#blueberry hill books

[picturebookshelf]

Beaver Eats and Eat (2005)

Story: Pat Harrison -- Art: Judith Panson Canadian

[kamaluhkhan]

LONG HOT SUMMER NIGHT

pairing: luke castellan x fem!poseidon!reader word count: 8.4k chapter summary: it's the summer solstice and olympus is throwing a party! thalia notices the tension between you and luke, poseidon gives you some relationship advice and you punch the god of desire in the face. warnings: angst! jealous reader. lots of drinking. complicated relationships. reader dealing with ptsd + survivor's guilt (post-titan war). mention of injuries + blood. creepy guy pushing reader to hook up. ending is a bit steamy but no actual smut. spoilers for the entire pjo (book) series. no betrayal (au where chris was the one who sided w kronos and led the titan army) so slightly ooc luke <3 also reader is in a band called the midnight sirens and is born on the summer solstice! author's note: thank you so much for all the love for part 1!! summer is almost over and this is very much a summer series BUT summer's not over yet !!! hope y'all enjoy this one too and thanks 4 reading 💙

part 1 | series masterlist

♪: long hot summer night by jimi hendrix

mail to: 

Luke Castellan Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill 3.141 Farm Road Long Island, New York 11954

LUKE! 

I’m sitting in my kitchen right now, watching Percy make us blue blueberry pancakes and hoping he doesn’t burn down my kitchen while doing so. I caved and agreed to take him to Disneyland while he’s here and breakfast was part of the deal, but I think I might regret it later. 

We went surfing yesterday. It was Percy’s first time, but he was (unsurprisingly) amazing at it. I still can’t get over how beautiful the beaches are and the waves — gods, the waves are unreal. You’d seriously love it here. It’s like every day is summer. You have to come visit. PLEASE come visit!!!!

- [your initial]

P.S. The band and I are working on some new music, which means I won’t make it to camp again this summer. I’m sorry ;( Fingers crossed I’ll make it next year. 

P.P.S. hi luke! happy to report that i did not burn down my sister’s kitchen. anyways, can’t wait to kick your ass in sword-fighting this summer. xoxo, percy

THREE YEARS LATER 

the first time you visited olympus, you had been sent on a quest to retrieve zeus’ stolen lightning bolt, bringing luke and charles beckendorf along with you. you had missed the summer solstice deadline, but still tried to reason with the king of the gods when presenting the symbol of power, maybe calling him out once or twice along the way. before zeus could strike you down for your boldness, poseidon stepped in. the war between them was averted in fear of a much larger, looming threat; an ominous introduction for what was to come in the next chapter of your life.

another time, the gods debated whether or not they should kill you, some seeing you as a threat to their future. that was the day you accepted your destiny, not wanting your brother percy or your cousin nico to deal with the weight of the great prophecy. 

your last visit to olympus was on your 18th birthday, after helping to defeat kronos and his army. you made the gods swear to stop neglecting their kids and to allow all demigods, regardless of whether their parent was an olympian or not, to have a home at camp half-blood; to treat their children as children rather than heroes as pawns in their twisted games.

needless to say, it’s quite strange, being back here under very, very different circumstances, where the gods invited camp half-blood’s senior counsellors and staff to join in their summer solstice festivities.

it’s not every day you’ll be invited to a party on olympus; you’re determined to have a good time, to have fun. there’s already an abundance of music, dancing, food, or alcohol, and the night is just getting started.

you’re happy to be there with new and old friends, but you’re ecstatic when you see that thalia grace is there, too. 

“immortality looks good on you, t!” you compliment, raising your voice slightly over the music.

thalia preens, and you bask in her silver glow. 

“bet you wish you took the gods up on their offer, huh,” she teases. then, her eyes widen. “oh - shit! it’s your birthday! happy birthday!” 

thalia tackles you with another hug; even after all these years, she still smells like pine trees. she grabs two goblets of honeyed wine and hands one to you as you catch up. you eagerly gulp the sweet drink, until you’re reaching for another while listening to her stories about adventures she’d been on with the hunters of artemis. 

about halfway through her story about fighting off a manticore during a snow storm, a nymph appears with a platter of the ripest of fruit – sweet plums and fresh figs, tantalising pomegranates, succulent grapes and crisp apples. 

“oh my gods, this is the best apple i’ve had in my entire life!” thalia exclaims after indulging in a taste, herself giddy from a few goblets of wine. “where’s luke? he’s gotta try this — he’s always reminding us to eat more fruit. luke!” 

you hadn’t kept track of luke, at least not on purpose. you assumed he’d been off partying with van or his siblings, and, probably, avoiding you. wherever he was, thalia calls his name twice more and, like a ghost, luke appears. 

“i’m here, t.” luke’s voice is a deep, steady rumble floating above the music. his cheeks are slightly flushed, either from the heat or the drinks. likely both. “what’s up?”

“you need to try this.” thalia shoves the apple in his mouth before luke can respond. 

luke takes a bite, and some juice drips down his chin. you, in a honey-soaked haze, think about running your tongue over to catch it, but he beats you to it, wiping it away with the back of his hand. 

probably for the best.

“holy shit. yeah, it’s good.”

thalia, a sparkle in her eyes, urges you to try it as well. from across the makeshift triangle the three of you had formed, luke tosses the apple your way. you catch it effortlessly, and sink your teeth into it. 

you’ve almost overwhelmed by the burst of flavor. the fruit is just the right amount of tart to balance out the sweetness, and it’s damn near the best crunch you’ve ever experienced.

“good is an understatement,” you say after another bite. a distant memory crosses your mind. “i wonder if these are the same ones we almost got killed by a hellhound for.” 

thalia shakes her head, laughing in disbelief. “all because luke said we needed more vitamin c.”

“i was just looking out for us!” luke guffaws. “how was i supposed to know that persephone owned an apple orchard in connecticut?”

you pat his shoulder, the three of you smiling at the memory. “let’s call it an honest mistake.”

“well if annabeth had been with us by then, i’m sure that she wouldn’t have made that same honest mistake.” 

“okay, but she’s the daughter of athena —”

you let luke and thalia slip back into their playful bickering as if no time has passed. you listen and continue eating that glorious apple, enjoying how the golden glow of your shared past fills whatever distance might have grown between the three of you. 

somewhere down memory lane, luke’s amber eyes flick towards you.

“hey, you’ve got some….” without another word, luke suddenly reaches over to brush away a trail of juice with his thumb before sticking the finger in his mouth to savour the taste. he holds your gaze as he does so, and you feel a familiar kind of heat rush through your body — not from alcohol or summer sun, but from luke. 

it’s such an intimate gesture that you almost forget that you’re at some extravagant party on mount olympus, where gods and half-bloods and a whole bunch of other mythological creatures are celebrating the start of summer by essentially getting drunk together, until thalia clears her throat. 

“okay, well, seems like the two of you might want some alone time.”

luke’s cheeks grow more flushed than before, and his eyes widen as if realizing what he’d done.

“oh, we don’t need —”

“we’re not —”

you and luke both stumble over your words; thalia just smiles knowingly. 

“i’m gonna go flirt with that nymph,” she announces, pointing across the grand marble pavilion.

“i thought — doesn’t artemis sort of frown upon that sort of thing?” you ask.

“she makes exceptions on holidays. besides, i’m her favourite. you guys have fun.” thalia winks at you and walks away.

you glance at luke and, gods, there’s so much history between you. 

the time you jumped into an ocean full of sirens to save luke from drowning? you have a scar running down your forearm where one of them scratched you as you struggled to get luke towards the surface. 

or when you took turns holding up the sky while on a quest to save lady artemis and defeat the titan atlas? it’s evident in the matching streaks of grey that you each have running through your hair. whenever you see your reflection in the mirror, you remember how you couldn’t save your cousin bianca di angelo earlier that day, and how nico has had to grow up without a sister because of a promise you broke.

how about when you, luke, and one of your best friends were sent on a mission to destroy the princess andromeda, the headquarters of kronos’ army? only the two of you survived, and sometimes you can still feel luke squeezing your hand pike he did during charles beckendorf’s burial shroud ceremony while you both cried.

or when luke took a sword between the ribs for you because he, somehow, knew the one spot the curse of achilles left you vulnerable? he can only slouch for so long before the bones there start to ache.

so, yeah. there’s way too much history, and so many tangled threads, and now really isn’t an ideal time to unravel it all. 

“i’m gonna go find my dad,” you blurt out and disappear into the crowd with no real intention of finding your father. 

the once sweet apple now tastes rotten on your tongue; you rid yourself of it in exchange for some more wine. you’re determined to have fun — no pain or heartache or grief. 

you’ve all had enough of that for three lifetimes. 

summer — age 14

“sorry your birthday was ruined.” 

luke exhaled sharply when you pressed a disinfectant-soaked cloth to the wound on his leg.

“hold still,” was all you mumbled in response, brows knitted together as you wrapped the cut in gauze. 

once you were done with his leg, you moved on to luke’s hands, burned by poisonous acid. the four of you had run into a hydra earlier that night. you managed to wound it enough so you could all get away, but not before a few injuries were sustained. 

you were uncharacteristically quiet as you worked. you only met luke’s gaze to warn him before pouring some nectar on his wounds. you let luke hold your hand, tightly, as the liquid dripped through his fingers and down to yours, first right, then left. the pain was instant, seering almost as much as the hydra acid, but it was over quickly. the last thing you did was bandage each hand before getting up. 

“i’m…i’m gonna check on thalia and annabeth. i’ll take first watch.”

luke caught your hand before you got away.

“wait. you’re bleeding.” he pointed to the cut on your brow. you had been so preoccupied in making sure everyone else was safe that you let crimson liquid drip down your face. it probably stung, too, based on your grimace.

luke wiped away the blood with his sleeve, used nectar to disinfect the wound, and dressed it with a fresh bandage, working silently as you did.

“it’s still your birthday,” luke finally said once he was done. “you get some rest; i’ll take first watch.”

you gave him a small, strained smile before checking on the others. 

later that night, you stayed up with luke anyways. 

seemingly out of nowhere, you handed him your portable cassette player. luke stared at it for a moment, unwilling to comprehend just what you were offering and, more importantly, why. 

you and luke had grown accustomed to sharing things: flannels, socks, makeshift beds and scavenged food. but this —

it was your aunt’s. 

you never met your mother, who’d left you as a baby, and of course, poseidon was too busy tending to his underwater kingdom to step in as a parent. your aunt raised you as her own. and then you lost her, too. 

you kept her cassette player buried deep in your bag with some mixtapes she had made and ones you’d stolen throughout the years. when it wasn’t your turn to keep watch, luke would sometimes catch you with headphones on, looking up at the stars. 

luke liked to think he knew you well; all those subtle elements that made you — the crack of your knuckles, the cadence of your voice, the slope of your nose, the dreams of your childhood. engraved in his own personhood. bones and all. 

and, still: he didn’t know you, not entirely. 

you’d only allowed luke to listen with you once, maybe twice. he’d never forget what it was like: knees pressed together and heads just as close to keep the wires from stretching too far; you gushing about the magic of jimi hendrix, recounting memories that echoed through gentle guitar riffs; luke yearning for one more song to play, for another a wistful smile of yours to appear. luke, wishing to linger in your private oasis a beat longer before you pushed him out again and closed the door behind him. 

the one lock luke couldn’t crack: your grief, and how you carried on so buoyantly despite its weight.

well, there you were, presenting the key to luke as an offering. a sacrifice for something luke would never ask of you. 

“this….” luke swallowed the lump in his throat, refusing to look at you. he turned the device over in his bandaged hands, the metal smooth, though well-worn. “you can’t just —”

leave. you can’t just leave. you can’t just —

“hey.” 

your hand over his, forcing him to stop spiralling and look at you. 

right away, luke regretted it. a small sliver of him, however delusional, had hoped that you were joking. 

you weren’t. behind you, there was an empty space where you had previously wedged your sleeping bag. your backpack was already strapped around your shoulders, fully packed. 

“i need to leave, luke. we can’t stay together. it’s too dangerous.”

“you don’t need to —”

“there’s more of us, now,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away to rest on your thigh. “four demigods together isn’t ideal. we’ve been attracting more monsters. more deadly monsters.”

“that would happen, anyways. it always has whether it’s the four of us, the two of us, or….” 

luke stopped his sentence short, not even wanting to give you the idea to go out on your own, even though you’d probably been thinking about leaving for some time. 

you made reckless decisions sometimes, but this didn’t seem to be one of them.

“well, it’s happening more.” your voice was steady, too steady. luke imagined you rehearsing just what to say to counter the inevitable backlash. 

luke shook his head. “i’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“you almost died because of me,” you clipped. you lifted a hand to touch the bruise on luke’s jaw, but let it drop just as quickly. “you know that children of the big three cause more trouble. maybe we managed it when it was the two of us, but now, there’s more to consider. a child of poseidon and a child of zeus, travelling together. it’s like we’re asking to be killed. it’s too dangerous.”

“that’s our life,” luke snapped. “you can’t just run from it.” from us.

you faltered, looking back to where annabeth and thalia were sleeping peacefully. 

oh. he must have said that last part out loud, too. 

“you know i’m right,” is all you said.

luke could only shake his head again. because, fine, you weren’t entirely wrong. it was more dangerous — but it was danger luke hoped you’d all face, together. 

“i’ve made up my mind,” you added, an anchor in the sand.

“don’t leave.” luke’s words came out as a prayer. if he offered something, maybe you’d stay.

you paused to take a shaky breath. “this isn’t goodbye, luke. i swear to poseidon…fuck, i swear to all the gods that this isn’t goodbye.”

luke couldn’t speak. there were tears bubbling in his throat, threatening to spill. 

“so, keep this for me,” you whispered, once again placing your hand on top of luke’s. his fingers gripped your cassette player tightly, like it was the only piece of driftwood leftover from a shipwreck, keeping him from sinking into the cold, dark nothing. “you’ll give it back when we see each other again.”

a promise. 

“fine,” luke conceded, though he wanted to scream at you. he wanted to argue like little kids — petty, loud, meaningless, back and forth until tears streamed down cheeks and throats were raw. 

but, you were leaving, one way or another. luke didn’t want this shared memory to be tainted if it might be your last.

“you have to take this, then. give it back when we see each other again.”

luke removed the chain from around his neck, the one that held the key to his childhood home. he placed it around yours, instead.

he didn’t need the key now, but his mother had given it to him when he was six. before he knew what it meant to be the son of hermes, god of thieves. 

call him sentimental, but luke had kept it. just in case he ever got lost. 

“if you’re ever back in connecticut, you have a home.”

“yeah, okay.” you smiled softly. 

it fell just as quickly. 

“take care of them,” you told him. “of yourself, too. i’ll see you again when it’s safe.”

luke didn’t ask when it would be safe, because the truth is that it might never be.

“because you want your cassette player back?” luke joked, instead trying to lighten the mood, to capture one last moment of brightness.

you laughed softly to not wake the others. 

“yeah. that too.”

you pressed your forehead to his, something you hadn’t done since you were kids. 

“i’ll see you again,” you repeated.

without another word, you got up and jogged away. luke shut his eyes, refusing to see you become nothing but a shadow. 

(you looked back several times, but he couldn’t see through the darkness.)

now

call the gods out on their bullshit (you encourage it), but if they have one thing going for them, it’s that the olympians know how to throw a party. 

the night grows darker, yet somehow becomes more lively. demeter and persephone had supplied a generous amount of fresh, decadent fruit, and dionysus an even more generous amount of wine. apollo starts a karaoke corner and you’re just tipsy enough to agree to sing a duet with him in order to break the ice. apparently, he’s a big midnight sirens fan and had seen your band when you headlined at glastonbury festival. you smile to yourself, imagining your bandmates’ faces if you told them that the god of music had watched you perform.

as you hand the microphone to a giggling dryad, the sound of your name washes over like gentle waves on a shore.

“if it isn’t my sweet, summer child!” your father brings you in for a hug and an ocean breeze engulfs you — salt and sand and sun. 

“hi dad,” you exhale as you pull away. 

you hadn’t seen each other in a while, but poseidon looks the same. he’s dressed in a turquoise hawaiian shirt and birkenstocks with a crown of seashells on his head. there’s a cocktail umbrella in his glass, a slice of pineapple wedged onto the rim. you’re about to ask him how he managed to secure a pina colada and where you might find one, too.

“that was quite the performance!” poseidon takes an eager sip of his drink, green eyes sparkling like sea glass in the sun. “i must tell you: your newest album is all the rage in atlantis. the nereids and merpeople can’t seem to get enough of it and, truthfully, i find myself playing it on repeat as well. you’re quite talented.” 

you try not to let your shock slip through, instead smiling and asking how things are in his underwater kingdom, but you’re….touched at your father’s unexpected praise.

the gods aren’t perfect, and your father is no exception. they’re divine beings who have time to conceive children, but not to raise them. there’s a long history of them abandoning, mistreating, and manipulating their own offspring. of course, being the prophecy child, it became practically impossible for your father to ignore you; you’re sure that being dubbed the saviour of olympus gives him bragging rights with his immortal family. even with their sworn promise to change, it’s impossible not to resent the gods in some ways. 

still, you feel comforted by your father's presence at times — when you catch the perfect wave on your surfboard, for example, or when you sit on your fire escape during a storm after a bad day. it’s been like that pretty much all your life: poseidon there in spirit, not in practice. despite everything, he’s watched over you, and percy, throughout the years.

and here poseidon is now, grinning at you like you’re his pride and joy. 

“enough about aquatic politics.” he pats your shoulder enthusiastically after telling you about the struggles of keeping humans from overfishing. “i came over to wish you a happy birthday. and to give you this.” 

poseidon reaches into the pocket of his shirt and hands you something you’d long thought gone: a leather cord with several clay beads and a silver key.

“i found it off the california coast,” he explains. “i kept meaning to get it to you, but i suppose time has a way of getting away from us, immortal or not.”

a warmth grows in your chest as you run your thumb over your old camp necklace, bright and full. it had fallen off one day when you’d gone surfing, and you assumed it was lost to the ocean. you'd been given a fresh leather cord when you arrived at camp earlier this summer, but it felt empty. hollow.

“thanks, dad.” 

you smile at him as you put on the necklace; it feels like coming home. your father then asks you about your summer so far.

you tell him all about your life as of late, until you catch a glimpse of luke with van on a marble bench at the other end of the pavilion. van is sitting in luke’s lap, and they lean over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. 

you freeze mid-way through your sentence.

sensing the shift in mood, poseidon frowns. he turns his head to follow your gaze.

“ah.” poseidon turns back to you and clears his throat. “now, i don’t mean to pry, but i saw you earlier with the castellan boy.”

you flush at the fact that your moment with luke was witnessed by your own father. “dad —”

“did you know in ancient greece, throwing someone an apple and having them catch it is considered a marriage proposal?”

“i’m pretty sure that was disproven,” you scoff.

poseidon raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused. “which one of us was actually there, hm?” and though you roll your eyes, you can’t argue with that. “i just wanted to know if there was a wedding happening in the near future.”

you almost choke on the last remnants of your wine. “dad.”

“i’m kidding. i’m kidding! mr. castellan seems otherwise occupied.” 

“yeah, it does seem that way,” you grumble.

poseidon puts a hand on your shoulder, firm but reassuring. “regardless: if you find someone who would go to tartarus and back with you, someone who would fight alongside you every step of the way, you hold on to them. there’s only so much time you mortals have on this earth.”

you sigh — easier said than done — but your father is trying, so you manage a nod.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

“now, i better go — ” poseidon looks over your shoulder, where the air behind you starts to feel staticky. “it seems a disagreement is brewing between zeus and hades. they always get into it whenever dionysus makes the wine a bit too strong. brother, put away the lightning bolt —” and he rushes away to prevent another divine conflict from arising.

left to your own devices, you venture over to the food table, finding an array of fresh and dried fruit, breads, cured meat, fresh oysters and, of course, more wine. you grab a goblet and a few dried figs.

“careful, i heard dionysus made the wine extra strong tonight,” someone warns, creeping up beside you. the voice is soft and alluring, and you feel something tug at your heart. 

you do a double take when you turn to them; the person is devilishly handsome, a golden aura paired with a golden smile. 

(you will soon find out that the god flirting with you is the son of ares and aphrodite, the latter of which takes the appearance of whoever the onlooker loves. as it turns out, her son appears in the same way. 

all this to say: it doesn’t mean anything that this god looks like luke castellan to you. 

it doesn’t mean anything at all.)

“i’m eros.”

“hey. i’m —”

“i know who you are, savior of olympus.” eros winks at you. “i just never realized you were so beautiful.”

your cheeks heat up as you take a sip of your drink.

oh, shit. 

okay. the literal god of desire and pleasure is flirting with you. 

you’re flattered, really, and maybe the wine has gotten to your head, but you’re not eager to turn him away.

“well, i’ve definitely heard about you, and the rumors do not do you justice,” you quip, painting on a flirtatious smile.

eros puffs out his chest, clearly pleased. 

over the next few minutes, you decide that eros can hold a decent conversation, asking you the classic first date questions about your likes and dislikes, and he’s cute enough that you wouldn’t mind things going further. 

(he might be a god, but he’s no luke. you push that thought away, and force yourself to flirt with helios. eros. right, eros.)

eros leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze drop every so often to the deep v-neck of your shirt.  

“no way! 13 going on 30 is a classic,” you argue. you nudge your shoulder into eros’s playfully, and let the contact between you linger. eros, the inspiration for cupid himself, has angel wings, and you feel them brush softly against your burning skin. 

“it’s totally overrated!” eros exclaims. “also, the childhood friends to lovers trope gives people false hope.”

“it’s not false hope. it’s about the buildup to their happily ever after,” you reason, swallowing some wine to dislodge the lump in your throat.

eros shakes his head. “trust me, baby, it’s all about the instant attraction. that’s where the excitement is.” 

he’s so close now, you can smell the sharp alcohol on his breath. not wine, but something stronger.

“oh? what do you mean by that?” you lean impossibly closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

eros smirks, placing a hand on your thigh. “want me to demonstrate?” 

not even a second after you whisper a yes, eros crashes his lips onto yours, and you will yourself to kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. 

you’re making out with the god of desire and passion, so, objectively, it’s a good first kiss: soft around the edges and firm where it needs to be.

sure — you feel nothing, no real spark, but it’s almost enough to fill the hole in your heart in the shape of a certain son of hermes. 

the son of hermes who has moved on and is in a loving relationship with a perfect emotionally available partner. 

so, it’s fine. 

this, this thing with eros, is fine. 

you’re fine.

eros pulls away first, but keeps a hand on your cheek.

“let's get out of here.” 

he grabs your wrist before you have a chance to answer. you stand up, let him weave you through the crowd towards the stairs of the pavilion. apparently, his room is just through the garden. 

as he tugs you along, he looks back at you, smiling. under the glow of the stars, eros looks just like luke, except it’s becoming harder to ignore that he isn’t luke and that makes you feel all sorts of nauseous. your camp necklace weighs on your chest and, in particular, the silver key that you’d kept for all those years burns through your skin. 

lightheaded, you pull away from eros’ grip just as you reach the top of the stairs and place a hand on the column next to you to steady yourself.

eros turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just…keep talking here.”

eros grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” his tone is ever-so-gentle, but there’s an edge behind his words. 

this time, your voice comes out more assertive. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“come on, baby, don’t you wanna experience what real passion is? this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that a million girls would kill for. you’d be an idiot to pass it up.” he brags, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose, god or not. 

“i don’t care,” you snap, struggling to break free from his grip. “and i’m not your baby.”

“okay, whatever,” eros rolls his eyes, but quickly plasters on an arrogant grin. “we’ll go somewhere private and i’ll call you whatever you want.”

he manages to drag you down two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage and use your strength to rip out of his grip, forcing eros to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he snaps, whipping his head around once more. 

he looks nothing like luke, now.

“just stop, eros.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little kid. so much for being the savior of olympus. “trust me, i know what people want, so you don’t have to be shy. i promise to be the best you’ve ever had —”

“eros, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s percy, giving eros one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. percy, your little brother who talks to lonely fish at the aquarium; who, if you cut open, would bleed blue m&m’s; who would never let anyone, god or otherwise, hurt someone he loves. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my sister.”

“mind your own business, kid,” eros hisses. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you down another step, but you stand your ground.

annabeth, no longer the scared little seven year old you, luke, and thalia found behind a dumpster, is also glaring at liam from the top of the stairs. one of her hands rests firmly on her belt, where she keeps her dagger. 

“i’d back off, if i were you,” she warns. “wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“just mind your own business,” eros snarls.

“they said leave her alone,” thalia asserts, walking over once she sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” she clenches her hand into a fist.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” percy orders. “my sister can do a lot better than a minor god with a major god complex.” 

eros growls, baring his teeth at percy. “you impertinent little shit.”

as soon as eros lunges for your brother, you tug one of his wings towards you, hard. he whips around and you take the opportunity to punch him in the face. he doubles over, golden ichor gushing from his nose.

“i’d be careful if i were you, baby,” you seethe. “you wouldn’t want to go up against the demigods who led an army against kronos and won. unless, of course, humiliation is a kink of yours.” you laugh humorlessly at the way eros scowls at your words. “to each their own,” you continue. “but i’m not in the mood to fuck an entitled creep with angel wings to compensate for his tiny dick. you better fucking respect that, and leave us alone while you’re at it.”

eros’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only entitled, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a few blows to their ego. 

call it stupidity or arrogance, but his only response is a punch delivered right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but percy manages to reach out and catch you before you fall down the stairs. he holds you as thalia and annabeth create a barrier between you and eros. you hear them shouting at eros over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is suddenly all fuzzy. percy tries his best, but you slump your body weight into his and he almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” luke’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. “from what i remember, you were too much of a coward to even step foot on the battlefield, so i’d listen to her if you know what’s good for you.” in a haze, you guess that luke is directing his sharp words towards eros, before turning to the others and instructing: “you guys take care of this — find clarisse if you need back up.”

somehow, you find yourself over in a small secluded temple, sitting on a window bench overlooking the clouds as luke sits next to you.

like most of olympus, the building is made of marble with gold accents; this one has roses engraved on the walls, and the space smells like flowery perfume. it’s much quieter than the pavilion, though you can hear laughter and music in the distance. it’s cooler, too, but not by much; even without all the body heat, you're left with sticky summer air, and luke’s breath on yours, sweet with wine and ripe fruit, as he carefully examines your injury.

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him after all) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

“thought the curse of achilles would protect you from nosebleeds.”

“guess it doesn’t protect against —” what did percy call eros? “ — minor gods who have major god complexes,” you recite.

luke looks slightly amused. “that’s a shame,” he hums. “would have been nice to get one birthday without being injured.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the dull ache from your nose.

“you remembered.”

“of course i remember,” luke almost scoffs like the mere suggestion of forgetting what day you were born is an insult to his very character. he meets your gaze, and you could melt when he offers you that lopsided smile of his, painfully familiar. “happy birthday, aquagirl,” and it’s the softest he’s spoken to you in a while. just like old times.

he remembers. 

somewhere within him, luke holds on to fragments of you.

he wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of his silk white button-down now stained crimson. “how’s your hand?” he asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

“i guess all those years away didn’t change anything. still willing to put a god in their place, huh?”

all those years away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, and you’re worried that it might burst the comfortable bubble you and luke had drunkenly stumbled into. 

thankfully, luke continues:

“the kids really take after you.”

he says as a joke, mostly, but there’s a sincerity in those deep brown eyes of his, too. something you also hadn’t seen from him in a while. 

the kids, who you’d in some ways raised together when monsters were trying to kill you and the gods didn’t care enough to stop it. 

the family you and luke had built together despite being born into the world of greek tragedies. 

“as if annabeth wasn’t threatening to pull the dagger you gave her, skywalker,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “besides, they’re not kids anymore.”

“yeah.” he pauses. “neither are we.” 

luke’s fingers trace your camp necklace, brush against your collarbone. the breath hitches in your throat.

here you are again, at the edge of something real and very scary, and you fear luke is going to push the two of you over. 

but he doesn’t. instead, luke suggests, jokingly: “maybe we should start a fight club at camp.” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s hoping to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it. before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re practically ignoring each other.

where you’re fine, but really. 

you snort. “chiron and mr. d would love that.”

“like they’d ever find out!” luke explains. “you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

luke laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

and that’s the thing that really, truly gets you. 

try as you might to ignore it, some days it’s hard to forget the pain and heartache and grief. 

you still feel like your life is a battlefield; you still see the ghosts of everyone you couldn’t save even though people call you a savior; you still have those scars, inside and out, that seemed healed but ache every once and a while. 

but that isn’t all. 

sometimes it hurts more thinking back to the good times and knowing, deep down, you can never go back.

summer — age 13

“ugh — you think with all their power, the gods could help stop global warming,” you groaned, swatting away a mosquito that tried to land on you. “do you think they have air conditioning on olympus?”

“oh, for sure,” luke quipped. he gave you a lopsided smile, his curls sticking to his forehead, drenched in sweat. 

it was the summer solstice, the longest and the hottest day of the year so far. the two of you had found a perfectly good hideout, but luke insisted that this place would be worth the move. 

he’d been leading you down side streets for what felt like forever. the sun had already set, and you were very close to passing out from the heat, until luke finally stopped at a door behind an alley, with a sign reading CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. 

luke knelt down to do whatever son-of-hermes lock magic he had to do to get the door open. he flipped a switch, and you winced at the sudden overwhelming brightness. 

the destination was different than the hideouts you usually sprung for: those small, hole-in-the-wall type places. instead, this space was big and bright, filled with arcade games and fun posters and neon colours. the type of place a kid might have a party or where a group of normal teenagers might spend their friday night. 

“what…what is this?”

“you thought i forgot, didn’t you?” luke smirked at you. he sat down on the colourful carpet, taking out some snacks, a small plastic bag with coins, a wrapped box, and a plastic blue crown, and gestured for you to join.

you did, in fact, think that luke had forgotten your birthday. 

birthdays were bittersweet for children of gods, who were constantly reminded that any year could be their last, their youth cut short by monsters or prophecies or a fatal flaw. all the two of you usually did on either birthday was split any sweet treat you could get your hands on. 

it wasn’t a big deal, really, to skip that tradition of yours. there were much more urgent things to worry about, like finding food and water and shelter, and not being devoured by monsters. 

you did think it was strange that luke hadn’t so much as said happy birthday to you all day, but you knew that he loved you.

(like a friend loves a friend. nothing else, no matter how much your stomach fluttered at the thought of him.) 

“i wanted to surprise you,” luke explained once you claimed your spot next to him. he reached over to place the crown on your head. “i found this place a few days ago during a food run. it reminds me of where we had your —”

“eighth birthday party, yeah.” you smiled at the memory of running around and feeding quarters to every machine and trying every game, of your classmates singing happy birthday to you off-key before you all stuffed your faces with sickly sweet confetti cake. 

truthfully, you never thought about having another celebration like that again.

but, it was five years from that faded childhood memory, and luke was presenting you with something you didn’t even realize you had needed: the chance to be a kid again.

“so,” luke got up, a wide smile on his face. he held the plastic bag in one hand, extending the other to you. “which do you wanna play first?”

you started with space invaders, then moved on to dragon’s lair and pac-man. you took a break before street fighter ii so that luke could ceremoniously light a candle and present a cupcake that had been tossed around in his bag (but you were still very, very grateful for), along with fresh batteries for your portable cassette player. he had made you a mixtape too, though you couldn’t figure out how. 

your last stop was a photobooth. you vowed to keep those pictures — a collection of you and luke together, smiling bright and colourful, goofing off and laughing — for the rest of your life.

now

those moments from past summers are like popsicles melting in the sun: tangible for a limited time before leaving you with a sickly sweet mess of what once was. 

you think about what happened earlier, how percy, annabeth, and thalia stepped in to protect you, still the brave kids you had once known so well. how luke is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve silently agreed to give each other the cold shoulder. 

maybe luke is right. maybe all those years away didn’t change anything. 

except — once you leave this temple and the alcohol leaves your system, it won’t be the same. 

none of you are kids anymore, if you ever even were. 

“why’d you go for eros, anyway?” luke asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes his sleeve from your nose since the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. most gods are assholes. and you’re…” luke places a hand close to your leg, pinky finger brushing your thigh. “you.”

“i went for eros because….well, honestly, i don’t think i cared who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with luke is running out. 

luke’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s close enough that he’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on luke’s — messy and urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you move to straddle his waist. you taste wine on his tongue, and maybe a hint of sweet pears, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him. luke’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“luke,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

luke wipes away the blood with his thumb. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s an echo of footsteps on the marble floor. a flower nymph, there to leave an offering and let you know that, while aphrodite encourages acts of love, she prefers it doesn’t happen in her place of worship. 

you realize that aphrodite also might not look so fondly at you kissing someone else in her place of worship after publicly rebuking her own son.

luke untangles himself from you, and you know that he’s been jolted back to reality, too. 

and, just like that, another moment has melted away.

your father was right. time has a way of slipping away for us, immortal or not.

summer — age 18

“hey, you awake?”  

“yeah,” you replied softly. sleep hadn’t been easy, in the days and weeks and months leading up to that final battle with kronos and his army. 

and once it was all over? 

you rested your head on luke’s shoulder, sword discarded at your feet and armour half-removed, as argus, the hundred-eyed security guard of olympus, drove a school bus with a dozen or so demigods back to camp.

“why’d you turn down their offer?” luke whispered.

oh.

"why...why do you ask?"

"i don't know." luke paused. "just curious, i guess."

you closed your eyes and replayed that moment on olympus when you refused the gift of immortality. the look of shock written on the gods’ faces. and on luke’s.

“i don’t care about living forever,” you told him bluntly.

forever seemed too long, especially for someone who was prophesied to die at 18.

you tilted your head up to meet luke’s gaze, and his messy curls brushed against your forehead. evidence of the battle was clear on his face: caked-on dirt and blossoming bruises and dried blood. 

behind him, outside the bus window, the world was flying by. a child who had fallen off their bike being comforted by a friend. two people sharing an mp3 player and a pair of earbuds. an elderly couple walking their dog.

“you once told me that this was our life,” you continued, gesturing towards the weapons and battle-worn kids, some quiet, others crying, many injured. “what if it didn’t have to be?” 

luke furrowed his brow. “do you mean….are you talking about leaving?”

you shrugged. running from monsters for your entire childhood then being the child of the great prophecy was a lot.

a break might be nice.

there was so much about the world, the one you’d fought and bled to protect, that you wanted to experience. 

maybe something closer to a normal life.

“would you ever leave camp?” you wondered, not really answering luke's question. 

“no,” luke replied instantly. his fingers started fiddling with the beads on his necklace. “i can’t just walk away, not after everything.”

“yeah, i get that.” and you did; you really, truly, did. the guilt of wanting to leave camp curled in your stomach like a venomous snake. you took a shaky breath. “let’s talk about this later, yeah? i’m tired, and we have the rest of — ”

the rest of the summer slipped away in the blink of an eye. gone, before you even had a real chance to say goodbye.

you closed your eyes and held on to luke, as if gripping his arm would anchor you to something you weren't ready to let go of, but in some ways needed to move on from.

it was no use, though. 

by the end of august, you’d be gone too. 

now 

you learned early on that the curse of achilles doesn’t protect you from hangovers.

you wake up the morning after the celebration on olympus with a deep, throbbing pain lodged in your temple and an uncomfortable swirling in your gut. parties and late nights at bars are common on tour, which means migraines are, too, so you have a routine to make sure you’re not out of commission for too long.

except this time, the aspirin and blue gatorade and dry toast don’t work. the sting in your brain and uneasiness in your stomach doesn’t go away, even after a few days. you haven’t been able to sleep, either.

desperate for a cure, you consult lou ellen, head counsellor of the hecate cabin, who you’d unexpectedly grown close to in the past few weeks. she mixes something for you, while asking if there’s something that’s been weighing on you.

you couldn't keep it in anymore; you tell her about the summer solstice and luke.  

later, with nothing but your thoughts and percy’s snoring occupying your time post-curfew, you grab your phone and flip it open, deciding to finally reach out to luke, when you get a text from him.

luke is already on the beach when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you sit next to him on the sand, but not too close. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell anyone that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, word travels fast around camp, and i don’t want van finding out. it’s not like it meant anything.”

the throbbing in your brain becomes a sharper sting, the uneasiness in your stomach a tidal wave of nausea.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to luke’s stoic demeanor.

luke shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with eros happened…we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing?” the word tastes bitter in your mouth.

luke turns away before he answers. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he sighs. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. whatever you came here for, it's not here for you. there's nothing to go back to. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, luke.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay luke’s words as you crawl into bed, holding back tears so as to not disturb percy. finally, you swallow a generous amount of whatever concoction lou ellen had brewed up for you.

drifting off into your own sleep, you decide that you don’t love luke anymore. not as a friend, not as a.....

nope. 

according to luke, there's not even anything to go back to.

nothing.

nothing.

[what-even-is-thiss]

I feel like when it comes to the stardew valley spouses Sebastian would be the one I settle down with but Elliot is the one I think about at night.

He shines too brightly. He’s a little too loud. But he still makes my gay little heart jump the same way it did the first time. Every time.

But Sebastian is more stable. Sebastian loves you but can still have his own life separate from you. And he’s there. Quiet, but he’s there.

But Elliot alone in his cabin side eyes me every time I walk down to the beach. I meet his eyes a bit too long at festivals. We both know. We both know if one of us asked we would. But we won’t. It seems that he’s destined to be lonely and I am destined to be trapped. If not in my corporate job then there on that farm with that cozy safe husband and children, crops that need tending to, animals that need feeding.

Is anyone unhappy? No. Elliot has his modest success. He can live modestly off of his book sales. In time he grows old on that beach just as he feared, but it’s not so bad. He’s the town eccentric. He’s the local writer. He writes a new novel every year. A cheap little thing bought at an airport bookstore. A romance writer whose books are eaten and discarded within a week. And he’s happy.

And I sell my little artisan goods. Cheese and wine mostly these days. We put a little skull and crossbones on the wine bottles, just to be edgy. Just because we can. Children grow up in a stable and happy home with all the space in the world to run through the blueberry fields, their adoption papers framed on the wall, their slightly weird alternative dads taking them on motorcycle rides through the mountains. We’re quiet. We only get out on Fridays. Everyone knows us but we don’t hold hands at the store.

Elliot and I sit at the same table in the bar that Leah does. I know her slightly less than I know him. This town has become weirder. That’s good. We chat. Elliot is a messy drunk. Sometimes he gets a little too close to my face when he’s tipsy but he always stops himself. Everyone knows I wouldn’t stop him if he leaned in. Including my husband. We’ve never spoken about it but he’s not dumb. Everyone knows. Everyone also knows that nothing has happened. But it always could.

But Elliot doesn’t lean in. Maybe it’s the smell of dirt on me that breaks the image of me he has in his mind. Maybe it’s the public space. Maybe it’s Sebastian playing pool in the corner. Maybe if he was drunk in a private space everything would come apart. Both of our perfect on paper little lives.

Maybe if this were one of Elliot’s books we would run away together, abandon everything in the middle of the night. But neither of us would like that, really. Both of us are a one person at a time kind of guy. And we both know I made the right choice.

I still have dreams though. Of him and I on a rowboat in the middle of the ocean. He cannot contain himself and kisses me in a fit of passion. Like a vision from another universe where I’m just as happy as I am now. A parallel mirror world where I never climbed onto the back of that motorcycle and ran down the hill to the beach instead, where everything lasted for more than just that one summer.

[hooked-on-elvis]

ONE NIGHT WITH YOU OF SIN ❤️‍🔥

50s Elvis can't sing something like this!

Well, this is something I just found out. That's why I love listening to Elvis' songs and researching on them. We always can learn interesting things that took place during the recording sessions, which makes EP's songs much, much precious.

I was listening to "Elvis: From the Vaults 50's" album, released as part of the 60-CD set "Elvis Presley: The Album Collection" (2016) — I love the "Elvis: From the Vaults" trilogy to death, by the way — when I crossed something very interesting.

The song "One Night (With You)", that Elvis performed with such passion during the '68 Comeback Special, was recorded by him in the 50s and originally had a slightly different lyrics.

The most known version, the "light" or "family friendly" (per say) version of the chorus of this one song goes like this:

"One night with you is what I'm now praying for."

The "explicit" version tho, as originally written by Dave Bartholomew and that came to be a R&B hit for Smiley Lewis in 1956, the version of the song Elvis recorded in 1957, actually sounds like this:

"One night of sin is what I'm now paying for."

I mean, the lyrics is clearly about sex in either words, but why the change in the words actually happened really intrigued me. I, as usually, looked for answers in one of my favorite books, and that's what I'm gonna share with you now.

So, Elvis was recording songs for the '57 Loving You movie soundtrack when the song was recorded. "One Night" was meant to be featured in this soundtrack album but it wasn't. The track went through a long way before it was put out there to Elvis' audience. To give you an idea, Elvis released the Loving You soundtrack album (June 20, 1957), recorded the songs that were featured in the Jailhouse Rock movie (there wasn't an official soundtrack album out for this movie), released one Christmas album ("Elvis' Christmas Album" - October 15, 1957) and the King Creole soundtrack album too (September 19, 1958), all of this before "One Night (With You)" could be finally released in October 1958, moment he was already officially "Private Presley", serving the US Army while stationed in Germany. But... what happened? Why this song wasn't featured in the Loving You movie and its soundtrack album released in 1957? Why the lyrics changed?

LET'S DIG INTO IT:

SOUNDTRACK RECORDINGS FOR PARAMOUNT’S LOVING YOU - JANUARY 15–18, 21–22 (PARAMOUNT SCORING STAGE) AND FEBRUARY 14, 1957 (RADIO RECORDERS, HOLLYWOOD) (...) When Hal Wallis asked for a few more songs for the movie, Elvis and the boys spent some time rehearsing cover versions of Fats Domino’s current hit "Blueberry Hill" and Smiley Lewis’s "One Night (Of Sin)," written by Domino’s musical partner Dave Bartholomew and credited in part to Bartholomew’s wife.

LISTEN TO SMILEY LEWIS’S "ONE NIGHT (OF SIN)":

So, Elvis first covered this song, and it was recorded in studio, as originally written but the official song he performed had a new lyrics. Let's understand why he recorded the song again before putting it out there for us to listen to.

STUDIO SESSIONS FOR RCA JANUARY 19, 1957: RADIO RECORDERS, HOLLYWOOD (...) Both the Colonel and RCA had serious reservations about the words of the song, but Elvis liked it so much that they appealed to Hill & Range to negotiate with the song’s copyright holder, Lew Chudd of Imperial Records, for permission to rewrite the lyrics.

--

STUDIO SESSIONS FOR RCA FEBRUARY 23–24, 1957: RADIO RECORDERS, HOLLYWOOD (...) Meanwhile the new, bowdlerized lyrics for the Dave Bartholomew song had been produced as requested; "One night of sin is what I’m now paying for" became "One night with you is what I'm now praying for," and the deal they'd prayed and paid for freed them to pencil the song in for the Loving You album. In the end, the rewrite was a fortunate stroke. The discerning listener might have missed the more direct lyrics of the original, but Elvis's performance on the new version made up for it: Freed from worry about the song itself, he was all intensity and command. "One Night" was so good, in fact, that it was eventually dropped from the soundtrack and picked as a single with "I Beg Of You" for some indeterminate future date.

So, yes, the song needed the change in the lyrics because of its content. It was too sexual, too explicit to Elvis' audience, mainly composed by teenagers. Elvis apparently wasn't bother by this. He liked the song anyway, even with the new lyrics. He liked the idea of releasing this song but although "One Night", as recorded by Elvis in 1957, was considered a fine material for a new single, Elvis was such a perfectionist he used to redo many of his recordings before he considered they were proper to be released. He was the man picking his own singles, so they always needed his approval before they were out. He wanted work some more in "One Night" because he was not satisfied with the result, but other songs came in the way.

One work after the other, there wasn't time to redo this track recording before Elvis became a soldier in 1958. When "One Night" was finally released it was against Elvis' will. It was not about the new lyrics tho, he just thought the song could sound much better than it was. Even so, the RCA and Colonel Parker, his manager, had to make choices without his consent once his main focus was in being a soldier, between 1958-1960. Elvis used to work "by demand", that means if there was a movie to be filmed, soundtrack recording sessions were made specifically for it, if there was a new Elvis album planned to be released, then recording sessions were scheduled specifically for the new album. They didn't use to work on recording sessions to "save" tracks to be future released. Very few songs used to surplus from each recording session and that only happened when some of the tracks originally planned to be featured in one specific release weren't considered good enough, concerning the quality of the material, or due to contractual deals that weren't still set by the time that specific LP (or EP) needed to be released. When Elvis was officially inducted in the US Army, in March 1958, there wasn't enough material for 2 years of future releases and this caused a lack in songs for the RCA and Colonel Parker to work with considering they needed a certain amount of new tracks to fill an album. For 1958 and 1959, there was a certain lack in new recording material to be out but they needed to keep Elvis' name in the spotlights since there was still a huge demand for him and they couldn't miss the chance to make money just because the US Army would keep their golden boy busy to work in his records for the next couple of years, besides Colonel had promised Elvis (and of course it was his interest as well) that when he came back from the Army he would still have a career to linger on. They chose to release "One Night "as a single, the way it was recorded in 1957, even if Elvis himself didn't agree with this. It was needed.

THE RELEASE (1958):

As you can notice, plans change. The same way "One Night" wasn't featured in the originally planned "Loving You" album in 1957, when the song was released as a single the opposite track wasn't "I Beg of You" as planned previously, instead they picked "I Got Stung" as the A-side.

1958–59: GOETHESTRASSE A new single had to be chosen, and both Sholes and the Colonel were still pulling for "One Night" over Elvis’s objections; the publishing company had made a deal for part of the royalties, but the deal depended upon the song’s release as a single and couldn’t be extended past October 31, 1958. The Colonel felt it would be foolish not to take advantage of the deal, and at last he persuaded Elvis to agree. With "I Got Stung" from the June session as the B-side, the new single caused an immediate sensation. DJs clearly preferred the A-side, but both cuts shot up the charts right away, eventually reaching number four and number eight, respectively. Split airplay may well have been what stopped "One Night" from going to number one on the charts, but the single sold several hundred thousand copies more than the last two releases, even matching "Don’t"/"I Beg Of You."

All the excerpts comes from the book "Elvis Presley: A Life in Music" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998).

Singles "One Night" and "I Got Stung". Released October 21, 1958. Recorded on February 23, 1957.

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AFTERWARDS:

As far as I know (and I say this because I am still studying Elvis' career and many things can come to my knowledge in the future), ever since released, Elvis performed the song as it was officially out, leaving "One Night (Of Sin)" to be heard only as a posthumous released track, after 1983 as it came out featuring the album "Elvis: A Legendary Performer (Vol 4)".

"One Night Of Sin" and "One Night" were featured together in the 2006 Follow That Dream (FTD) label re-issue of the "Loving You" soundtrack album. On the previous year (2005) FTD re-issue of the same album, there was only "One Night Of Sin" in the album, as it was supposed to be if the lyrics hadn't changed and the song had came out in the album it was meant to be in.

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LET'S DISCUSS IT:

First of all, I totally understand Colonel Parker's fears over the lyrics. "One Night (Of Sin)" would have been a risky song for Elvis in the 50s to perform/release and, the way I see it, the change in the lyrics came as a way of not giving munition to conservative people to "cancel" Elvis, to cause an even bigger fuss on his already pretty "stained" image as a "troublemaker", a "rock and roller rebel", an "imoral young man who's such a bad influence on the America's youth". Let's face it, have a conservative parent heard their kids listening to "One night of sin is what I'm paying for" there would have been "Loving You" LPs being burned in trashes all over the US, a lot more of badmouthing Elvis' name scenes with older folks using this song as an example of Presley's kind of "antics" and "imoral behavior", and maybe even the Loving You movie could have been forbidden if the song was performed in it, suffering boycott fired up by church leaders and all.

I wonder if that song was in fact in the movie tho. The Loving You movie is very, very "family friendly", all cute and sweet. I can't even imagine Deke Rivers singing "One Night Of Sin" onstage, since we know Elvis performed songs using not only his voice but his whole body. I mean, of course he performed "One Night (With You)" with the usual sex appeal inherent of him but the original lyrics would add much more sensuality into the performance, no doubt. I wish I could've watch him performing this son,g with its original lyrics, in the 50s... it would be something else, I tell ya. But it would also be quite scandalous for his image back then. Even so, I can't quite understand how that song was never performed by him the way he recorded at first, "One Night of Sin", during the '68 Comeback Special - or any other Elvis performance. He had no more reasons to try to play the "cool and nice southern religious boy" anymore by then, so why Elvis didn't sing this song the way it was originally recorded? I guess, concerning the '68 TV Special, this time it was a matter of being on television - you know... the sponsorship for the show would probably not agree with such "explicit" lyrics considering it was supposed to be a Christmas TV special, again, family oriented. Maybe he never performed the song with its original lyrics because nobody heard him sing it before since it was only released for the public after Elvis died. Such a shame.

As far as I know, Elvis never performed One Night Of Sin live but it would have been EXTREMELY suitable for his late 60s/70s stage persona. It wouldn't be a shock, you know? Like when he sings Steamroller Blues and a bunch of other tracks with lyrics under that sexy vibes. It feels like Elvis. Anyway, I personally would give almost anything to watch him singing this song in the 70s, really but I guess it is what it is. The timing wasn't that good when this track came to him — or it actually was because, if you think about it, now we have two versions of that song by Elvis. What could be better than one Elvis song than two (and hundreds more) of them?

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You can listen to "One Night (Of Sin)" by Elvis Presley on:

"Elvis: A Legendary Performer" Vol 4. (1983)

"The King of Rock’n’Roll – The Complete 50’s Masters" (1992)

"Loving You" (2005) – FTD (re-issue)

"Loving You" (2006) – FTD (re-issue)

"Elvis: From the Vaults: 50's" (2016)

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UPDATES - JUNE 6, 2024: This article has been corrected on the typos and general English grammar errors, plus the year Elvis was inducted into the Army, which I originally confused 1958 with the year he was discharged, 1960, and just now I realized that. I also added a few other personal comments.

I'm sorry a few of you "had to" share this article with its errors but THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING ANY WAY. I appreciate it when you engage with the content I share because, first and foremost, it means you liked it. It makes me feel like it's worth spending time here. I love you guys. Oh, by the way, if you see anything that could be improved in this or any other post on my blog, make me know it. I would like to leave accurate and easy-to-understand articles about Elvis for future fans to read. Of course they have all the Elvis library available but it's fun to read things straight from other Elvis fans too because we know exactly how El makes us feel. So let's keep building a safe community, saving easy-to-reach material about Elvis Presley for future generations together, shall we? ♥

[ghoulsister1]

🖤Being In A Relationship With Captain Kuro Headcanon: SFW🖤

Is a gentleman. Opens doors for you, pulls out your chair for you and seats you when dining in restaurants. Treats you like a proper lady.

He is very organised man. Expect him to remember important dates such as your birthday, anniversaries and date nights. He plans ahead and makes sure everything is perfect.

His love language inculdes giving you gifts. That necklace you were eyeing up? It's the first gift you receive from him on your birthday. Those gorgeous shoes you wanted but couldn't afford? Kuro has them custom ordered and sent straight to you for your two's anniversary.

Sweet endearing pet names. "Kitten", "Little Flower", "Sweetpea" and "Petal" are some of the pet names he calls you.

Takes out on picnics on top of a little hill, usually with a view of the sea so you both can admire the sight of the Bezan Black, sitting proudly in the waters of your private port. Packs a delicious picnic meal by the way. I'm talking a bottle of wine, a board with a variety of cheese to snack on, picnic cooked chicken, a plastic container with a mix of fruit such as blueberries, strawberries, grapes and apple slices.

"To us, my kitten" Kuro would toast and you'd both clink your champagne glasses together in cheers. "And to many more happy years together" You Would Add and you both would share a smile.

Fine dining at the best restaurants. A dinner for the two of you at the Baratie, candlelight and the best delicious food served to you. (Curtsy of Sanji, the best cook in the Baratie!)

At home, Kuro happily cooks for you. Sometimes you help him out and cook together. Kuro adores moments where you two cook together, you helping chop the veg while Kuro watches, making sure you don't accidentally hurt yourself with the knife and praises you for how well you chop up the veg and for your help.

Date nights including going out to dinner, a night at the theatre, watching a movie at the cinema. One time you guys just set up a spot outside and watched the stars together.

Quiet nights in inculde binge watching your favourite shows, movie nights or sometimes curling up together with books and read together, maybe have some podcast playing or some chill music in the background.

One night Kuro and you just spent an entire night just drinking some wine, indulging in deep conversations and eventually Kuro played some records and you two slow danced together in the middle of the drawing room, completely lost in each other's embrace and ending the night with a deep and passionate kiss.

Kuro will totally get jealous if another looks at you. He knows you ignore their advances and don't indulge in their games. However should one or two continue to harass, Kuro will dispose of them of course, in his own way. Nobody touches or takes what is his.

Same if anybody dares disrespect you. Kuro will defend your honour and isn't afraid to get his hands dirty....or his claws bloody.

"Nobody disrespects my kitten!" Are Kuro's word as he slashes at the offender, making sure people are watching so they know to never make the same mistake, should they end up on the other end of Kuro's claws.

To other pirates and Marines, Captain Kuro is a ruthless pirate captain that is feared by all who know him. But to you, you are his most precious treasure and he loves you very much. Kuro is a purrfect gentleman to his beloved sweetheart.

[aether-bun]

Hey, not sure if you’re doing the whole ‘Emoji Anons’ thing, but if ya are, I’d like to claim 🐉 Anon. Anyways, on with the request.

Could I get a platonic comfort for Pokémon Kieran with a reader who is like a really strong Pokémon Trainer and like his older sibling? Like, the reader is Champion level strong. Maybe the Champion of the Alola region? They recently heard from Carmine (since Kieran canonically doesn’t have a phone.) about what happened at Kitakami and how Kieran is extremely upset, so the reader goes to visit Kieran at Blueberry Academy to try and cheer him up. Because honestly, this kid needs a hug, badly.

You can ignore if ya want, but this is just a thought.

-🐉 Anon

The Boy Who Felt He Couldn't

Shadow (noun):

"A shaded or darker portion; an imperfect and faint representation."

❗: Reader is not referred to with any gendered terms, but is the eldest sibling of Carmine and Kieran. This fic is purely platonic and takes place after the Teal Mask DLC for Pokemon Scarlet/Violet.

[author's note at the end!]

Alola was a temperate, calm, and quite scenic region. It held diverse pokemon, beautiful agriculture, and best of all, it had one of the strongest champions in the world.

That was you. Quite modestly, you never really used that knowledge for your own gain, but on Alola you didn't need to. Mind, you lived there, so eventually over time the people grew to treat you normally again. This settlement meant you weren't forced to be a beacon - You could just be you.

Paldea did not offer this luxury.

Home to ancient ruins and terrifying legends, Paldea was a region of freedom, to an extent. It had every landscape a student could dream of, it had deserts adjacent to snowy hills with springs and forestry between. It was beautiful.

This beauty was very hard to see over the heads of the giant bustling crowd that had apparently come to see you. You didn't know how they knew you'd be there, but oh boy, apparently word got around.

You shook hands, signed pokeballs, and went over the usual speech of how great it was to see your supporters, before managing to shimmy your way out of the hustle and bustle of the aspiring trainers, reporters, and fans.

Unfortunately, you weren't there for any sightseeing or meetups, though you did make a mental note to at least book a tour of the region later. Right now, you were here for family.

Specifically, a little boy named Kieran. Your younger brother. According to your sister Carmine, he'd been incredibly upset, and if her story was true, you could honestly understand why.

It wasn't every day that the ancient pokemon that travelled with your bloodline for generations rejected you for some new star student. You figured you'd be pretty upset too, if you were him.

Kieran was unfortunately cursed with misfortune. Every time he tried to help himself to his goals, it always somehow managed to backfire. His Pokemon journey was not unlike the start of your own, but it was much worse than yours.

You knocked cautiously on his door. It was quiet. A small note on the door had the words 'KEEP OUT', but the writing had smudged, and there were blots of tears causing the ink to bleed. You could make it out, though. It hurt your heart.

"Kieran? C'mon, buddy, it's me.." You tried, cautious.

Immediately you heard rapid footsteps. The lock fidgeted wildly, until finally the door snapped open, revealing the disbelieving face of your brother. He looked at you for a long moment, eyes wide in disbelief.

"...[Y/N]?"

"Hey kid. I'm so sor–"

Kieran's arms were around you instantly, and he was squeezing you as tight as he could. You could hear his breaths stuttering, you could feel him trying not to stain your shirt with tears, so you simply readjusted, kneeling down and swallowing his shaking body in a warm embrace.

He sniffled into your shoulder, and you gently rubbed his back. "I'm sorry everything went so badly for you, Kieran." You said, soft, hoping to introduce the subject in a way that wouldn't antagonise him (something your sister was not very good at), and judging by the way he leaned into you further, you figured it was working.

-•-•-•-

Eventually, after many minutes of angry exclamations and scrambled words, Kieran calmed down. It was a process, getting him to breathe and recenter, but he always felt calmer with you, so the process wasn't too long. Not that you minded.

Kieran retold his story; His struggles with his own frustration, his exasperation towards Ogerpon's continuous dismissal, and he even admitted his own faults with his lashing out and sabotage attempts.

It felt easier to talk about these things with you. You never sighed and waved him off, never chalked any of his problems up to being a fault of his own. You listened. You spoke when he wanted you to, and you eased him into some advice that he tried to then take on for himself. This time was no different.

"Why did you feel the need to fight them, Kieran?" Your voice was still calm.

"I just...I tried everything to make Ogerpon feel welcomed! I catered to her needs, I did what ever I could to make her like me and nothing worked! I was so...so..."

"...Jealous?"

Kieran's silence meant he knew the answer was yes. You pursed your lips and sighed.

"Did you apologise?"

Again, he was silent. You were almost about to lecture him on the importance of admitting his faults, but then he managed to force out a small admission.

"I did." His tone was off, but you tried not to think too much of it.

You smiled sadly at him, bringing him close to lean on your shoulder. "I'm glad you said something, at least." You felt him tense a little, which unnerved you.

Then, in an effort to relax him, you noticed the way his hair looked.

"What's with this, huh? You never have your hair up..."

Kieran huffed. He didn't even appear to hear you through his own mental train of thought.

"I need to show that Trainer I can do more than just lose."

This made you stop and look at him. What?

"Kieran..."

"I need to show them I'm capable of winning. That I can be the star, too."

You frowned. This wasn't good.

"Kieran."

"You don't get it!" He snapped, shoulders tense as you fell quiet. "Ever since you started your journey, you've had good pokemon, good people! You're one of the strongest trainers in the world! No one treats you like a kid!

I need to show everyone that I'm able to be strong. Stronger than them. Stronger than anyone they've ever seen! Stronger than you!"

His voice cracked and broke. He looked so...angry. You couldn't let this go on.

"Kieran." You put a hand on his, and he seemed to come back to reality. He looked at you with wide, remorseful eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows, concerned.

"I-I'm...I'm sorry." Kieran mumbled, looking back down at his lap.

You knew where an attitude like that often lead people. It lead some of your friends down windy, dangerous roads. It created villains out of pure, innocent people. It created evil.

You very quickly decided you wouldn't let that happen to your baby brother.

Taking his hand again, you squeezed it. He looked up at you and met your worried eyes with poorly hidden fear.

"[Y/N]...?"

"Kieran...Your resolve is very important. Your will to do the right thing has always been one of my favourite parts about you. Your love for pokemon, your justice, it's all so important to me," You said. He looked away again, so you gently nudged him, and he very barely met your gaze again.

"I will not stand by and watch you tear yourself up. I don't want you going down a path you can't come back from."

"[Y/N]...I-"

"It's okay. I'm not going to make it a big deal. But...I am taking you to therapy." You chuckled, though you weren't joking. Kieran seemed to immediately deflate.

"It's not because you're messed up, or wrong, so don't you dare think that," You said, catching onto his thought process. "It's to help you regulate your emotions. I can be there with you, if you want me to, but I want you to try it out at least."

There was a long pause between you. You were still holding his hand, though your grip had eased enough for him to let go if he wanted to. He didn't.

After an eternity of silence, he slowly nodded. You mentally breathed a sigh of relief and smiled a little at him. "Thank you, Kieran." You said, watching him try to smile back a little. He was so tired. You stayed with him the rest of the afternoon, and at some point, he'd fallen asleep. The bags under his eyes suggested he hadn't slept enough recently, so you managed to get yourself comfortable and let him rest.

The process of undoing all of his emotional issues would take a very long time. It would be strenuous and taxing and he'd reach times where he felt it wasn't worth it.

But every Thursday, after he'd finished his sessions with a lovely therapist you happened to know in the region, you'd give him a signature bear hug, and you'd talk about whatever was on your minds.

Eventually, you did have to go back home to Alola, but when you left, you made sure he was in good hands. You made sure Carmine was aware of how to go about talking to him. You made sure he had people he could fall back on.

Even when you weren't there, you made sure he knew you were still around if he needed you. You gave him a Rotom Phone of his own, one that he positively beamed at from the patterns on the case, and made sure he knew to call you whenever he felt like it.

Every Thursday, he was reminded that you were there.

Every Monday, you called him and checked in.

And after a while, he realised something very elating: That with you and Carmine and his new friends he'd managed to make, it was going to be okay for him now.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Full disclosure, I never actually got around to playing the new DLCs, but as an older brother myself, watching a playthrough of it made me so sad for this little kid man :(

🐉Anon thank you SO MUCH for this request!!!! This is officially the first request I've done and I'd like to think I did a fairly good job on it! I'd like to think the endgame for this fic would be that we don't have to worry about the threat of Kieran entering a Syndrome arc sobs

Leave your requests in my inbox!! Thank you for reading, and ciao for now ♡

[mariacallous]

This summer, I traveled to Transylvania, on a Birthright-esque tour for young North Americans of Hungarian heritage. Almost everyone I told about the trip made some sort of Dracula joke. I rolled my eyes, knowing the region was much richer than this. But truth be told, I didn’t have too much yet to counter with. 

Here’s the history book version: Transylvania, now part of Romania, belonged to Hungary for more than a thousand years. It’s far larger than I had imagined – at around 100,000 square kilometers, the region is bigger than the whole of present-day Hungary itself, which ceded the region to Romania after WWI. There are currently around one million ethnic Hungarians who still live in Transylvania. The community speaks the language and passionately keeps their customs alive, from music to dance to crafts and, of course, food. 

And my version? It was easy to fall in love with Transylvania. From the moment I clambered off the small, tinny plane from Budapest at the small regional airport in Marosvásárhely, I was taken by its beauty. Rows and rows of golden sunflowers, framed by the verdant hills and rugged peaks of the Apuseni Mountains rolled by as we headed for our bed and breakfast. We spent a week learning about the Hungarian community in Romania, hiking, exploring cavernous salt mines and lakes, taking in medieval frescos and wandering cobblestoned streets.  

We also ate well — very well. 

Growing up, many of our cherished family recipes were very traditionally Hungarian (with a twist, to make them kosher), and the rich goulash, tender chicken paprikash and juicy stuffed cabbage we ate on the trip were familiar. Truth be told, aside from the dizzying assortment of wild blueberry and rosehip jams, I wasn’t really focused on dessert. 

That is, until I tried a pastry called somodi kalácsin a tiny village called Torockó. Lightly sweet and yeasted, with a cinnamon swirl, it’s as if cinnamon-raisin bread and babka had a baby. While every meal served by our grandmotherly hosts left us stuffed, I loved the folded bread so much that our guide got the inn to pack us a honey-glazed loaf to go. 

Transylvania was home to a sizable Hungarian-Jewish population. In 1910, according to The Museum of the Holocaust in Northern Transylvania, the Jewish population numbered above 64,000. By World War I, Hungary itself had the second largest Jewish population in Europe at almost one million. By this time YIVO’s Encyclopedia of Eastern European Jews notes Jews were “fervently assimilated” to the language and culture (and, rather sadly, looking back now), “passionately identified with Hungarian nationalism.” 

Upon my return home to Los Angeles, I made it my mission to find somodi kalács. I knew that Jewish immigrants to the U.S. and Israel popularized other classic pastries from Hungary, such as chimney cakes and monkey bread (aka aranygaluska), and was hopeful I’d succeed.

While I haven’t (yet) found somodi kalácsin my city, I discovered that it’s available at Zingerman’s Bakehouse, the iconic Jewish bakery in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

Like me, the Zingerman team tried somodi kalács for the first time in Torockó. The recipe, they found, dates back 400 years, when the village was a flourishing mining town, whose residents could afford the luxury of cinnamon and sugar. It’s typically served for Christmas, Easter and Pentecost, and until the 20th century, Zingerman’s notes, somodi kalács was the customary wedding cake. Theirs is a pretty traditional version. However, like my own great grandmother would do often, they sub the traditional lard for butter when greasing the pans, explained Managing Partner Amy Emberling.

At Zingerman’s, Emberling told me, it’s a beloved special item that they only bake a couple days each year. “Customers order many loaves of it and stock them in their freezer,” she said. And it’s not uncommon for customers to “let us know that they have not seen this since their childhood days in Hungary.” 

It’s also not uncommon to see patrons shed happy tears. I may have felt like shedding a couple happy tears myself when she shared their recipe.

[my-anime-garden]

Chapter 1: The Box

Warnings: none

Word count: 1093

Garden Note: Chill on me this is my first time writing a fanfic in a while please bare with me.

Chaapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10

Reader Pov

I was tired of college essays after essays professors just yapping about nothing at this point. I can’t wait to get home I’m sleepy. I think to myself I hear the bell ringing signaling that class is over and it’s time for us to go. I stand up and start packing everything into my book bag and head out stopping by a café to get a blueberry muffin. I leave the café after eating my muffin i brush off all the crumbs and start walking the direction to my apartment.

I see a group of college boys eyeing me in my outfit being an 19 yr old girl in Washington dc walking home by herself something is bound to happen. I decided it wasn’t safe to walk the normal route to get home me and one of the boys make eye contact so I change routes and take a short-cut to get home. I walk down the alley looking back to see if any of the boys followed me i look forward and see a random box in the middle of the alley.

I think nothing of it and walk around it i hear a confused mew and turn back around think there was a cat in between the house i walk back to see if I can find it. I hear another mew and get closer to the box thinking it’s coming from there one more mew comes from the box and confirms my suspicion i nudged it with my foot seeing if it would do it again from the various mews and meows coming from the box i suspect it’s 2 or 3 cats.

Being a sucker for cats I pick up the box almost falling from the unexpected weight of it. Thinking these are some fat cats I trek the way back to my apartment going up and down hills making sure i don’t drop the box and not falling i walk up step steps and by time i get to the top of the stairs. I set the box down heaving and panting from carrying the box i get my key fob from my purse and whisper to myself “fat ass cats” I open the door and use my legs to pick up the box and prepare my self to walk up steps with a heavy box thanking god that it was a thick one and not a weak one wrapped in tape.

I finally get to the second floor of the apartment building and almost drop the box at my door but gently put it down.

When I go through my purse and don’t feel the keys to my apartment i feel my back pocket and sigh of relief i attach my keys to my key fob so i don’t make the same mistake. I open the door and whisper to myself again “Home sweet home” i walk inside and set down my purse and keys on the coffee table.

I look around seeing how clean and spacious my apartment is. I glance towards the door with the box still on the ground i huff and walk towards the door taking my time and picking back up the box “i’m really starting to get tired of this shit” I whisper frustrated i set the box down on the same coffee table where my purse and keys are.

Hoping my table is strong enough to hold all the weight i’m adding to it. I walk back towards my door and lock it huffing as my legs feel like giving out. Walking from place to place has me fit and tired walking around Washington everyday just to save money is dedication if you ask me. I look towards the box and sit on my couch leaning back and breathing slowly trying not to fall asleep i run my hand over my face and pout this is way too much i think to myself.

Here we go i stand up leaving the box alone and go over to my bed room.

Deciding that i want to get out of my disgusting clothes i sniff my shirt and gag from how I smell like onions. I put my braids into a bun and put on my shower cap and take a quick 30 min shower thinking the cats might be sleeping from the trip from the alley to here is a long way a good 2 hours and 30 minutes away. I look at the time and see that it is 4:20 I turn on the light as I step into my room and take a deep breath smelling the perfume that I put on this morning.

I do a quick skin care routine for my body and face feeling relaxed and letting the stress from the day go away i start to feel tired.

But i walk out my room and down the hallway past the guest room and see the box had moved a little from where i placed it.

I ignore the box and go towards the kitchen i stop mid way and turn around as i think about the box wondering if it has breathing holes in it i rush towards the box and see that it does. I let out a sigh of relief and go back to the kitchen making myself a quick smoothie and cereal.

I go to the table and set everything down before I start eating i say grace and eat after i wash the dishes. i grab 2 bowls and set them on the ground for tomorrow i go towards the cabinet and reach for 2 tuna fish cans. Leave them out i fill one of the bowls with fresh water and smile thinking i’ll finally have other living things in my house but me.

It’s been feeling rather only in my apartment with just me and my fish here i gasp loudly thinking about my fish i rush to it and look into the tank sighing in relief “hi dory, i missed you today” i speak to the fish. And feed her food “sorry for forgetting about you girl we have some new guests that you’ll meet tomorrow”.

I grab a blanket before going to the couch i turn off every other light but the small light in the living room. I pull out the bottom of the couch to stretch my legs out and to sleep comfortably i say a small goodnight to the box and close my eyes waiting for tomorrow to come to open the box.

all rights reserved © my-anime-garden | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

Taglist: @niyahlovesu

[sunbleachcdflies]

about me ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

my name is jade, im 21 years old and go by she/her pronouns and im bisexual (/questioning?), white, leo sun aries rising scorpio moon, infp, eastern timezone ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

my media/famous interests are: jamie campbell bower, ethel cain, cillian murphy, chappell roan, taylor swift, olivia rodrigo, harry styles, one direction, the sturniolo triplets, kit connor, bts, ateez, noah kahan, djo, the last dinner party, boygenius, renee rapp, ayo edebiri, drew starkey, lola tung, sadie sink, madelyn cline, finn wittrock, muna

stranger things, derry girls, succession, heartstopper, outerbanks (obx), the vampire diaries, criminal minds, sex and the city, the bear, peaky blinders, gossip girl, greys anatomy, one tree hill, the sex lives of college girls, shameless, gilmore girls, new girl, a discovery of witches, one day, bridgerton, sweet magnolias, the summer i turned pretty

favorite book: normal people, sally rooney | cr: the way i used to be, amber smith

other interests: colors green and pink, blueberry flavored things, the ocean, reading, songs that make you feel like you’re in a movie, photography, coffee, musicals, decorating, fashion, snoopy, the lake, spending time with people i love, cleaning, spring and summer, coloring, chocolates, sour candy, making people laugh, dogs (especially mine), gift giving (+ so much more)

follow me if we have the same interests or anything pls i love connecting with new people! also feel free to message me or send anything into my inbox!

about this blog ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

18+ for mine and others safety and comfortability, here to reblog, rant, write, read, make connections and have a good time! i used to write on wattpad back in the day (i feel old) and want to get back into it.

starting off with small blurbs and headcanons and things like that! eventually want to start getting back into writing full fics!

who i’ll write for right now: jamie campbell bower (no characters), cillian murphy (+ tommy shelby, maybe), drew starkey (+ rafe cameron), & kit connor! i want to keep the list small for now <3 im very comfortable writing smut and would love to get requests in my inbox!

[scarfacemarston]

Omggggg can we get some sadie x reader action please? Thank you so much🙏🙏

Sure! Here is one of the few other examples I have of me writing Sadie, (Some are NSFW)if you're interested. I don't receive requests for her often, so I'm hoping I did okay.

You're aware that Jake will always be Sadie's number 1 love in her life, but as long as you can accept that, you're already on the road to a healthy relationship.

You approached her as a friend first. Not as someone to coddle or look at her with pity, and Sadie appreciated that immensely. Sometimes, the two of you would sit silently, listen to the birds sing, or enjoy watching the streams nearby. This is something that the two of you would openly seek later on in the relationship - sometimes with better or worse results. The bogs of Lemoyne were not exactly date-worthy, but you enjoyed the flower fields, the rolling hills, and the mountainside. Sadie was always on the lookout for new locations to show you. It was always a great way to leave camp and spend some alone time.

Sadie actually likes mystery novels and has a bad habit of trying to guess the ending the entire time, or worse, she'll sneak a peak at the end of the book and smile smugly as you were surprised by every twist in the book.

She would NEVER admit it, but she enjoys the occasional romance novel. She never considered herself a romantic person, and she never will. Still, she would be lying to herself if some books didn't remind her of her relationship with Jake…………or the occasional Sapphic "friend" novel reminding her of you. She may or may not borrowed an idea or two from the books to try out on you. Think Cassandra from Dragon Age.

She loves jerky of any type. She used to dry and cure the meat, testing out various mixtures with the different animals that were hunted. She'll buy as much as possible, but it still pales compared to the jerky she's made. She does not understand why people don't appreciate jerky more. It is certainly not a boring food. Modern Au Sadie has a hatred for Whole Foods, but especially finds their jerky selection pretentious.

She's not a particularly religious woman, but she has prayed before for your safety when she felt like there was nothing else that could be done. She hated the helplessness, and at least praying was something, even if it wasn't necessarily meaningful to her.

Favorite fruit is blueberries. She's always loved popping them in her mouth in between picking them from the bushes. Jake used to bake pies with them. She'd be overjoyed if you baked for the two of you………….but she can try if you ask nicely enough.

Loves her harmonica. She is constantly asked to play "Clementine". Usually, it's Jack that asks for it, but she'll play for you……..but prefers you pick a different song.

She will come up with any excuse for you to share her horse. "Your horse looks tired," "You look tired," "My horse is already tacked," "Bob is faster,." "Bob spooks less."

Has a weakness for hats. She is very economical, but if she sees a good hat, she won't hesitate to loot it and dust it off. She has at least four different hats…..so far. It makes it easy for you to pick out a gift for her.

[picturebookshelf]

Baby Beaver Is Born! (2005)

Story: Pat Harrison -- Art: Judith Panson

Canadian

[strang3lov3]

5 people I'd like to get to know better

Thank you for the tag @evolnoomym 🩷

Last song: Mayonnaise by the Smashing Pumpkins

Favorite color: Light blue

Last book: The Black Death: The Great Mortality of 1348-1350: A Brief History with Documents by John Aberth

Last movie: I got halfway through Alien and then the baby alien emerged from the dude’s chest. I got wigged out because of the blood and guts and the guy screaming in pain.

Last TV show: Gosh. I haven’t been watching much TV. Just a lot of Northernlion streams. I suppose Sopranos too, but at a slower pace because it’s making me anxious and I can only take so much.

Sweet/spicy/savory: Depends on my mood but never spicy. I have the heat tolerance of a marshmallow. At a Christmas party last year, we ordered a bunch of wings and ate them with the hot ones hot sauces. I faked a dab each time and wouldn’t even touch da bomb.

Relationship status: engaged for almost a year now, but in November I’ll be celebrating 5 years with my other half ❤️

Last thing I googled: the menu of the Spanish restaurant my fiancé is taking me to tomorrow evening. He’s gonna get the tapas platter, I’m gonna have paella, and we’re gonna share everything. The last time we went, the restaurant owner kissed my hand and I blushed.

Current obsession: Silent Hill. I wanna be fucked by both Pyramid Head and James.

Looking forward to: going to the movies this month to see A Real Pain, Gladiator II, and We Live In Time. Eating so much popcorn and drinking rootbeer and eating The Good Ice™ during those movies. Writing fics. Stepdaddy!Romey especially. Finishing my research paper and being done with this semester. Going to sleep in freshly cleaned bedding tonight, being held and having my back rubbed by my partner. The blueberry pie my grandma’s making for my birthday. For my bangs to grow out the rest of the way

Npt - @luiscarrutherss @greenduvet @ovaryacted @zloshy @covetyou @beefrobeefcal

[executethyself35]

thanks for the tag @meet-you-at-the-north-star and @panzershrike-pretz

List 5 things you talk about for an hour without any preparation

My ocs

Anything history related

Why Digimon is better than Pokémon, i will die on this hill try me

The meanings of religion and all that bs

any book i love

No pressure tags!! @1waveshortofashipwreck @dontirrigateme @turtle-toe @blueberry-ovaries @malarkgirlypop @ithinkabouttzu and anyone else!!

[hooked-on-elvis]

"I Need You So" (1957)

Recorded on February 23, 1957 at Radio Recorders, Hollywood · First released in July 1957 · Album: Loving You

RECORDING SESSION Studio Sessions for RCA February 23–24, 1957: Radio Recorders, Hollywood If Elvis had only remembered it, at home he was sitting on a demo for “Don’t Forbid Me,” which was destined to be Boone’s next smash—he might have beaten Boone to the punch at this session. Instead he went on to an Ivory Joe Hunter 1950 number one R&B hit, “I Need You So,” but for all Elvis’s admiration for Hunter, the song didn’t really work any better than “Paralyzed.”

Excerpt: "Elvis Presley, A Life in Music: The Complete Recording Sessions" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998)

RELEASES "I Need You So" was first released on the soundtrack album Loving You, out in July 1957. It's on the side-two as part of the list of five songs not featured in the movie. On September 1957 the song was again released, now on the third of the EPs with material previously released on the soundtrack album Loving You. In disguise, the title for this EP is Just For You but such as the EPs Loving You Vol. 1 and Loving You Vol. 2 it also contains material previously released on Elvis' first soundtrack album; the only exclusivity of the EP Just For You is the song "Is It So Strange" that would only be out on an album, for the first time, a couple of years later (compilation album A Date With Elvis, 1959).

Covers and respective back covers from the LP Loving You, and the EP Just For You.

FURTHER INFO

Chronologically, it was released the LP Loving You (July 1957), then the first EP Loving You Vol. 1 (August 1957), followed by the second EP Loving You Vol.2 (also August 1957), and then the last EP with material originally from the Loving You soundtrack album, the EP Just For You (September 1957).

Covers of the EPs Loving You Vol. 1 and Vol. 2, both released in Aug. 1957.

TRACKLISTS LP "Loving You" (July, 1957) SIDE ONE (songs performed by Elvis in the movie): Mean Woman Blues/Teddy Bear/Loving You/Got A Lot O’ Livin’ To Do/Lonesome Cowboy/Hot Dog/Party SIDE TWO: Blueberry Hill/True Love/Don’t Leave Me Now/Have I Told You Lately That I Love You/I Need You So EP "Loving You" Vol.1 (August, 1957) Loving You/Party/Teddy Bear/True Love EP "Loving You" Vol. 2 (August, 1957) Lonesome Cowboy/Hot Dog/Mean Woman Blues/Got A Lot O’ Livin’ To Do EP "Just For You" (September, 1957) I Need You So/Have I Told You Lately That I Love You/Blueberry Hill/Is It So Strange

ORIGINAL RECORDING Ivory Joe Hunter Release by MGM Records as Side-A single in April 1950, with its flip side being the song "Leave Her Alone". Hunter's original recording of "I Need You So" reached #1 on the Billboard R&B chart in 1950, staying there for two weeks.

LYRICS — “I Need You So” Songwriter: Ivory Joe Hunter I need you so to keep me happy If I can't have you I cannot go on I need your arms around me tightly Yes, I miss them nightly when you're not at home When the day is done I miss you so I lie and wait to hear you knock on the door When you leave me I try not to worry Come back in a hurry 'cause I need you so

Credits (pictures/info): elvis100percent.com; Discogs; Wikipedia, elvisthemusic.com; Book "Elvis Presley: A Life In Music" by Ernst Jorgensen (info).

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Real pleased with the progress in the yard so far, and fine-tuning the next steps as I go

Projects I noticed while working on the reseeding today:

Need to build and hang some bee boxes and then scrub down the deck with a citronella seal to hopefully convince the carpenter bees to relocate - also need to redo the deck frankly but that's a long-term thing and I'd really like to have access to a woodlot first and plane our own boards rather than buying them. Even in bulk from a lumbermill that's more money than I'd like to spend for proper hardwoods like oak and cherry

Need to buy a sythe/machete for the tall invasives by the creek - once the ground is cleared, going to turn our old olive oil tins into lizard houses, and reseed with strawberry corn, sunflowers, cardoons, witch hazel, and ground cherries

Need to call the city and find out who is legally allowed to bring down the willow across the creek that got uprooted during Helene and has been threatening to fall onto our fence ever since. Happy to do it myself if I'm allowed, but would rather the other land owner handle it, unfortunately it's not a person, it's a company so I have no idea how to talk to them about this except through the city.

Need to smash a pumpkin and throw some budding sweet potatoes into the compost and really hill up the hay on top so I can have a pumpkin and sweet potato patch for my leetle ladies tasty treat times

I need to sprout the red plum seeds and prep the temporary pots for when they're ready to transplant outdoors, might consider planting them directly in their own loosened hale bales, esp if I can let the chickens have at the bales over winter first.

Speaking of which, we need more hay. I need to call my hay guy and ask how much another 50 bales of clover hay will cost me

Need to bury the logs under hay and compost to start byilding raised beds and improving the topsoil quality, ideally I'll seed the swales with wetland/riparian plants so that as the swales smother the lingering invasives, the plants can sprout up on top with all that yummy organic matter

Need to buy/make root veggie sacks to bury in the compost and new topsoil so I can grow even while I'm still making new topsoil

I need to make sure to include wildflowerd in the spring compost and reseed, because we're starting to get some volunteering which means the soil is recovered enough to play good host and I want to speed that up

Gotta make some starter plots around the chicken run and the dog run to regularly re-establish groundcover in them given how much the chickens and dogs tear up the grass

Need to build a chicken tractor to use in future years to control overgrowth and compost growing beds after harvest

Need to build a water table for lettuces and greens, ideally linked up to the rainbarrel water storage system

Need to keep expanding the chicken run now they're all enjoying it so Elvira is less of an asshole, and reinforce under the coop so no one gets stuck under the foundation

Reinforcing the creek bank (witch hazel and red plum tree and creeping thyme) behind the dog run so we don't lose integrity of the fence.

Paint the house some goddamn colors holy FUCK

Keep making braids for cat and chicken toys

Maybe enclose the upper deck for a four season cat porch

Set up some 7-10 gallon pots on the deck for growing ginger and lemongrass and other culinary/medicinal plants we need to keep out of the topsoil

Make a plant ID booklet for use during harvesting

Make a recipe book to guide cut and come again use

Set out a shaded table at the top of the drive with places to set out eggs, produce, preserves, etc that we're not going to be able to use up for give away - should make sure to put a sign up to officially let folks know they can take what they like.

Start passionflower vines by the creek and back fence

Fill the front yard with flax

Plant a broomsedge, scouring rush, water cress, plaintain, American Trout Lily, alumroot, phlox, chickweed, creeping blueberries,culinary sumac, and primrose propogation bed by the creek to crowd out the last invasive ground covers (apparently the native ground covers have done a GREAT job smothering most of the invasives in the yard, and there are only a few invasive vines and crabgrass left actually. Everything else is native wetland grasses and galax. Just....so much galax lmao

I might look into canebrrak bamboo as well, that would be extremely useful for fiber production holy shit

I definitely want a stand of Indigo for dyes and inks

I still want my pawpaws and wild olive and wild black rum cherry trees so they'll probably go in the front where the crabapples are now. I could probably make a lil lumber out of the bigger crabapple and a nice cat toy out of the smaller one.

It would be great to get a Broom Hickory or a chinquapin, too, but I'm prioritizing the pecans

A sugar berry would be lovely, they're kind of nothing on their own, but if you use them in preserves of other fruits, they come out AMAZING

Coreopsis my beloved <3

I need to flesh out my medicinal garden too, and I'm thinking about waterleaf. It would be AMAZING for my skin condition, particularly for my feet, but I'm not sure I can harvest and use it fast enough given its growth habit the leaves and shoots are ostensibly edible, so maybe if we a consistent about cutting them back for the greens that will keep the rhizomes focused on growing rather than spreading.

Bayberry would be extremely useful for making plant waxes and butters, but I'm in the same position as the waterleaf, esp since they're even less readily edible lol

I think that's everything so far, which is good because it's already a year's worth of work lmao

[queenpiranhadon]

It's-a me with a new book series to hyper fixate on

So ehem I just finished the first book of the Inheritance Games (not adding it to my fandoms list until after I finish the series tho) and uh...

(spoilers below the cut)

BAHAHA XANDER WITH HIS SCONES I CAN'T- HE'S GONNA BECOME A POLITICIAN AND CREATE ENEMIES AND ALLIES SOLELY BY GIVING THEM BLUEBERRY OR LEMON SCONES HELP-

And the ending though?? Like I WANT Xander to go to Avery and work together because they both have crucial information but I also want him to get the recognition he deserves I will die on that hill.

Jameson seriously gives me Sirius Black + James Potter vibes (idk is that just me 😭). But like 👏🏾 do 👏🏾 not 👏🏾 treat 👏🏾 Avery like a piece in this big game, get over your dead ex and tell her you love her pls and thank you.

But like you know those videos about the best book boyfriends and their nicknames (idk maybe it's just me lmao) but like "Heiress" and "Mystery Girl" and "Cinderella" I'm squealing.

Grayson- okay there's a lot to him. I am in love with Avery's chemistry with Jameson but Grayson's chemistry with her is adorable too (in the first book at least). Like they start nerding out about statistics and probability like I want a man who will not only just judge me but join me as I overanalyze the implications of outfit, song, and set choices in movies or question the bounds of the universe and talk about the possibilities of the fourth dimension thank you very much.

But like, he has suffered a lot, even if nothing is really his fault, he takes it upon himself to blame himself because believes as the all-knowing Hawthorne he is responsible for everything. That being said, he could've been maybe less of an asshole in the beginning like man wdym by "you're injured and you will tell me why." like yes, that amount of dominance is attractive at certain moments but dude just leave the poor girl alone 😭

Nash I relate to on a spiritual level like oldest sibling, knows pretty much everything that his sibling are still trying to figure out, couldn't care less, doesn't care less, etc etc like join the club lmao. Obviously though, being in the Hawthorne family and having three extremely clever younger brothers all competitive in their own way, he's definitely felt undermined before and probably just stopped trying to be better. And I get that, even if I still try to be better than my own younger brother but he's just living his life, razzing up girls as one does lmao.

And his relationship with Libby...don't get me wrong, they're adorable together, like he's persistent in making sure she's secure and stable and his overprotectiveness is well...ehem he wants this things as they are lmaoo. But even so, I'm still a little wary about him because of his dating history but who knows maybe he'll prove me wrong.

Avery's so funny like first thing she thinks about when meeting any of the Hawthorne's (the grandsons I mean) is damn he's hot. And I mean after everything, I just love her, her reactions are on point, she's just trying to figure stuff out lmao.

I'm leaving my rant here uhm sorry for the essay heh