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duskyvenus · 9 months ago

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444: Written in the Stars

A PAC about the person who is the one for you 💖 Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Open your eyes and choose the photo that speaks to you. Six piles left to right. This is for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates.

Pile 1

Your person likes/has cats or cats can be significant in your relationship. This person really likes nature and animals. They like listening to music and may have a record player at home. Could also be an artist. A highly sensitive person. They see beauty in everything. They like taking photos to capture memories. May have brown hair or brown eyes. March and April might be important. This person is a bit melancholic and absentminded at times (?) It can be hard to notice at first but they have a lot on their mind. Nevertheless they know that they are more sensitive than most people and try to stay hopeful. You could feel resilience and healing energy oozing from them when you talk to them. They could also be a therapist or counselor or someone who studies psychology. They have the vibes of a very calm and nice teacher who minds their own business. They know how powerful words can be and they insist on maintaining peace. A very helpful person. "I know you can do it but let me do it for you" kind of person. Numbers and signs: 33, 3, 19, 14, Pisces, Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, Sagittarius, Cancer, Leo

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 2

Your person likes coffee or tea. They like celebrating their wins. I'm seeing cakes and lots of smiling faces. They are definitely very outgoing. They like forming meaningful relationships, not just mindless networking. They have creativity and a lot of ideas, so they could be a content creator or influencer. Sharp, spontaneous and open-minded. They're also financially secure; I'm seeing a job in finance. And they rely on people a lot more than they should? Maybe because they are looking for something that they can't find in a job. I'm seeing some co-dependency. They carry a lot of nostalgia and regret in their heart; someone who feels homesick for people. They may have studied anthropology and sociology. Couple outfits or couple activities is their thing. The type of person who gets hurt by people but still cannot imagine a whole life without a partner. June or October might be significant. They collect things like stamps or shells or dried flowers. Their house could look like a museum. YOLO could be their motto. Numbers and signs: 25, 1, 11, 13, Libra, Sagittarius, Aries, Leo, Taurus, Pisces

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 3

This pile has some young energy. Someone with a competitive spirit. They have this spoiled princess/prince persona for the people that don't know them very well. In reality, they are someone who works very hard to achieve success and they could be very smug about their accomplishments which might put some people off. I'm sensing that they believe in manifestation and law of attraction. They're also a bit defensive and guarded so it's hard to get to know them. I think they are someone who just wants to have control over their own life. They might have grown up in a situation where they didn't have much control over decisions concerning them so now, they are just trying to get their power back. They learned to stand up for themselves so now the people that could no longer control them are not happy about it. They made peace with it though. They're focusing on making their pinterest board dream life come true. One of their biggest dreams is to live in a beautiful house. January and August could be important. Numbers and signs: 16, 8, 5, 4, Scorpio, Virgo, Pisces, Capricorn, Aquarius, Aries, Sagittarius

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 4

Your person is everywhere but also nowhere. They remind me of shows like my liberation notes, they feel like a warm cup of tea that comforts you at the end of a stressful day. They are the “always the artist but never the muse" trope. Similar to pile 1, they are soft spoken and kind. They fit in but they don't feel seen. They like journaling their thoughts because they feel so much. "I don't know where to put it down" Despite this, they have a small group of friends that feel like soulmates or soul family to them. Getting closer to them can be hard because they just enjoy their own solitude that they don't feel the need to be with someone all the time. Very independent. When you get to know them though, you will find that they are very accepting and funny even. A true friend and a loyal partner. They will love to share their interests and hobbies with you. They desire someone who gets them on a spiritual level and they will always be there for you. They really value loyalty and a no bs attitude. For some of you, they could be from a different culture/country. They can probably speak many languages. The type to learn your native language so that communication is never a barrier. Numbers and signs: 32, 13, 14, 5, Virgo, Gemini, Pisces, Leo, Libra, Capricorn, Scorpio, Aquarius

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 5

This person has an elusive persona. The cold and rich male lead character of a manhwa/drama. They prefer night over day; might be a night owl. They are secretly a hopeless romantic. They need someone who is like sunshine. Initially they give off this dark, serious and mature vibe but underneath they have a very soft core. They are a very caring and nurturing person but that energy has been stifled because of their environment. The reason why they act so serious is because they don’t want people to take advantage of them. To them, you are like a warm ray of sunshine that makes them feel alive again. They hate authority. They hate having all these responsibilities that tie them down and keep them busy. They are deserving of their position because of their hard work and leadership qualities, but sometimes they just want to run away from it. They feel that they have a different purpose. However, they could be hesitant to move on from their comfort zone. Out of all the piles, this pile is the most eager to meet you. They said, “you have so much light, the plants grow towards you”. Numbers and signs: 25, 8, 14, 3, Capricorn, Virgo, Leo, Cancer, Taurus, Aries, Libra

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 6

This pile has a very endearing energy. Someone who goes through all of it and yet chooses to be kind. “Memories are all I have” A very poetic or sentimental kind of person who struggles in making decisions. Also, they like humor based on their own pain. They like visiting places that are off the grid and collecting random things. They often dress up to go nowhere. They tend to do a lot of silly things that wouldn’t make sense to the average person because they are silly, duh. Quite the hopeless romantic too. Apart from all the silliness, they are avoidant of the reality because they often dissociate and have tendency to spiral into inner turmoil. They may struggle to understand their own feelings. All this is hidden under the persona of being the happy go lucky friend. In the end, they just want to bond over the little things and enjoy the mundane tasks of everyday life with someone. They may work in a field related to children or history. May, September could be significant. Numbers and signs: 26, 6, 2, 18, Cancer, Scorpio, Gemini, Pisces, Virgo, Libra, Aries

Thank you for reading!!

#pick a card #tarot reading #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #tarotblr #intuitive readings #spirituality #psychic readings #psychic #divination #intuitive #love reading #future spouse #love readings #future lover #divider by saradika #duskyvenus

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trashogram · 8 months ago

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He Chose You (Pt. 9)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated Explicit.

Warning: Character Death, and minor details of childbirth.

“You’re glowing!”

You’d scoffed while watching as your body literally began to illuminate from the inside out.

“Well of course.” You’d snickered, looking from your hands to Lucifer. “Every mother does.”

Your hand came up to clasp your mouth shut, but the Freudian slip was already out there. Lucifer stared at you and you stared back.

Your lips wobbled and torso trembled until you could no longer hold it in and burst into laughter. Elation ran its course, and Lucifer joined you — laughing so hard that he slapped his knee.

When you fell into his arms and let yourself be held, you imagined it would only be for a little while. This bizarro pregnancy had you on some kind of high, and all the worries and doubts that had been building up disappeared.

—

You can’t remember for how long you’ve been walking but there’s discomfort in the soles of your feet. The landscape changes as soon as you truly behold it.

The endless field of tall grass and the trees so tall they could touch the sky had been replaced by golden sand. You could feel its gentle heat on the ends of your toes. Beyond the sand is a gently rolling ocean, lilac beneath a honey gold sky as the sun has only just set. The sound of rhythmic, rushing water is so real and so close that you’re immediately calm.

Memories flood your mind like a sneaker wave. You’re a child again, running away from the water as it laps at you. The shock of the cold water goes away quickly and you want to follow the pebbles and seashells that drift back out with the retreating tide.

You look back, away from the sea, and see the blonde woman behind you. You grin.

She’s wistful.

It stamps down on your joy. The air is salty and wet blowing through your hair and inhaled through your nostrils. You want to speak, but you can’t think of a thing to say.

“I wish this was goodbye.” Her voice carries above the waves, muffling them until they’re nothing but a dull roar.

—

You awoke to the sensation of falling and seized in your bed. Lucifer startled beside you. He’d been sleeping wrapped around your belly; a compromise to laying perpendicular to you so that he could continue talking to the soccer-player in your stomach.

He or she had not stopped moving since they decided to make it known that they were, in fact, not dead.

(You’d chided the baby for that, and for doubling in size in less than two week’s time, much to Lou’s amazement:

“Hell isn’t ready to be ruled by two speed demons.” You’d deadpanned.)

“Huh?” He grabbed you without thought. “What—”

Movement erupted from deep down in your core, muscles clenching and unclenching quickly, forcing you to seize again.

“I think I’m — ugh!” You gritted your teeth. “—I’m going into labor.”

Lucifer doesn’t do anything for a long moment.

Then he flew into a panic before you could say ‘Jesus Christ!’.

—

The hallway outside illuminated with the sheer brilliance of your body, literally glowing. It hadn’t stopped since it started, only a few weeks ago. Fortunately, the glow was tied to an almost paralyzing euphoria. It was the kind of delight that turned your blood into gold while racing through your body. The kind that kept you from complaining that you’d become Tinkerbell.

“Steady. I’ve got you!” Lucifer assured whilst trudging over the carpet with you in his arms.

An influx of pain rippled through you for the first time, providing distraction from the mortification you might’ve felt in that position. It hasn’t escaped your notice that the Prince of Darkness was a shortstack. Your brain had a hard time accepting that for as small as he appeared, Lucifer was capable of unimaginable feats of strength and endurance.

So, you didn’t think about it. Instead you focused on breathing in and out deeply as your partner kicked at the front door of your neighbors’ apartment with the toe of his boot.

As if waiting at the door, Warren Farrow appeared from behind the polished wood. His expression was of minute surprise, but within seconds he was turning back and calling for his wife.

Lucifer managed to pivot the two of you into the Farrow home. Warren guided you with an unusual vigor in his step, as though he were a man decades younger.

“We’ve had it set up for weeks now, Sir.” Warren said gravely.

Through the convulsions, you observed the inlet that Lucifer had taken you into. It was like a roomy closet, covered in tapestries and littered with candles of all shapes and colors.

Warren’s wife was flitting about, quickly lighting the pitch-black surroundings until you could see the mere outline of things.

You were drawn to the center of the crowded room, where a humble white cot covered in white towels contrasted everything else.

It occurred to you then that this entire pregnancy had been a shit show, not the least bit because you’d never gone to any OB. You hadn’t checked in with any hospital, or stepped foot in one — how could you?

Therefore, any and all “check-ups” you’d had had come from your creepy neighbors with their tea and their scrutinizing questions and their buzzard-like stares.

You’d consoled yourself throughout with the brief, semi-serious talk with Mrs. Farrow three months into gestation.

“What? Were you a midwife or something?” You asked incredulously.

“Yes, honey.” Cass had patted your hand like you were a simpleton. “I helped deliver babies for over 15 years. I was younger than you were when I first started!”

You had stared. ‘Oh god, how many crazy cultists are actually nurses in disguise?’

“Here we go, all set. You can lay her down here.” Cassie came over brusquely, smoothing over the wrinkles in the cot before Lucifer put you down.

He laid you on the sheets, light as a feather, jarring as you felt your belly weigh you down. The King didn’t go far, reluctant to let go of your hand. You held on like a vice as well, gripping and squeezing with each contraction.

You felt pinches in and around your abdomen, but the pain was… off. It came not from true agony, but the overworking of your internal organs in contrast to the pleasantness that you embodied post-glow stick phase.

Hearing childbirth horror stories all your life, and just the horrors of raising children in general, you expected to be screaming and thrashing.

This wasn’t as bad as some of your past periods had been. What’s worse than that, however, is the unnecessary guilt you feel for how troublesome it isn’t.

—

Lucifer struggled to remain in one spot as the urge to pace up and down the cramped little birthing room ate at him.

He didn’t want to leave you — not that his two hosts would dare make him, regardless of tradition — but old habits die hard. He was fidgeting, putting all his weight on one foot then the other.

You were his exact opposite, laying placid and relaxed on the birthing bed, eyeing the little room. Microexpressions flitted across your face, some of confusion and some of hurt, but aside from your firm grasp on his hand, and the occasional grunt, you may as well have been dozing off.

Eventually you glanced at him.

“Do you wanna sit down?” You asked calmly.

Lucifer tried to laugh but it came out like a strangled wheeze. “Nahhh, this is fine. I’m fine. Are you fine? I mean I know you’re not fine, but can I do something? Whatever you need, I can get it for you!”

His rambling ends with you bopping him between the eyes teasingly. “You’re silly.”

It’s inexplicable, but Lucifer’s mood lightened at your mellow admonishment. He meets your warm, drowsy expression with an adoring smile of his own.

“I am.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re an angel to put up with it.”

A too-loud rasp interrupted the soft moment of nothing but affection and kisses. Cass was standing at the foot of your cot, hands on each of your knees as she kept your legs apart.

“Get ready, honey. You’re on your way.” She hailed.

–

A cry split through the air and it went straight to your heart.

You gulp down air (Lucifer mimicking you without meaning to) with sweat pouring from your hairline. The lack of pain hadn’t meant a lack of effort, and you still felt like you’d run a marathon just to pass the little being currently wailing in Mrs. Farrow’s arms.

“It’s a girl.” Mrs. Farrow declared.

There was no attempt to hide the sidelong glance she gave Mr. Farrow. The lines and grooves on the elderly man’s face deepened until he resembled a gnarled tree trunk.

“Hmm.” Was his reply, deep baritone rolling like thunder in the tiny room.

Vehement indignance blazed to life inside your mind when the old man looked at you, critical and disappointed. You felt like tearing him and the rest of this old, tacky room to shreds. Yet, exhaustion had planted its roots deep inside of you, and all you could do was glare at the old couple from your makeshift bed.

‘Why does it fucking matter?’

“Gimme my kid.” You growled.

As if to piss you off further, Cass ignored you in favor of wiping the baby clean before passing her off to Lucifer. The old bat presented her to the King like she was a fallen bannerman’s sword, even curtsying while doing it.

It was so weird that it brought you out of your anger for a second.

Lucifer was clearly apprehensive, and his insecurity made the grand gesture stranger. He swallowed visibly, making eye contact with you when he couldn’t break away from the internal turmoil he was struggling with.

“Bring her to me.” You demanded. Lucifer nodded vigorously, cocking a head toward you.

It was fucking nonsensical, but at last Cass obeyed and brought you a bundle wrapped in silky black.

The baby’s wailing tapered off as soon as she’d made contact with you. And like a child on Christmas morning, you shifted to sit up as much as you could and pry open the swaddling cloth.

You sniffled.

All at once, the breath caught in your throat and your eyes welled up with tears.

The newborn was as flagrant as her father in terms of skin tone and hair. She hadn’t yet opened her eyes but already you could see none other than a spitting image of Lucifer himself. Right down to the rosy apple cheeks that made up her pudgy little face.

You were a little surprised to see that she had a nose. A little black smudge, puppy-like - anomalous like the little growths on her forehead and the itty bitty spade on the tip of her wagging tail.

She was perfect.

“I think she’s a Charlotte.” You manage to tear your eyes away from the miraculous hellspawn in your arms just long enough to search Lucifer’s golden gaze. “What do you think?”

His Majesty is a whimpering mess beside you. “Y-yeah. That’s perfect.”

Peeling the blanket back just that much more, you lean toward him. It takes a little coaxing, but sure enough Lucifer traces a delicate claw over the child’s tiny brow.

“Hello Charlotte.” He whispered. “We’re so happy you’re here.”

Adoration overwhelmed you, nigh on visible like the air was tinged with its color, its scent, its warmth cocooning the three of you.

Daddy, Mommy and baby. A strange but happy little family.

Lou embraced the two of you, hiding his face, and subsequent weeping, in the side of your neck while your baby cooed.

The background chants of ‘Hail Princess Charlotte’ and ‘Hail King Lucifer’ were, thankfully, not enough to ruin the moment.

Nothing could. Until.

It doesn’t dawn on you that anything is wrong when the glow has faded. It’s only the incidental look at your fingers, with Charlotte’s tail curled around them, that freezes you. Numbness then began to crawl up your body, as if waiting for the moment that you’re brain would connect the dots. The copper scent of blood made your nostrils flare and heart hammer.

Fear clutched at you in an instant. “Take her. Take the baby.”

Your desperate hiss and barely-there shuffle to push Charlotte into Lucifer’s arms fully had his face falling.

“W-wai-wh-What’s happening?” He asked, panic rising.

Mrs. Farrow is prompt, crone’s face scrunched and nose prominent as if she could sniff out the issue. She’s stood at the end of the bed, already lifting the sheets off your body before you can seek her out.

A stiff hand appears over the covers, covered in shiny dark claret. “She’s bleedin’ too much.”

Lucifer’s eyes blazed from where he hovered. “Why?”

The elderly woman was ready to shrug, but she stalled. Perhaps out of fear. “It happens, your Grace. Birthing a baby takes a toll on the mother, sometimes it’s too much.”

“Then why are you just standing there?”Lucifer bared his fangs, ivory in the lowlight. His eyes were a haze of vermillion, so opaque that you couldn’t find his pupils or the soul inside. “Help her!”

The truly demonic scrape of his vocal chords frightened you, as did the sudden appearance of tusk-like horns protruding from his skull and the fire coming to life between them. His beautiful skin marred and stretched and cracked as if his form were a prison barely containing the true beast within.

Energy crackled in the air, heat rising to blow back your hair and dry the air from your lungs like a flung-open kiln. The breath was stolen from your lungs as ivory wings shot out and overtook what little space was left in the alcove.

Reality was literally distorting around Lucifer’s warped rage.

Mr. Farrow, for all his reticence, reached for his wife’s shoulder from within your line of sight.

“Lucifer.” You hissed, bearing the brunt of his inhuman stare when he turned to you. It took real energy to speak. “I need you… the baby…”

It didn’t take anymore prodding for the blond to intercept your daughter once your desperation got through to him. The Devil slowly shifted back, revealing the depth of his fear in the cloudless turn of his gaze. He met you halfway - finally - and pulled Charlotte close to his chest.

A pang of thankfulness made laughter bubble up from your diaphragm. It hurt. Everything hurt again.

“Stop. Wait.” Lucifer begged, voice turned to ice. Fragile, cracking. His natural white glow had dimmed significantly like a cooling star. “This isn’t— I promised you this wouldn’t happen! This can’t happen!”

A shudder ran through you.

“Hey.” You lifted a hand and placed it on his pale cheek, thumb brushing over where white met red. “Nothing… for it now.”

“No, don’t, that’s… No.” His agony was so palpable, as his fury had been.

“You’re gonna be a great dad.” You murmured.

Lucifer bowed over the side of the bed with Charlotte snug against him. You could feel the warmth of his breath, and then the splash of his tears against your cheek as he broke down. You felt it deep in your bones, and the lump in your throat that choked you.

“Not without you.” He said. “I can’t do this without you.”

A pained smile was your response. Vision a-blur. Cotton tongue.

“You… will.”

Lucifer shook his head fiercely. “I promised you. I swore I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I can’t… I can’t...”

“Please. Please don’t — ” Anguish turned Lucifer’s once melodic voice into broken notes. “Don’t leave us. Please, please, please.”

His sobs intermingled with Charlotte’s whimpering. She fussed as she was woken from her doze by the growing, tangible urgency. You wished you could calm both of them. Take them in your arms and make it all go away, promise that you weren’t going anywhere.

“Please. Please. Please.” The word fell from the Devil’s mouth like a prayer.

You wondered if he really was praying. Praying to his Father.

It broke your heart.

The candlelight around you was getting brighter as the rest of your surroundings grew dark. Lucifer, as brilliant as he was, lingered somewhere in between. You squinted when his features began to fuse together in your mind. It did little to help, as large, dark shadows blotted out the corners of your sight.

Charlotte was bawling and you fought to open your eyes again. You hadn’t realized they’d closed.

You were so tired. The will to rise up and comfort your baby was dwindling. Everything had succumbed to a thin stream of light in a sea of darkness.

With a breath, and another Herculean effort, you opened your eyes again.

White blinded you.

And then you were nothing.

***

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin

#lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer

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lowkeychenle · 9 months ago

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Follow Me Not [ZCL] Masterlist

Description: After Chenle "accidentally" hits the follow button on Twitter, you try to get him to unfollow you by any means necessary, even if he's keen on staying right where he's at.

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (featuring NCT Mark, NCT Jaemin, aespa Ningning, & aespa Karina)

Genre: SOCIAL MEDIA AU! :D suggestive, crack, funny haha stuff idk

This series includes explicit & suggestive content & is not suitable for audiences under 18. If you are a minor, please do not interact.

Content Warnings: suggestive content, man-hating jokes, kys jokes, etc etc will add more when I think of them

Notes: I hit 500 followers!! Thank you everyone <3 this is a little experiment I've been wanting to try for a while, and what's better timing than this??? lol please ignore time stamps i'm too lazy to fix all of them

taglist: open! message me or comment to be added🥰

Contents

profiles: ✨sm’s dumb shits + chenle✨ profiles: the gorlz🤪🩷

chapter 1: plz think of the ratios 2024.1.29 chapter 2: y/n declares war 2024.1.31 chapter 3: russian roulette nct version ☹️ 2024.2.2 chapter 4: detective y/n on the case 🤓👆🏻 2024.2.4 chapter 5: he SNUCK???? 2024.2.5 chapter 6: all the way formal 😉 2024.2.6 chapter 7: i've been bamboozled😭😭😭 2024.2.7 chapter 8: 🥰🤭🥺🫠 always always always 2024.2.8 chapter 9: time lapse 2024.2.9 chapter 10: operation y/nle 2024.2.10 chapter 11: here's the deal 2024.2.11 chapter 12: come here and act normal 2024.2.12 chapter 13: ?????? REPENT SINNER 2024.2.13 bonus: chapter 13.5: maroon (m) 2024.2.13 chapter 14: like the old days🤪🤩 2024.2.14 chapter 15: tired of you two 🙄 2024.2.15 chapter 16: sleepovers every night 🥳🥳 2024.2.16 chapter 17: #ynleisback ❤️ 2024.2.17 chapter 18: 😍that mess is all mine😍 2024.2.18 chapter 19: 🤠 -> 🧢 2024.2.19 epilogue: 结尾 ❤️ (the end❤️) 2024.2.20

+ sneak peek at the timeline...

#nct dream #chenle #nct dream smau #chenle smau #chenle x reader #chenle angst #chenle fluff #chenle smut #nct angst #nct fluff #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #social media au

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blocksruinedme · 8 months ago

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Joel gives Etho, Scar and Tango a base tour. Scar thinks Joel and Etho need to "get a room".

At the end, Scar says Joel and Etho "need to get a room", after 14 minutes of, uh, "teasing"? I'm just presenting the evidence, you're your own judge of this... behavior.

youtube

I'm not responsible for anyone's screaming from this. Also not sure if I'll make this one public. Feel free to leave fun time stamps in replies and I'll edit the post/video!

It's a fun and friendly video, lots of compliments for Joel, really nice to see him having non-violent interactions with his fellow hermits, because Joel is a hermit. Still makes me happy every day!

Timestamps below! Video has chapters

0:27 - They find big beans

5:18 - Etho compliments Joel's wall

6:58 - Etho thinks he and Tango need to have a word in private with Joel

8:36 - The mountain has no groupchat

9:43 - "You like that?"

11:06 - Etho compliments Joel's armor stand aquarium

11:26 - "This Joel guy's pretty good."

13:56 - Final SmallEtho... interaction... begins

14:07 - Scar says Joel and Etho need to get a room

#smallishbeans #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #traffic shipping #trafficshipping #ethoslab #smalletho #boat boys #joel smallishbeans #hermitshipblr #is it shipping if it's unedited clips #tangotek #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft clips

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allwaswell16 · 11 months ago

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❤️ Heart Beat ❤️

An Advent Fic by @allwaswell16

Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums. 🎄 35k ~ Now Complete! 🎄

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

Now with a bonus chapter... ❤️ 26 ❤️ A Valentine's Day time stamp

{ Incredible moodboard by @nouies }

#advent fic #heart beat #allwaswell16 #thelarriefics #hlficlibrary #1dficvillage #hlcreators #hljournal #1dcreatorsclubhouse #hlsource #trackinghappily #trackinghome #1dsource #ficsfor4am

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petermorwood · 5 days ago

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I was looking for a good movie still to illustrate this post and found one here - along with the unexpected improbability of a recipe for Lifebuoy-Soap-Style fudge...

Oh-kaayyy.

The original recipe is at the link, while the one below includes conversion to metric.

NB that the US measurements are correct and metric is approximate - also rounded up to the next convenient whole number, though I doubt this matters much.

Besides the ingredients, you'll need to source soap moulds and some kind of letter stamp, also - if like me - a sharp knife for trimming the finished blocks of "soap" into their proper in-period shape. Faking the elaborate cartouche in the middle is IMO going OTT, but YMMV.

*****

Prep Time 30 mins Cook Time 2 mins Chill for 2 hrs Total Time 32 mins

Ingredients

2 ⅔ cups white chocolate chips 16 ounces / 455 gr (SEE NOTES!)

1 can sweetened condensed milk 14 ounces / 400 gr.

pinch salt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

red food coloring

Instructions

In a large, microwave-safe bowl, combine the chocolate and sweetened condensed milk. Microwave at 70 percent power for 90 seconds. Stir well, using the residual heat to full melt the chocolate until the mixture is very smooth.

Alternatively, you can set the bowl over a saucepan of simmering water (making sure the bottom of the bowl doesn’t touch the water) on the stove-top.

Add the salt, vanilla extract, and food coloring. Stir well and add food coloring until desired shade is achieved

Pour into food-safe silicone soap molds. (You should have 6 to 8 bars.) Place the molds on a baking tray and chill for 2 hours.

Overturn the fudge bars onto a baking tray lined with wax or parchment paper. Use stone stamps to write "Lifebuoy" or "Oh Fudge" on the bars. Return to the refrigerator to chill until serving.

Calories based on a half-bar of fudge.

Recipe Notes

Please note, the recipe here uses Nestle-brand white “morsels,” which is actually confectionery coating. If you’re using white confectionery coating chips (no cocoa butter listed in the ingredients), use 16 ounces / 455 gr. If using pure white chocolate (with cocoa butter listed in the ingredients), use 19 ounces / 540 gr.

#food and drink #food in fiction #food in films #A Christmas Story #fudge #sweets #candies

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lockburn-castle · 2 years ago

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⋆ ✩‧₊˚ ꜱᴠᴛ ʀᴇᴄꜱ ˚₊‧✩༘⋆

LEGEND:

⇒ 『✓』 - 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔡 (𝔞𝔩𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔞 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰) ⇒ 『📱』 - 𝔰𝔪𝔞𝔲, 𝔰𝔬𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔪𝔢𝔡𝔦𝔞 𝔞𝔲 ⇒ 『 ☁ 』 - 𝔣𝔩𝔲𝔣𝔣 ⇒ 『 🗣 』 - 𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔡𝔶, 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔬𝔲𝔯 ⇒ 『 ⚠︎ 』 - 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔱 ⇒ 『 ❣︎ 』 - 𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰 ⇒ 『 18+ 』 - 𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱 ⇒ 『 ➳ 』 - 𝔬𝔫𝔢-𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰 / 𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔰 ⇒ 『 🕰 』 - 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔪𝔭𝔰 ⇒ 『 ⚛ 』 - 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰

𖠋 do remember to read the warnings before continuing to read the fanfics!!

🍒 choi seungcheol 🍒

' THE WAY BACK ' - by @suhnshinehaos {✓, 📱, ☁, ⚠︎, 🗣} Remind Me - by @milfgyuu {☁, 🗣} yours, but not yours - by @yuzukult {☁, ⚠︎, 🗣, 18+} get you - by @yoongiseesawmp3 {☁, 🗣} GAME DAY - by @escapewriter {✓, 📱, ☁, ⚠︎, 🗣} His Hoodie - by @drunk-on-dk {☁, 🗣, 18+}

one-shots/time stamps

arcade - by @sweetiesicheng {➳, ☁, 🗣}

👼🏻 yoon jeonghan 👼🏻

DESKMATES TO LOVERS? - by @http-mianhae { ❣︎ , ☁, ⚠︎, 🗣} my guardian demon sucks at his job (not clickbait) - by @shuaflix {☁, ⚠︎, 🗣, 18+}

one-shots/time stamps

such a flirt ! - by @amateurasterism {➳, ☁} Girls Talk Boys - by @drunk-on-dk {☁, 18+} to you - by @shuahoonie {➳, ☁, 🗣} [ 12:02am ] - by @slytherinshua {��, ☁} worst neighbor ever (or is he?) ! - by @amateurasterism {➳, ☁} waterproof - by @husbandhannie {➳, ☁, ⚠︎} [11:23 pm] - by @jjuniehao {➳, ☁}

🦌 hong joshua 🦌 one-shots/time stamps

my home - by @shuahoonie {➳, ☁, 🗣} about you - by @shuahoonie {➳, ☁, 🗣} Smitten - by @slytherinshua {➳, ☁}

🐱 wen junhui 🐱 one-shots/time stamps

[ 9:43pm ] - by @slytherinshua {🕰, ☁}

🐯 kwon soonyoung 🐯 one-shots/time stamps

Photoshoot - by @slytherinshua {➳, ☁} my things and yours - by @husbandhannie {➳, ☁} [8:06 AM] - by @thru-the-grapevine {🕰, ☁} just a moment with you - by @husbandhoshi {➳, ☁, 🗣} [02:09 pm] - by @jjuniehao {➳, ☁}

🦊 jeon wonwoo 🦊 one-shots/time stamps

『 tomorrow 』 - by @genezpen {➳, ☁} chocolate rum cookies - by @wonwoonlight {➳, ☁} the regular - by @trblsvt {➳, ☁}

🍚 lee jihoon 🍚 one-shots/time stamps

[02:14] - by @kwanisms {➳, ☁} bags - by @cheolsblackgf {➳, ☁} Half-Baked - by @thru-the-grapevine {➳, ☁}

⚔️ lee seokmin ⚔️

Missing Pieces - by @escapewriter {✓, 📱, ☁, ⚠︎, 🗣}

one-shots/time stamps

and tomorrow we’ll begin anew - by @noramoons {➳, ☁} [20:40] - by @gyu-effect {🕰, ☁}

🐶 kim mingyu 🐶 one-shots/time stamps

restless without you - by @duhnova {➳, ☁} ♡ KICK YOU OR KISS YOU - by @alohajun {➳, ☁}

🐸 xu minghao 🐸

now or never - by @heartkyeom {✓, ☁, 🗣, ⚠︎ } ❝ academic infatuation ❞ - by @berriesandjunnie {☁}

one-shots/time stamps

Hot pot, flowers and fireworks - by @hongnanglen-arina {➳, ☁}

🍊 boo seungkwan 🍊

one-shots/time stamps

Mission Possible - by @thepixelelf {➳, ☁} 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 - by @sungbeam {➳, ☁} ☆ OUR LUNCHBOX - by @odxrilove {➳, ☁}

🐢 choi hansol 🐢

LIE AGAIN - by @escapewriter {✓, 📱, ☁, ⚠︎, 🗣}

one-shots/time stamps

[𝟏𝟏:𝟐𝟒𝐀𝐌] - by @sungbeam {🕰, ☁} The Valentine's Day Date - by @rubyreduji {➳, ☁} dropping you lunch at work - by @ssentimentals {➳, ☁}

🦖 lee chan 🦖

one-shots/time stamps

i like you - by @leejungchans {➳, ☁}

💎 ot13 💎

svt season's greetings - by @junkissed {➳, ☁} 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 - by @heavenshoon {➳, ☁} long distance relationships - by @wooahaes {➳, ☁}

𖠋 to be regularly updated!

part 2 -> here !

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portlandwithyou · 2 months ago

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The Blue Line- Time Stamp Roulette

Minutes: 2 8 11 14 24 27 42

#FINE I'LL GO READ THE FANFIC!#this episode is another one of my favorites #due south #duesouthedit #portland gifs

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justalittlesolarpunk · 3 months ago

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Hey, so, if you didn’t know, there are legit racist pogroms happening in the UK, primarily targeting Muslim and South Asian communities especially refugees and immigrants. So for those of you who, like me, have the misfortune to live on rainy fascist island, and might want to help, here’s my list of advice. If any of this is unhelpful, POC please feel free to correct me as I want to be as accurate and useful as possible.

Disclaimer: this is written from my perspective as a white person with full citizenship. Asylum seekers and communities of colour don’t need my advice, and know best what they need and how to practice their own care and mutual aid. This is for people not directly targeted by the riots who want to show solidarity. So,

1) listen to those most impacted and be led by their needs and wants.

2) if there’s disorder going on in your local area, mobilise with other anti-fascists to outnumber and counterprotest the rioters so they can’t attack individuals or institutions trying to help migrants or local minority communities

3) similarly, volunteer on local cleanup and donations if places like Mosques, libraries, advice bureaus or refugee housing is targeted where you live

4) join a local mutual aid network to build cohesion and solidarity in your community and be able to respond rapidly to evolving emergency situations

5) donate money to charities or organisations that work to protect and care for immigrants, refugees, religious minorities and people of colour in the UK

6) learn street first aid, including how to help someone after an acid attack

7) write to your MP, mayor and councillors and ask them to stand up vocally against racism and to take action to stamp out fascism in your community. Arrange a meeting to discuss your concerns if possible

8) donate blood in anticipation of further violence

9) don’t be a bystander if you see individual hate incidents, there have been repeated cases of lone POC being cornered by racist mobs. Be ready to step in or seek help but don’t make stupid decisions that will just put the person (or you!) in further danger

10) make an effort to educate yourself more on other cultures and spend time with neighbours who come from a different background than you

11) learn about systemic racism and the legacy of fascism and colonialism that has made the UK the kind of place where this happens

12) this is also about your own safety, but put together a go bag and have an evacuation plan for you and your family/friends/neighbours in case of local violence

13) organise a solidarity rally in your town

14) argue with your racist relatives, have difficult conversations, hold them to account and make it crystal clear that these attitudes and behaviours are absolutely unacceptable

15) send complaints in to media outlets when they refer inaccurately to ‘protests’, ‘anti-immigration rallies’, ‘pro-British groups’ and ‘legitimate concerns’, when discussing fascist pogroms, or when they imply communities of colour organising in self-defence is equally dangerous and violent

16) check in with your friends who are more likely to be targeted and offer to help in any way that’s useful, but understand they might just want time and space to process and for you to leave them alone

17) donate money to the effort to rebuild Spellow library

18) carry a spare scarf or jumper to offer to any hijabis who might have their hijab torn off

That’s everything I can think of. Let me know if you can think of anything else or if any of these suggestions aren’t useful. Stay safe out there folks, solidarity with POC and as ever, fuck the fash.

#solarpunk #hopepunk #social justice #community #mutual aid #anti fascist #UK

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twstgameplay · 7 months ago

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Shaftlands' Tapis Rouge

From Apr 5th 16:00 to Apr 26th 14:59 (JST)

How to Play

Collect Postcards during Lessons (History / Flying / Alchemy) and use those to read the Event Story. Complete Stamp Card missions for rewards.

The event is divided into 3 Parts.

Information found below:

Event Characters

Story Info

Stamp Card Info

Shop Info

Guest Room Info

Event Characters (Luxe Couture)

The event cards will help with paint collection, boosting the number of event paint that you can get during a battle. SSR Vil will drop 3 Film Fest Magical Paint and SR Jamil and SR Azul will drop 1. For event freebies, we have SR Azul and R Ace.

Making the cards permanent:

R Ace: Complete the Event Story (obtainable on Episode 2-6)

SR Azul: Complete the Event Story and collect 800 Postcards total (obtainable on Episode 3-1)

Groovies are locked until April 17th.

Story Info

Spend 5 Postcards to unlock the Event Story episodes. Some episodes need you to collect a certain amount of Postcards to unlock. Currently, we have:

Episode 2-2: 40 Postcards total

Episode 2-8: 80 Postcards total

Episode 3-3: 120 Postcards total

Episode 3-8: 160 Postcards total

Episode 4-3: 200 Postcards total

Episode 4-6: 250 Postcards total

Episode 5-4: 350 Postcards total

1st Stamp Card Info

Click on the Stamp Icon on the bottom left of the Event Page, there will be a total of 3 Stamp Cards.

The first stamp card goes until April 10th, 14:59 (JST), so pay attention to the time limit.

2nd Stamp Card Info

The second stamp card goes from April 10th 16:00 (JST) to April 17th, 14:59 (JST), so pay attention to the time limit. Image and Missions will be added when the time comes.

3rd Stamp Card Info

The third stamp card goes from April 17th, 14:59 (JST) until the end of the event at April 26th, 14:59 (JST), so pay attention to the time limit. Image and Missions will be added when the time comes.

Shop Info

This event has 2 different shops: one for Postcards and another for Collab Cosmetics. Collab Cosmetics are obtainable by completing certain parts of the story, as well as stamp mission rewards.

Postcard Shop

Extra copies of the event characters will be available once they’re made permanent.

Collab Cosmetics Shop

Luxe Couture is used to groovy the free event cards: 3 for SR Azul and 1 for R Ace. There’s a total of 4 exclusive event backgrounds that you unlock as you advance the Event Story. Card Set includes: 10 Honey EXP L and 30k madol. Book Set includes: 8 notepads, 4 textbooks and 2 grimoires

Lastly, there is a Fairest City Set in the usual Gem Shop, where you can find the Queen Statue. This item is simply for collection purposes and does not serve any purpose in the event. However, it can be built in the Guest Room after purchasing.

Guest Room Info

There will be furniture available in the guest room for a limited time for this event. You need to be at Room Rank 8 to build the furniture and furniture will unlock as you progress the event story.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst gameplay #twst event info #twst jp info

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trigun98watchparty · 9 months ago

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Alrighty!! So poll results are out (thank you so much!!!) and I'm taking it as a go-ahead for this event! Lurker majority, welcome~!

So, the tag will be #tri98watchparty, @ this blog and I will find you immediately in case your post doesn't show on the tumblr tags.

The duration of the event will be monitored (softly) from now until the first week of August (because that is 26 weeks for those who'd like the time), and primarily during the month of April (where the event will follow one episode per day for 26 days).

The prompts are set up so that anyone can build their own watch party experience however way fits them best, and of course the prompts are just there as suggestion ideas for topics and everyone is free to ignore them entirely.

The main goal of this is to have fun with your friends, on your own, with the community. Interact or lurk, we are all sharing the love and appreciating the media we were given.

It goes without saying that the main rule is to not be mean or aggressively negative towards anyone. Everyone is allowed to like and dislike something so long as no one is hurting another. I'm excited for discussions and banter!

All of this being said, if you would all like me to make a trigger warning list for each episode, please let me know!!! I've seen some out there, but I'd be happy to double check for any specific triggers that anyone has, and I can post a list with time stamps if preferred. Just specify the triggers you want flagged.

Without further delay, prompts below, and fun away!

Episode 1: The Stampede Episode 2: Water / Resources

Episode 1&2: The Legend, No Man’s Land

Episode 3: Frank / Brandon Marlon Episode 4: Derringer

Episode 3&4: Guns / Weapons, A Haunting Past / Then and Now, Forgiveness

Episode 5: Ideals / Community Episode 6: Survivor

Episode 5&6: Necessity / The Will to Survive, July

Episode 7: Memory Episode 8: Principles

Episode 7&8: Keeping a Promise, Atonement

Episode 9: Wolfwood / Kindness Episode 10: A gunman / Wit Episode 11: Milly / Strength

Episode 9&10&11: Burden / White, Black, and Gray

Episode 12: Anger, Diablo Episode 13: Complexity Episode 14: Family

Episode 12&13&14: Meryl & Milly, Mercy / Peace, Value

Episode 15: Gung-Ho Guns Episode 16: Fifth Moon

Episode 15&16: Legato, The Body / Autonomy

Episode 17: Childhood Episode 18: Anonymity / Eriks

Episode 17&18: Safety / Rem

Episode 19: To not kill Episode 20: Home Episode 21: Death

Episode 19&20&21: Brad, Loss of innocence

Episode 22: Orphanage Episode 23: Paradise

Episode 22&23: The quartet, Journey to Eden / The price to pay

Episode 24: Sacrifice Episode 25: Life / Love Episode 26: Brothers / Peace / Forgiveness

Episode 24&25&26: Healing / Love & Peace, Paradise & Redemption / The price to pay

#trigun 98 watch party #tri98watchparty #trigun #trigun 1998 #trigun 98 #tri 98 watch party

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cosmerelists · 9 months ago

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How I, Cosmerelists Blogger, Would Handle Each Type of Investiture

It's my wife's birthday tomorrow, and I asked her what kind of post she wanted for her birthday, and she said she wanted me to write a post about myself. [For those of you who used to read Bleachlists, this is entirely due to her love of the "What if BLG replaced Aizen" post back in the day.]

So, uh, here we go!

1. Allomancy: 4/10

Here's the thing: I'm bad at swallowing pills. I have to not only take a sip of water first and hold it in my mouth while I drop in the pill, but I also have to, like, psych myself up to swallow properly. And I know that the metal shards are really small, but I know in my heart that I would have trouble with it. Vin and Kelsier and Wax are, like, chugging vials of metal in the heat of battle. I'd be like, "Wait! Hang on a second; I just need to take a moment here." And then I'd die.

2. Hemalurgy: 0/10

I hate blood. I hate being stabbed even in a blood draw. I capture centipedes alive and take them outside too because even though I don't like them, I would like killing them less. I would not be able to perform or receive hemalurgy. It sounds like the worst possible time.

3. Feruchemy: 10/10

Hell yeah! I wear jewelry and I wish I could use it to store attributes for later, be it health or memory or speed or anything really. And I like that there's no swallowing or stabbing involved!

...This post doesn't have any weird innuendos going on, right?

4. Awakening: 5/10

Awakening would be...fine, I guess? It seems pretty complicated, but I can probably memorize short commands, wear colorful clothing I don't mind draining, and...oh yeah...subsist on the souls of other people? Yeah, I don't know about this one for me.

5. AonDor: 4/10

I'm really not trying to be hard on myself! I am good at many things. But coding is not one of those things, and I get the sense that that's what the AonDor is. Plus, drawing?? I don't have a very steady hand. Do you think they'd accept, like wonky Aons?

6. Dakhor: 0/10

I already have arthritis. :( I don't want twisty bones!

7. ChayShan: 2/10

I don't even remember this one really. But it sounds like it's about precise, circular motion and spatial awareness, and I have to close my eyes and think hard to put on chapstick (don't ask).

8. Forgery: 6/10

I am pretty good at research; I did grad school and all of that. I'm not really artistic though, so the making part of the stamp might be tricky. But learning the long history of an object or person does sound right up my alley!

9. Bloodsealers: 0/10

I don't like blood! Why are so many of these powers blood-powered???

10. Surgebinding: 9/10

I'd love to have a little friend who was with me all the time and deemed me worthy of special powers thanks to my innate worth. No Radiant has ever had a lick of self-esteem, and yet, I feel like that would be very good for one's self-esteem. Plus, I have always wanted magical healing powers, and (metaphorically!) drinking light feels like a cool way to get that.

I don't like heights, though, so I'd shy away from any of those "soaring through the sky powers." Maybe I could be one of those ones that stay on the ground. A ground Radiant.

11. Voidbinding: 7/10

In my head, this is kinda like just "evil surgebinding" but I'm sure it will end up being more than that! It's still basically having a friend who gives you powers, right? Just, the friend is...evil?

12. Old Magic: 3/10

I don't like taking risks. If I knew every wish came with an attached curse, I would be like, "Nah." Like, that isn't even gambling. You KNOW half of it will be bad!

13. Sand Mastery: 3/10

I still haven't read White Sand, but I am a very thirsty person, and I don't want a power that will suck water out of my body, which is how I think this works maybe.

14. Hion: 10/10

Yeah, I mean, this is just humming, bisexual electricity, right? 10/10 no notes.

15. Charred: 0/10

I mean...this is a no brainer, right? Nobody wants their chest, memories, and souls burned away by a very hot ember on a long pointy stick. I'm very white. I get burned by a normal sun.

Anyway, happy (almost) birthday to my wife!

#cosmere #cosmerelists

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matttgirlies · 6 months ago

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Matt & Me🎀

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

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

fem! reader x singer! matt

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

warnings - mentions of drug use,, mentions of cheating,, physical violence

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 12

Now I could spend every minute with Matt. There were times when we’d shut ourselves off from the rest of the world for days. Matt would leave word that he wanted “no calls unless it’s my dad or an emergency call from Colonel.” It was my time, and no one could interfere. He was all mine.

When we got hungry, I phoned down to the kitchen and ordered our food, which was brought up and placed outside our bedroom door. After we finished, we stacked our empty trays neatly back in the same place.

We saw no one, nor even the light of day. The windows were insulated with tin foil and heavy blackout drapes to prevent any hint of sunlight from entering. Time was ours, to do with as we pleased, for as long as we pleased. Matt had a few months free between film commitments, and there was no pressure to return to Hollywood. We always seemed to be more in love when we were alone. I loved those times, when he was just Matt, not trying to live up to an image or a myth. We were two people discovering each other.

Only in the privacy of our own quarters did Matt show me a side of himself which had rarely, if ever, been seen by others. With no Colonel, no scripts, no films or music, nor any other people’s problems, Matt could become a little boy again, escaping from the responsibilities of family, friends, fans, the press, and the world. Here with me, he could be vulnerable and childlike, a playful boy who stayed in his pajamas for days at a time.

One day he was the dominant one and would treat me like a child, often scolding me for an incidental action. On other days I was the stronger one, looking after him like a doting mother, making sure that he ate everything on his plate, took all of his vitamins, and didn’t miss any of his favorite TV shows like Laugh-In, The Untouchables, The Wild, Wild West, The Tonight Show, and Road Runner. We listened to early Sunday morning gospel singing—our favorites were the Stamps, the Happy Goodman Family, and Jake Hess—and we watched the old movie classics that Matt loved: Wuthering Heights, It’s a Wonderful Life, and Miracle on 34th Street.

When we weren’t watching movies, we played silly games like hide-and-seek, or we’d have pillow fights that often ended in heated discussions of who hit whom the hardest. Our arguments were usually playful, but I noticed that they could become serious, especially after we’d each taken a couple of diet pills.

One evening we had both taken uppers and were wrestling with each other. I threw a pillow at him. He ducked it, and then, laughing, threw it back. I hurled another one at him, and then another, and without giving him a chance to recover, I threw another one. The last one hit him in the face. His eyes flashed with anger.

“Goddamn it!” he snapped. “Not so rough. I don’t want to play with a goddamn man.” He grabbed my arm, throwing me on the bed, and while demonstrating how hard I had thrown the pillows, he accidentally hit me in the eye. I flung my head to the side and jumped up, accusing him of hitting me on purpose.

“You can’t play without winning,” I yelled, “even with me. You started throwing harder and harder. What did you expect me to do?”

I stomped off to my dressing room and slammed the door as I heard him yelling, “You’re not a goddamn man.”

That night, we went to the movies. My arm was bruised where he’d grabbed me, and my eye was swollen black and blue. To make matters worse—and to make sure he felt bad—I wore a patch over the bruised eye. Everyone teased me, and Matt joked, “Couldn’t help it. She tried to get rough with me. I had to show her who’s boss.”

That night I got named “Toughie.”

Despite his teasing, Matt felt terrible about the incident. He had immediately apologized to me and kept apologizing for days.

“Baby, I’m really sorry,” he said. “You know I’d never hurt you in any way, that I’d never lay a hand on you, don’t you? That was a real accident.”

Yet the incident frightened me.

From then on, I began taking fewer pills and eventually stopped. I tried to persuade him to do the same. I started to question the quantities even though I knew he had various ailments causing pain which necessitated taking prescribed medication. I did everything I could for Matt and we shared many wonderful happy times together. However, his harsh objection to stopping made me realize that there could be a problem. I assumed he knew best for himself.

Colonel William’s theory was: “If you want to see Matt Sturniolo, you buy a ticket.” Once you started passing out freebies, it meant a lot of lost income. He stuck to that policy.

Matt agreed with the Colonel, feeling that Colonel knew best, saying, “Colonel doesn’t mind taking the blame.”

When life got boring you could count on Matt to concoct some new escapade. He was extraordinarily inventive. One particularly dreary day he decided out of the blue that he didn’t like the looks of an old house located on the grounds in back of the mansion. His uncle Travis had once occupied the place, which was now used for storage. Matt took a long look at it, called his father, and told him to get a bulldozer over there right away and get rid of it.

I could imagine what was going through James’s mind: Good God, what’s he up to now? He knew if Matt was at home and bored between films, anything could happen.

When the bulldozer appeared, Matt insisted that he was going to do the honors, convincing his father—and the local fire and demolition departments—that he could handle the job himself.

Wearing his football helmet and his big furry Eskimo coat, Matt proceeded, as his entourage cheered him on, to bring down the house and set it afire. This brought the fire trucks screaming through the gates. “You’re a little late, fellows,” Matt said, a happy, mischievous smile on his face.

Another time, he ordered his go-carts to be brought out and readied to ride. He held the record, of course, for the fastest time around the large circular drive.

Trying to prove that I was just as good as the guys, I tried to equal his time. Terrified, I would speed along as Matt clocked me on his stopwatch, giving me an approving grin when I reached the fifteen-mile-per-hour mark.

He turned Graceland into a private playground for us all. He’d have gun-shooting contests and also “screaming thrill rides” when he’d pack several people into his custom-built golf cart and race around the grounds at top speed.

Graceland’s backyard had more holes in it than the moon has craters—all from Romancandle fights. On the Fourth of July Matt always spent a fortune on fireworks, which arrived by the boxload. The boys would team up sides, aim candles directly at one another, and fire.

Although there were casualties—burned fingers and singed hair—no one seemed to care. Matt himself was as carefree as a young kid, hiding and then sneaking around the opposition with surprise attacks. Matt knew how to play hard and have fun.

Unfortunately, the time came for him to go back to Hollywood. He was due to begin his new film, Viva Las Vegas. His bus was parked in front of the white stone lions flanking the front steps of Graceland, loaded and ready to go.

I hated to see him leave. Arm in arm, we walked out the door.

Suddenly I pulled him back and tried to tell him what I was feeling, but there were distractions all around—people saying goodbye, music blaring from inside the bus, Alan yelling to George Klein to keep the sound rockin’ and rollin’.

I thought, If only it were quieter, if only Matt would take me aside so we could have some privacy.

But his attention was on all the activity and he was caught up in the excitement of going back to work.

“What is it, Baby?” he asked.

“I just wish you didn’t have to leave so soon,” I said, still unable to tell him what was really on my mind. “Just when we were starting to get used to each other, you have to go. I wish there were more time.”

“I know, Little One. Just give me a couple of weeks to get into the film and maybe you can come out for a while. Be a good girl, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He gave me a quick kiss on the lips and boarded the bus, the doors slamming shut behind him. Then I heard the familiar shout, “All right. Let’s roll it!”

With a roar, the bus cruised down the hill and through the Music Gates where, as always, his fans were loyally waving goodbye and urging him to “hurry home!”

I watched until I could no longer see the red taillights fading out on Highway 51.

Cursing myself, I wondered why I couldn’t tell him what I feared. I’d been upset ever since I’d learned that his new leading lady was going to be Julia Ernst, the fastest-rising starlet in Hollywood. Julia Ernst had made only a few movies, including Bye-Bye Birdie, but she’d been dubbed “the female Matt Sturniolo.” Matt was curious about her, pointing out that “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

I realized that even had I told him my fears, he could have said nothing to put my mind at ease, because one evening he had made the mistake of telling me about the romances he’d had with many of his costars. Trying to listen calmly to these stories, I justified his behavior by reminding myself that I’d been living in Germany during those years and that we’d had no real ties then.

Now I was in his territory, living in his house with his friends, his family, and mementos of the past. It didn’t occur to me then, but I was living the way he wished—out of Hollywood society, the girl back home. I adapted. I wasn’t with him, but in a sense I was. And I assumed that he would be as faithful to me as I was to him.

Each time I would get ready to join Matt in Los Angeles he would delay my visit.

“Baby, now’s not the time to come out. There’s a problem on the set.”

“What kind of problem?”

“It’s just that all hell’s broke loose. I’ve got some crazed director madly in love with Julia. The way he’s directing it, you’d think it was her movie. He’s favoring her in all the goddamn close-up shots.” He paused, his anger rising. “Not only that, they want her to sing some of the songs with me. Colonel ’bout blew a fuse. Told ’em they’d have to pay me extra to sing with her.”

As I listened to Matt rant and rave, I tried to sympathize with him and his situation, but emotionally I was far more concerned about his leading lady than his director.

“Well, how are you and Julia Ernst getting along?” I asked.

“Oh, she’s okay, I guess.” He casually dismissed her with the line, “a typical Hollywood starlet.”

My concern was temporarily allayed. I knew that his attitude toward actresses was unfavorable. “They’re into their careers and their man comes second,” he’d say. “I don’t want to be second to anything or anyone. That’s why you don’t have to worry about my falling in love with my so-called leading ladies.”

I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t help noticing the national gossip magazines and the headlines about the torrid affair on the set of Viva Las Vegas. The problem was that the affair was not between Julia Ernst and the director. It was between Julia Ernst and Matt.

We were talking on the phone one night and I asked, “Is there anything to it?”

“Hell, no,” he said, immediately becoming defensive. “You know how these reporters are. They blow everything out of proportion. She comes around here mostly on weekends with her motorcycle. She hangs out and jokes with the guys. That’s it.”

But that was enough for me: She was there and I wasn’t.

Infuriated, I declared, “I want to come out now.”

“No, not now! We’re wrapping up the film and I’ll be home in a week or two. You keep your little ass there and keep the home fires burning.”

“The flame’s burning on low. Someone had better come home and start the fire.”

Matt laughed. “You’re beginning to sound like me,” he bragged. “I’d better watch it. There can’t be two of us walking around. I’ll be home soon, Baby. Get everything ready.” By the end of our phone call, I was eagerly making plans for his return.

I took out my calendar, counted the days until his homecoming, and then crossed them off one at a time. Threatened with doubts and fears, I did everything I could to please him, from educating myself about the gospel music he loved to taking good care of Graceland.

My eagerness to please Matt was so overwhelming that it almost angered him. He always had an excuse why his other relationships hadn’t worked out. “They were either too hometown and couldn’t fit in with my Hollywood life-style,” he said, “or they were actresses too into their careers.” But how could he get out of a commitment to such a willing partner as me?

I often felt sorry for myself, and angry at Matt for putting me in a situation in which I was forced to be alone for literally weeks at a time.

Bored, I resorted to exploring the attic at Graceland. I’d asked Grandma once what was up there, and she’d answered, “Oh, nothin’, Hon, jus’ some old junk. God, I haven’t been up there in ages. No tellin’ what’s up thereor who.”

There was no question that something was stirring around in the attic. Many nights strange noises were heard above the kitchen. Grandma said she’d heard the noises herself, lying awake, praying for daylight before even closing her eyes for sleep.

She imagined that it might be Mary Lou’s spirit up there, watching over Matt.

“Do you believe in spirits, Grandma?” I asked.

“Ah, yes, Hon. Sometimes I wander through this house and I can just feel ’em all around. Ask Hallie, she knows. She’s felt ’em too.”

Hallie was a large dark-skinned woman, our faithful and devoted companion. She stayed with Grandma and me at night while Matt was away, guarding us with her life—and a small gun that she tucked securely under the bed each night.

One evening, after Hallie turned out the lights, I asked her, “Hallie, do you think there’s spirits there, like Grandma does?”

“Well, Miss y/n, all I can tell you is that I hear strange voices I ain’t never heard before in any house I’ve ever been in, and sometimes it gits awful quiet here, a kind of stillness that I ain’t never felt neither. But don’t you lay there and worry, child. If there are any spirits, they’ll do you no harm.”

“Amen,” Grandma said.

The next day, I decided to venture up to the attic, to see for myself what was there. As I walked up the stairs, I rubbed my hand up and down the gold-painted banister, noting the chipped paint. I called out, “Don’t you think this should be repainted, Dodger?”

Grandma, standing at the bottom of the stairs, lifted her dark shades to get a closer look. “Yes, Hon, we’d better tell James. That does look bad.”

“Maybe we should do it before Matt gets home and surprise him. I’ll ask Mr. Sturniolo in the morning.”

At the top of the stairs I entered the attic and discovered Matt’s world.

Several trunks were filled with his military gear. There were old television sets and furniture that had been in his bedroom years before. I ran my hand over a couch, wondering who’d sat there with him. Jealous, I walked away.

I found two closets side by side and opened one. It was filled with clothes from Matt’s early days—black leather jackets, motorcycle hats, and a pink shirt I’d seen in pictures. I loved the way he looked in that shirt and wished he’d wear it again.

With growing curiosity, I sorted through everything. I felt closer to Matt just by touching his things, and all I could think of was what girl he’d been with at the time—Lucy, Judy, Nicole, Bonnie? I was so possessive, I had to know.

Then I came across some letters hidden under an old sweater, letters from Nicole, all addressed to him in Germany. I put them in dated order, from his arrival in Germany to his departure, and sat there for hours poring over every one.

Nicole had written at least two letters a week, all saying basically the same thing: she loved him, missed him, and was counting the days until his return—just as I had done. She had been in the process of acquiring him as a lover just as I’d been losing him. Clearly Nicole had been telling her that she was the only one in his life. Confused and hurt, I realized that he had been writing to his “Little Bit,” as he called her, that he couldn’t wait to come home and see her, at the same time that he had been holding me tightly, telling me he couldn’t bear to leave his “Little Girl.”

I felt betrayed, as I’m sure she felt when she read and heard about me. Returning the next day to investigate the adjoining closet, I came upon Mary Lou’s belongings—her clothes, her old photos and papers. It was strange to see all her dresses, hanging neatly. I knew Matt had had them put there. He couldn’t have faced throwing away any of her personal belongings.

I tried on one of her dresses and could tell that she liked soft materials on her skin, just as I did. By the size of her dress, I could see she was a small woman, and by the texture, I knew she cared more about the feel of a dress than about fashion or style. She liked to dress simply and comfortably. I felt guilty in her dress, but it gave me a better sense of Mary Lou Sturniolo: a woman, as Grandma had described her, with a heart of gold—yet you never wanted to cross her. When she was angry, “she cussed like a sailor and had the wrath of God in her.”

I felt sad—for Matt, for Mary Lou, for us all because we have to contend with death. Life could be so different if Mary Lou were here, I thought, weeping as though she were my own mother. I felt Mary Lou’s presence in that little room, also her grief and loneliness. Maybe it was her spirit that Grandma and Hallie sensed.

All of a sudden, Hallie’s face appeared in the doorway. We both screamed with fright, yelling, “What are you doing up here?”.

“Child, this ain’t no place you should be. Too many sad memories. B’sides, it’s dark and scary. Only reason I come up is ’cause Miss Minnie was worried ’bout you.”

Then, as Hallie walked away, waving her hands above her head, she said under her breath, “No ma’am, I don’t like it up here.”

The next time Matt returned to Los Angeles, where he was to begin filming Kissin’ Cousins, I flew with him. I loved L.A. It was exciting compared to the slow pace I had grown accustomed to in Boston. Best of all, I felt a part of Matt’s world. His hectic schedule and daily life were realities to me now, no longer just remote events chronicled in our nightly phone calls.

The problem was that his life still included Julia Ernst, despite the fact that their film, Viva Las Vegas, had been completed six weeks before. The newspapers were reporting their “blossoming” affair daily, each article hitting me like a slap in the face. I thought, When will this be over—the news, the gossip, the headlines, the affair.

Matt returned from the studio one afternoon, carrying a newspaper and fuming. “I can’t believe she did it.” He flung the paper against the wall in disgust. “She had the goddamn nerve to announce we’re engaged.”

Though I was pretty sure of the answer, I asked, “Who?”

“Julia Ernst. Every major newspaper in America’s picked it up. The rumor’s spread like a goddamn disease.”

Turning to me, he said, “Honey, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave. The press will be hanging around the gate and following me all over for a statement. Colonel suggests maybe you should go back to Boston till it calms down.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Suddenly all the months of unbearable silence broke and I screamed, “What’s going on here? I’m tired of these secrets. Telephone calls. Notes. Newspapers!” I picked up a flower vase and hurled it across the room, shattering it against the wall. “I hate her!” I shouted. “Why doesn’t she keep her ass out of here where she belongs?”

Matt grabbed me and threw me on the bed. “Look, goddamn it! I didn’t know this was going to get out of hand. I want a woman who’s going to understand that things like this might just happen.” He gave me a hard, penetrating look. “Are you going to be her—or not?”

I stared back at him, furious and defiant, hating him for what he was putting me through.

After a long pause, our tempers cooled considerably. Once again desperate to please, I said, “I’ll leave tomorrow. I’ll be waiting in Boston.”

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - 3 songs for extra long chapter!! (can you tell i like ultraviolence😬) 🎀

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

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