that the people thereof owe no allegiance or obedience to George the Third, King of Great-Britain; and I renounce, refute and abjure any allegiance or obedience to him; and I do swear that I will to the utmost of my power, support, maintain and defend the said United States, against the said King George the Third, his heirs and successors and his or their abettors, assistants, and adherents, and will serve the said United States in the office of Aide De Camp which I now hold, with fidelity, according to the best of my skill and understanding.

Sworn, before me, Camp Valley Forge May 12th 1778

Alex Hamilton

Stirling Major Genl.

[rauthschild]

Communist History Of V. P. Kamala Harris

 This is a really revealing history of of this nation's Vice President and presidential candidate. It is a long article but is necessary because it is so very important for you to know. This editorial is by Major General Higginbotham U.S. Marines (Ret)

This timely editorial that exposes the hidden background of Kamala Harris is from the Combat Veterans for Congress Political Action Committee. It is posted here with permission of the author. CVFC PAC supports the election of US military combat veterans to the US Senate and House of Representatives.

The editorial begins:

Kamala Harris' father was an avowed Marxist professor in the Economics Department at Stanford University in Palo Alto, CA. Both of Harris' parents were active in the Berkeley based Afro-American Association; Fidel Castro and Che Guevara were the heroes of the Afro-American Association. The group's leader, Donald Warden (aka Khalid al-Mansour), mentored two young Afro-American Association members, Huey Newton and Bobby Seale; they created the Maoist inspired Black Panther Party which gained strong support from Communist China; the Black Panther Party served as the model for creation of the Black Lives Matter Marxist organization Khalid al-Mansour subsequently went on to arrange financing and facilitated for Barack Hussein Obama to be accepted as a student to matriculate at Harvard Law School.

Following her graduation from college, Harris returned to California and subsequently became the mistress of the 60-year-old married Speaker of the California Assembly, Willie Brown, Jr. Brown's political campaigns were supported and funded by Dr. Carlton Goodlett, the owner of The Sun Reporter and several other pro-Communist newspapers. Brown was elected as Mayor of San Francisco, and strongly endorsed Harris' Marxist political philosophy; he guided Harris' political rise in California politics, leading to her election as California's Attorney General. Willie Brown, Jr. is a well-known long-time Communist sympathizer.

Willie Brown, Jr. was initially elected to public office with substantial help of the Communist Party USA. Today, Willie Brown is widely regarded as one of the Chinese Communist Party's best friends in the San Francisco Bay Area. While serving as San Francisco District Attorney, Kamala Harris mentored a young San Francisco Radical Maoist activist, Lateefah Simon, who was a member of the STORM Revolutionary Movement; Simon currently chairs the Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) Board. Simon has always been close friends with the founder of Black Lives Matter Marxist Domestic Terrorists, Alicia Garza, as well as STORM member and avowed Communist, Van Jones. Harris has been openly and aggressively supporting Black Lives Matter Marxists; Kamala Harris is still closely associated with Maoist Lateefah Simon and Marxist Alicia Garza.

 Kamala Harris's sister Maya Harris was a student activist at Stanford University. She was a closely associated with Steve Phillips, one of the leading Marxist-Leninists on campus and a long-time affiliate with the League of Revolutionary Struggle, a pro-Chinese Communist group. Phillips came out of the Left, and in college he studied Marx, Mao, and Lenin, and maintained close associations with fellow Communists. Phillips married into the multi billion dollar Sandler family of the Golden West Savings and Loan Fortune. He funded many leftist political campaigns, and the voter registration drives in the Southern and South Western states in order to help his friend, Barack Hussein Obama, defeat Hillary Clinton.

Phillips has been a major financial sponsor for Kamala Harris's political campaigns for various California elective offices. Harris' husband, Doug Emhoff works for the law firm DLA Piper, which "boasts nearly 30 years of experience in Communist China with over 140 lawyers dedicated to its 'Communist China investment Services' branch. He was just appointed to Professor at Yale to school future lawyers in the fine points of Communism. When she was elected to the US Senate,Kamala Harris appointed a Pro-Communist Senate Chief of Staff, Karine Jean-Pierre. Jean-Pierre was active with the New York-based Haiti Support Network. The organization worked closely with the pro-Communist China/Communist North Korea Workers World Party and supported Jean-Bertrand Aristide, the far-left Communist former president of Haiti and the radical Lavalas movement.

Fortunately for Harris, but potentially disastrous for the Republic, elected office holders are not subject to the security clearance process. If the FBI did a Background Investigation on Kamala Harris, she never would have passed, because of her 40-year close ties with Marxists, Communists, Maoists, and Communist China. Harris would never have been approved for acceptance to any of the 5 Military Service Academies, been appointed to a U.S. Government Sub-Cabinet position, or would have been approved to fill a sensitive position for a high security defense contractor. Yet, since Joe Biden was elected, Harris could be a heartbeat away from being President. The U.S. constitutional Republic is being threatened by the People's Republic of Communist China (PPC) externally, and by their very active espionage operations within the United States. The People's Republic of Communist China (PPC), with 1.4 billion people, is governed by the 90 million member Chinese Communist Party (CCP), that has been working with Russia to destroy the U.S. Constitutional Republic for over 70 years.

 If the American voters read the background information (in Trevor Loudon's article) on Kamala Harris, they would never support her election as Vice President of the United States. Joe Biden is suffering from the early onset of dementia and will continue to decline in cerebral awareness; he will never be able to fill out a four-year term of office. Since Biden was elected, the Socialists, Marxists, and Communist who control Kamala Harris, are planning to enact provisions of the 25th Amendment, in order to remove Joe Biden from office, so Harris can become the first Communist President of the United States. Since Biden was elected, because Biden would not be up to it,

Kamala Harris would lead the effort to appoint very dangerous anti-American Leftist, Communist, Socialists, and Marxists to fill highly sensitive positions in the Washington Deep State Bureaucracy. She would fill all appointive positions in the US Intelligence Agencies, in the Department of Homeland Security, in the Department of Defense, in The Justice Department, the Department of State, the FBI, the CIA, most cabinet positions, the National Security Council, and in the White House Staff. American voters must alert their fellow Americans that Kamala Harris is a very serious National Security threat to the very survival of the US Constitutional Republic; she has been a fellow traveler of Marxists, Communists, Maoists, Socialists, Progressives, and Chinese Communists for over 35 years.

President Trump had much more background information on Kamala Harris than we presented here, and he was correct, when he accused Kamala Harris of being a Communist subverter.

Geoffrey B. Higginbotham Major General, USMC (Ret).

Ernest Rauthschild's Response

Further, Geoffrey B. Higginbotham is standing in front of the foreign corporate British Territorial United States and Vatican Municipal United States BANNER; and not our Autochthonous Preamble Posterity General Government Flag enacted by the General Congress Assembled July 14th, 1777.

None of the "presidents of the United States" in my lifetime have been elected either in accord with Art. 2, Section 1 or Amendment 12 of the United States Constitution. There is no Constitutional provision that allows the Winners of the partisan conventions, who somehow become a candidate the Electoral College Select from, to choose or pick the candidate for Vice' President.

Since Congress has never declared war during Higginbotham tenure and lifetime, his resume is merely that of a foreign corporate Indentured 13th and 14th Amendment White Negro Slave in a foreign corporate Mercenary uniform.

[doctorfriend79]

Saint Marie Finest

[shinesurge]

your custom cassettes are really really cool! ive been thinking about making custom cassettes for a bit, would you be willing to share what kind of paper you used for the label stickers and j-cards? also where do you get blank cassettes from? ive been looking at cassettecomeback but i was wondering if there was a better option.

Thanks a lot! They're really fun to make hehe

So full disclosure: I run a merch shop for my webcomic and I make most of my stuff myself in my studio. I've been doing this for the better part of ten years and over that time I've accumulated quite a bit of specialized, expensive equipment like the photo printer and cutting machine I use to make my cassette ephemera. THAT SAID mixtapes don't necessarily need all that!! Unless you're running a bootleg business on etsy or somethin I don't think you and your friends gotta run out and spend a ton of money to make these (beyond tracking down a deck and a player, obviously).

Unfortunately most of these items are found on Amazon because I'm a professional artist trying to Live, but if that's something you'd rather avoid buying through I'm listing the brick and mortar places I can find them when I need to for whatever reason!

My j-cards are just the 8x10 glossy photo paper from Pen & Gear, it's usually less than ten bucks a pack at walmart lmao. I use it with an inkjet photo printer! There are plenty of laser printer options out there though, which is probably the type non-artists have access to. Honestly I think the look of black ink on colored copy paper is super cool for handmade tapes, especially between friends.

My sticker paper was a bitch to find and I'm not sure if it would be useful without my specific equipment, but it's this glossy adhesive photo paper from some rando company called LDProducts. Literally just called "Sticker Photo Paper" pf. It's more expensive but I get it in stacks of a hundred because I print tons of stickers for my shop. Again, glossy adhesive paper might not be useful without a big boy printer but MATTE sticker paper is everywhere, that's also pretty common to find at walmart or at the very least at an office supply store; you can print on it or even get out some markers (not sure i'd suggest anything besides ink tho, I'd be worried it could come off and damage the player). I design the labels in clip studio and then load them into cricut so it's super easy to get the right shape every time, but if you're Determined you could get out a measuring tape and an xacto knife and get similar results.

I've only found my tapes on amazon unfortunately, and it's been a while since I bought any because I sort of inherited a bunch of sealed ones when my dad died and i'm still going through them lol. Almost all my custom ones are 90 minute Sony High Fidelity, last I checked you could order them in packs of five or ten but I'm not sure what the prices are like rn. If you REALLY want to get fancy with colored shells/custom lengths i did find this cool site you can order from, Duplication.ca, but the shipping is kinda rough. One of these days I wanna make some cassettes for my webcomic and I'll drop some money on some pretty ones then, but for now the Sonys are treating me fine so I haven't dug too deep.

I hope something in here is useful! I'm always happy to share what I know but again, I'm very fortunate to have access to quite a bit of stuff most people don't and I try to be up front about it alskdjf. Cassettes are best when they're sorta janky and handmade tho, it's kind of the whole point, and if they're just for you or someone you care about then marking them with a sharpie and masking tape is just as cool in my opinion. probably cooler. everybody should put music on physical media and trade it i think.

[teachimera]

THE JAW OF VICTORY

This New Years, I played in The Jaw of Victory, a Locked Tomb LARP written and run by @psychick​. It was fantastic! The Premise: You are necromancers and cavaliers who have been sent by their Houses to serve in the Cohort. You all have just finished quashing the rebellion on a planet called Gliese 667 Cc out in the middle of nowhere and are having a little party for yourselves before returning to civilized space. Fighting on Gliese was hard, and a lot of the cities on the planet were destroyed, so its citizens will be relocated to a different planet. This happens all the time and it’s not your problem! (The Blood of Eden may disagree.) Tonight Admiral Trillium Gamma is hosting a party to celebrate the victory and award special commendations for service and valor in the name of His Eternal Kindliness, the Necrolord Prime. The dress code has been relaxed, and attendees are encouraged to express themselves and their Houses in their costuming. Games, gossip, duels and romance are in the air!  But not all was as it seemed, and plots and treachery were afoot, and so started a murder mystery with many more secrets to uncover...

All Hail the Emperor Undying! More pics under the cut.

Cavaliers, strike your best cheerleader pose! 

Necromancers, strike your best catty bitch pose!

Two is for discipline, heedless of trial Lieutenant Diana Tweyan, Cavalier

Three for the gleam of a jewel or a smile Dame Trin Hattrick, Cavalier Dux Alabaster Thaylaythah, Necromancer Admiral Trillium Gamma, Necromancer and Host of the Party

Four for fidelity, facing ahead General Iver Quadrumvitus, Necromancer Officer Nestor Fort, Cavalier

Five for tradition and debts to the dead Dame Senka Pyat, Cavalier Lady Zeta Iovius, Necromancer

Six for the truth over solace in lies Archivist Aristarchus Saturninus, Necromancer Scholar Sia Van Shest, Cavalier

Seven for beauty that blossoms and dies Dame Bathshira Themis, Cavalier Lady Ursa Septentrion, Necromancer, who is dead (very aptly, our Seventh House Necromancer started the game as the murder victim, and was a ghost throughout the game)

Eight for salvation no matter the cost Vicar Vorbia Scorpaenid, Necromancer

Nine for the Tomb, and for all that was lost Matthias Nonius, Cavalier (yes, THAT Matthias Nonius) Postulant Krysamorte Enneasmus, Necromancer

Those who have lost their partners...and the one haunting one of them.

[scotianostra]

August 4, 1327 saw the conclusion of a conflict between English and Scots forces at Stanhope Park.  

The result was a victory for Scotland, led by James Douglas; the “Black Douglas”.  Walter Scott’s “The History of Scotland” provides some detail on the battle.The Good Sir James almost captured the young English King in this battle that bore the trademark ambush tactics of the Scottish knight.  I have to admit I know little of the events so leave you with the version of the story from Walter Scott’s  “The History of Scotland” to give some detail on the battle. ‘The king sent a herald to defy the Scots to a fair field of fight, according to the practice of chivalry : he offered either to withdraw his own troops from the northern hank, and permit the Scottish army to come over and form in array of battle; or, if the enemy preferred to retire from the southern bank, and allow the English to cross the river unmolested, he declared his willingness to make the attack. But Douglas and Randolph knew too well their own inferiority in numbers and appointments, and the great advantage of their present situation, to embrace either alternative. They returned for answer, that they had entered England without the consent of the king and his barons; that they would abide in the realm as long as they pleased : “ if the king dislikes our presence,” said they, “ let him pass the river, and do his best to chastise us.” Thus the two armies continued facing each other; the Scots on the south bank of the Wear, the English on the north; the former subsisting on the herds of cattle which they drove in from the country on all hands, the latter living poorly on such provisions as they brought with them : the former spending their night round immense fires, maintained in the greater profusion for the pleasure of wasting the English wood, and lodging in huts and lodges made of boughs; the English, who were on the depopulated and wasted side of the river, sleeping many of them in the open air, with their saddles for pillows, and holding their horses in their hands.

They were annoyed by the Scottish bordermen winding their horns all night, and making a noise as if, says Froissart, “ all the devils of hell had been there.” Having thus faced each other for two or three days, the English, at dawn of the third or fourth morning, perceived the Scots’ position was deserted and empty. They had decamped with much silence and celerity, and were soon found to have occupied a new position on the Wear, resembling the former in its general description, but even stronger, and masked by a wood, being part of an inclosed chase, called Stanhope Deer-park, the property of the bishop of Durham. Here the two hostile armies confronted each other as formerly; the English declining to attack on account of the strength of the Scottish position, the Scots refusing battle with an army superior to their own….But the English did not remain long in the. neighbourhood of the Douglas in undisturbed slumbers. On the second night after their arrival in this new position, that enterprising leader left the Scottish camp with a select body of men at arms, crossed the Wear at a distance from the English encampment, and entered it, saying, as he passed the sleepy sentinels, in the manner and with the national exclamation of an English officer making the rounds: “ Ha! Saint George! have we no ward here ?” He reached the king’s tent without discovery, cut asunder the ropes, and cried his war cry of “ Douglas ! Douglas !” The young king only escaped death or captivity by the fidelity of his chaplain and others of his household, who fell in his defence. Disappointed in his attempt on the king’s person, which was his main object,

Douglas cut his way through the English host, who were now gathering fast, broke from their encampment, and returned safe to the Scottish camp with fresh laurels in his helmet…’ 

The Douglas archives give a more contemporary version of what happened at Stanhope Park here http://www.douglashistory.co.uk/history/Battles/stanhope_park

[thegamemaster1]

Top 5 survival-horror videogames in 2023

Hello everyone today I will talk about one of the best survival-horror games in 2023.

5. Alan Wake

it is an action and adventure game that captivates us from the first minute. Alain Wake is a writer who decides to go to the town of Bright Falls to look for his wife, it turns out that she has disappeared under strange circumstances. Once he reaches his destination, he quickly realizes that he will have to unravel a mystery. A dark presence is lurking and doesn't know who or what it is. Alan Wake's terror is more subtle and narrative, where the head plays tricks on the protagonist. The player will not be able to tell what is true and what is not, while the writer overcomes a mental block that has him in a major crisis. The game has one of the best tense and suspenseful atmospheres ever seen.

4. Daymare: 1994 Sandcastle

Daymare: 1994 Sandcastle is a third-person survival horror focused on a story that takes place several years before Daymare: 1998, also a video game in the genre. In the development of Invader Studios, players get into the shoes of special agent Dalila Reyes, a former government spy now in the service of a unit called H.A.D.E.S. (Advanced Exploration and Subtraction Six-Team), as he plunges into the darkness of the desolate, labyrinthine depths of a military research complex and faces terrible and deadly dangers.

3. The Medium

It is a third-person psychological horror action game developed by Bloober Team, creators of Layers of Fear. The player controls Marianne, a pregnant medium who has psychic abilities to connect with another spiritual reality, so she can explore the real world and the spiritual world at the same time. The Medium plays with the duality of two worlds: the physical and the spiritual. From there it is normal for the protagonist to relive memories to find the answer to many questions. Taking advantage of that circumstance, the game becomes quite disturbing in a very puzzling atmosphere. In addition to different puzzles, the protagonist will meet a monster born from an unspeakable tragedy.

2. Resident Evil Remake

The game takes place in Raccoon City, where a deadly virus has infected the population, turning them into zombies. The player takes control of Leon S. Kennedy, a rookie police officer, or Claire Redfield, a college student, as they try to survive and escape the city. One of the most impressive aspects of Resident Evil 2 Remake is its graphics. The game features highly detailed graphics and environments, which helps to create a spooky and immersive atmosphere. The sound is also impressive, with a haunting soundtrack and sound effects that keep you on your toes throughout the game. Gameplay-wise, Resident Evil 2 Remake maintains the series' mechanics of combining elements of survival, exploring a terrifying environment, and fighting enemies while seeking to solve puzzles and progress through the story.

Dead Space Remake

Dead Space, the sci-fi survival horror classic, returns, completely rebuilt from the ground up for a deeper, more immersive experience. This remake features astonishing visual fidelity, suspenseful ambient sound, and gameplay enhancements, without losing any of the bone-chilling vision of the original game. Isaac Clarke is a random engineer tasked with repairing the hulking extractor ship USG Ishimura , but you will discover that something has gone terribly wrong. The ship's crew have been murdered and his beloved companion Nicole is missing somewhere on board. With no one to accompany him and armed only with his tools and engineering skills, Isaac will have to hurry to find Nicole as he unravels the secret. terrifying mystery of what happened aboard the Ishimura. Trapped with hostile creatures, the necromorphs, Isaac faces a battle for survival not only against the horrors of the ship, but to avoid falling into madness.

I hope you find useful and liked the content and see you next time.

[art-of-manliness]

Odds and Ends: March 29, 2024

The Storm of Steel by Ernst Jünger. Maybe you’ve seen a movie and read a couple books about WWI. You think you know what it was like for the soldiers who fought in that war. Then you read The Storm of Steel and realize you truly didn’t grasp it at all. German officer Ernst Jünger’s book, which was drawn from his journal entries, drops you right into the trenches and offers the reader a visceral, unmatchable look into what it’s like to constantly face a gruesome death and kill other men. Jünger has sometimes been criticized for glorifying war, and while he does find glimmers of honor in the conflict (largely in the fidelity of his men) to a greater extent than many of his more cynical contemporaries, his detailed accounts of death and destruction leave no doubt as to war’s horrors and absurdities. Sometimes his reports of one attack and casualty after another become a little redundant, but overall, this is a compelling read that will leave you amazed as to just how unbelievable an experience WWI really was. Wool Dryer Balls. Do you know how fabric softener sheets work? Dryer sheets soften and remove static and wrinkles from clothes by depositing a chemical film on them. Not only might you not want these chems on your clothes, but the coating inhibits the absorbency and moisture-wicking properties of things like towels and synthetic workout shirts. Plus, they’re wasteful. We’ve swapped dryer sheets for wool dryer balls for several years now and are happy with the trade. They don’t soften and reduce wrinkles to the same extent as dryer sheets, but they get the job done and also reduce drying time. And you never have to buy fabric softener sheets again. The balls we link to are still going strong in our household three years after purchase and made in America; if you don’t care about their origin, you can buy them for much cheaper.  Fashion Nugget by Cake. I was a big Cake fan in high school and college. They’re one of the best rock shows I’ve seen. I don’t know why I stopped listening to them, but I re-discovered them again recently and have remembered why I enjoyed them so much. They just sound different from most rock bands. Their sound has a mix of rock, funk, and hip-hop, but also country music and mariachi. Their album Fashion Nugget is a good representation of their work. “Going the Distance” is still one of the all-time great pump-up songs for a race or game. That baseline is so dope.  Working With Your Hands Is Good for Your Brain. You’ve probably noticed that there’s something about doing things with your hands that’s uniquely satisfying. The reality of this feeling has been scientifically proven. Writing by hand has been shown to engage the brain significantly more than typing, and as this NYT article notes, research has shown that doing hands-on activities like painting and gardening result in “cognitive and emotional benefits, including improvements in memory and attention, as well as reductions in anxiety and depression symptoms.” In allowing you to witness the way that your actions can bring about a concrete result in the world, working with your hands may also combat the happiness-squashing state of learned helplessness. Of concern then, is what may happen to our mental states in a world where the need to work with our hands continues to contract. As one researcher observed, “Skills involving fine motor control of the hands are excellent training and superstimulation for the brain. The brain is like a muscle, and if we continue to take away these complex movements from our daily lives — especially fine motor movements — I think that muscle will weaken.” So exercise your brain this weekend by writing a real letter or tinkering in the garage.  Quote of the Week The great Easter truth is not that we are to live newly after death—that is not the great thing—but that we are to be new here and now by the power of the resurrection; not so much that we are to live forever as that we are to, and may, live nobly now because we are to live forever. —Phillips Brooks Help support… http://dlvr.it/T4pNQQ

[histoireettralala]

"Sometimes, the king is extremely satisfied with me": Richelieu and Louis XIII

The complicated collaboration of king and cardinal was fortified by strong emotional bonding. The beginning, of course, was shaky. The royal master was suspicious of this suave and sophisticated appointee who had alarming elements of Luynes's winsomeness and La Vieuville's self-assurance. While Richelieu's bright, ingratiating manner had worked well with Concini, Marie, and Luynes, it was not foolproof in the presence of a sovereign opposed by nature to flattery and arrogance. As late as 1629, the cardinal-minister pleaded with the king to trust his advisors, to listen to them and not their detractors, to support them even when they were critical (in private) of royal conduct. He concluded wistfully, "Sometimes the king is extremely satisfied with me; sometimes he takes a dislike [to my service]."

Fortunately, the master and servitor were able to build on their common ground and mutual needs. Although beholden for his entry to the council in 1624 to the good offices of the queen mother, Richelieu made it plain in a private meeting with Louis that he would serve king and state exclusively. This solemn vow, repeated throughout their long association, was backed constantly by his encouragement that Louis be "a great king". Richelieu was equally adept at playing the humble servitor who merely carried out his master's commands and would gladly resign if his services were no longer helpful- an effective counter to Louis's past suspicions about the cardinal's overbearing manner.

The cardinal-minister's letters illustrate this ongoing campaign of mutual indoctrination. Shortly after Richelieu replaced La Vieuville as the king's major advisor, he thanked "the great king" for elevating "mediocrities," signing himself "the very humble and very obedient servitor, le Cardinal de Richelieu." Within a year this complimentary closing lengthened to "the very humble, very faithful, and very indebted subject and servitor." That same year, the servitor told his master he would "maintain with the little spirit and industry that God has given me a total fidelity with which I will be, right down to my last breath, [your very humble . . . ]." In 1626 during the crisis surrounding Gaston's marriage, which appeared to threaten the cardinal's life and his sovereign's throne, Richelieu obeyed Louis's command to come to his side with the statement, "Your Majesty is so prudent and so wise that he cannot fail in his councils." The closing to this letter was more grateful than ever: "the very humble, very obedient, very faithful and very indebted subject and servitor." Thereafter, the complimentary closings remained the same; pledges to lay down the servitor's life for his master continued; and allusions to "the best master in the world" appeared frequently.

Louis warmed to Richelieu's words and the success of his policy analyses. There is a world of difference between the royal letter of 1622 referring to the bishop of Luçon as being among those "who favor the prosperity of my affairs" and that of 1631 assuring the trusted servitor "that I hold to what I have promised you, right to the last breath of my life." Two years later, Louis wrote, "I will always be the best master who ever walked this earth."

The change was gradual, with some emotional high points. In 1626, when Richelieu feigned sickness and offered to resign if that would ease the political crisis, Louis fell all over himself trying to express his gratitude. He wanted his servitor's good health "more than you do," the ruler asserted, "provided you find it in the care and principal charge of my affairs." He noted his satisfaction that "everything, thanks to God, has succeeded since you have been here [in my council]." And he concluded, "I shall protect you against whomever it may be, and I will never abandon you. . . . Rest assured that I will never change and that whoever attacks you, you will have me as your second." In a society where dueling was still the highest form of self-protection and acting as "second" to one's dueling friend the greatest mark of devotion, there was no stronger way for Louis the Just, who expressed his feelings so awkwardly, to describe his relationship with Cardinal Richelieu.

Did Louis XIII really mean what he said? Of course he did. Had he really done away with backbiting? No, there were always times when his darker side surfaced. So Richelieu was wise in following the practice common to early-seventeenth-century royal favorites and ministers, from Luynes and Lerma to Buckingham and Olivares. A series of pro-Richelieu fellow ministers, royal confessors, king's favorites, and other officials marched in review before the king from 1624 until the cardinal's death in 1642, all with Louis's full knowledge —first on occasion, and then more regularly, until by 1635 the king was surrounded by his own chief servitor's own servitors and surrogates.

The system had its drawbacks, notably in the case of royal favorites. Richelieu knew he could never fill all of his master's emotional needs. Hence it was in his own interest to cultivate Louis's attachment to an innocuous young courtier whom the king liked. That courtier, however, once master of the king's heart, might try to poison his mind against the cardinal during a dark mood, just as Richelieu had done against La Vieuville. Richelieu would then have to wage a campaign against this former friend. It was not easy; as in other matters, he won his point only by playing on the king's political conscience. Even then, Louis had to see with his own eyes that his loved one was violating the vow he had made after Luynes's death never to let a favorite interfere with statecraft.

A. Lloyd Moote - Louis XIII the Just