#singler

[thegolddevil]

Singler Art

[arkhanoz]

Sophia Singler

https://www.instagram.com/sophia_singler/

[silvertsundere]

Chiara putting on her lipstick by Xianggu! 💋

[badschmitt24071994]

Vice: Project Doom, known in Japan as Gun-Dec (ガンデック), is an action video game developed by Aicom and published by Sammy Corporation for the Nintendo Entertainment System. The game was released in Japan on April 26, 1991, and in North America on November 1991. Vice: Project Doom is a side-scrolling platformer with noticeable similarities to the Ninja Gaiden series for the NES, with the addition of gun shooting and driving segments as well. The player assumes the role of a secret agent who must uncover a conspiracy involving a new kind of alien substance. A Sega Mega Drive conversion titled Deep Scanner was in development, but never released.It was released on Nintendo Switch Online in August 2019.

Plot:

The game has a large number of cut-scenes for its time, in which a full-fledged plot in the genres of anime, noir and biopunk is revealed.

In the distant future, the B.E.D.A. Corporation, a company involved in the development of electronic equipment and military weapons, is actually a front operated by a race of alien beings who have been living on the Earth for centuries in secrecy. The aliens have developed a substance named "Gel", which was initially intended to be used as food for their species, but also functions as an addictive substance to humans that results in terrible side-effects and is now being sold as an illegal drug within the underworld. The player takes the role of Detective Hart, a member of the Vice unit who is assigned to investigate the B.E.D.A. Corporation following the disappearance of his partner Reese during a previous case.During his mission, Hart is assisted by his lover and fellow Vice agent Christy, and Sophia, an acquaintance of the two.

Inspector Hart is ordered to stop a maniac on a road. After battling a high-tech, heavily armed truck, Hart discovers a monster, not a man, behind the wheel. His cargo is an unknown substance. Hart asks Christy and Sophia to find out its nature, and they report that the substance (probably a drug) leads to mafia and sorcerer Kim Long (in other translation – Kim Ron). Hart goes to China in search of him, and after breaking through mafia and monsters, he defeats Kim in battle. Christy determines that his clothes had soil particles from city of Ricardo (probably fictitious) in Central America. The information received leads Hart to a secret research base in the jungle, where he fights a certain flying cyborg. Defeating him, Hart recognizes his former friend, Captain Reese, whom he believed to be dead. He repents that he was once considered a war hero, because "there are no heroes in war." He tries to tell that a man with the face of Hart himself is behind the vice project, but at that moment he receives a bullet from an unknown sniper, but manages to say that Chris was kidnapped. The hero pursues the mercenaries on a train, fights the cyborgs in sewers and at the power plant, and finally Sofia says that Chris needs to be looked for in the biolaboratory. There he witnesses experiments on humans and animals and fights with a certain slimy mutant, but after defeating it, he realizes this is Chris, she confesses her love to him and dies in his arms, having managed to report that B.E.D.A. Corporation is behind everything (in Russian "beda" means "trouble", "doom"). Hart also sees his own clones in the flasks. To avenge his girlfriend, Hart breaks through an ambush on the road and enters the corporate headquarters, where director is waiting for him behind the security lines, and he looks like an aged Hart. He explains that he considers all of humanity to be pigs, and himself to be the one who can give them everything they deserve, the hero is a clone of the villain, and the corporation should be controlled by a dynasty of such clones, replacing each other. Hart refuses the offer to take over the board. A fight ensues between them, and Hart defeats the director of the corporation, first as a human, then as a monster. Dying, he says that fate cannot be avoided. Hart leaves, but another clone comes to life in the flask.

[music-for-them-asses]

This is my third Pride since I've realized I'm not straight, but I'm still hesitant to put a label on it for a thousand different reasons. But I'm learning that I don't need to know exactly what to call it, and that I don't need the ~ExPeRiEnCe~ to be considered LGBTQ+. Maybe this time next year I'll feel more confident about it.

Happy pride, everyone 🌈

[thedeviljudges]

i just had the wildest call with the insurance ppl to get a new renter's policy.

dude's just chatting away, told me i speak so well and he's very happy to talk to a white person who's nice. we talked about journalism (cuz he had to ask what i do), and went in to how media tries to mimic ppl and we try to mimic them. told me he hopes his daughter turns out like me cuz i'm very well spoken.

it somehow got into not super politics but he was making jokes about he's very happy to know there's good people over in texas who aren't discriminatory toward women, minorities and cat ladies, lmaooooo.

i'm still laughing like WHAT was this interaction. 😂😂

[davidtennantpussytulpa]

thank you for my life local thrift shop having a $1 clearance sale so i can be enabled to buy many clothes i did not need to buy.

[singeratlarge]

WHAT IS JUNETEENTH? Today marks the celebration of Juneteenth, a holiday commemorating June 19, 1865, when Union army soldiers arrived in Galveston TX to announce the end of the Civil War and the end of slavery. It came almost two and a half years after President Abraham Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation. In 1968 Juneteenth received a major boost in when, after Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination, his Poor People’s Campaign held a Solidarity Day in Washington, D.C. In 1996 Texas became the first to make it a state holiday, signed into law by then Gov. George W. Bush. In 2021, Pres. Joe Biden signed it into federal holiday status. This year it resonates again as activists and patriotic citizens continue to work for change across the country.

I used to live in Williamsport PA. In the mid-19th Century, Williamsport was a relay station for runaway slaves and the Underground Railroad, and there are historical markers around the area today. As a musician and coordinator, I served on eight Juneteenth celebrations between 1999 and 2010. In 2002 I recorded “United,” a song largely written by ex-football player Marlon Walker and powerfully sung by gospel singer Henrietta Hadley. “United” was commissioned by Penn State University and was used in a video that addressed racism issues going on around the campus. Obviously, the message still applies.

https://johnnyjblairsingeratlarge.bandcamp.com/album/united-single-remixes

#united #unity #racialharmony #juneteenth #emancipation #abrahamlincoln #georgewbush #texas #governor #president #joebiden #williamsportpa #gospelsinger #henriettahadley #marlonwalker #timbreon #johnnyjblair #pennstateuniversity #racism

[upsidedownmvnson]

tell me you love me | steve harrington

warnings: fluff (warning lol) friends to lovers, idiots to lovers,

a/n: i actually really loved this <3 i hope you do too

tell me you love me vol 2

Steve Harrington had already tried twice in his life to confess his love for you.

The first time, you two were in the tenth grade and you had just accepted stupid Jack Warren's invitation to prom, so Steve didn't bother. That was back when he was settling into popularity anyway, so he got over it pretty quickly. He was dating Cathy Bartlett the next week.

The second time, Robin had made him pinky promise not to date you. She had held him down, sat on his back and twisted his arm until he pinky swore that he wouldn't do anything to destroy the delicate ecosystem of the friend group. There was already one awkward ex-situation in there.

But Robin was right, you were not like the girls he normally dated. If things went wrong he wouldn't be able to just sweep it under the rug, it could have painful ramifications for all his friends. Although... he didn't actually think it would go that bad. Steve would find his mind wandering on the idea often. He pictured the two of you in the kitchen, side by side cooking dinner and talking about your day. When he thought of you, it felt like home. It felt like somewhere he could build a house and live forever.

If he could only get the words out, he'd realize how quickly you'd accept him. He'd realize he wasn't the only one of you that was stupid in love.

You had been in love with Steve since you could remember. But never once thought he'd shared your interest, not with all the girls around him all the time. The way he shines in their attention and basks in their praise, it's enough to make you sure he's happy with how it is. Or he probably wouldn't have told you all about his date with Debbie Dabbenthorn, right?

Tonight, you, Nancy and Robin were at a party. Something Steve desperately tried to make not happen. But he was working, so there was no one to stop you girls from coaxing each other into drink after drink, which you always did. The three of you always drank too much, and Steve always got stuck trying to coral you and Robin into his car.

At the party, Nancy was handing you another red cup filled to the brim, sloshing over the side and coating your fingers. You hadn't noticed.

"I love when we ditch the boys," Nancy said, smiling as she sipped out of her own solo cup. "It's so fun!"

"Same," Robin said, slinging her arm around Nancy's shoulers, making the two of them sway and laugh. They caught their balance and cheered drinks. "Hey, help me find the bathroom!"

It wasn't hard to find, but it was hard for all three of you to get there without knocking into each other, but it didn't matter. The three of you giggled the whole way, laughing too hard over barely anything. Enjoying the simple joy of being with your friends on a party.

The line for the bathroom was short, only a few people deep. Nancy was grilling Robin on her love life while Robin evaded every question with a vague answer, soon, she turned it onto you, focusing Nancy on the other singler girl in the group.

"Do you not think anyone is cute at least?" Nancy said, not quite believing you when you say you didn't have a crush on anyone at the moment. You shrugged, trying to avoid admitting that it was her ex boyfriend that really turned your head. Robin chuckled, and slid into the bathroom.

You started sipping your drink when Nancy asked, "Not even Steve?" and you nearly choked, but you coughed once and composed yourself. You stared at her, confused as to why she would bring him up.

"You don't have to say anything," she said, and you looked into your cup, noting that you'd need a replacement after this trip. "But it would be okay with me."

Robin opened the bathroom door again, reassembling the trio be throwing her arms around both of your shoulders. "New drinks!" she cheered, steering you all in the direction of the kitchen.

"Drink up," Nancy giggled, "and then let's dance!"

So that's what you did, you guys drank and danced and had a great time. Until Jonathan came to pick up Nancy. That's when you saw that it was after nine, so Steve should've been on the way to come collect you and Robin from your drunken outing. You told Robin again how nice it was for Steve to come get you.

"But c'mon, you love him right?" Robin asked, laughing at your shock.

"I do not love him," you argued, but you did. Robin shrugged, but didn't look convinced. "He just is beautiful, that's all."

"Nah," she said, brushing off the idea with a wave of her hand. "You just love him."

"Do not," you mumbled. But Robin already leaned the other way when Vicki walked up to talk to her. You leaned further into the couch, the ugly thing was very comfortable. Steve should be there any minute.

"Hey," Robin whispered, "Vicki invited me to go with her friends to the lake... Are you gunna be okay here? You're not too drunk are you? Because if you think you can't stay awake, I'll stay of course..."

"Robin, go! I'll be fine for like two minutes..." you slurred, you were pretty drunk but Steve really was going to be there any second.

"Okay!" she didn't have to be told twice before she was scrambling after Vicki in her love-drunk haze. Or maybe just regular drunk, but Robin was feeling giddy anyway.

Steve was running behind because he lost the address that Robin had given him. She'd just ripped off a corner of a piece of paper, and Steve had lost it at some point in his shift. When he finally found the place he was thirty minutes behind.

When he got inside you were curled up on the couch alone, snoozing while some couple made out next to you in the spot Robin had vacated. He smiled when he saw you, and took a knee next to you, trying to wake you up nicely. He stroked your cheek, and tucked some hair behind ear, making you stir softly in your slumber.

"Time to get up," Steve said, "Where's Robin?"

"Went with Vicki," you whispered, rubbing your eyes, smudging whatever makeup wasn't already ruined from the dancing.

"Well, how mean of her to leave you here all alone," he said, running his thumb along your cheek again. "Can't trust you guys alone now though, she did leave you to fall asleep at a house party. That's like really bad, I'm mad at her."

You made a soft noise in response, his stern voice was, not so stern. He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was. Leaning close to you, rubbing your cheek, hair falling perfectly on his forehead and you just wanted to reach up and brush it away like he did. But your hands were wedged under your head, and you were afraid that if you stirred even an inch, he would leave, and this moment would be over.

"Guess you'll just have to make sure you come with us next time," you whispered, eyes bloodshot and glossy from all the alcohol. He thought you were the most beautiful girl in the room. The party was still raging around him, and he easily could've found a place within the girls, but he was content in this moment with you. Your eyes started feeling heavy, and you couldn't stop them from constantly fluttering shut.

“C'mon let me help you up babe,” Steve said, aiding your drunk figure. The nickname made your stomach flip. You were dead weight, giggling as he took care of you and grabbed your things and still found the patience to be kind to you, musing like he was interested in all your drunk babble.

“You're just so pretty, Stevie, it's stupid,” you cooed, finding a place beside him with his arms around you for balance as he lead you, slowly, to his car.

"D-Don't say that stuff," Steve said, voice cracking at the beginning. You were drunk, and it was dark, but you still noticed the blush on Steve's cheeks, and you smiled.

He opened the door for you, and you commented, "so romantic," while holding your hand over your heart, and Steve's heart raced. He went around the trunk of his car to get another second of fresh air, if you saw him in the light you were sure to see the heat he felt in his neck and cheeks. You were flirting with him, and he couldn't contain his excitement every time you complimented him, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.

The entire trip was like that. From the moment he was in the car you were just a loose cannon of compliments and praises. This combination of him sober and you drunk has never happened while alone before. Were you this flirty with him when he was drunk too?

The answer was yes. The real reason Nancy knew you really wanted Steve was because whenever you two are drunk and together you look like you're in love... because you are. Holding hands, head on shoulder, legs across laps, big bright smiles that made everyone think you were truly, madly, deeply in love. Everything that's just a little too friendly, but never crossing that silly little line that kept you both under the umbrella of just friends.

You were a delight in his passenger seat. He only wished you spoke like this when you were sober, because then maybe he'd know for sure you love him too.

"Hey Steve?" you asked, voice coming out as almost a purr in your sleepy state. Steve's heart melted. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Yeah," he answered, clearing his throat and moving his hand over to your lap, intertwining your fingers. Your hands were cold to the touch, but all you felt was the comforting warmth of him. You were both smiling, goofy grins to match the butterflies in your stomach. "You can hold my hand whenever you like."

You made another happy hum, but said nothing else. The ride was short. No words exchanged, just the quiet songs on the radio, turned low to let you drift off in the passenger seat.

When you got to his house, he parked the car, looking at you. He didn't want to wake you. And he didn't want to let go of your hand. Maybe he should just stay in the car all night.

Of course he didn't do that. Steve weaseled his way out of your grip, not bothering to hide how pleased he was that you whined at the loss of his touch. he helped you out of the car, encouraging you to climb on his back for "an express ride to the VIP bathroom," and he delivered, carrying you, all dead weight and giggling, to the bathroom where he left you to clean up. You put on the clothes he delivered, Plaid pajama pants and a big grey shirt. Well, you put the shirt on, the pajama pants were thrown into the tub, because you couldn't be forced to wear pants.

"Steeeeeve," you slurred, leaving the bathroom, giggling and bumping into the doorframe.

Steve was standing in the doorway to his room, wearing only blue plaid pj pants. His torso on glorious display, while he stood frozen at the sight of you. You stretched your arms over your head, and the shirt rose, exposing your panties to him. He nearly choked looking at you.

"Can I sleep in your room?" you asked, smiling at the effect you had on him. "Look how cute I am," you said, turning around and lifting the shirt while bending over slightly, giving him a perfect view of your ass, with the panties laying deliciously over your cheeks.

"Jesus," he muttered, unable to look away but trying to force himself to. He shouldn't be sneaking a peak while you were this drunk, but in his defence you were the one showing him. "Come to bed, just put your shirt down."

"It's your shirt," you teased, obeying him anyway. You danced behind him into the room, and crawled into bed. It smelled so good, it smelled like him. You could've stayed by Steve's side under these blankets forever.

You lay facing Steve, in his overly big, overly comfortable bed, too tired and drunk to keep your eyes open, but you still try. Steve smiles at your determination to stay awake, he watches your eyes blink quickly, trying to shake the sleep away.

You want to reach over and intertwine your hands, you don’t. He wants to reach out and brush the hair off your forehead and behind your ear, he doesn’t.

“Are we in love, Steve?”

The sharpness of your question cuts him, wounding him in a way he didn’t know was possible. He wanted to speak, but there were no words. No charismatic come back, and no way to avoid the lingering question in the air. Steve holds his tears back. He really did love you.

When your eyes peak open, he’s nodding. His eyes filled with tears that he refuses to let you see, but you see. "Yeah, I think so."

“Why is it so sad?”

“Because we're best friends," he said, "and I can't lose you."

"Tell me you love me," you whispered, silly mood replaced with a tight feeling in your throat, like you were going to cry. But you held it back.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too."

He wanted to cry. He wanted to kiss you. But instead, he just sighed, and found your hand under the sheets, and held it tightly. He was frozen. This was his dream come true, so why did it feel like a nightmare? Like you were right there, but he couldn't have you. Like he was doomed to stay in love with you, and never actually get to be with you.

“I will still love you in the morning whether I say it or not, Stevie.” Your eyes finally started winning the battle, and they stayed closed more than they stayed open, too heavy too fight.

"I know babe," he said, watching as you breathing changed and your eyes didn't open again. "I will too."

[wedoawesome]

AJ Smith slams through Spotify with an impressive count of 1.5 million streams!

“We’re All Gonna Die” is AJ Smith’s latest release that we’ve been listening to on repeat. It’s the key anthem to reminding his audience that you should live life to the fullest and make the most of the time you might unknowingly have left. The song is short and sweet with a run time of 2 minutes and 35 seconds. You could say that it was done on purpose to further represent the feeling of having too little time, and we think that’s some pretty great symbolism. There are some really cool video game sounding synths in the back of the mix that sounds fun and innovative! It’s adds an awesome sense of personality that we’ve been loving! 

[spiribia]

dating apps are funny because they profit off you being single and lonely. the singler and lonelier, the CEO of Hinge smiles

[starliights-shining]

Hello!

Can I request TFP Soundwave, Shockwave, and Dreadwing with a gn human reader who likes to draw and paint on the walls, but the cons always tell them not to and often put them in a "time out" when they don't listen, but the human doesn't care and continues to do it?

Thank you!

Yes you can! I Always forget to go to the bottom on my ask box and do these request, so if you requested something late march and haven't seen it, I just forget to look and do these ones. I'm not neglecting you, I swear. I hope this is what you were looking for. Enjoy :)

Pairings: TFP! Soundwave x Reader, Shockwave x Reader, Dreadwing x Reader

Warnings: None,

Shockwave 

Shockwave I feel like doesn’t really care about you drawing, just you drawing on the walls outside of his lab. He tries to keep you and your drawings in his lab, but you’ve drawn all over the walls. So you go out, draw on other walls. Which means time out, he had his own little corner for you, colorless, a chair that faces that blank corner. He makes sure you don’t draw on that corner, EVER. 

Shockwave kept an optic on you, but would often forget about the activities you do. Drawing, it's what keeps you calm and makes life enjoyable. So when he was off in his lab building god knows what, you took your drawing box and went to find a new canvas. The Nemesis needed color, and you were going to supply that color, especially since the only colors that existed were from Knockout and like one more. The swooshing sound of the door opening filled your ears as you left. You little metal box, clinking in your hands as you walked the large cold halls. You made it to what you assumed was the main control room hall, the emptiest spot on the entire ship, and was always closest to Megatron, but you simply do not care. You made a little spot and got to drawing, this time you’d make a mural, something nice and friendly for other cons to see and think happy thoughts to. You had gotten half way, when you heard the loud footsteps of someone. Your head turning and your eyes landing on Shockwave. His singler Red optic seemed to glow differently this time.

“These illogical actions cannot go without punishment.” 

He said as his large servos went to pick up your utensil, and scooped you up in one go. Before you knew it you were back in his lab, facing that same blank corner, he stood to your left, a digit pointing at the ground. He didn’t say anything, but you knew it was time out. You let out a sigh and then slumped in your chair. He went back to work. 

It had been about 5 minutes, you were bored, staring at the blank gray slate wall. You stuck your hand in your coat pocket and felt a cylinder stick. You pulled it out to see it was a paint marker in yellow. A wicked smile makes it home on your face and you turn to look at Shockwave over your shoulder. His back towards you as you uncapped the marker and started drawing. 

You had the entire corner with yellow flowers and butterflies and a few other things. You were starting on a new flower when a dark gray servo grabbed your wrist. You dropped the marker, your eyes trailing up his arm and to his optic. Even though you were in time out, and he had supposedly taken the markers from you, you still managed to give him the vibes of not caring. He released your wrist, and walked away, he figured no matter how much time out he gives you. He cannot stop you, it’s better you draw in here then out where other Cons could get you.

 

Soundwave

Soundwave, I feel like he cares a little too much about what other Cons will do to you, if they catch you drawing, so he tries to keep you in rooms where he is. I also think he doesn’t care about putting you in time out, his version is just sticking you in a room where you can just draw and be safe. I also think if it comes down to it, he’ll let you draw on him as well, if it keeps you outta trouble and away from other Cons. 

When you disappeared Soundwave looked everywhere, you weren’t found in your normal spots, and he tried to follow the scattered drawings you made, but it ended up leading him nowhere. It wasn’t until he got a com from Starscream to meet him in the control room. 

There you were, trying your best to get out of the grip Starscream had on your arm, your little cloth bag of your markers dropped on the ground next to you. Your free hand was pulling at the metal servo, and a pained look on your face. 

“Your pet has a habit of getting out. You should keep a better optic on them if you want to keep them alive.” 

Starscream pulled you closer to him, holding your arm up above your head. Your eyes traveled to Soundwave, who was now standing next to you and the con, a servo on Starscream's arm that held onto you. The cons stared at each other, before Starscream let out a nervous laugh and let go. 

“Just keep your pet controlled.” 

He walked away, you both watched before you looked up at Soundwave. His visor was blank as he looked down at you, you could hear a small whirring noise and a smiley face appeared on his visor. You smiled back, you knew he’d put you in time out for the trouble you’ve caused today, but it didn’t matter. As long as he was the one to retrieve you, you didn’t care. You bent down to pick up your bag and when you straightened back up, Soundwave had a servo on your upper back, while his other directed you out. You followed, letting him usher you in the direction of the comms room. He opened the door and walked to the little makeshift room he kept for you, the same servo positions to usher you into the room. He was showing you time out, you walked in and watched him close the door. You sat down, not wanting to draw, you didn’t feel in trouble, more like just locked in your room for back talk, just there was no back talk. You wanted to take the initiative, and actually be in time out, and you did, arms crossed as you stared at the wall in front of you. This only lasted for like 2 minutes, before you picked up your paint makers and went back to it. 

It was the sound of the door opening that broke you from you drawing trance. You head whipping to it, Soundwave stood in the doorway, a servo up as he waved at you, causing you to laugh. He stepped away, showing you that you were no longer stuck in time out and allowed to move around. You smiled, and continued drawing the pretty purple smiley faces on every flower. 

Dreadwing

Dreadwing feels like the type to not like your drawings. His version of time out is making you wash it off the walls, and you hate it. Arms crossed as he put you in front of your art with a bucket and a sponge, an evil looking digit pointing at the wall. He thinks the drawing is cute, but he will not have you disobeying his order and rules. No drawing means No drawing, no exceptions. 

You were left for 30 minutes, it took you 5 to find your hidden markers and find a spot to start. The pretty mural was of him, a nice flower field, a few bees and you were there too. Since he was always busy these were the closest things you would get to actually going outside with him. So when he rounded the corner and saw you drawing on it, you froze, saying ‘If I don't move he can’t see me’ unfortunately, it didn’t work. 

“(Y/N), what did I tell you about drawing on the walls?” 

His tone was cold, dead almost, normally he tried to put something in it so it didn’t scare you but this time there was nothing. You sighed, capping the marker and starting to pout. Plan B was in motion, pout and look cute, he can’t say no if you look cute right? He did, a servo out in demand of your markers, and you listened, handing him the box he had hidden twenty times now. 

“Come on.” 

You got up from your spot and followed him, you knew where he was going, time out, a corner in his quarters. When you arrived you walked straight past him and to the chair. That same pout on your face and your arms crossed. He didn’t say anything, just left. When he returned he had called your name, in his servo was the bucket. You left out a loud huff, following him to the mural where he told you the same thing he did last time. 

“Clean,”

He stood next to you, in watch, just to make sure you did what you needed too. You started with the bottom. The green grass washes away with every left to right motion you made. You were cursing yourself mentally for always drawing, you could just like not, but why would you. This ship was borning the same gray color with that ugly gray color, and the occasional purple, you made it known to Dreadwing it did not mix, but he didn’t care. Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of another Con. 

“Good, keep your pet working. Maybe this way it’ll be useful. Those awful drawings shouldn’t be staying” 

The snarky comment came from Starscream, who walked past the two of you. You looked up at Dreadwing, he didn’t say anything, his optics just following the Con as he walked out of view. You picked back up the sponge again, getting ready to continue washing away your art. 

“I regret to inform him that you will not be washing this off. Come on, we can leave this one here.” 

You smiled, his hatred for Starscream seemed to save your beautiful mural. Maybe you should draw in spots Starscream will walk by more often. 

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

They are Sinners, Not Heartless

What I love about Hazbin Hotel is the relationships we see. Either romantic, friendly to found family.

The show is about sinners going about their day in Hell. By all means, the worst of mankind, all converge in a singler area of depriverity. It easy to walk into to show expecting characters to be cutthroat, out for themselves and just be heartless to everyone.

But because a person has committed sins, doesn't mean the soul lack the greater qualities of mankind. That the soul can be a fairly decent person but wasn't virtuous enough to pass divine judgment. Or that a soul can commit heinous acts but can still have a heart.

It's interesting to watch the worst of mankind and watch them have some character growth. Or at least, witness the worst being grown to care about others.

Well start with Lucifer, the literlay king of Hell. The devil. But look how proud and adoring his daughter.

The sin of Pride, proud of his daughter.

Then you have the princess of Hell, who cares too much for everyone

two people who found love in Hell.

Then you have Sir Pentious who seem to have genuine feelings for Cherri and not driven by lust. Sacrificing himself to try to protect her and his friends.

He loves his minions

You have a group of sinners, one of them being a former overlord, who grew to care about each other and became a family. Trying to support and protect each other. Even Cherri who not in the main gang, risked her own life and safety to help Angel.

look at Husk spreading his wings to shield the other two.

Then you have the overlords, who are lead to believe are the worst of the sinners if they were able to use and kill other sinners others to climb there way to the top.

I love Camilla.

Seriously how is no one talking about Camilla including Zestial that she'll keep him safe and protected.

You have the disrespecting little shits of the Vees even forming their own family. I originally thought they were only tolerating each other for business but then they regularly hang out and support each other and their interest.

I hate how cute they are! Were suppose to not love them...they are antagonist!

Then you have Alastor, the overlord who sins are most heinous that he feels no remorse for and in fact, is given pleasure from. Arguably meant to be the worst sinner we witness living in Hell so far. But then We see, that even the worst Sinner is shown to have heart.

girl dad supporting his adoptive girl in the sidelines.

They are so cute together

Best platonic soulmates

I just love how some of these characters are meant to be the most deplorable beings but still have hearts. That they stand by their love ones to protect and support. It brings me so much joy and heartwarming to watch.

[lvrsparadise]

'LUCKY' - M.S

synopsis - She's just lucky.

warnings! - Car accidents, kissing, angst, a wedding, profanity, this is the version of 'Fourth of July' where Y/N survives.

A/N - Thank you so much to @lizzzzz333 for putting this idea in my head. I love you for that. Hope this mends the hearts I broke with the original. ♡♡

I stand up from my spot on the couch and stretch.

I check the time on my phone and it's almost 3, me and Matt decided to go to dinner at 7.

"I should head home to get ready." I walk to the kitchen where Matt is sitting at the table and give him a kiss before walking to the front door and putting my shoes one. I yell out a 'bye love out' before walking out the door and to my car.

I was at a red light, one of the only cars on the road. I hear tires screeching from my left, and suddenly an old car is driving full speed. Right at me.

Next thing I know, I'm being tossed around and I'm pretty sure my car is rolling. Then everything goes black.

----

I'm waking up, with many bright lights in my face.

I groan at the brightness of the lights and try to move my hand to block it, but I'm met with a sharp pain from my right hand.

"Y/N?!"

"M-Matt?" My throat is dry, and my voice is hoarse when I speak.

My body feels numb, and like it's on fire all at the same time. My legs hurt, my entire right arm hurts, my head is pounding, I think I'm in a neck brace, even breathing kind of hurts.

I try to turn my head to look at Matt, but I'm met with another pain, but from my neck.

"What happened? Why does everything hurt?"

"Y/N, baby. You were in a car accident."

That's when it all hits me.

I was at a red light, and some guy was driving full speed towards me.

I cough, and it hurts. Bad.

"Fuck."

Everything hurts.

"You're going to be okay. The- the doctor said you'll make a full recovery."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

I can hear the tears in his voice. I can feel tears on my own face. I can also very distantly feel Matt's hand holding my right one.

"So, I guess our date's postponed, huh?" I try to crack a joke and laugh at it but end up coughing.

I hear a quiet chuckle from Matt.

"Yeah." His voice sounds quiet, defeated, and almost as hoarse as mine.

"Do Nick and Chris know?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I called them as soon as I got here."

"How long was I out?"

"A few hours. Nick and Chris are packing overnight bags for us and are going to stop by your place and get you a few things."

"That sounds great. I'm really thirsty. Like really, really thirsty."

I hear another chuckle from beside me and hear the chair he was sitting in creak as he stands up and walks towards the room door. Yelling out of it for a doctor and a nurse.

Now a doctor is standing over me, shining another really bright light in my eyes.

"Can you like not? My eyes hurt."

"Of course. I just need you to answer a few questions for me."

The nurse is adjusting my bed so I'm sitting up. And I can see Matt's face for the first time since I woke up. God am I glad to see his face.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Friday."

"The date?"

"July 4th, 2022."

"Very good. What's your name?"

"Y/N M/N L/N."

"And what's his name?" He points his pen to Matt.

"Matthew Sturniolo. My boyfriend."

"Excellent. Do you know what happened to you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Uh, I had just left Matt's house to get ready for our date and I was at a red light and some guy was driving full speed towards me."

"Alright. You have a broken shoulder, and wrist in your right arm. A sprained elbow on your left. Broke your collarbone. Shattered one of your kneecaps, twisted an ankle, broke the other one. And broke some ribs. You should make a full recovery within the next few months. I'm Dr. Singler and this is Nurse Bowen."

"Nice to meet you. No wonder everything hurts."

"If you need anything, press this button." The nurse points to a button on the armrest on the left side of the hospital bed.

I nod my head and watch as they walk out. I shift my eyes to Matt to look at him. His eyes are red and puffy from crying, tears tracks staining his cheeks. His brown hair disheveled from him probably running his hands through it.

I crack a smile, or the best attempt at a smile I can.

"Hi."

A tearfilled chuckle leaves his mouth.

"Hi. You look so pretty."

"Really? Because I feel like shit."

"I'm sure." He leans over me and kisses my forehead gently.

"Do you think it's possible to have an engagement party in a hospital?"

I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Another chuckle.

"Wait. Matt?"

He reaches into his jeans pocket and grabs out a small object, holding it up to my face. Not just any object. No. A ring.

"Matt..."

A smile takes over his features.

"Y/N, will you be my wife?"

"Matt. Yes. I would love to." I nod my head the best I can with the neck brace, without causing any pain.

--

After about an hour and a half of watching the TV and talking, Nick and Chris walk through the door.

"You have no idea how happy I am that you're okay."

I roll my eyes.

"I love you too Nick."

I look at Chris after Nick hugs me the best he can, and his eyes are also red. Well, all of their eyes are red and puffy.

"I'm okay Chris."

I can almost see him deflate in relief.

"How did you survive?" A wave of sadness washes over me at how broken, and quiet Chris's voice is.

Truth is, I don't know how I survived. I guess. it was just luck.

"I guess I'm just lucky."

"God. Don't do that ever again." He moves to me and just about smothers me with how close he's hugging me.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

I don't want to see them sad ever again after this. It hurts me how sad each of them look. Although Matt looks better from when I first laid my eyes on him earlier. But Nick and Chris, mainly Chris, look drained. Empty. But now better. As if seeing me made them instantly better.

Sniffles are all that's heard throughout the room, other than Friends, which is playing on the TV.

After a few episodes, the nurse from earlier, Nurse Bowen, walks back in. With a cart that has food on it.

Now that I think about it. I'm really hungry.

"I assumed you guys would be hungry."

"Yeah, no thank you." Nick smiles at the nurse and takes the cart from her so she can continue with her work and rolls it over to the bed.

"One of you is going to have to feed me. I can't move my arms."

"Not it." Chris and Nick say in unison, putting a finer n the tis of their noses, both looking at Matt, who just shakes his head with a chuckle.

--

After we've all eaten and gotten comfortable, it just quiets down in the room, all of us doing something.

Nick and Chris are on the pull-out by the window, and Matt cozied up next to me on the bed the best he can without getting in the way of any medical equipment or hurting me.

But really, just having him next to me is more than enough.

"This is not how I expected our 1 year to go."

"Me neither. But at least now you're my Fiancée."

I look at the ring he put on my left hand, with a smile.

"Yeah."

----

It took exactly 3 months for me to recover. But throughout the whole process, I had so many people by my side. So many.

Matt, his brothers, his parents, Nate, Laura, Madi, and Sab were all next to me the whole time.

Matt never once left my side. The only time he did, was to film a video with his brothers.

Wasn't the best process, but it led me here, sitting in the living room at Marylou and Jimmy house with Matt, picking out a venue for our wedding.

"I like the one that had the big window."

"Of course, you do dad."

"Oh wait, what about this one?" I click on the images of the venue.

It's outside, on the beach. Not too far from the house and has great scenery.

"I think I like this one more than the other outdoor option!"

"Me too."

I turn my head to look at Matt, who is currently analyzing the computer screen with the images of the beach venue.

"What do you think about it?"

"I think, that this one might take the cake for me." He turns his head and look at me as well, a smile on his face.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, it would match with the theme we want. Wouldn't it?"

I look at the screen again.

"Yeah. It would."

"So, is that the one?"

I turn my head to Marylou, who's sitting on my right, and smile.

"Yeah. This is the one."

"Perfect!"

--------

Took a whole year of planning, but it's finally time. Today is the biggest day of my life.

We're all staying at a hotel near the beach, and we're all divided into groups. The bridesmaids, maid of honor, and flower girl with me, and the best man and groomsmen with Matt.

Currently, people are running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to make sure everything is as it should be.

Sab, my maid of honor and best friend, is currently helping me into my dress. The ceremony starts in 2 and a half hours, and everyone is ready, but me.

After a lot of pulling on strings and adjusting stuff, my dress is fully on. And it feels different than when I tried it on in the shop. Way different.

After I get my makeup done and get accessorized, 30 minutes is left until the biggest moment ever.

Matt's dad is going to walk me down the aisle, seeing as I don't know my family, and I'm so nervous.

"Y/N, calm down!"

"I can't help it! Sab, I'm about to get married, I can't calm down. I'm jittery, nervous, and happy as fuck."

"I know. But can you at least try to calm down for me?"

I nod and look at the bouquet Matt and Sab picked out for me. Purple tiger lilies, red roses, and white tulips. I pick it up and hold it in front of me as I would walking down the aisle. Trying to find the best way to do it.

--

20 minutes go by and I'm getting more and more nervous. Sab left to touch up on herself and make sure all of the bridesmaids were ready as well. I've had to sit on my hands, so I don't start biting my freshly painted nails.

Doin' Time by Lana Del Rey is playing throughout the room, but the music is not helping me calm down. I take a few deep breaths before standing back up and re-checking my appearance in the wall-length mirrors.

I don't even want to think about what would've happened if I had died in that crash I was in back in July last year. But I didn't. And I'm so happy I didn't.

After about 5 or 6 minutes, the door opens and Marylou walks in.

"Sweetie, you look stunning."

"Thank you."

"God I can't believe you're going to be my daughter in-law. Now come on, get your veil on, grab your bouquet, and let's get this show on the road."

"Yes ma'am."

I smile at her as she puts my veil on me, which is actually her veil. It's my 'something borrowed'. I stand up and grab my bouquet, and look at myself in the mirror before walking out of the room I was in.

I'm immediately greeted by Jimmy, who looks like he's about to cry.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." I nod my head and link my right arm with his left arm. Marylou quickly walks to her seat, just as the music starts.

My stomach is doing acrobatics right now. My heart is pounding, and I feel no, so nervous. But in the best way possible.

As we walk the aisle, I see so many amazing people I met within the past two years in LA. I'm so glad I moved out here with them.

Finally, we make it to my soon-to-be husband, and Jimmy moves to his spot next to his wife.

I hand my bouquet to Sab and the officiant starts going on with the basics of the ceremony.

"Do you, Y/N M/N L/N, take Matthew Bernard Sturniolo as your lawful wedded husband?"

We all chuckle and make faces at Matt's middle name.

I nod and smile.

"I do."

"Do you, Matthew Bernard Sturniolo, take Y/N M/N L/N as your lawful wedded wife?"

"God yes. I do."

A tear falls down my face. I can't believe this is happening.

"You may kiss the bride."

His hands grab my waist at lightning speed, and we lean into what might possibly be the best kiss ever.

Everyone cheers and claps, but it's all faint. It feels like the first kiss all over again. Like we're back in his room in LA.

We pull back and turn to everyone with smiles.

I didn't really get to observe Matt while we were saying our vows, but now that I am, wow he looks good.

In a classic tux with the vest and everything. He kept his earrings in and his necklace on as well. Who knew him becoming my husband would make him look so much better?

Being here, and seeing him, makes me realize just how lucky I am.

Tags ! ✮

@dwntwn-strnlo ✮ @ssturniolo @strniolo ✮ @20nugs ✮ @prettysturniolo ✮

If you want to be added to the list, all you have to do is ask !! ✮

I love all of you guys !

And I hope you all have a wonderful day and / or night ✮

[suraemoon]

It Couldn’t Be Better

Elvis x Reader - snippets of Elvis’ first Christmas with your family

Warnings: None really, just fluff and flirting

WC: 3.8k (was supposed to a blurb idk what happened)

A/N: Look, I’m aware that this isn’t good and is all over the place. I’d spend a few more days on it if I could but today is Christmas (yay!) and it would make no sense to post it any other day. I put in my masterlist that this would hopefully be out by the 25th and here it is. It’s based on the prompts “It could be worse” and something along the lines of “a character’s parent makes them tacky christmas sweaters” Merry Christmas y’all!!!!! I LOVE YOU.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“It could be worse.” Your voice radiates fake optimism as your manicured nails pick a piece of lint from the homemade, bright red knitted sweater on your upper half.

You look up from your quick maintenance to be met with Elvis’ scrunched nose and concentrated eyes as his hand pulls on his sweater's borderline turtleneck collar, a bright “Christmas tree” green to complement yours festively.

The sweaters were beautifully knit with white stripes going back in forth in turn with the chosen festive color. Glued on the knit were an array of tinseled pompoms and ironed on were different designs of patches. Smiles, hearts, stars, animals, santa’s, snowflakes, etc; they all looked like they’d be better suited on a girl’s poodle skirt. “Eh..I guess.”

Your mama had sent you two up to your bedroom to get ready in time for Christmas dinner with your whole extended family.

From her spot next to the stove in the kitchen, one that seemed permanent for her during the holiday season, Mama was cooking up her signature feast and the scent of food filled the air teasingly. The smell enveloped everyone and only built up anticipation for later in the day.

Earlier in the day, when the cold wind flowed in anticipation and the white snowflakes made themselves home, you and your boyfriend had been tasked with cleaning the whole house from top to bottom.

One of the most famous men in the country having his first Christmas at your house? Mama was quick to put a broom in his hand for she had the elder generational quality to not spend her time focusing on pop culture and society but instead what needed to be done in order to keep her home running smoothly, especially during the holidays.

“You need to wash my windows, clean my counters, sweep and mop the floors…”

You couldn’t stop a huff from leaving your lips at the housekeeping task for this was the first year that you desired to be in the kitchen, observant to her methods and helping when you can.

Your mother was easily the best cook you knew, she knew the kitchen like the back of her hand, and with your growing relationship with Elvis starting to become more and more serious, you started thinking about your own cooking skills…well the lack of.

One day you will be handed the baton of Thanksgiving and Christmas meals and there’s no harm in trying to learn the ins and outs of it now.

“You need to give the dog a bath, make sure every bedroom in the house looks neat…”

The urge to be a housewife never striked upon your young ambitious mind until you met Mr. Elvis Presley. He unknowingly had the ability to cooking, cleaning, and raising children seemed so much more desirable. A life centered around being his subservient, supportive wife seemed delicious when his hand was intertwined in yours. A few years ago, a younger and singler you would’ve called yourself crazy. Nowadays you just call yourself in love.

“You got it, ma’am.”

Elvis met this list of chores as long as Santa Claus’ list with a smile for he was a restless person always looking for something to do, always searching for an excuse to move, and you knew deep down that he missed his own mama telling him to do stuff.

Now, a few hours later, that genuine go-with-the-flow grin was replaced with the tug of his lip genuinely trying its best to exude politeness as his hand tugged on the collar of his christmas sweater again, the top of his pale collarbone teasing you in the process.

The sun was now lower in the sky but the clouds did not tire from dropping snowflakes anywhere they could. The warm light of your lamp illuminated your freshly tidied room.

It fit the comfort of the holiday spirit better than the sunshine of the early day where brightness flowed through every window as you cleaned them with a rag, the circular motion of your hand mirrored the making of a snowball. Now the view out of the window was a grayish storm of flurries, weather in which a warm sweater would come in handy.

To make light of an awkward situation, you decide to embrace it and do a quick spin in front of him, showing off your full festive outfit. The cranberry red of your oversized sweater is paired with a black leather mini skirt and black leather boots to match.

It’s an outfit that you wouldn’t usually ever wear for a family event like this. But your boyfriend's overwhelming presence: fingers that you knew would always intertwine with yours as if meant to be, an arm that would never fail to wrap around your waist, feet that would always gravitate towards being around you, it all filled you with an indescribable sense of confidence.

The pure sex appeal Elvis exuded 24/7, seemingly effortless as if the attraction comes with his nature, always inclined you to put your all into matching it’s magnetic energy. The spin stops and your feet go to tippy toes to reach up and kiss his sugar plum lips. “What do ya think?”

Elvis wets his lips as if your lipstick had a flavor and his eyes look you over your figure fully as he takes your hand to give you a quick little twirl. Instead of a full 360 it was more of two 180’s since he stopped a second to take a quick look at your back side.

A low whistle was the background music to the rest of your orbit and his cheeky little smile seemed to glow when in the presence of your maroon red lipstick. “I think I gotta see what’s under it. Gonna let me do a little inspection? Wanna make sure everything’s sitting right…working the way it’s sposed ta.”

“Elvis! It’s Christmas…gotta be family friendly.”

He chuckles as a response comes too quickly to brain, “I wanna get real friendly with you, honey.”

You hit his shoulder playfully, “Stop that.”

“Hey! It’s Christmas, honey. Thought we had to be family friendly and that hitting ain’t very holly jolly of ya. I’m surprised Santa didn’t give ya coal this year.”

“Oh please. I don’t think Santa would mind me putting ya in line for naughty thoughts.”

“I don’t think Santa would mind me bending ya over my knee for a smart mouth but…” He shrugs, putting his sleeves in his pants pockets.

You stick out your tongue at him and he laughs his beautiful laugh. Gliding as if on ice back to the mirror of your vanity, you apply some more blush to your cheeks. Getting a little too warm and secretly having the cheeky desire to show more skin, you subconsciously fold the ribbed collar of your sweater down a little bit.

When met with the black and purple of a hickey on the side of your neck, immediately the collar is put back in its original place, the fabric willing to revert back to how it was supposed to be worn and mocking you in the process as if saying “told you so”.

A whisper escapes your lip, “Jesus…”

Elvis perks up from the seat he has taken on your bed in response, for he loves an opportunity to talk to (and tease) his favorite girl, “Lord’s name in vain on his birthday?”

Your eyes, framed by black liner and an eyeshadowed lid, meet his through the mirror of the vanity, “Elvis what’d ya do to my neck? It ain’t ever been this much before.”

“Hmm…” His arms are at his sides, stabilizing himself against the plush of the comforter, and he looks simply adorable with his false pout as if thinking of a smart remark to respond with.

“Hm indeed.”

He chuckles, “Today about love ain’t it? You don’t wanna put ya collar down and show everyone how much I love ya?”

“Elvis…”

As if automatic, your eyes roll playfully and he decides to continue, “Not gonna show off that pretty little neck, huh? You always look pretty but you look even prettier when you’re all marked up…all claimed.”

“You’re too much.” You shake your head, trying to cool off the influx of red that has awoken on your cheeks.

“People wanna know which one’s E.P.’s girl? Oh, they’ll know. She got the love marks to prove it. She’s the only girl I wanna love on.”

Your soft hands go up to cover your face but they make sure to keep a safe distance in order to not mess up the canvas of progress you have made at the vanity. “Shoo…you’re too distracting. I gotta finish my makeup.”

“So…?”

“So…they’re staying covered.”

A few minutes later, he speaks again from a spot on your bed as you apply the finishing touches of your makeup. “No offense to your mama, honey, but…I don't think homemade holiday sweaters are really in trend. Not these ones at least.”

His slight frown gives way to a bright laugh, a sound prettier than the jingle bells adorning the sleeves of his sweeter.

“Everyone’s gonna be wearing one so we’re all gonna be weird together.”

“Mm.”

“Last year was polka dots…polka dots. So count yourself lucky you weren’t around for that.”

Your mother’s homemade knitted wool Christmas sweaters have been a longstanding tradition in your family since….forever. When asked, it was your great-great grandmother that started it years ago. Or was it your great-great-great grandma? No one would be surprised if the family’s Christmas sweater fascination started way back in the simple days of the cavemen when your neanderthal ancestors were in need of warmth and for some odd reason in addition to fire and sharpened sticks, they had the supplies to create tacky garments of clothing.

You and Elvis started dating in January, so this year was full of firsts with this cold December wrapping it up lovingly in a snug little bow.

When dinner was served at Elvis’ first Thanksgiving with your family, the unusual but warmly content silence around the large, wooden dinner table was interrupted abruptly by your mother’s sudden thought. A soft gasp called for hungry heads to look up from their plates.

You would think there was a lightbulb above her head or that an epiphany to solve world hunger was in her thoughts. Your mama looked at Elvis with a gleeful smile, “I’ve gotta ‘nother Christmas sweater to make this year!” You remember the way Elvis’ smile was apprehension coating in politeness, wondering what the hell she was talking about. Your mama made clothes? How has that never come up?

His blue eyes widened for a full second about two weeks later when he was sat quickly by your mother on the couch with a gift box practically shoved in his hands. “Sit, sit ,sit!” Your mama said as if a little kid again.

The same eagerness did not translate to when you sat down, as by now you knew the routine by heart. You got practically the same gift two weeks before Christmas every single year. Just different designs, patterns, and decor but in its essence the same gift filled with the same love. This was always around the time when mama gave everyone there sweaters either in person or by mail.

Now that you think about it…this giftbox looks suspiciously similar to the same one you opened last year. Is that why your mama made sure you were careful not to break it?

The ornaments on the tree, a brand new one from last year right next to one you crafted out of popsicle sticks and cardboard in kindergarten. The nostalgia and newness blended seamlessly on the forest green branches.

The opening of boxes takes attention away from the tree, a happy presence willing to blend into the background the best it can. Your perfectly wrapped and ribboned rectangle has not even been touched but you watch intently as Elvis tries to carefully peel the tape off the side of the box. Your mother wouldn’t have minded if he tore it to shreds. She would’ve told you off if you had dared, but with Elvis it would’ve been alright.

“Y-you really didn’t hafta get me anything, ma’am. It’s real kind of you.”

Your mother replies matter of factly, “Are you kidding? It’s Christmas! Of course I had to give my son-in-law something.” You and Elvis weren’t married. Not yet. But the law of the heart doesn’t care about physical papers. In the minds of your welcoming family, new people were accepted with open arms and once their hearts got on Elvis they never want him to go.

Elvis brings his attention to you for the first time in a while, lifting your chin up gently with his hands as he admires your face. “You already blessed me with your beautiful daughter. She’s better than any gift, no doubt.” A shade of pink flushes over your face as Elvis gives you a quick, soft kiss.

“Awww. My two little turtle doves. Well, I’m allowed to give ya more than one gift so go ‘head.”

When the top of the box is lifted off, a tiny sweet sounding gasp escapes Elvis’ lips as his eyes fall on the christmas sweater. “O-oh…wow, ma’am. It’s, it’s really somethin’.”

Mama watches intently, “Do ya like it?”

He could pass for a deer in headlights. “More than like it. I can’t wait to wear it for um..Christmas.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the false enthusiasm and at this noise mom’s attention turns straight to you and the box on your lap, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “Are you too cool in front of your boyfriend to open yours?”

Shaking your head, the faint sound of Christmas radio sings in your ears as you open your first gift of Christmas. It’s red to go with Elvis’ green. Youthful to contrast with a growing daughter, homey and nostalgic to compete with a fast, changing lifestyle.

Your smile is genuine as you reply, “Thanks mama. It’s really nice.”

All three of you share the most comfortable of silences. It wasn’t silent really, music flowed through the room and firewood crackled; the background ambience that makes any December day anymore special.

The memories of your mother and her cute interactions with your boyfriend (all of which showing she approved of him greatly) was interrupted by the voice of the man himself. All of sudden you were brought back where you were: in your room getting ready with the person you love the most on the 25th of December.

“You ready to go down, honey? I think I heard some people walk in.”

“Oh..yeah! Let’s go.” Taking his hand, you walk over to the door.

“Wait a second…” Your mind immediately goes to the lamp you left on but his mind is somewhere else completely. He leans down to kiss you, long and hard. The unexpected passion takes you back but your heels stay steady on the ground, all of your attention on kissing him back with the same fervidity. His calloused hand is on your soft cheek and your fingers flow through his black hair. You want the moment to never end but like all things in life it inevitably does.

“Now we can go.” His smirk is teasing and playful. He knows the effect he has on you. He knows by your red cheeks and wide eyes how weak he can make you.

“I-” Practically speechless you just nod and take his hand, walking shakily out of the door. He laughs at the sudden urgency, slapping your behind playfully as you walk in front of him.

When your face, your whole body for that matter, started to become less warm and all of the many happy greetings to family and friends were finished, the evening was going splendidly. Laughs and cheer filled the space and joy at being back together radiated off of everyone in the room.

This year, you started to become more aware of not only yourself but your surroundings. What would this look like to a fly on the wall? What would it look like to a man attending his first Christmas with the loved ones that you have grown up being accustomed to? The Christmas tree shined brightly, decorated with a mismatched array of ornaments that went together perfectly. Every seat had a person and the garlands that Elvis hung up on the walls looked down at everyone adoringly.

From your spot standing in the open arched doorway connecting the dining room and living room you are a true wall flower for a moment. You notice how the group of younger teenage cousins brought their friends over for dinner for the first time ever and it just so happened to be the year where Elvis Presley started to attend the gathering. Giggles and whispers came from the corners of the living room, juveniles no longer embarrassed by matching tacky sweaters.

Looking away, your knowing smirk turns into a wide, adoring smile as you turn your attention to Elvis playing with your littlest cousins on the fluffy rug.

Unlike their older counterparts, their innocent smiles are refreshing for they are oblivious to the fact that it is the Elvis Presley playing with them.

To the little ones, he’s just Mr. Elvis, a friend to play with. He’s cradling the youngest baby gently in his arms while sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor. A toddler in two pigtails and a bright pink knit sweater plays in his gelled hair as if on an oblivious mission to mess it up.

Little Jane managed to get her hand on a brush and was trying to play make-believe hair salon with your boyfriend. “Sit still, Mr. Elvis!”

“Oops.” Elvis winces as the hard brush hits him on the side of the head. “I’m trying, honey, I really am. Hard when you’re trying ta pull my hair out.”

“I’m tryna make ya look pretty! If you wanna look a mess just say it.”

“Maybe sometimes I wanna look a mess.”

She groans, “You hardly got a lotta hair anyway. It’s all shiny and too hard ta make ponies.” And just like that, with an attention span the size of her tiny legs, she abandons both Elvis and the brush to go play with a group of older kids about older elementary age.

Elvis chuckles lightly and focuses on the small baby still in his lap, trying to grab at him with chubby hands. His plush lashes flutter gently as he looks down and gives the little cherub all of his pretty attention and you swear right then and there, your heart was about to escape from your chest.

“Ain’t you the cutest? You’re the cutest, ain’t ya?” The baby giggles an infectious giggle and Elvis’ smirk is just as adorable.

“I gotta get myself one of ya. A cute little baby. A littlun just like you.”

“I gotta get myself one of ya.” He’s talking to a baby, and you’re his girlfriend, the only one who can help him with that wish. Stuck in place, your legs feel weak as you lean on the wall next to you for support and your stomach can be easily compared to a snow globe filled with a flurry of snowflakes. If hearts can do somersaults, yours has many times since you’ve met Elvis.

His hand envelops one of the baby’s white socks gently. “Tiny little sooties too.”

The baby’s gummy grin gets wider as he kicks his feet, fascinated with Elvis’ hand like a new toy. Your boyfriend moves up from the itty bitty feet to tickle the tiny belly lying in front of him, then his palm relaxes, moving up and down in a soothing motion over the little one’s soft sweater. By the way Elvis’ pink lips move you can tell he has started to sing a song. It’s a quiet melody just between him and the baby he's holding. The most beautiful, adorable secrets.

When you remember that you are an actual person in the room and your legs feel less like jello, in your head you decide to walk over to the spot on the rug where Elvis is sitting but before your heels could move a second step, the ringing of a bell fills the room.

“Dinner everyone!” The voice of your mother is a saving grace to every hungry soul in the house.

Elvis stands up, holding the baby securely as if he has been a professional at holding infants his whole life. The mother, your eldest cousin, walks over shyly with a blush on her face as she carefully takes the baby from Elvis’ arms so he could go eat.

“You’ve got a really cute daughter, honey…well her mama’s cute so I know where she got it from.”

Flustered, her mouth parts a little as she adjusts the smiley baby on her hip. “O-oh. Um..thank you. Thank you very much.”

He had a way of speaking, a beautiful charm, that could make any woman he comes across blush. No matter how long the sparkly wedding ring has been on their ring finger. By the way she looked at Elvis, you wouldn’t know that the young mother has been married to her actual husband for two years. You’d think the baby in her hands was Elvis’.

Elvis smirked his “I know what I’m doing” cheeky grin and kissed the baby’s cheek before walking away.

Suddenly, You and Elvis start to walk to each other simultaneously as if all that time apart wore you out and you needed another dose, attracting like the opposite sides of the strongest magnet, the two of you meet in the middle of the room.

You’re the next to get your cheek kissed and he whispers to you, “Remember when ya said earlier that things could be worse when I was grumbling ‘bout the sweater.”

“Oh, I remember.”

He holds your hand and begins to lead you to the kitchen as he finishes his thought. “I’ll tell ya. Today couldn’t get better, honey. It really couldn’t.”

As you walk, the voices of tiny children ring out suddenly, “Mistletoe! Mistletoe!” It took Elvis tapping your shoulder and pointing up to notice that the audience was addressing you and him. Through long lashes you look up and indeed a piece of green hangs above in the archway that you and Elvis stand in. To any on-looker the image of you two could’ve been a painting. You indeed felt frozen in time.

“It’s the mistletoe! That’s your boyfriend, you gotta kiss!” The tiny voices continued their protesting.

Elvis smiles at you, “Well, I guess it could get a little better. It’s bad luck to ignore the mistletoe. Need to feel ya on me…been too long.”

“Merry Christmas, Elvis.” Just like that, you reach up and kiss him, your thumb moving back and forth on his cheek as you tilt your head to the side. He starts kissing you back immediately and an eruption of tiny cheers fills the room.

[neverniko101]

Shrimp, rate my name and then let anyone one of the Sanses see my name also tell Ink I said Hiii

Ps: I have a singler hyperfixation on the Sans aus, also my name: I'm in every Sanses walls + my nickname(s) is Shadow, Shade or Night :)

Curd is trying to stay away from all the walls

Guess you could say you’ve backed him into a corner ehehehehehheh

Anyway, hello and welcome to my silly little blog! 10/10 name 😎