#AND HIS TITLE WAS SOMETHING LIKE 'TOMMYS DEAD LETS CELEBRATE' AND I WAS LIKE ??? SURELY NOT???? SURELY NOT????????

[boygirlctommy]

3 YEARS SINCE CTOMMY DIED... GOOD LORD

[elsa-writes]

Alfie Solomons x Reader: Beauty and the Beast

Part 1

Authors note: this is my first time writing for Peaky Blinders, and my first time writing a fic in a while, so please feel free to bully me for my inaccuracies! also I might change the title later cuz idk what else to title this. Enjoy!

—-

Polly pretended to disapprove of you and Arthur’s shenanigans. Reality was, she knew with you around, Arthur couldn’t get into too much trouble. True, it was not the most respectable of hobbies for a lady, to be playing cards and hanging around bars every Friday night. However, Arthur couldn’t be getting any whores pregnant when he had to watch over his young cousin. And he’d make sure you’d stay out of trouble, too. Tommy had a similar line of thinking. Although with this latest scheme, you weren’t sure you had his full support.

“Are you sure this is the best idea?”

“I think,” Arthur paused for a beat, stroking his mustache. “It will go smoothly. You want to prove yourself, that you can function in this line of business, this is it.”

“And what did Tommy say about it?” You questioned. He’d sent Arthur in his place for a meeting with Mr Solomons. You were sitting in the car outside of the distill- bakery. Arthur insisted that you come along to this meeting. Camden Town was a bit nicer than Birmingham-though not by much.

“You know Tommy, he’s, well, you know,” he blustered. In the back seat, Billy coughed.

So Tommy was not aware of this arrangement. “Right.” But you were not going to NOT go in.

You’d bumped into Mr Solomons once. He’d been leaving after having a conversation with Tommy. You scampered away before he could say anything to you. Not out of fear of him; you ran away because you were afraid Tommy would know you’d been eavesdropping. Though Mr Solomons had made a reputation for himself, from what you’d overheard, he sounded like a bit of a clown.

“Are you coming or are you going to stay in the car like a baby?”

“I’m not a baby,” you protested and stepped out into the cold air. “Finn is a baby.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t invite him for a reason.” Arthur punctuated the sentence with a slam of the automobile door.

You adjusted your outfit, making sure you looked proper and professional. “Let’s get this over with.”

A man awaited you by the door and led you inside the distillery. It was dark, and damp. The odor of rum-er, bread, permeated the air. The smell made you light headed. Your shoes echoed on the cement, the loudest sound in the room.

As you descended into the labyrinth, a man appeared from behind a corner. Mr. Solomons himself.

His hat cast an ominous shadow over his face- definitely planned for theatrical effect.

He did not react to your presence. If he recognized you he gave no sign. “Welcome, welcome! You must be Arthur!”

“Mr. Solomons,” Arthur greeted, offering a hand.

“I’ve head so much about you,” Mr. Solomons said. The amusement in his voice was evident. He wasn’t taller than your cousin, but he was stockier and way more intimidating. Billy stood on the opposite side of you, wary of the large man.

Arthur replied, “Shalom.”

You cringed. Mr. Solomons gaze flickered to one of his men behind Arthur.

“Let me just say, Shalom,” Arthur repeated, painfully serious. You felt ill. If it were a less tense situation you would have smacked him over the head.

Solomons tilted his head just enough for you to get a glimpse of the look of incredulity on his face.

“Shalom!” He said. “So glad you could join us for this most joyous of celebrations! And I see you’ve brought friends for the occasion.” Solomons nodded in your direction. You’d been instructed by Arthur to not speak too much or get involved. The same went for Billy.

Arthur shifted on his feet. “This is my cousin, and my associate. Shall we discuss business?”

“Cousin, eh? From the sounds of it, there’s a new Shelby every fucking week.” Mr Solomons chuckled. “Come along, come along.”

He lead you into a room with a table in the center. Something was off. Perhaps it was the comment Arthur had made. It had surely offended them. The Solomons men hadn’t even looked at you. Not that you wanted to be looked at. It was unusual, though. They weren’t even looking at each other.

Something else in the room caught your attention; a goat tied to the leg of the table. It bleated sadly at you. You resisted the urge to pet it.

Mr Solomons circled the table and gestured. You took note of the pipe in his hand that also seemed to function as a cane. “Take a seat, why don’t you?”

Arthur hesitated, both you and Billy watching him before making a move.

He took the chair on the end. Some of the Solomons boys were standing behind the three of you in a perfect line. Another one took a chair next to Mr Solomons, still not looking at you.

Mr Solomons himself remained standing, studying Billy like he was the most fascinating thing on the planet. “And you’ll be...”

“Billy,” Billy said.

Mr. Solomons focused his attention on you. “Shelby?”

“(Y/n),” was your answer as you sat down at the table. There were plates and cups arranged before you. You kept your hands in your lap, careful not to touch anything.

“(Y/n)...You know, out there in the sand, out there in the desert where me forefathers come from... started out as a little speck...”

“Is everything alright?” Billy leaned over to whisper to Arthur. One of the men lurking around had shut the door behind you while Mr. Solomons rambled on. Arthur tried to dismiss Billy’s concerns with a wave.

“Billy, don’t worry mate, yeah, if you want you can leave. If you need to go to the little boys room or something you can leave.” Mr. Solomons interrupted, sounding a little too much like a school teacher.

“He’s alright, he’s alright,” Arthur grinned, rubbing Billy’s shoulder. “Billy boy.”

Your stomach churned. Something was wrong. This was not the kind of conversation that Tommy and Mr Solomons had had the day you eavesdropped. This was not the simple meeting you were promised.

“You want to stay?” Mr Solomons asked Billy; staring at him so intensely you had to look away.

“I’ll stay.”

“You stay there, then, treacle.” Mr Solomons grimaced, and his voice suddenly became much louder. “So! The pharaoh! Have you heard of him?”

Without thinking, you nodded, and he pointed in acknowledgement at you.

“He kept my people, the Jewish people, in slavery for thousands of years.”

“Persecuted, right,” Arthur interjected, pleased with himself for making this astute observation. Mr Solomons eyes lit up with amusement.

“He did, he persecuted my race. killing the innocent, right. So this feast that we’re having here , is basically the day what when the Jewish angels decided the evil fucking Egyptians had pushed their fucking luck!”

“Right,” Arthur added.

“It’s part of our tradition to do this, for in order to make it good with god to kill a king.”

Oh fuck. You glanced towards your cousin. By the look on his innocent smiling face he had not come to the conclusion you had. Okay, keep it cool. From the rumors you knew Mr Solomons was an intelligent man who spoke in idiotic riddles. You could have been misreading things. Sabini could be the pharaoh in the story.

“Right,” Arthur said again. What was Tommy doing at this moment?

“That is the ritual of the sacrifice of the pass over goat.” Mr Solomons said.

Everyone at the table turned to look at the bleating creature.

Arthur looked ill. “A goat?”

Mr Solomons gestured to it. “Yeah, we’re gonna sacrifice it. Tonight. That’s part of the reason why we have to shut the doors as well.”

You wished Arthur had let you keep a gun. You were a sitting duck. Every muscle in your body tensed, ready for the action. No, Tommy wasn’t the pharaoh.

“But this year we thought we’d give the fucking goat a name!” He grinned.

“You named it.”

“We fucking did.”

You averted your eyes as a man put a knife to the goats neck. “Arthur?”

“You named the fucking goat.” He shifted in his chair. It seemed as if he was catching on.

“Evil fucking Egyptian pharaoh-“

“The fucking-“

“And you know what we called it?”

“What’d you call it?”

Your hands balled into fists.

“Tommy Shelby,” Mr Solomons answered with a hint of triumph.

As the blood of the goat spilled on the ground you dropped to the floor. Chaos ensued; a gunshot fired so loud your ears rang. It took a few seconds for your hearing to return. Arthur was screaming. You looked up to see poor Billy slumped in his chair, covered in blood, not moving. You brought your knees to your chest and covered your head to avoid any potential stray bullets. Three of the men had to restrain Arthur, who thrashed and cursed.

Heavy footsteps approached. You scooted back further under the safety of the table. Trying to help him would be useless; you were outnumbered and they had guns.

Arthur went quiet, his freckled face pale.

The back of Mr. Solomons came into view.

“That’s that. So, and the evil Egyptian scum was finally cleansed by the blood of the Passover goat. Mate.”

You covered your moth with a hand.

He kissed Arthur’s cheek twice. “That’s for Sabini.”

Then he promptly bashed Arthur over the head. Funnily enough, it brought back memories of all the times you’d seen Arthur do the same thing to someone else. The urge to laugh overwhelmed you.

Mr Solomons dropped into a squat and placed the gun he’d shot Billy with into Arthur’s hand.

While he was in this position he noticed you under the table.

“Ah, hello there,” he grunted, eyes looking you up and down.

You wanted to swear, or grab the gun from Arthur’s limp hand, or do something very impressive.

He stared at you, waiting for a reply.

“Hi,” you sputtered out. “Is he dead?”

“Oh, nah, that would ruin the fun. You were not supposed to be here tonight.”

“I know.”

“Right. What the fuck am I going to do with you?”

“Let me go?” You suggested. It was worth a try.

He scratched his beard, lost in thought. “Cute, but I think not. That wouldn’t exactly wrap things up nicely, would it?”

A heavy pause lingered in the air. You pulled your knees in even closer, in an instinctual effort to protect yourself.

“Ok. Well! Lads, why don’t you take our guest upstairs?”

“Excuse me? No, no way.”

One of the men grabbed your arm, yanking you to your feet.

“Hey!” You struggled to get your arm free.

Mr Solomons stood up and turned away from you.

“You’re gonna kidnap me and you can’t even look me in the face! Fucking coward!” You shoved the man off but slipped in the blood on the floor, letting him get the advantage.

Another grabbed your other arm and despite your best efforts you couldn’t elbow him off. The near tumble had discombobulated you.

Mr Solomons glanced over his shoulder, as cool as a cucumber. “My good friends the London police are here if you’d prefer to go with them.”

The shock of what he’d said made you forget to fight. “Wait, what?” He didn’t have police on his payroll. Oh, Sabini did, how could you forget?

“Get the fuck off me!” You screamed.

The two men dragged you out the same moment as the doors flung open. A group of police stormed the room.

“Fucking animal came in here with a gun and he shot him in the face!” Mr. Solomons gestured with his cane, ignoring your pleas for help. “And my lads restrained him. Look at him! He’s dead! Is he dead! He’s fucking dead!” His false astonished voice followed you down the hall.

You fought back with all your effort.

“Stop fucking fighting, you’re lucky he didn’t shoot you too!” One of them said.

“Oh, how kind! How generous! Please be sure to thank him for me! Arthur! Arthur!” You didn’t know why you were screaming for him. They were carting him off to jail. Fuck. Would Tommy know? How long would it take for him to find out? “Bastards!”

Going upstairs was the worst part; you managed to slither out of their grip and ran up a few steps before tripping onto your face. They at least had the decency to not laugh.

The upstairs appeared to be some sort of flat. The two assholes threw you into the closest room, probably out of desperation to be free of you.

“What are you going to do with me?” You demanded, although you were scared of the answer.

They exchanged glances. They had let you free but blocked the door.

“Well, we’re not sure. He didn’t really give us instructions.” One said.

“I could give you some instructions. How about you go shove a-“ the threat was enough. Without rhyme or reason you charged at them like a bull.

Before you could spring your attack, they slipped out, locking the door behind themselves.

Slamming your fists on the door, you swore at them, every word imaginable.

Once you exhausted yourself you switched gears. Taking in the room; you noticed a bed shoved against a wall, a large, messy desk, and a small window. The style of the room was at least ten years out of date, and was covered in what looked like ten years of dust. This must be where Mr Solomons slept. For someone who had money he didn’t live like it.

You moved to the one window in the room. Here was a potential escape route. Except for the crowd of men huddled outside smoking. They wore aprons, like the others you saw. There was no way you could get past all of them.

But you could once they left. The only issue was making sure nothing happened to you in between then and now.

Who knew what upsetting plans he had for you? He fucking shot Billy. He could have shot you. Maybe the only reason he did it was because the police were nearby. He could be on his way up here at this very moment.

You needed to block the door. Anything to stall for time.

There was a coat rack in the corner that you used. The large cabinet full of decorative China plates looked easy to push; after a few tense moments of pushing you abandoned it and went for the desk. You investigated your work. The door could still be opened a few inches. Anything more than that would be blocked.

It should be enough. It didn’t feel like it. You were becoming aware of the heavy, dull ache in your muscles. Your ribs hurt from you dropped to the floor and bruises had begun to appear on your arms. You sat down on the creaky bed. If you were trapped in here, you might as well enjoy the “comforts” of this place.

A few hours passed. It had to be the next day already. Your thoughts were with Arthur, wondering if he’d woken up from the bashing yet. And Tommy, if he knew you were being held hostage. He was smart. He’d get you out of this. Unless he’d finally had enough of your antics and disowned you. No, no. Polly, John and Ada wouldn’t let that happen. You were spiraling and tired but too paranoid to sleep. Laying back on the bed, your eyes closed as you strained to listen for any sound. Why in the ever loving fuck had you let Arthur do this? When had he ever done anything smart?

Someone knocked at the door.

“Fuck off.” You said, a conditioned response from years of your cousins barging in on you.

Mr Solomons huffed. “Yes, yes. Listen. I’m not going to shoot you-well, I might if you get on my nerves- I have actually come to the conclusion that you may be quite useful to me.”

You sat up. “What?”

Mr Solomons opened the door, and to your relief, it got stuck on the desk. “Moving my fucking desk around?”

“I doubt I’m any use to you,” you said in your bravest voice. “Tommy will be looking for me. And he will want revenge for your betrayal with Sabini.”

He jiggled the door again. It didn’t budge. “Yeah, exactly. Revenge and all that. And I know he’s fond of you- you were at his house that day- so if I have you, right, as leverage, he’ll be less likely to put a fucking bullet in my head.”

“Did you really put Arthur in prison?”

“Yes, and I’ve just gotten word that Michael...Gray, is it, he’s been locked up too. So Tommy is probably a bit busy at the moment.”

Michael? That was probably a lie. A bluff. Polly would be in shambles.

“So are you going stay in there forever or are you going to come out?” Not taunting. Curious.

“I’ll stay in here.”

“You can come out, I’m not going to fucking hurt ya-“

“I saw you shoot Billy in the fucking head! And nearly kill Arthur!” You barked and flung the nearest object you could find, an empty bottle, at the door.

He cursed and shut the door before the bottle could slam into his head. “Didn’t you listen to a fucking word I said? Tommy Shelby would really come after me then.”

“Fuck the fuck off!” Another bottle flew through the air for good measure. This time the liquid contents splattered on the papers on the desk.

“Fucking hell,” he growled. “Stay in there as long as you want then, yeah?”

Your voice wavered. “He’s gonna come for me! And you’ll be sorry when he does!”

[harley-style]

DREAM SMP Swap AU

Dream = Wilbur : Dream comes into the server to help these two kids who are trying to stir shit up -- why not, right? He's got a fondness for chaos but also very protective and caring over his friends. VERY FOND OF TUBBO. To the point of.. well, brotherhood. Wilbur = Dream : He had a vision, to create a place where people could emancipate -- he's not above being the bad guy to keep that ideal in place. He's charming and self-confident and isn't afraid to use blackmail or get all up in your business. Has dirt on everyone but Dream. Constantly threatens secrets but subtle, yanno? Again, very charming, very persuasive.

Tubbo = Tommy : Still very sweet, but Big Crime often comes out to play more often than not. Also a huge trouble magnet, tried to start a...Honey smuggling empire? For some fucking reason, despite its innocent sounding plan, is a threat to Wilbur's land but no one has any idea why. Tommy = Tubbo : Tommy has an innate fucking fixation on music discs. He's got Cat and Mellohi personally. He dreams of starting up a music cafe/music area...? He and Dream get along swimmingly, Dream actually gifts Tommy a few music discs too, but also pins Tommy with the name discount Dave Strider.

Fundy = Eret : Was convinced earlier on by Wilbur to continue his 'legacy' and ideals. Fundy further grows into a neutral party, doing things only when it benefits him. Is the traitor from the first war. Eret = Fundy : Gets far too involved with stuff and the only way out is if he wiggles through the restraints on him. Yes that's metaphorical.

JSchlatt = Technoblade : Assists through uses of contracts and business deals. Like, hello, Tubbo's Honey smuggling business? He and Dream make an agreement, he supplies Dream and Tubbo with shit, and Dream does favors for Schlatt. Technoblade = Jschlatt : Anarchy lmfao. Was actually brought on by Wilbur in secret. Acted as a benefactor for Dream before turning around and causing chaos in the land Dream Tubbo and Tommy built. Blood for the blood god, only the strongest gets to the top kind of government. There's always fucking pitfights. Oops.

Philza = Callahan : Largely uninvolved in the events, mostly just there to supervise Wilbur, Tommy and Techno. Duh. Callahan = Philza : Has personal history with Dream, tries to convince him not to do the thing that could hurt everyone else. Minimally succeeds.

Alyssa = Niki : Ready to defend her home and her family. Niki = Alyssa : Neutral, but ready to back Wilbur up if need be.

Sapnap = Bad : Arsonist, goes around and burns shit whenever he wants to. His base is a Nether inspired fortress. Also, he has to deal with a Nether problem in reference to the Red Vine problem from the original SMP. Hotlands? LMFAO Bad = Sapnap : Helps when asked. Started out on Wilbur's side, as a favor, but slowly shifts neutral due to the conflict between factions.

Karl = Skeppy : Gets held hostage? That's what preoccupies Sapnap's time. He suddenly disappeears or gets trapped in a cell. Skeppy = Karl : Runs around doing supply runs. Gets his friends into various stints to try and settle the conflict through friendly rivalry and competition. It doesn't always work.

George = Ranboo : Unlike original Ranboo, George is highly unsympathetic and needs concrete fucking facts before he acts, and that kind of backfires on him in the end. As a favor to Dream (how many favors is Dream involved in honestly) he runs messages back and forth from Tubbo to Tommy. Ranboo = George : Largely uninvolved in the conflict, like Niki, but unlike OG George, is not absent. He's just there to assist. One of the most innocent and purest people on the SMP, knows when to keep his head down. When his house burns down, he doesn't really believe its Tubbo who did it -- he knows the kid has been framed because he'd been WITH him at the time, but Wilbur pressures him to admit it.

Quackity = Punz : Wilbur's loyal paid henchman. Quackity will cause shit for the appropriate price, he's not exceptionally picky. That stunt he did as Mexican Dream was great and everyone in L'Manberg loved it. Punz = Quackity : One of the best fighters under Techno. Has more morals, but keeps them secretly. Very good at hiding his true intentions/feelings.

(sorry about the other characters not being on here, i dont know them enough to make swaps, or dont know who they'd make a good swap with. Swap who you wanna swap though! i'd like to hear your take on this matter! HEADCANONS ACCEPTED TOO AT THIS POINT EVERYTHING HERE IS FROM WHAT I REMEMBER AND MY HEADCANONS)

PLOT

-Wilbur starts the SMP with Niki, slowly invites others like Ranboo, Tommy, and Tubbo.

-Tubbo expresses a desire to Fuck Shit Up and Tommy says they can get Dream, he's an expert at getting away.

-Dream is extremely protective of them both. Tubbo more than Tommy but that's fine because Tommy is largely independent.

-Tubbo gets in the weirdest shit but Tommy can roll with the punches really quickly.

-Wilbur gets tired of their crap and burns down Tubbo's establishment. It's like the Disc Wars except it's the Great Honey War. Bee War? Basically he's tired of Tubbo hogging all the Honey related expenditures.

-Dream gets the idea to make a honey smuggling empire, as a joke, but Tubbo is Big Crime and he's going with it. Tommy just wants chaos, and he was getting bored tbh.

-Eventually the Honey thing turns into Resource management, so Tubbo Dream and Tommy have a hold on all major supplies

-Shit happens and Dream, Tubbo, Tommy, Eret, Sam, Fundy and Alyssa establish an independent nation. Dunno what to call it bc the server is called the L'manberg SMP so....

-The fight for indepencence still happens. Instead of 'Green boy' Wilbur is named 'E-boy'. Dream still says "WE HAVE NO MERCY FOR YOU" when Wil calls for a ceasefire negotiation, but Wilbur does threaten the nation saying  "If there is no white flag by tomorrow, then you can kiss your sorry little arses good bye. That's my final warning."

-Turns out Fundy's been secretly funneling information to Wilbur in exchange for the safety of his friends, and also because Wilbur's his dad....uhm. Also! He and Dream are circling each other and others are like "OH MY GOD YOU GUYS ARE DEAD RINGERS FOR QUEERPLATONIC MATES JUST MARRY ALREADY" bc I like FundyWasTaken but others might not and its okay, we'll label it as platonic, but can be read otherwise depending on your tastes. But for this, it's very close platonic.

-Wilbur goads Tommy into a fight, as brothers do, but Tubbo steps in and Wilbur fucking jumps at the chance.

-This is the start of Dream's descent into madness. No one fucking threatens or pulls one of his friends like that. Denied. It's still subtle though, so he's okay for now.

-Tubbo and Wilbur face off. When Tubbo pulls back bc he genuinely doesn't want to hurt anyone, Wilbur takes the chance and beats him.

-Tubbo, however, makes a deal. Let their nation stand on its own, and he'll give up the Resource Empire he started. Wilbur accepts, with the condition that they unify their alliance with a...marriage? So basically, political marriage between Wilbur's heir, Fundy, and Dream, the leader of the revolution.

-YEAH I WENT THERE THIS IS VALID

-They're strained at first, but Dream and Fundy slowly mend their relationship post-betrayal.

-Fast forward a few months later. The Nation doesn't really have a leader, as per the agreement, but it does have a representative. All decisions are made via majority votes, and that decision is voiced by the rep and sub-rep, Dream and Tubbo respectively. Tommy's just there to have a good time and causes chaos as per usual.

-Enter Technoblade. He's been called in by Wilbur to...ah. Dismantle a little...nation. Sounds right up his alley. But he asks Wilbur to wait and see what happens.

-Tommy and Dream get the idea to hold a tournament to celebrate their independence, an all out brawl for everyone to kick back and relieve stress. There. That's where Techno comes in.

-He gets Punz to join him after like, being paid (ofc) and they fucking dominate the tournament. Dream's about to congratulate them but Techno turns the fuck around and declares his right to rule the nation. If anyone wants to fight him for the title, they're welcome to try.

-Dream loses another life to Techno trying and failing to fight it. He and a few others lost their first life sometime elsewhere? I guess? Probably by being blown up by Wilbur, idk.

-Tubbo and Dream are chased out by people who reluctantly follow Techno's orders, and Tommy, torn between his friends and his brothers, stays behind. Oh jeezus.

-Since Techno is a fighting GOD, no one's able to usurp him to make things turn back to normal. But Dream is smart, and knows Wilbur's 100% behind this. Fundy kind of knew but didn't do shit about it, which is why Dream rejects Fundy's offer of sanctuary. He can't be sure his husband will stay on his side, after all. It's nothing personal.

-Dream and Tubbo hide away somewhere, probably not a ravine but?? A mountain or something? They manage to get Sam away enough to ask him to build a super cool Redstone contraption thing that opens for them. ooooo.

-I'm not good at names but for the sake of jokes I'm gonna call their land the 'Bee's Knees' bc at some point Tubbo finds a fuckton of Hives hanging from Trees. Bee Mountain if Dream's feeling especially salty.

-SPEAKING OF DREAM. his insanity is on course now, it's slowly eating away at him and in fear of hurting Tubbo he's slowly distancing himself away. Tubbo's like what's wrong but Dream can't answer -- he doesn't know what's wrong with himself either.

-Tubbo and Dream need to go back and confront Techno, but they can't wait for long else Techno's going to obliterate everyone and their extra lives. They call Schlatt in.

-Schlatt's a pure business man and draws up a contract. He'll aid them in terms of supplies, but most of the revolution is on them. They agree.

-Tommy is actually really fucking good at lying and skirting around what he reveals to Dream and tubbo as a spy that Techno would have believed him if he didnt' know his brother. and Wilbur's warnings, of course. That results in Techno just being fucking done with Tommy's bullshit and plans his execution in another tournament? I guess?

-It doesn't go like the festival. First of all, Schlatt can't fight for shit, so why would Techno call him up the stage? No, Schlatt fights dirty. techno doesn't set much rules so theres no rule against poisoning Tommy quick and easy before the fight. Tommy loses another life and is on his last. Tubbo is spitting mad, but Schlatt points out that nothing in the contract covered this, so he's free to do as necessary. Tubbo is stopped by Dream who, at this point, is just overtaken by the need to one-up Techno.

-Also, Wilbur's been slowly persuading Dream to just. Let go. Let the monster inside of him free, he 'deserves it'. By the end of it all, Dream does. He snaps and lets loose the monster crying for blood inside him.

-Callahan is left to convince his old friend not to do it. In a moment of clarity, Dream stares on in horror of what he'd done. In his rage he managed to deplete ALL of Techno's lives (not really but shhhh), cause massive bloodshed, and terrified everyone in the process. He asks Callahan to kill him. Callahan does.

-Yes we'll get to Ghost Dream eventually.

-Anyway, Schlatt still does the Wither plan, because, uh, Drunken Rage. He was so stressed out from the ensuing conflict that he's like "LETS JUST FINISH THE REST OF YOU. THERE WILL BE NO CONFLICT IF YOU ARENT THERE TO FIGHT."

-and then he uses the line from the Lego movie on Tubbo like "Oh, Tubbster. It's nothing personal. It's just Business(tm)".

-Schlatt still dies of stroke. He does come back as a ghost though, that's one main difference.

-After everything's said and done, and the dust has settled, everyone decides to disband the nation, and just live their lives. like, they're done, wilbur, they get your point, jfc, let them rest.

-but uhhhh someone frames tubbo for setting fire to ranboo's (the server sweetheart) house. wilbur immediately decides to exile tubbo in 'anger'. acutally, he wants tommy and tubbo separated.

-tommy's not standing for it though, he fucking fights his way until wilbur threatens him and tubbo's like YES FINE OKAY I'LL AGREE TO BEING EXILED STOP THREATENING YOUR BROTHER

-tubbo's exile arc is not as sad as tommy's, but rather very tense because wilbur keeps riling tubbo up and taunting him. he still keeps contact with tommy though because they arent going to be separated just like that. no way. tubbo just gets a little more mad and gets short tempered like a lot.

-ranboo's not even that mad about it, he knows tubbo would never burn his house, there was a conspiracy on board and even if there wasn't he's like "arent yall overreacting its just a house, didnt you all do this like before the first war even began, what even (also, ranboo was WITH tubbo at the time of his house allegedly being set on fire. Not that he'll admit to it, because he and tubbo made that agreement long before)

-eventually he finds out that wilbur just wanted to pin the blame on tubbo to make him leave, and ranboo's like "IM DONE WITH YOUR CRAP WILLBUR STOP HURTING THE PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT" and leaves

-with the nation gone, people started to solidify their groups. sapnap and karl deal with their own thing, quackity still runs errands for wilbur, george is the main person ferrying messages from tubbo to tommy back and forth, etc.

-there's a funeral for dream, ofc, fundy arranged it. all of dream's shit was hidden because fundy doesnt want wilbur to get it.

-niki's still there managing her bakeshop but doubles as an informant for wilbur because she's well liked within the server

-ghost dream is present and he's a chaotic troll who mostly hangs around tommy. he's really hyper active and is always on the move, you can never catch him sitting still for like, 5 minutes

THAT"S ALL I HAVE FOR MY SMP SWAP AU PLEASE BE GENTLE I DONT HAVE TIME TO GET ALL THE FACTS STRAIGHT FROM THE OG SMP qwq

[shepard-ram]

Hello again this is Ender-anon with the next chapter of this story as we move on to Wilbur. p.s the poem will be at the bottom.

The most important day of your life so far.

Everything was chaos, as people rushed back and forth getting everything ready for you coronation the next day, dignitaries from other countrys ariving with gifts, the kichens had to order food from abroad inorder to fully cater the event. You however were nervous for a different reasion between going over the speechs with Enciodes and practicing the holy vows you would undertake tomorrow with the current Saintess Anya Silverash ( Enciodes and Ensia's sister), the Arctic Empires delegates had yet to arrive you knew thanks to Tommys latest letter ( and hadn't that been a surprise learning that you friend was the third prince, but you had assured him that it would change nothing between you he was still Tommy to you) his brother prince Wilbur second in line to the throne would be arriving with them since Tommy father had said that Tommy couldn't go. Which is why when the Arctic Empire arrived (with so many gifts Tommy really had gone overboard you though) without the prince saying that he had gone on ahead of the main group a wave of panic sweeped through those in attendance. The wilds were dangerous for outsiders at night the beasts of the land wouldn't attack your citizens ( ancient magic prevented them from doing so a spell cast by an allie of your venerated ancestor) but a lone prince was a different deal. Jumping into action you asked the nobility in attendance the Silverash,Rostova,Schwire and Nearl to search their grounds as they were the few nobles with manors outside to capital and on the way to get your winter coat discretely ordered a hidden member of the Armourless Union to imform the three Obsidians that finding the prince was their new hightest priority and to sent everyone Platinum, the two Lapis Lazuil and to track what woodlands hadn't been searched yet. Rushing out of the capital, lanturn in hand rushed into the nearby woods, woods that you had explored as far back as you could remember, woods you knew like the back of your hand as such when you heard the wolves howling in the distance you knew the quickest route to take after all those seconds could be the difference between finding the prince or finding a corpse.

Leaping over a ridge you found yourself between a terrified Wilbur and a pack of 5 wolves both pausing with your entrance. Wilbur snaped out it first yelling " Kid get out of here, I can distract the wolves RUN" you instead turn towards the wolves and told them to leave as they do you grab the stuperfied princes hand and lead him back towards the capital where you hand him off to his countrys dignitaries while you returned to the palace to get some sleep ready for your coronation tommorow. You looked at your reflection now dressed in your ceremonial outfit based on you ancestors outfit minus the black helmet of course looking over at your soon to be ex-regent Enciodes who looked at you with pride in his eyes, after gathering your nerves you follow him knights flanking you to the second biggest building in the capital after the palace, the temple to the Karlan Goddess. Kneeling before Anya at the goddesses alter you swore to protect your people, your nation and to uphold you nations values rising after Anya placed neatherite crown upon your head. Turning to look at those in attendance you saw Enciodes with tears in his eyes, Buldrokkas'tee with his daughter Yelena holding her up so she could see and curiously prince Wilbur looking at you with a weird look in his eyes that was a strange combination of pity and longing all while clutching a piece of paper close to his chest. During the after coronation celebrations you did manage to start a conversation with him by talking about Tommy of all thinks but he was what you two had in common you both cared about him a great deal before you left you handed him a letter to give to Tommy once he got back to the empire, he staired at it for a moment before handing over the piece of paper you saw him holding earlier you looked at it to see a poem on it "Its my gift to you, as thanks for saving me" he proclaimed after reading it you saw the themes of close bonds and friendship ( at least thats how it looked to you) and as such you thanked him for such a thoughtful poem giving him a hug " I must admit I can most certainly see why my baby brother is so attached to you" and with that he turned and left with the other delegates back to the Arctic Empire.

The most important encounter of his life

Wilbur was pretty sure even before meeting this ruler that he would hate them even though he hadn't met them yet. Why you may ask? First they charm his precious baby brother into letting them call him Tommy something that he only allowed family to do but he wouldn't stop carrying that doll dressed in black claiming that it was a gift from you, then whenever post would arive he would all but tear the poor messenger apart just on the chance you sent him a letter he remembered after he sent the letter informing you of his status he was sure that that would end this farce and he would have his adorable little brothers attention again but nooo you sent a letter telling him that it didn't matter Tommy was still your friend and that reguardless of his title he you wouldn't treat him any differently and to your credit you didn't. But thats nothing compared to what he's currently going through no since Tommy is to young he has to be the representative of the royal family to your coronation (despite Tommy throwing the biggest tantrum he had ever seen), so now he's walking along a poorly constructed road with a the other delegates with the mountain of gifts that his brother has bought you using every coin he had. Tired and just completely done with this day he told the others that he would be walking on ahead and they would meet back up at the palace, that was the plan at least he thinks to himself as he runs before he had strayed from the dirt path and stumbled upon a wolf pack that was now chasing him so his day has gotten even worse great. As he hits a dead end he turns to face the wolves looking around for a way to clime up the ridge above him as the wolves closed in, only for a kid in a winter coat holding a lanturn to jump down inbetween him and the wolves startling them both thankfully he snaped out of it first and yelled at you to run he wasn't about let a kid only a few years older than his baby brother get torn apart by these wolves but instead of fleeing you gave him a reassuring smile before turning to the wolves " He is no enemy of our nation, leave now" you commaned and to his surprise they obeyed his mind going blank trying to process what he just witnessed as you lead him out of the woods. It wasn't till he was in his room in the newly built embassy that he realised he never learned his saviors name after interrorgating the delegates he learns to his suprise that his savior was the person that took his place in his brothers heart.

Maybe he misjudged you he thinks as he spends the time before your cononation collecting information about you pretending that he was merely a curious tourist and when he returned to get dressed into his formal wear he thought about what he had learned, the most dishearting information was how alone you were you had no surviving family no cousins,no siblings and no parents but you still found reasions to smile, to try you best to be the ruler you nation would need despite the fact that said nation in his humble opinion was undeserving.How he had missjudge you so much, of course his brother would try and give you family that you never had he couldn't even think of a world without his little brother, his twin or his dad but you had to endure a world where that was the norm for you, and now he though bitterly this nation would be your burden to carry alone without family to turn to for help. He of course need to thank you and in his own way apologize for his incorrect image of you, he didn't bring his guitar so a poem would have to do, perhaps he could put an offer of family in it so you knew that you wouldn't be alone, yes that sounded good. As he stood with the others of importance during you coronation he couldn't help but think how small you looked in that all black outfit dispite knowing you were older that Tommy in this moment you didn't look it to him as you made vows that in the eyes of your nation, in the eyes of your goddess would forever bind you to a nation undeserving of you, a nation that had caused you to grow up alone surrounded by advisers and (if his brothers rants were anything to go by) a schemeing regent. He truly pitied you and wanted to take you away from this back to the empire where you could be a child for once not be forced to be a ruler, Tommy would be happy if he wisked you away and he realised as they placed a neatherite crown on your head he wouldn't mind having being your big brother. To his surprise you can over to talk to him during the after party, as the subject of conersation shifted to Tommy he saw your eyes light up as you trades stories back and forth acting less like royals from different countrys and more like siblings talking about their younger brother. Its only when you press a quickly written letter into his hands and asked for him to hand it to Tommy that he remembered his poem as such he handed the poem over to you and exsplaned that it was a thank you gift for rescuing him (and for him being so wrong about you) he searched your face as you read seeing if you got his hidden message before you thanked him for it and gave him a hug , hun he could in this moment certainly see why his baby brother was so attached to them oh if the look on your face was anything to go by he just said that aloud time to leave he thinks.On the plane ride home he can't help but read the letter you wrote for his baby brother only for his eyes to widen as you ask Tommy whats its like having a big brother like Wilbur or what its like having a big brother in general but a infuriated look fills his face as you say you think your starting to see Enciodas ( the scheming regent his brain supplied )and his sisters as your big siblings as your family,oh that seals it he thinks he is going to be big brother and save you from you misguided loyaltys at least he count on Tommy to help rescue their future sibling from themself.

Wilburs poem

It's hard to put into words, what I want to say.

But I want you to know your thought of, in a very special way.

Though the distance in between us, keeps us continents apart.

There will always be a place, for our bond within my heart.

Poems are strange arn't they, two people could read the same poem but come away with comletely different ideas as to what it means... Ender-anon

Okay I might stop talking all together on this entire FICS but this- yes absolutely very good

[perriwinklesblog]

Hi. This is my ending having watched that stream. Have fun with it.

Dream has been defeated, he no longer had any power here. People were celebrating, they felt free for the first time in months. Technoblade had perished too so there was no need to fear more chaos. It was loud but it was also quiet.

Tubbo sat on the roof of someone’s house in L’Manburg. The sun was starting to set. More damage had been done in the fights against Dream and Technoblade. He hadn’t wanted to fight. He’d never wanted a fight.

Quackity stares up at Tubbo. He had one last traitor on his list. One last person who’d undermineded things. One last person he, at one point, thought of as a friend, as a new beginning. But that had been false. A false prophet of new beginnings, a false leader. He takes a step forward but someone stands in his way.

Tommy doesn’t look behind. He does not need to see their judgement. This isn’t between them. This is between Tommy and Tubbo.

He makes his way to Tubbo, neither acknowledge each other at first but then Tubbo turns his head slightly. “I only wanted peace, Tommy.”

“Tubbo.” And he can’t look at Tubbo. He can’t look at the person who betrayed him. He doesn’t want to be this person again. He doesn’t want to go through this again.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Tommy. I never wanted this. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry” Tubbo repeats it over and over again, tears streaming down his face. He looks up at Tommy.

“I know., Tubbo. I know.” He can’t stop his own tears as he embraces his friend, his brother. He’s lost so many, he just want to hold onto him for a little longer. “I forgive you Tubbo.”

And he stabs him. Holding him as he falls, clutching onto him. He immediately regrets it but something inTubbos eyes calms him.

“It’s ok. It’s peaceful Tommy. I just wanted the peace”

Even after Tubbo is gone, Tommy holds him. He doesn’t let go as others join him on the roof. There is no celebration for the death. There is no joy in this. A friend is gone. His brother is gone. Tommy is alone.

***

Hours after his death, in the dead of night, Tommy picks up some things. He leaves a book behind simply titled, The Heroic Adventures of Tubbo and Tommy. He silently walks around the remnants of a land he’d helped create, that he helped destroy. Tommy reaches the edge of the town, a ghostly figure hovers there.

“Where are you going Tommy?” Ghostbur posits, his head tilting to the side slightly. Most would think he’s oblivious but Tommy sees a flash behind the eyes. “He could come back like I did. We could all be together again!”

“I’m just going for a walk Wilbur.” Tommy’s voice cracks and he spins slightly as if trying to distract from it.

“When will you be back?” Ghostbur says this knowing the answer. He may have lost most of his memories but he still feels he knows Tommy. He knows what he’s doing.

“Soon.”

Wilbur watches as Tommy wanders off into the wilderness. He swears he sees a ghostly figure next to the boy but he’s not sure. He turns and continues to build quietly.

It’s peaceful.

[nettlestonenell]

Armie Hammer wants a sequel to The Man From U.N.C.L.E.—shouldn’t you?

This post is a long time in coming, Gentle Readers and @jammeke​, but now, though it might be here, before your very eyes, to think it will be well-laid out would be a mistake. It’s set to be just about as messy as Ilya’s misplaced loyalties and murky motivations.

How dare!

I probably first watched this film well over a year ago (courtesy @jammeke​ posting things about it). I used Sling OnDemand (I think on TNT). In the ensuing viewings I also watched it in that way, but as I was sitting down for a fourth(?) viewing, it kept coming to me that I was tired of watching it with commercials I couldn’t skip, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it had been edited for time and I was missing out on scenes. [pointless aside: I was also watching the film in chunks, and never as a whole]

Where is she now? What’s the time stamp? How far along did she get? Are you shagging the hotel hostess yet?

So, I, uh, set out to buy it on DVD—without any luck! In the sense that copies I could find cost more (w/ shipping) than buying it to stream. So, I bought it to stream on Amazon. Do I regret my choice, Gentle Readers? No, no I don’t. I do regret burden of knowledge in learning that TNT was already playing the entirety of the film. That was a hard pill to swallow.

Nope, I’ve looked. That’s absolutely everything. Nothing additional lurking around here...

So here it is, as it is, @jammeke, “My Notes on The Man from U.N.C.L.E.”

Look, I don’t know what this film is. I probably can’t fully articulate its appeal. Or maybe I can--certainly after transcribing four page I’ve tried. Number One thing to know about me and fiction/films is that a top draw for me is seeing something out of the ordinary, such as beautiful locations, a historical era, delicious costumes. There are times, frankly, this can trump weak story and undefined character for me. (The best films, of course, combine all three) Certainly, The Man... delivers in the delight of the eyes. Additionally, I must confess that growing up as a person older than @reblogginhood​ but younger than Miss Fisher, so much of what was on TV was essentially reruns of this film’s iconic Look(tm). So, when I see women dressed like Gaby I am just another three-to-seven-year-old overcome with the drop dead glamour of it all.

Darling, tell me how you really feel...

Some questions I have:

·         IS Armie Hammer a hulk of a man? Everyone in this film seems to think so, yet he always tracks to me as trim (rather than hulking)

·         Why translate via captions some Russian speaking, but not all?

·         IS Napoleon’s backstory directly cribbed from USA’s White Collar?

·         DOES Gaby have a German accent?

·         Does Ilya get preternaturally attached to all the people he’s ordered to look after? Also, what is his bonding rate with kittens?

Sorry, wrong iteration. 

 ·         If Lady Villain knows the lens is wrong—if her technical understanding is that in-depth--does she really need Gaby’s dad to make the bomb?

·         How old was Gaby during the war?

·         What happens when Ilya gets a NEW puppy assigned to him? (please let this be addressed in film #2)

Hooray for:

·         That bathroom fight! *all the Burn Notice feels!

·         Gaby is her own lady, and chooses sides as necessary—not always unilateral in her support for either male character. Case in point: she sides with Ilya over the clothes, and Napoleon over the incident of the wallet.

·         That delicious (speaking as Rusty, here) Ocean’s 11-stylized action. It’s pretty, so I’m not bored with it. Sometimes a sandwiched montage gets shown, so I’m REALLY not bored. I’ve got 18 tiny moving boxes of things to look at!

·         Pinkie rings. There, you’ve told me everything I need to know about that character.

·         Solo in a beret. English has not yet found a word for the feeling it evoked in this viewer. Somewhere between ‘precious’ and ‘oh, no’.

See, there? Now you’ve felt it too.

·         Goggles! All the accessories! Dune Buggies! (I mean, that’s what I’m calling Napoleon’s chase-scene ride)

Things I adore:

·         It seems (after some research) that more than a few folks view Gaby as a third wheel, and though she’s not exactly a Princess Leia commandeering her own rescue and exuding competence and a deserved take-charge-attitude at every corner, she IS a foci for both male characters (though romantically it would seem only for one), just as Ilya is a foci for both her and Napoleon [no one seems to worry about Napoleon, though they should--film #2, anyone?]

·         Mechanic Gaby not needing a beauty makeover, or being dragged into one. She gets some nice clothes, but it’s never suggested that she’s not attractive or acceptable before putting them on, and I respect, nay, embrace it.

Oh, my heart. She’s still not as tall as them!

·         Ilya, drab pigeon Ilya, knowing fashion

·         Oh man, don’t even get me started on the power of the statement, “it doesn’t have to match”

·         You knew it was coming on this sublist: the wrestle-fight. I mean, c’mon. Poor little Gaby, locked behind the Iron Curtain, living a life of always being watched. She’s in the swankest hotel (I mean, Napoleon chose it, so we can be sure it’s swank with an E). She’s trying to celebrate her freedom, her liberation. She’s playing verboten music, she’s drinking to excess. Girl wants—and deserves—a party. And Ilya is…not built for that (that he knows of). For some fun, just imagine if she had been given Napoleon to room with instead.

                            o   I will say that this scene, and some of their other interactions have what I would call early (non-sibling) Luke and Leia energy. Ilya seems to have moments of being struck by Gaby in a way Luke is struck by Leia in the early part of the trilogy. When Leia takes charge, and Luke accepts it. When Leia does something incredible, and Luke is left open-mouthed. *no, I don’t see OT Star Wars in everything. Shut up.

·         “He fixed the glitch.”

·         Again, shout-out to the non-action action.

·         “I left my jacket in there.”

·         The whole race to rescue Gaby I am in love with beyond words. [I have noted it as “Crazy Jeep Drive with Warhead!”] Probably b/c it comes across as totally egalitarian. Both men want her rescued. They’re no longer in competition. It’s just as important to Napoleon as it is to Ilya to catch up to her. Also, it is bonkers, like some sort of X-games version of a commercial for the vehicles they’re driving. And screaming Willie Scott does not make an appearance.

         Someone says “winkle” out.

·         Look! Another note about the screen divisions and how I love it, shout-outs to the original Steve McQueen The Thomas Crown Affair (a contemporary of when this movie is meant to be set), and TV’s 24.

Things that get a great, big NOPE:

·         Jerrod Harris: you’ve been in so much streamable content in the last decade I can’t hate you, but frankly, you’re terrible here—unless you’re supposed to be giving a mannered, not-campy-enough-to-be-enjoyable performance here. Your American English puts me in the mind of Alex Hawaii 5-0′Loughlin where it feels you’re concentrating so hard on your accent that you fail to convince anyone that you’re a harried, over-worked and exasperated spy handler. Your performance is at odds with every bit of dialogue you’re given to say.

·         That awful, mishandled title that doesn’t even connect to the film until the final moments (a sequel set-up, for sure)

·         Look, you don’t introduce Hugh Grant casually mid-way through your film in a throwaway appearance. I mean, he’s HUGH GRANT we all know something’s up now.

·         This is not exactly a great big NOPE, b/c I love a flat cap, Tommy Shelby—but I feel like a less tall man with a far rounder face in a flat cap would track more as Russian to me that AH does. To me, he just looks like he’s about to go golfing.

Over par? Unacceptable!

·         Is Victoria a British-accented Italian? A British woman who married—what? Gaby’s uncle isn’t Italian!? An Italian who went to school in Britain? My head hurts. Also, is her hair meant to be unconvincingly bleached?

Other commentary:

·         Napoleon’s adult ne’er-do-well backstory is so far from being emotionally equivalent to Ilya’s childhood trauma [and his enslavement to the USSR] it seems bestial when he calls it out on multiple occasions. Badly done, Solo.

·         Gaby is the film’s key (sorry, Buffy fans). Everyone is connected to her. Yes, she could have been given a bit more on the character front, but I don’t see her as as much of a flaw in the film as some others/reviewers seem to.

·         Look, essentially (and not very nuanced-ly), Ilya is a stalker. I think the film goes a certain distance in establishing that his early behavior toward Gaby is not normal, but concurrently it does not truly call him out on it. He’s essentially viewed as an odd-duck, sure, but not a true threat to her (should she not reciprocate or tolerate his intensity toward her). I think I might be able to cite his behavior when Gaby comes on to him (that he doesn’t jump at a chance with her) that maybe he’s given a little more nuance than a straight-on stalker, and it helps that he and Napoleon never get into a pissing match over Gaby’s person, only over her new clothes. But overall the film has to walk a fine line (and the jury is still out on how successful it is, I’d say) between playing Ilya’s laser-like attention to Gaby for its humor, and calling it out for the unsettling, threatening behavior it is.

·         Honestly, it wasn’t until I engaged the Closed Captioning that I understood Napoleon was calling Ilya the ‘Red Peril’. So, that was nearly three viewings in.

·         I give the screen credits A+, on both ends. Not to mention the end credits are actually INTERESTING with lots to see and learn! (Certainly we learn more about HG in them than we do at any time during the film)

Things I would have liked:

·         More of fish-out-of-the-Iron-Curtain Gaby moments

·         A better dichotomy shown of East vs. West Berlin/Germany. There’s nothing easy either visually or otherwise to distinguish the two.

·         HC being given a more specific American accent (from an actual locality). This, for an American viewer, works better than the flat, unlocated American accent many a British actor will bust out. *Mind you, HC does a generally good job, but he fails utterly on both “Immediate” which he pronounces at least twice as “immeedeejt” [rather than imm-E-deeot] and “Nazi” as “NAHT-zee” [rather than “NOT-zee”]. And let’s not get started on that late in the film use of ‘earnt’, a word that—well, it’s just not in the American English twentieth century lexicon.

·         C’mon. You gotta tease the Hugh Grant more.

·         Solo is a blank before the war. I’ve read thoughts on the film calling out Gaby as the blank character, but they’re wrong. Solo is the blank. He’s the ‘made’ man, his identity seemingly assembled during the war and after. For example, he doesn’t go into the war a thief, nor (it would seem) a particularly educated or urbane individual. Now THAT’s a juicy backstory I’d love to learn about, perhaps in film #2--or #3? What creates a Napoleon Solo? What would he be doing if he weren’t on the government’s leash/incarcerated? Is anyone left caring about him back wherever he calls home? I mean, who doesn’t love a gender-flipped 60s-era Holly Golightly backstory? [And yes, I would love there to be an ex-wife or even a current wife mixed up in his origins as well—Guy Ritchie, call me!]

Notes I have that I’m not sure if they still make sense to me:

·         Only mom calls me Napoleon (do he say it ‘mum’?) Is he a secret Canadian?

·         Solo’s torture, 1st view recall Napoleon’s childhood? *I think this means that after watching the first time I somehow erroneously believed that during the torture Napoleon’s childhood was a topic gone over. This was wrong. HOWEVER, this would have made far more story-sense than the backstory we’re given on an easily disposeable villain.

·         “Even the average Russian agent. You’re special.” ?

·         Uncle is Baddie (*so glad I made this note to myself)

·         Ilya’s dad IS an embarrassment. I’m not sure what genius commentary I had in my mind, here. Perhaps that Ilya himself is embarrassed of him? Not just Ilya’s handler’s? [Also, aside: Napoleon totally slut-shames Ilya’s mom, which is the doublest of double standards from ‘I got myself the biggest and most ornate suite b/c I-wanted-plenty-of-space-for-my-random-seductions’ and I really wish Ilya had thrown that back in his face] *yes, of course I know that Ilya and Napoleon would not likely equate a wife/mother’s sexual exploits with that of Solo’s, but let’s be honest, this film tweaks the nose of (I won’t say reverses, it doesn’t go that far) plenty of tropes and gender expectations, and this certainly seems like a missed opportunity to call Solo on the carpet (which I hope film #2 does far more)

Things I wrote down so long ago I don’t recall what they mean:

·         CC-save

In conclusion:

What does film #2 look like? What title does it get? Will the Peter/Neil White Collar dynamic continue to grow? *note that I have no confidence a second film will ever come to pass...

In the end, all I know is, “It didn't help when American Tom Cruise, who was slated to play U.S. spy Napoleon Solo, dropped out, prompting the casting of Cavill (who had previously read for the Russian role).“ I would not have watched that film.

[randomrichards]

BEST MOVIE MOMENTS OF 2020

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Abe Makes Dinner from ABE

Teen chef protégé Abe (Stranger Thing’s Noah Schnapp) hopes that his dinner blending Israeli and Palestinian dishes will mend a bridge between his Israeli and Palestinian families (as well as his atheist father). But he gets a sad dose of reality when he learns the hard way that a wedge between families can’t always be solved with a meal.

“Wait for It” from HAMILTON

On June 16, 2016, Leslie Odom Jr. surprised many by beating Hamilton star/creator Lin-Manuel Miranda for the Best Actor award at the Tony Awards. And now they understood why thanks to Disney+ presenting the musical. And it all has to do with the song “Wait for It.”

In this soulful musical number, Odom Jr. allows us to understand Aaron Burr’s beliefs in letting fate leads his path. Whether it’s winning the heart of a married woman or watching all his loved ones parish, Burr is willing to wait for destiny to reveal why. It also showcases the contrast between Burr and Hamilton. This song changes Burr from History’s villain to a complicated anti-hero.

10)          Deku and Bakugo go full Super Sayan in MY HERO ACADEMIA: HEROES RISING

My Hero Academia always delivers great action scenes and they truly shine in their latest round in the cinema.

In his final battle to protect young brother and sister Mahoro (Tomoyo Kurosawa in Japanese, Dani Chambers in English) and Katsuma (Yuka Terasaki in Japanese, Maxey Whitehead in English) from ruthless power-stealer Nine (Yoshio Inoue in Japanese, Johnny Yong Bosch in English), underdog hero-in-training Izuku “Deku” Midoriya (Daiki Yamashita in Japanese, Justin Briner in English) transfers his “One-For-All” power to hotheaded classmate Bakugo (Nobuhiko Okamoto in Japanese, Clifford Chapin in English). The result is an image of the in super powered form resembling Super Sayans.

When Deku reaches 100% power, the film suddenly turns white then stretches into abstract imagery.

Honestly, the main reason I put this on the list is because it’s pure awesome and I’m not afraid to admit it.

9)            A Survivor Model from COLLECTIVE

This documentary follows the reporters of Romanian Newspaper Gazeta Sporturilor as their investigation into the Colective Club fire in Bucharest that killed 27 people and left 180 injured exposed vast health care fraud that caused survivors to die in the hospital and would bring down the government. Another key focus is a survivor who was so badly burned she lost most of her fingers. The camera focuses on her as she watches conferences about the fire.

In a standout moment, she models for photo shoots. In this moment, we see a beautiful woman who refuses to allow her disability to stop her, revealing her power.

8)            the Wuhan Flu Song from BORAT SUBSEQUENT MOVIEFILM

Many best scenes of 2020 will focus on the bed scene with Tutar and Rudy Gulianni. But I prefer to focus on the scene where Borat (Sacha Baron Cohen) performs the “Wuhan Flu Song” at a Anti-Masker Rally. Not only is it deliciously cringy and hilarious, but It perfectly captures all of Cohen’s strengths as a comedic performer.

As with Borat’s previous cringy yet catchy “Throw the Jew Down the Well, Cohen uses the Borat persona exposes the ugliest side of America. Watching the Qanon conspiracy theorists cheering on Borat (under the guise of Country Steve) singing about injecting Obama with the Coronavirus horrifies while splitting sides. This moment reveals the dangerous consequences of misinformation and conspiracy theorists on society. Plus, the song is shamelessly catchy as hell.

Add the fact that Cohen was nearly attacked during this scene shows how far he’s willing to go to make a point and get a laugh.

7)            The Dinner Scene from LET HIM GO

This scene is a perfect example of how you put subtext in a scene. On the surface, It’s just Weboy matriarch Blanche (Lesley Manville) serving porkchops to her daughter in law Lorna’s(Kayli Carter) former parent in laws Margaret (Diane Lane) and George Blackledge (Kevin Costner). But with the context of Margaret and George trying to deliver Lorna and their grandson from her abusive husband, you can feel the hostility in the atmosphere.

It’s a credit to the actors and their ability to hide their aggression under a mask of southern hospitality. It’s especially true for Manville, who brings to life a woman who is a master of hiding her cruelty under a pleasant smile. She may sound welcoming to them, but you can tell something’s off about her. No wonder she’s able to manipulate the police into siding with her. Hell, many audience will be surprised when they find out she’s British in real life.

Lane matches her every step of the way with the most nuanced jabs.

It won’t get as much appreciation due to it’s unassuming nature. But it’s a perfect scene to show how to bring nuance to a performance.

6)            The Restaurant Scene from THE INVISIBLE MAN

At first, it seemed Cecilia (Elizabeth Moss) finally has the drop on her sociopathic control freak ex Adrian (Oliver Jackson-Cohen). After days being tormented by him, Cecilia finally has proof of how he turns invisible. Now she goes to a public restaurant to convince her sister Emily (Harriet Dyer). But then a  levitating knife appears out of nowhere and slits Emily’s throat before flying into Cecilia’s hands.

Director Leigh Whannell and cinematographer Stefan Duscio do an excellent job using everyday envirnoments to create a sense of unease. Whenever the camera lingers on a kitchen, you search with anxious eyes for any sign of Adrian. In this case, they use the ambience of a crowded fancy restaurant to create a false sense of security. And yet, you can’t help but wonder if Adrian’s still watching them.

It’s in this scene where title character goes from a good villain to a great villain. Here we see what a cunning monster he truly is. The scene also showcases Moss’s terrific performance as her desperate eyes showcase the complete helplessness she feels in this scenario.

5)            Edna sheds her skin in RELIC

Rarely do the words “horror” and “heartbreaking” go together, but that describes the ending to this underrated gem.

Kay (Emily Mortimer) returns to her family home to care for her mother Edna (Robyn Nevin), who seems to be suffering from dementia. Now she and her daughter Sam (Bella Heathcote) find themselves trapped in the crawlspace while fleeing a warped Edna, who has been warped by a supernatural force. With contorted joints and decaying flesh, she has become monstrous. At first it seems they have defeated Edna and are heading out the door.

Then Kay looks back to see her mother lying on the ground, struggling to breath. This brings the film into a unexpected turn as Kay carries the creature that used to be her mother to bed. When Kay peels the skin off Edna’s body to reveal a charcoal skinned, dying creature, the film goes from creepy to heartbreaing. Anyone who ever lost a loved one to dementia will recognize to devastating feeling of watching them fade away right in front of your eyes.

4)             The one-take action scene in EXTRACTION

Well, we can’t have a best movie moments of 2020 list without mentioning the 10 minute action sequence from Extraction.

As black market mercenary Tyler Rake (Chris Hemsworth) shields the kidnapped son of a drug lord from other mercenaries, his race across a Bangladesh village delivers all you want from an action movie. Fast paced car chase? Check. Semi-automatic gun battles? Check. Hand to hand combat? Check. Parkour across rooftops? You bet. Sometimes you’ll even get people get hit by cars during hand to hand combat. All of this happens while cinematographer Newton Thomas Sigel makes it look like one take.

Sure, sophisticated viewers will recognize there the cuts are hidden. But when director Sam Hargrave is willing to ride on the hood of a car as it races across dirt roads for the sake of a shot, you can’t help but be impressed

3)            Opening Bike Ride from THE CLIMB

The film begins with what sees like a regular bike ride. American Mike (Director and Co-Writer Michael Angelo Covino) and Kyle (Co-Writer Kyle Marvin) are racing across the road of a French mountain before Kyle’s wedding. But then Mike reveals he’s slept with Kyle’s fiancé, resulting in the furious Kyle to chase Mike. Unfortunately, they’re both too exhausted to commit to a long chase.

The whole opening sequence could be its own short film. Covino and cinematographer Zach Kuperstein) shoot it all in one unbroken take, allowing the awkward exchange to flow more naturally. It leads to a hilarious moment when Kyle tries to chase Mike, but neither have the energy to keep going. Plus, it summarizes the reoccuring cycle of the film with Mike becoming increasingly self-destructive and a terrible friend and Kyle being nice until pushed too far.

2)            The Ending from UNCUT GEMS

After spending two hours in a state of panic, it looks like the audience will finally breath a sigh of relief. After locking his pissed off brother in law Arlo (Eric Bogosian) and his goons Phil (Keith William Richards) and Nico (Tommy Kominik) in the Jewelry store with him, smooth talking jeweler and gambling addict Howard Ratner (Adam Sandler) makes the biggest win of his life via pinpoint accurate predictions of a basketball game. Now he has millions of dollars; way more than enough to pay off his debt. Everything’s coming up Howard. That is until the furious Phil puts a bullet in Howard’s head and proceeds to rob his store.

With all his reckless behaviour (including putting his girlfriend at risk) and overconfidence, you knew at somehow Howard was going to be punished. But when the flilm cuts to scenes of Howard’s family celebrating the game and his girlfriend leaves with the money, you can’t help but know how bad they’re going to feel when they find Howard dead.

Then the camera zooms into Howard’s bullet wound to reveal the same colourful kaliedescope imagery as shown within the title uncut gems. With Daniel Lopatin’s enchanting new wave score playing, this moment gives the audience a moment to finally relax before closing with Gigi D’Agostino’s L’amour Toujours.

In spite of (or because of) his flaws; Howard is himself an uncut gem.

1)            The little things inspire Joe from SOUL

Everyone recognizes “The Pixar Moment”; that scene that elevates a Pixar film from great to extraordinary. No one can truly define it, but it’s the one scene from the film everyone talks about. It’s the ten-minute prologue from Up. It’s Anton Ego’s reaction after trying Remy’s dish in Ratatouille. Even a lesser Pixar film can have this moment; a perfect example is when Lighting McQueen allows Ramirez to race in his place in Cars 3. Now we can add another film to the list thanks to Pixar’s latest masterpiece Soul.

After a day of escaping the afterlife and being trapped in the body of a therapy cat, Joe Gardner’s (Jamie Foxx) has finally achieved his dream of being in a Jazz band. And he feels…nothing. So, he heads back to his piano to ponder his direction in life. Then he finds the items 22 (Tina Fey) collected while in his body. What results is a moment fans will be coming back to in their moment of need.

As Joe rests 22’s items in front of his piano and starts playing, he comes to realize how a pizza crust and a seed truly meant to her. In the process, he comes realize the moments that seemed meaningless at first had some magic in them. The joy of playing for his father. The feel of the ocean waves flowing on his feet. The taste of a café’s pie.

In a time when many people can’t do any major activities, this moment serves as a reminder of to appreciate the little things in life. I imagine many audiences will return to this scene in their lowest moments.

[mickmarstookmyheart]

Life's a Sick Joke pt 9

 Pairing: Mick Mars x Reader  

Would like to start from the beginning? You are great! Here is Part 1!                      

Sidenote: As this story is under construction, I would like to warn you that those chapters which don’t have a proper title are written in the main caharcter’s POV!! Be aware!!! Be awaaare! I hope you will enjoy this storyas I did writing it, have a nice day and feel free to leave marks!     

 9. Crazy chick

(Sidenote: I know that Halloween party which MTV threw was in 1985 but let's pretend it was two years earlier. Thanks for your cooperation.)

After the concert and that little fun in the changing Doc told you that we could attend the MTV's Halloween party that night.

"So Cooper, what is your costume for tonight? Princess, witch? Or you could dress up like me. I could give some advice, you know." Tommy asked you while searching for the perfect costume in a shop down Sunset Strip. You were just walking through the isles, not searching for anything exact. You weren't in the mood. Usually, you spent Halloween with your brother and sister, playing games, watching movies, and scare the shit out of neighbors.

"Well, I don't know if I could even attend that party, Lee. It is an official party for big and famous people. And they have their official photographers so yeah...I won't dress up. I will watch you guys from the coach of the hotel room and then watch some horror films." He froze and put his hands on his hips while sending you death glares. He just walked away and finally, there was some silence. You walked over to the makeup section when Tommy came back along with Mick and Vinnie. Nikki didn't come with you, saying he has something important to do. He has been acting strangely lately or maybe it was just you always complicating things.

"Are you out of your mind, (Y/N)? Of course, you are coming with us!! There is no chance that my best friend won't be on our side and not having fun. If you won't go then shall not we!" Vinnie crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"That supposed to be a threat?" You asked giving him a fake laugh.

"I'm not saying this often, babe, but he is right. Come and have a little fun. It will be good for you. Some time-off." Mick stepped closer and cupped your face with his hands while looking deep in your eyes. "Or we won't go and I'm sure they will annoy you for the rest of life why you didn't go to that party." He said.

"Sometimes I am wondering whose side you are on." You raised your eyebrows.

"None. I'm Switzerland." He put his hands up as a defense before pecking your lips.

"That's gross." Vince covered his eyes with one of his hands.

"Hey, they are cute. Guys, I have an idea!" Tommy yelled.

"You have ideas? Wow, don't push yourself too hard." Mick muttered. "What, T-Bone?" You asked.

"You could dress up as Romeo and Juliet!!" He bit his lips waiting eagerly for our reaction. You shared a look with Mick with wide eyes.

"You know, what? That's gross. And yuck. I will rather die than dressing up as Juliet." You said.

"I couldn't agree more," Mick added.

"You are such a buzz to kill." Tommy pouted and walked away continuing looking for a costume. Mick held your hand and placed a kiss on it.

"Then I think I need to hurry up." You mumbled against Mick's lips.

"Do you need help?"

"No. I think I already have an idea." You smirked from the idea.

∆

"That's sick. I love it. Buy it. It will the best. You are a crazy and morbid chick you know that, right?" Vinnie told you after he gazed at your choice of costume.

"Hey, but you can't tell anyone this. I want it as a surprise." You pointed at him while watching yourself in the mirror.

"All right. It will be hard but I will try."

"Vince!" You glared at him and hit him in the arm.

"Ouch! By the way, I'm just teasing you. It's too easy." He grinned at you and left the changing booth.

∆

When you walked down the hall still in your casual clothes, the boys had already been there in their costumes.

"Where is your costume?" Nikki asked in his devil costume when he saw you walking down the stairs.

"Go. I will catch up. Don't look at me like that. I'm coming, don't worry." You put up your hands in defense. You took a look at each of their costumes. Your favorite was Nikki's but Mick looked badass in his, too. "Wanna bite my neck, Mr. Mars?" You smiled and pulled your hair away from your neck. He leaned closer and placed a soft kiss on it.

"Just after the party. If I bit you now then I will be able to stop." He whispered in your ears. You just giggled and then stopped when you see THAT thing in Tommy's hand.

"Tommy! Did I teach you wrong? What is that unholy item with you?" You snapped.

"It's not unholy. The opposite." He looked down the Bible and then at you. He had a devilish smile on his face when he stepped closer.

"Don't come any closer with that. Just if you want me to turn into dust." You stepped back and when he started running you did the same. "See you at the party!" You yelled back at the boys when Tommy tripped over one of the steps and fell over. "Haha. Karma!" You laughed at him and continued your way to your room to dress up and surprise them.

∆

Cameras were clicking and your boys were the object of them. They acted goofy as always. Tommy still had his thing with him. You looked at Vince and tried to recognize his character. You didn't really manage. You recognized that your vampire even had fake blood in the corner of his mouth and on his white shirt as well. You made your way to Doc who was on the other side of the room. Damn. The only problem was that you had to walk in front of the boys so in this case, they could easily recognize you. You quickly beetled behind the photographers and almost arrived at Doc when someone touched your shoulder making you jump a bit.

"Sorry, miss. Can I take some photos of you, please?" A guy asked and immediately did some photos not giving a fuck about your permission. You posed, of course, then most of the photographers turned around to take some photos of you. You blushed and looked at Doc for advice but he just laughed and shook his head.

"See, kiddo. You always steal the show. Moreover, you are creepy for dressing up like that." Doc said. Mick, Vince, and the Terror Twins were in the middle of posing when at least half of the photographers left them there.

"Hey, don't you want to take more photos of us?" Tommy yelled.

"Who the fuck they are taking photos of?" Nikki asked and was on his tiptoes to see something. Vince just tried to hide his smile since he exactly knew the answer.

"Okay boys now that's enough. Thank you, really." You tried to make them understand but they just didn't listen. Now you understood why all the celebrities hide in disguise in the streets.

"Holy SHIT! THAT'S, that's Cooper!!!" Tommy pushed on Nikki. Vince burst into laughing and clenched on Mick's shoulder. Mick was staring at you with wide eyes, Nikki's mouth dropped, also Tommy's. Vince gave a thumb up and patted Mick's back.

"Go, get her vampire." He said to him and pushed Mick in your way. He simply pushed the photographers from the way and stopped in front of you. You smiled at him and open your arms while turning around showing him your dress.

"You are...you are beautiful yet you are crazy. You spent too much time with those teenagers." He said while he put his hand on your waist making faces towards the photographers. You waved to the rest of the boys to come there.

"I can't believe you. How could you dress up as THE FUCKING REAPER after all those bad things?" Nikki eyed your costume when Tommy pushed him away.

"You are a Goddess!!! You are my girl. I will worship you and I will be your slave." He bent the knee and bowed his head. You kicked him a bit to make him stand up again. "You are also a weirdo, damn." Well, they were damn right about that. Being dead, even for a little bit, and dressing up as the Reaper himself was the craziest idea you ever had.

You finally gathered together and let the artists take photos of you. After that, you searched for some booze to start the party. You drank. A lot. You were already a bit dizzy when Nikki came up with the idea to play. Also, Ozzy showed up and played with you. You will spend quite a long time with this crazy guy since the Crüe will be the opener for him in North America for his 'Bark at the Moon' tour.

"Happy Day where all the ghosts throw a party in the graveyards!!!" You yelled lifting a beer bottle in your hand.

"Those are drunken teenagers, not ghosts," Mick muttered.

You played Pass it on ghost story, Candy Corn Relay Race, the Corny Game, and your favorite Deadly Wink! You were usually in a team with Vinnie since he insisted and you were too wasted to reject. The Terror Twins stack together and Ozzy annoyed Mick. Poor him. You almost managed to pick that last fucking apple from the bowl when Tommy yelled meaning they won. You spit the apple from your mouth and clapped.

"Congrats, guys!" You laughed and tripped a little due to the costume and the amount of the alcohol you consumed.

"Someone is a bit tipsy?" Mick caught you just in time and pulled you towards the dance floor. Slightly slow music was on played which was a bit too slow for the party.

"Where are we going, Dracula?" You giggled way too hard. All the guests were dancing and you didn't see any empty places to be, but Mick kept pulling you into the crowd. Well, at least that was what you thought. He opened the door and the chilly air hit you in the head. He walked you behind the house where were just a bunch of teenagers kicking into some fake graves. He took your hand and pulled closer.

"Come and have a dance with me."

You blushed and looked around. "Don't care about anything. Just dance with me." You smiled and started dancing. You were a bit shaking from either the cold and the situation. He still managed to take away your breath with his look. He must've noticed it because he took off his suit and put it in on your back.

"Thanks." You said and placed your head on his chest.

"Thank you for everything." He pulled back and kissed you passionately. The kind of kiss which told you everything. You leaned even closer not leaving a single inch between you and Mick. He groaned into the kiss and put his hand on your back to pull you closer if that was even possible. When you separated neither of you couldn't open your eyes for a moment. You were panting from the kiss.

"I should thank you. You are the reason I feel a little less broken every day. You always make my days brighter with your little and annoying things. Whenever I'm on the stage and I am stressed a bit you are always there which makes me feel better." You felt tears in your eyes and could see in his, too. "Hey don't cry. I'm sorry I didn't mean to." He wiped yours away and brushed his thumb over your cheek. "You will ruin your make up." He chuckled cleaning your face with the sleeve of his shirt.

"It's just...I think hardly anyone told me these kinds of things to me. I'm just happy that I'm important to someone. So it's just happy tears. Don't worry." You sniffed.

"I'm sorry." He took your hand again and started to dance to the music. You felt the warmth of his body, the scent of his perfume and the alcohol, and the touch of his skin. The chilly night and the light of the moon made it even better.

Next chapter

Tags: @cmft-jr-winchester @leatherandheels​ @karrotkate​

[crue-sixx]

The FUNeral

Title: The FUNeral

Fandom: The Dirt (Motley Crue Movie)

Summary: The reader has died, and her funeral is one for the record books.

Warnings: Swearing, dark humor, making a funeral more uplifting (the reader wanted people to have their last memory of her while laughing), cancer death.  If you are sensitive to any of these, please don't read.

It was late October when you had lost your battle with brain cancer, and you'd drawn your last breath.  You were alone, but you wanted it that way.  You didn't want your loved ones to see you in such a state of deterioration.   You had a last meeting with your lawyer to discuss what you'd wanted at your funeral.  When you were finished, he looked at you unsure of himself and asked "Are you sure you want to do this?  It is very unorthodox..." You assured him that it was indeed what you wanted and that you had already arranged his payment on the condition that all your instructions were followed to the letter.

Vince first got the call that you'd passed from your lawyer and given information about the funeral.  "And if you wouldn't mind bringing a beverage of your choice to be opened before the eulogy is given, that would be good..." he coughed.  Vince thought it was strange, but knowing you in life it fit right in.  After getting off the phone with the lawyer, he called Nikki, Tommy and Mick to tell them the news.

They showed up in normal funeral attire, only to be stopped by your younger sister Kathy at the door, who was wearing a pink pantsuit "Where the Hell do you think you're going dressed like THAT?"

They all looked at her, then each other "To Y/N's funeral?" Nikki offered, but she scoffed.

"That damn lawyer didn't tell you about the dress code did he?" she reached around the corner and bought out the brightest, ugliest suits they had ever seen.  Plus they all had floral patterns on them.  The four men couldn't help but giggle.

"Did you guys raid the half price prom section at Walmart?!" Tommy laughed.

"Either you go home and change into something not black or you take these" she offered.  Their houses were at least an hour away so they took the suits and changed in the bathroom.  All the arrangements had been finalized and it just so happened that your funeral fell on Halloween.  That didn't make any difference to you, you had planned what you wanted for your funeral years ago, even before you had been diagnosed with brain cancer.

You had your siblings and funeral home staff put up Halloween decorations, your casket was pumpkin orange and you had been dressed in full clown make-up and costume for your mourners to view you as you lie in state.  Your friends didn't know weather to laugh or cry, so they did both "That stupid heifer" Nikki cackled as he cried.

There was a sign on the inside of the casket lid that read "Squeeze my nose" so Tommy did it.  It make a sound like a honking duck, which sent the whole room into laughter.  When it was time to take  their seats, Kathy got up to give the eulogy.  "Alright, before I start lets take this moment to crack open whatever drinks you bought with you.  If I hear someone opening a can or bottle while I talk about my sister, I'll come down there and knock some skulls" she gave a once over the crowd, who lifted up their beers and soda cans in your honor "One...two...three!"  The sound of hissing filled the air and cracks as beverages were opened.

"My sister was always the weird one" she began "but she always had your back.  If you were kicked out of your house, her couch was always open.  If you needed a sitter, she'd watch those fuckin' kids however long you needed her to.  If you needed a shoulder to cry on, she'd just show up unannounced" Vince had to sniffle at that, you having done just that when his little girl Skylar had died.  You'd let him crash at your place, drink all your booze and drove him to wherever the fuck he wanted to go.  He didn't even call you to tell you she'd passed away, you were just outside the room while the family had absorbed the tragedy that just happened.

"This day is NOT for mourning" you sister had tears well up in her eyes "This day is for celebration.  That's why I made people who wore black change into something more colorful.  Y/N would have wanted it like that" she raised her beer in your direction and said "To Y/N, that her pain has finally ended and she can watch us make damn fools of ourselves!"

Just then, as per your instruction a very nervous funeral director pressed a button on the stereo and "Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead" from The Wizard of Oz blasted through the room, the poor man wringing his hands with anxiety the whole time.  This prompted even more crying laughter.

The whole room cheered and chugged their drinks down in one gulp.  There was to be a luncheon at your house afterward, where you had arranged the most disgusting and unsettling food to be offered.  You knew that nobody would eat it, so you also had regular food.  There was roast duck, the whole body with the head still attached on one end of the table while on the other end was a whole deep fried octopus-both of which still had their eyes.

You wanted to be cremated and your ashes made into jewelry for your closest friends to wear.  These four people being Vince, Nikki, Tommy and Mick.  You had met at a bar almost thirty years ago when a man was giving you unwanted attention.  They were about to step in when the man in question said "You'd be so much prettier if you smiled, baby!"

To this, you bit down on the capsule of fake blood you held in your mouth and flashed him a cherry red Cheshire cat grin.  You had pushed the blood out of your mouth and let it dribble down your face and onto your best Christmas sweater.  The guy looked scared shitless and walked away, all four of them laughing and buying you a round of drinks for a job well done.  

Your regular job was a music box maker; you doing the painstaking task of constructing the box, putting in the sound mechanism, making sure all the gears worked as they should and putting it all together to make a functional music box.  About a year before your diagnosis, you had been working on a surprise for Vince- a box that played Skylar's favorite lullaby when opened.  You tried your best to complete it before you got too sick, but that damn cancer hit you like a hurricane.  So your sister finished it for you.

"Hey Vinny?" Kathy pulled him aside "You know Y/N always had a soft spot for you right?"

"Yeah" he sighed "I was the one who popped her cherry back in the day" you were one of the few girls he actually felt something for, but didn't have the balls to say it to you much less himself.  His great denial took the form of him burying himself in as much snatch as he could to get his mind off you.

"Well she was working on a surprise for you before she got sick" she took the box from her bag and gave it to him, a music box in various shades of pink and in cursive the name "Skylar" written in silver glitter.  His breath caught in his throat, Kathy having to take it from him and turn the key for the music to play.  He opened the lid and the tune "Baby Mine" from Dumbo played, in the very center a small figure of a little angel with blonde hair spun around as if she were dancing.

"I love it" was all he could say, letting tears of sadness and gratitude fall "thank you..."

"Hey, Y/N started it" Kathy was crying too, her remembering that you'd loved that little girl just as much as her biological family did "I just finished up following her plans..." 

A few weeks later, they all got their rings in the mail with the note "So you'll always have a piece of me with you close by..." and on the back it continued "Dumbasses"

[mxliv-oftheendless]

Ruining KISStory: A Filthy, Filthy Story About Benjamin Franklin

So in celebration of surviving my French midterm (my anxiety over it was through the roof for some damn reason), I decided I would post this crazy little thing for y’all! So in like, actual real life, Shane for a while did his own show called Ruining History, which I totally recommend for you guys to actually watch. So this is a spinoff of my KISS Unsolved AU, appropriately named Ruining KISStory (a name I’m super fucking proud of actually XD), in which our resident Queen of the Trolls Paul Stanley gives us his own creative spin on historical events. And yes, it’s going to be just as chaotic as Unsolved lol. Here’s the link to the original episode if you want to watch that first. 

And now, without further ado, enjoy!

Tag list: @cosmicrealmofkissteria​  @ashestoashesvvi​  @kategwidt​  @retronova​

[camera opens on Paul, who is sitting at a panel. A map of the world is hung up behind him. The sound of tuning violins plays in the background]

PAUL: Some people think history is boring. But I think Benjamin Franklin might have been in some weird sex parties!

[intro, then title card. Grand orchestra music plays in the background]

[cuts back to the panel; the shot has been widened so the entire panel is visible. From left to right: Vinnie, Gene, Paul, Eric C., Tommy. Labels showing their names come up on screen]

PAUL: So what do you guys know about Ben Franklin?

VINNIE: … Kites!

ERIC: Ethics?

TOMMY: Oh! He used the kite and a key and discovered electricity!

GENE: Oh yeah, we learned about that in school.

PAUL: Pretty sure every school tells that story.

GENE: He also helped Nicholas Cage find treasure.

PAUL: [gives him a withering look before turning away] Okay. [Tommy laughs]

[screen cuts away to a title card:

CHAPTER I:

THE AMERICAN OVERACHIEVER

screen then cuts to animations as Paul narrates, while inspiring music you would hear in a film set during the American Revolution plays in the background]

PAUL [voiceover]: Born in 1706, Benjamin Franklin is often thought of as the model American citizen. Throughout his life, he was… well, he was a lot of things. Seriously, a lot of things.

[a list of text boxes appears on screen next to a picture of a statue of Benjamin Franklin:

POLITICIAN

AUTHOR

SCIENTIST

CIVIC LEADER

POSTMASTER

MEDIA MOGUL

INVENTOR

DIPLOMAT

I COULD KEEP GOING BUT YOU GET IT]

PAUL [voiceover]: Beyond all that, though, he seems like the kind of guy you wouldn’t mind having a drink with. But, if you did spend some quality time with Ben Franklin, things might get weird.

[cuts back to panel; Vinnie looks intrigued]

VINNIE: By weird, do you mean [waggles his eyebrows] weird or just eccentric-weird?

PAUL: I mean [waggles his eyebrows] weird.

ERIC: [looks a little nervous] Oh no… I really liked Ben Franklin as a kid.

GENE: Well, he’s gonna ruin the history books for ya, Eric.

TOMMY: Oh is that why it’s called Ruining History?

PAUL: Yep!

TOMMY: Nice, I like that.

PAUL: Thank you. [cuts back to animation sequence]

PAUL [voiceover]: In the years during and after America’s fight for independence, Franklin spent much of his time serving as a diplomat in Europe. And it’s a good thing he did. Author Walter Isaacson has argued that America wouldn’t have won the war without Franklin’s excellent diplomacy in France. It wasn’t all politics, though. At the time, Paris was regarded as one of the most cosmopolitan cities at that time in history. And a wave of cultural enlightenment paired with a strong economy gave the upper class the means to… well… [music intensifies] have many crazy, crazy, crazy… crazy nights…

But we’ll get to that in a second! Franklin seemed to find himself right at home in this environment. To give an idea of his bohemian life abroad, here’s a curious morning routine he picked up during his time in France.

GENE: I bet it was, powder on the balls. [Eric laughs]

PAUL: [snickering] Powder the wig, powder the balls.

TOMMY: Powder the balls, get out on the street, and do something! [Vinnie laughs]

PAUL [voiceover]: While writing to a friend of his, Franklin described his habit of taking what he called “air baths.” Quote, “I rise almost every morning and sit in my chamber without any clothes whatever, half an hour or an hour, according to the season, either reading or writing. The practice is not in the least bit painful, but on the contrary, agreeable.”

[cuts to the left side of the panel. Gene looks uncomfortable, while Vinnie just gives a raised eyebrow]

GENE: I don’t know what it was about how people wrote during this time, but describing sexual acts in this kinda language makes it dirtier than it actually is.

PAUL: There’s nothing sexual about this.

VINNIE: There’s no sexuality here, Genie, your mind is just dirty.

TOMMY: Yeah, he’s just sitting around his house naked.

VINNIE: I mean if the hand just happens to fall…

GENE: Vinnie, I can’t believe I’m saying this to you, but guys—we don’t just jerk off on accident!

ERIC: I mean… I have no idea how to respond to that.

PAUL: I think some guys do.

TOMMY: Peter does.

PAUL: [raises an eyebrow at him while they all turn to stare at Tommy] … How do you know that?

ERIC: I could’ve gone my whole life without hearing that. [cuts back to the animation sequence]

PAUL [voiceover]: Franklin’s social calendar in Europe was full of invites to gluttonous but incredibly classy all-night ragers, where his status as an American statesmen made him a pretty interesting guy. The women of France allegedly couldn’t get enough of him. One account describes hundreds of women surrounding him, placing a beautiful wreath upon his head, and lining up to kiss him.

ERIC: That didn’t happen… right?

PAUL: [shrugs] I dunno, it could have happened.

VINNIE: That sounds like something you would do to your old grandpa, though.

[silence. Everyone on the panel turns to stare at Vinnie in confusion]

TOMMY: What?

GENE: So you’re saying, at family gatherings—

VINNIE: No! I’m just saying, that doesn’t seem like something you’d do to someone you wanna get with. Like, would you put a funny hat on them? No. [silence] I’m just saying, you guys!

[cuts back to animation sequence]

PAUL [voiceover]: Ben’s home life was, according to accounts, equally spicy. When famous painter Charles Willson Peale paid Franklin a surprise visit one afternoon, he spied the elderly diplomat with a young woman seated on his lap. [cuts to a sketch showing a man with a woman on his lap] This sketch of his is believed to depict the two. Kinda weird that he would sketch that, but hey.

[cuts to the panel; everyone is looking at their own copies of the sketch]

GENE: She seems to have a pretty good grip on his balls.

TOMMY: That’s a, a vice-like grip there.

VINNIE: They’re still wearing pretty much everything.

ERIC: Did you guys notice their eyes? Their eyes are open and they’re just staring at each other.

PAUL: Yeah, their eyes are pretty striking.

VINNIE: Yeah…

ERIC: They’re kissing, but it’s, it’s a little unnerving. Wonder why the guy would sketch this…

PAUL [voiceover]: Some historians have evaluated Ben Franklin’s habit of charming the elite women of Europe as a strategic ploy, suspecting that he hoped that they would speak favorably of Franklin and his case for American liberty to their policy-making husbands. But many others argue that he was just a vulgar old man. Author Albert Henry Smith wrote that Franklin’s, quote, “animal instincts and passions were strong and rank.”

VINNIE: [looks mildly disgusted] Well that’s descriptive.

GENE: [snickering]: Y’know, good old animal Ben.

PAUL: An animal…

GENE: Hey, hey: I’m an animal.

PAUL: [stares for a second, then smiles] Ah!

GENE: Ah! [high-fives Paul]

ERIC: Wait, if he was born in… when was he born?

PAUL: 1706.

ERIC: If he was born in 1706… then how old was he when all this was happening?

PAUL: He would have been… probably between his late 60s and early 70s.

[Eric’s face looks very shocked, slowly contorting into disgust]

TOMMY: Oh man, he was as old as my grandpa!

GENE: [shrugs] Hey, if it still works… [cuts back to animation sequence]

PAUL [voiceover]: Based on Franklin’s party-animal-rock-star lifestyle, it makes sense that he would be in the same social circles as some of Europe’s more notorious scoundrels; and so he was. So let us now turn our attention to a man whose life would soon intersect with Franklin’s: Sir Francis Dashwood.

VINNIE: [snickering] Very English name. [mock British accent] Sir Francis Dashwood!

[screen cuts away to a title card:

CHAPTER II

THE FANCY ENGLISH SEX MAN

lighthearted music plays]

PAUL [voiceover]: Born in 1708, Sir Francis Dashwood was the only heir of a wealthy merchant. He’s perhaps best summed up by one author’s description: “An enormously rich man with a genius for obscenity.” Dashwood’s primary interests were seemingly set in stone when in his formative years, he embarked on his Grand Tour, a traditional rite of passage during which wealthy young men traveled through Europe on a cultural odyssey. As Dashwood’s tutor put it, he, quote, “fornicated his way across Europe.” In one instance, he even seduced the Empress of Russia while claiming to be Charles the Twelfth of Sweden, a man who was, at that point, dead.

TOMMY: Wait, did she not know Charles the Twelfth was dead?

PAUL: I mean, if she got fooled by this guy, I’m pretty sure she had no idea.

VINNIE: This was the era before email and the Internet, so word traveled pretty slowly. Also, [laughs] I love how his tutor says he pretty much fucked his way across Europe.

GENE: Wonder how he got her to sleep with him…

ERIC: I don’t think we need to know the details, Gene.

GENE: Maybe you don’t.

PAUL [voiceover; tense music plays]: These travels also inspired Dashwood’s fascination with sacred rituals of the past. He wasn’t really a fan of the religious institutions of his day, but he was simultaneously fascinated with Europe’s rich history. So when he wasn’t womanizing, he was sauntering through dusty catacombs lined with mummified corpses, or sitting in old Roman ruins imagining the orgies of the past. So it’s this odd mutual appreciation for debauchery and sacred history that would lead to Dashwood’s crowning achievement and ultimately his friendship with Ben Franklin: the Friars of St. Francis of Wycombe. Or, as it was more popularly known…

[music reaches a climactic peak as the name appears on screen over burning flames. Paul reads the name]

THE HELLFIRE CLUB!

GENE: Oh shit.

VINNIE: That sounds awesome.

PAUL [voiceover]: Dashwood’s Hellfire Club was meant to attract the most depraved and intellectual men of the time. And over the course of its history, its lineup would allegedly include such notable men as the Prime Minister of England, the Lord Mayor of London, several of England’s greatest artists and poets, the Prince of Wales, and possibly, as evidence would strongly suggest, Ben Franklin. See, Dashwood was publicly known to sympathize with the cause of the American rebels, and he had exchanged letters with Franklin many times. Furthermore, Franklin actually visited Dashwood’s estate at West Wycombe for an extended period in July of 1772, and during his stay, there is a record of a club meeting taking place. According to one author, quote, “there seems to be no reason why Franklin should have gone to Wycombe at this special time unless he was a member. Only club members were allowed at Dashwood’s estate during club meetings.” So, keeping in mind Franklin’s likely involvement, let’s look at what he would have encountered during his visits with the Friars of St. Francis of Wycombe.

The members of the club reportedly donned white monk’s robes, and were each allowed to invite along, quote, “a lady of a cheerful, lively disposition, to improve the general hilarity.” These women also dressed up, wearing nun’s robes and masks to avoid an embarrassing run-in with a husband or acquaintance.

GENE: This is some freaky stuff.

VINNIE: [looks enthralled] This is awesome.

TOMMY: Eyes Wide Shut…

PAUL: [nods] Yep.

PAUL [voiceover]: The first location of the Hellfire Club was on the shores of an island in the Thames River. Shrouded in a thick grove of elm trees, the island was the perfect location for the not-monks to spend an evening with their dates away from the prying eyes of the public. It was also ideal because it was home to the crumbling remnants of an old medieval ruin built in 1160 known as Medmenham Abbey. Dashwood actually set about reconstructing the site, but since he had a flair for the dramatic, he asked that it still resemble a creepy old ruin. But he did install a few upgrades:

A series of stained glass windows depicting the club members in, quote, “indecent poses.”

A brilliant pornographic fresco that John Wilkes, who wasn’t known to shy away from vulgarity himself, described as, quote, “unspeakable.”

And an expansive library stocked with classical literature as well as, quote, “the finest collection of pornographic books in Great Britain.”

PAUL: So to help us get more immersed in what went down at a club meeting, I’ve provided for all of you the proper tools.

[everyone looks under the table and takes out boxes. In the boxes are black robes, 1700s-style hats, some with feathers sticking out, and Venetian masquerade masks that are black and a different color. Vinnie has black and gold, Gene has black and red, Paul has black and purple, Eric has black and orange, and Tommy has black and blue]

GENE: [as they’re all putting on their costumes] Man, you really went all out, didn’t you?

PAUL: Oh, just wait.

ERIC: I will say, I do feel more immersed in the experience now.

TOMMY: This is pretty awesome.

PAUL: Okay, now that we’re all dressed up, let’s get into the juicy stuff!

VINNIE: [looks incredibly excited] I can’t wait.

GENE: [laughs] You look so excited.

VINNIE: Because I am. [bangs rhythmically on the table] Get to the juicy stuff, Paulie!

[screen cuts to a title card:

CHAPTER III

THE DEBAUCHERY BEGINS

slow, tense music plays and animations show events as Paul narrates]

PAUL [voiceover]: In the cover of night, the hooded monks and their dates would arrive to the island on a red gondola. Stepping ashore, they were greeted by the far-off drone of the abbey’s organ and the ringing of a ghostly church bell. Outside the abbey, they’d come upon an ominous statue of Harpocrates, the Egyptian god of silence. [a statue of Harpocrates is shown with a finger over his lips, and a voice that sounds like Paul’s whispers “Shhhhhhut the fuck uuuup…”]

Once inside the abbey, Dashwood would pour his guests a special cocktail of brandy and brimstone, and they’d all raise their glasses in a toast to the powers of darkness.

VINNIE: This sounds fucking a-ma-zing! I love theme parties, and this is just, just fucking amazing. I wouldn’t stay for the sex, though.

GENE: You’d just be there for the theme part?

VINNIE: Yeah, I’d do all this, then when they start doin’ it, I’d just duck out.

PAUL: Also, before we continue, I was actually able to, to make this more immersive… [reaches under the table and pulls out a bottle of wine]

VINNIE: Ooooh, nice!

TOMMY: Is it the brandy and brimstone cocktail?

PAUL: [laughs] Heh, no, it’s not, it’s just wine. I also have… [reaches under the table and pulls out five silver ornate goblets] these babies! [passes them out]

ERIC: [looks over his in fascination] Wow, these are awesome! Where’d you get these?

PAUL: [laughs] The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. [Eric laughs]

GENE: Oh yeah, you took Erin there for her birthday a while ago.

PAUL: Yep, and I got these. [they all pour wine into their goblets and raise them in a toast] To Ben Franklin and the Hellfire Club!

PAUL [voiceover]: With the striking of a gong, the monks would move further into the abbey and file into the chapel. Here, it is suspected they practiced a black mass, in which a woman laid naked on the altar and the monks proceeded to drink sacrificial wine from her navel.

ERIC: We’re not doing that, are we?

PAUL: Oh no, we’re not doing that.

ERIC: Okay…

GENE: [laughs] Disappointed, Eric?

ERIC: No, I just—fuck you, man.

TOMMY: Would’ve been interesting.

PAUL [voiceover]: Now I should say, since I know you’re all wondering, it’s generally thought that the members weren’t actual Satanists, despite all these weird rituals. Some members actually found this aspect pretty boring. John Wilkes actually found the rituals so dull, that he once dressed up a baboon as a demon… bear with me… he locked it in a trunk, and he stowed it in the abbey. Then, when the members called upon Lord Satan to appear, Wilkes pulled a string to release the frightened animal. For a moment, the members stared in disbelief…

… And then they lost their minds.

[music grows chaotic as the animation shows the baboon leaping over terrified figures while screams are heard] The terrified baboon leapt onto Lord Sandwich—yes, that Lord Sandwich, the guy who invented the sandwich—causing him to allegedly shout, “Spare me, gracious devil! I never knew that you’d really come or I’d never have invoked thee!”

[cuts back to the panel, all of them laughing]

VINNIE: I love how, even among this weird society, there was that one guy who was like, “This society is dull!”

PAUL: Also, after this happened, the baboon jumped out the window, and they weren’t able to catch it.

GENE: [laughing] That’s hilarious.

ERIC: [laughs and waves] Bye, suckers!

TOMMY: Bye, Felicia!

PAUL [voiceover]: As the alcohol continued to flow, the monks and their guests might share dirty stories, or read from the era’s more popular works of pornographic literature.

PAUL: I’ve provided you all with a piece of pornography. These are all from a piece published in 1740 called, “A Dialogue Between a Married Lady and a Maid.” So without further ado, [gestures to Vinnie for him to begin] Vinnie?

[dramatic piano music plays as Vinnie starts to read, looking like he wants to laugh]

VINNIE: “There is between the thighs, just at the bottom of the belly, a piece of flesh… Underneath, hangs in a bag, or purse, two little balls, pretty hard, and the harder the better. They call them stones, and in them is contained that white thick liquor.” [he wheezes, then bursts out laughing, joined by Tommy]

GENE: “He took hold of that place which distinguishes us from men. At the same time he cried out, ‘O! I have a maid! A virgin to my share!’”

VINNIE: I love that they seemed to not know the exact words. [laughs]

PAUL: Well, it was a different time. They were more prudish, I think.

VINNIE: True. I’ve seen some stuff online that’s pretty vulgar. There’s this one person online who likes pugs that writes some naughty, naughty stuff. [looks at the camera smirking] You know who you are. I see you.

ERIC: Okay, my turn. “His member was stiff and hard as a horn. Just as he had finished…” oh God, why? “… my mother, who had heard me shriek, came into the room.”

TOMMY: “‘What a happy girl you are!’ said she. ‘Pluck off this smock, which I will keep for a relick, since it is stained with thy virgin’s blood.’”

GENE: [to Vinnie] I feel like we got the lesser of the four passages.

VINNIE: I dunno…

ERIC: You did! Mine and Tommy’s were pretty explicit. You just got a playful description of balls!

VINNIE: Hey, that’s pretty tame compared to some of the smut that’s out there today.

GENE: Fifty Shades of Grey? [Paul frowns and glares at Gene as the rest of the panel silently stares at him] … What?

PAUL: How dare you. [Tommy laughs] How dare you bring that crap into my show. [cuts back to the animations]

PAUL [voiceover]: With bellies full of drinks and minds full of smut, guests would start to pair off and retreat to any of the private cells, which were prepared and stocked with the, quote, “proper objects for lascivious activities.”

[cut back to the panel. Eric is slumped over the desk]

PAUL: [looks over in slight amusement] You okay there, Eric?

ERIC: I just… I don’t even want to know what they got up to.

VINNIE: [grinning and trying not to laugh] It seems pretty obvious to me what they got up to.

ERIC: I don’t want to—

VINNIE: [still grinning] They got some of that dirty rhythm.

GENE: [also grinning] They indulged in some sweet pain.

ERIC: Gene, no—

TOMMY: [just assume everyone is grinning widely] They went for a rocket ride.

PAUL: They rocked hard all night.

GENE: Took each other down below.

ERIC: Guys, c’mon—

VINNIE: Got some tough love.

TOMMY: Pulled the triggers of their love guns.

PAUL: Put the X in—

ERIC: STOOOP!

PAUL [voiceover]: After operating in secret for many years, the details of the Hellfire Club at Medmenham Abbey were recounted in a popular novel in 1760. It captivated the public’s imagination, to the point that tourists would line the shores to try and spot the sex monks arriving. But, not wanting to give up his elaborate sex parties, Dashwood bounced back by having an elaborate system of caves dug on his own private property a few miles away from the abbey, and it was here that the monks of the Hellfire Club continued to have their parties in total privacy. This new location, and the fact that it was gated from the public and accessible only to club members, lends further plausibility to Ben Franklin’s participation. As he once wrote in a letter, “The exquisite sense of classical design, charmingly reproduced at West Wycombe, is as evident below the earth as above it.” Author Daniel Mannix argues that Franklin’s letter must be referring to the underground caves, and also adds that, quote, “Franklin would have been shortsighted if he hadn’t joined the club. He was a diplomat trying to help his country, and the club gave him the entrée to some of the most influential men in England.”

But as the guest lists for secret societies are kind of hard to figure out, we will never know for sure if Ben Franklin really did attend the Hellfire Club. But his documented friendship with Dashwood and his time spent at the estate puts it well within the realm of possibility. And, if you’re left wondering if a sex club fits with Franklin’s moral compass, then let’s take one last look at the man’s true character with some passages from an infamous piece penned by Franklin himself titled, “Advice to a Young Man on the Choice of a Mistress.” This is a letter in which Ben Franklin encourages his friend to go after older women. It was written in 1745, a copy of it sits in the Library of Congress, and it’s kind of gross.

PAUL: And here to read us the letter, through the magic of theatre… [he turns and gestures off camera] Mr. Benjamin Franklin!

[the panel applauds and whoops, then they all start laughing as Ace walks in with a chair, dressed in 1700s style clothing with a wig that is long grey hair sewn to a bald patch, but we can still clearly see his real hair underneath. A text box appears on him as he sits down between Paul and Eric:

NOT A LICENSED BEN FRANKLIN IMPERSONATOR]

ACE/BEN: Tis I, Benjamin Franklin! Who by some extraordinary means, has come to a strange future time!

VINNIE: [has a hand over his mouth while he’s laughing] This is amazing.

PAUL: So, Ben, we’ve learned a lot about you and some possible details concerning your personal life.

ACE/BEN: Okay.

PAUL: But we still have a few questions. Guys?

VINNIE: Why did you enjoy the company of older women?

ACE/BEN: [reads from his paper] “Because as they have more knowledge of the world and their minds are better stor’d with observations, their conversation is more improving, and more lastingly agreeable.” Wouldn’t you say?

VINNIE: [shrugs and nods] Yeah, I guess.

GENE: Wasn’t he like, 70 years old when he wrote this later? How is he so young right now?

ACE/BEN: “Because the sin is less—”

PAUL: No, wait—

ERIC: [bursts out laughing]

PAUL: You have to ask him. He’s—He’s an old man.

ACE/BEN: I’m old.

GENE: Ben?

ACE/BEN: Go ahead, son.

GENE: Why do you prefer the company of older women?

ACE/BEN: “Because the sin is less,” my dear boy. “The debauching a virgin may be her ruin, and make her for life unhappy.”

ERIC: Huh.

GENE: Deep.

TOMMY: Do you have any more reasons?

ACE/BEN: Uh, yeah. [takes out another sheet of paper while Tommy and Eric silently laugh] “Because in every animal that walks upright, the deficiency of the fluids that fill the muscles appears first in the highest part. The face first grows lank and wrinkled; [cut to the left side: Gene is doubled over silently laughing while Vinnie is listening thoughtfully] then the neck; then the breast and arms; the lower parts continuing to the last as plump as ever. So that covering all above with a basket, and regarding only what is below the girdle, it is impossible of two women to know an old from a young one.”

PAUL: So… you’re saying, when you put a basket over their heads…

ACE/BEN: Yeah. I don’t know. [panel bursts out laughing]

VINNIE: You don’t know?! You wrote it!

ACE/BEN: History will tell. History will tell.

PAUL: I, uh, I think history has told. Do you have any final thoughts?

VINNIE: It was a different time, maybe stuff happened that you couldn’t do nowadays.

TOMMY: He got pretty freaky.

ERIC: I mean, it would be a pretty cool movie, but I wouldn’t really want to hang out with him.

PAUL [voiceover]: Well, there you have it, people! Ben Franklin; a surprisingly multi-faceted individual. History: it’s never that boring if you know where to look. That’s been Ruining History. Thanks for learning with us!

[quarterfromcanon]

2019 Fic Writing Roundup

I was tagged by my lovely friend @catty-words.

Total 2019 Word Count: 58,159

Total 2019 Hits: Asdfghjkl; Oh gosh, it’s much harder to tell when the work is only on Tumblr!  I’ll tally up the notes from there to get the closest approximation I can. It looks like there are 174 total (a mix of likes and comments) on the pieces that I posted from this past year.

Other 2019 AO3 Stats: N/A, although I did finally join AO3 *this* year, so next time around there’ll actually be things to put here! :)

Total 2018 Word Count: Published? None. I think I might have tried writing a little bit of something for myself somewhere in there, but I didn’t get back to any kind of public fandom writing until 2019.

Total 2018 Hits: None. What a difference a year can make! I look forward to comparing 2019 to whatever’s yet to come in 2020!

Other 2018 AO3 Stats: N/A

links and titles to 2019 works

Oooh, this is actually a good opportunity to list them chronologically rather than in publication sequence. Let me see if I can get them sorted. (If, however, you’d prefer to read them in the order that they were published, you can click here and simply open the installments in reverse, since Tumblr displays things oldest-to-newest.) All of the following were written for the Crazy Ex-Girlfriend fandom and feature Heather x Valencia as their central pairing.

1. Barrier  [1,385 words] - Following where we last saw them in 1.09, Josh and his friends continue their beach day now sans Rebecca’s presence. Consequently, Valencia’s critical eye falls on the only other woman in their company - Heather.

2. Unexpected [3,003 words] - The conclusion of 1.18 leaves Valencia with a lot of emotional baggage to unpack. As one of West Covina’s most frequented locales, Home Base is the first place that springs to mind where she might chase away her sorrows (or perhaps just air them out verbally while all other involved parties are away at Jayma’s wedding). Heather finds herself pulled into comfort and commiseration despite her efforts to avoid involvement.

3. Lost Control and Tumbled Overboard Gladly [3,265 words] - Heather goes to her parents’ home for the first holiday visit since moving out on her own. She has her new friend Valencia in tow. Sincere conversation and the rare allowance of vulnerability break down Heather’s walls with an ease that takes her by surprise.

4. Such Sweet Nothing [1,362 words] - Valencia and Heather return to V’s apartment after their Labor Day afternoon of story-swapping and quality time together. Valencia revels in the joyful acquirement of the second gal pal of her adult life. Heather contends with the dawning realization that her interest in Valencia may not be purely for friendship.

5. There’s A Reason Not to Want This (But I Forgot) [2,418 words] - Internet sleuthing with Rebecca pulls Valencia right back into a Josh fixation spiral. Heather must also face some unresolved feelings: namely, a crush now so intense it can no longer be denied.

6. Habits [3,599 words] - The desire to protect Valencia’s heart overrides the instinct to shield her own, and so Heather ends the self-imposed avoidance of her company. She arrives on V’s doorstep with a helpful cover story and some unfortunate news that needs to be broken gently.

7. I Want Not to Want Anything [1,314 words] - Heather Davis gets Santa Ana Winded.

8. Breathless [3,673 words] - A talk with Heather about Rebecca’s impending marriage to Josh leads Valencia to reassess what matters to her. A rosé-fueled jaunt to a local green space gives rise to the persistent inkling that what - or rather who - she really wants may be a lot closer to her than she’s ready to admit.

9. No One’s Really Got It Figured Out Just Yet [3,289 words] - Valencia throws the bachelorette party for Rebecca. Gurl Group antics and H+V flirting tactics set to hits from the mid ’90s and 2000s ensue. 

10. Evading [2,207 words] - In the wake of events from 3.05 and 3.06, Heather and Valencia have a much needed heart-to-heart. They put some important truths into words while treading lightly around a few unspoken facts so delicate they’re best left in the margins.

11. How Long Do You Plan to Keep Me at the Back of Your Mind? [2,442 words] - An evening welcoming Valencia’s girlfriend Beth to be an honorary member of the Gurl Group doesn’t go quite as smoothly as planned when Heather has a difficult time harnessing her lingering feelings.

12. You and Me, Always Between the Lines [1,828 words] - Now that she has spoken with all of her immediate family members and closest friends, Valencia is prepared to announce her first romantic relationship with a woman on social media. In Beth’s absence, she seeks the moral support of her best friend. Heather is readily by her side for this next big step in Valencia’s coming out journey.

13. Gradation [2,503 words] - Valencia’s time with Beth is at an end and, in her hour of heartbreak, she returns to the same place for comfort as the previous occasion when she found herself suddenly single: across the bar from Heather.

14. Rough Draft [2,625 words] - Valencia and Heather FINALLY get together. Valencia experiences her own “Oh My God, I Think I Like You” freak out.

15. Strategy [1,212 words] - Heather and Valencia have a stay-at-home date night featuring deliberately cringey pick up lines and tangled limbs on a couch in the dark.

16. Verity [3,834 words] - Heather temporarily resumes her role as Valencia’s assistant coordinator when they plan a vow renewal celebration for Paula and Scott. On this night, the recently remarried couple may not be the only two pouring out their hearts in a room full of loved ones...

17. Different and the Same [1,035 words] - Valencia and Heather just moved into their own place. They spend their first morning there together and make good use of the privacy and freedom this new residence affords.

18. Finishing Touches [1,157 words] - Heather and Valencia personalize the interior of their new living space. The situation soon devolves into paint-splattered hijinks.

19. Patterns in the Light [1,058 words] - Despite the fact that they are literally cohabitating and have professed their feelings for each other, Valencia remains a clumsily flirty nerd and I love her for it. Heather does, too.

20. Sage [1,324 words] - After being trapped in a car with someone she didn’t want to be trapped in a car with, Heather returns covered in a dead woman’s ashes. Valencia’s time as a ghost-beleaguered home energy cleanser has arrived at last. She is uniquely qualified to save the day.

21. Portage [1,707 words] - Heather has plans for a couple’s trip with Valencia. The only obstacle is keeping it a secret between the two of them.

22. The Courage and the Strength I Need [1,957 words] - Valencia struggles during Heather’s business trip because it is their first time apart since becoming a couple. They FaceTime to ease the pain of distance and talk about their future.

23. Wanna Be With You All Alone [1,237 words] - Heather comes back from the aforementioned work travel to find that Valencia has made special welcome home arrangements.

24. Midnight, Fright and Candlelight [1,426 words] - A quiet evening is interrupted by a power outage. Heather and Valencia find a surprisingly wholesome and G-rated way to pass the time. 

25. Next to You [1,550 words] - The big yearly Davis Family Reunion quickly approaches. Valencia prepares to accompany Heather to this event and be introduced to many members of her extended family.

26. Warm Whispers [1,683 words] - Heather and Valencia just want to be all cute and domestic and spend the morning fooling around. Their cats disrupt these pursuits in typical feline fashion.

27. “When We’re Together, Darling, Every Night Is Halloween.” [1,228 words] - Heather and Valencia get ready to attend a Gurl Group Halloween party. Their second annual couple’s costume? Gomez and Morticia Addams. 

28. #afewofmyfavoritethings [2,838 words] - Nathaniel, Rebecca, Valencia, Heather, Paula, Scott, and Tommy all rent a cabin for vacation. This piece follows them through a day of wintertime fun. Pure fluffiness here and I had the best time writing every second of it.

Favorite Fic: Probably #afewofmyfavoritethings. I packed it with elements I personally love and moments I was hoping my new friends in the fandom would like. Plus, it was honestly just so good for my soul to write these characters in a soft world where they could engage in classic snow day activities and enjoy each other’s company.

Hardest Fic: I knew there were a few installments of Femslash February where I wrote whole paragraphs or even pages I didn’t keep/decided to revise, but I was pretty sure I also remembered at least one where I wrote an entire separate piece. My sleep schedule was, shall we say, not advisable during February but it was also easily the most exhilarating month of my year. I tracked down the evidence of that rewrite and it turns out the incident I recalled was for Unusual Kiss (the prompt for Day 4 of FF). The original involved something to do with butterfly kisses because, evidently, my inclination to link Valencia to winged beings knows no bounds. I’ve got to admit that I’m still fond of the concept of Valencia giving Heather a subtle “kiss” during a hug in that painfully frightening time before Beth when she was afraid to outright kiss a woman in any way that couldn’t be dismissed as platonic. There’s a good chance an interaction of that nature could appear somewhere in the full story. I am notoriously drawn to that angst period of undisclosed pining so the temptation is quite strong. Still, I’m glad I used the version I actually posted and saved elements of the first draft for later. Fragments of their conversation from the original will probably make it into the final tale, but I think I prefer to sprinkle them across several exchanges instead of divulging them all at once.

Do You Plan to Take Prompts in 2020? Sort of yes and sort of no. I am participating in the Crazy Ex-Girlfriend Valentine Exchange, which involves a prompt-esque note from the participant each of us were assigned as our guide to spark inspiration for the gift. It’s also possible that there’ll be some writing prompt list posted somewhere along the way just like Femslash February was last year, and I’ll end up wanting to join the fun. Other than that, though, I’ll mainly stick to the one writing project in an effort to hone my focus.

What was the best thing about 2019? I’d definitely say the bonding and interactions with other members of the fandom. The encouragement and support I received from them remains the primary motivation for me to keep writing and chasing after the ongoing goals I set for myself.

What was the worst thing about 2019? The most honest answer that my mind immediately supplied is death of a close relative. While that isn’t the sole reason for the dip in my creative output (especially since there were multiple months between my last published fic and the passing in question), I know it could certainly be counted among the contributing factors to an overarching writing problem I had. Even before my family’s loss, there was a shift in my thought process that only got worse once there was more on my plate in my personal life. There were many times I sat down wanting to write again but it felt too difficult and intimidating to commit words to the page. I couldn’t seem to transfer them from my mind to the keyboard and I’d invariably switch to doing something else. I developed this terrible internal conviction that insisted the larger fic I wanted to write wouldn’t work as well as the shorter installments. That gnawing insecurity would have me believe one month’s worth of well-received efforts was already such a marvel that anything beyond that point was somehow pushing my luck. Where did the mental voice originate and why couldn’t I shake it? It’s difficult to parse out but what I do know is that I’ve firmly decided 2020 is going to be a year I put it on silent. I know what it’ll mean to me for everything that’s been floating in my head to finally be told in one cohesive format, and to have the satisfaction of giving my favorite characters the ending my heart says they deserve. It’s a sense of closure that’s worth the pursuit.

Any last thoughts for 2019? The bad parts of the last twelve months made me want to essentially say “good riddance” to the year, but the good parts were far too treasured to wish all of 2019 away. I am so grateful for the new people I met and friendships that solidified during that time. I especially owe my most heartfelt appreciation to @catty-words, @notbang, and @monaiargancoconutsoy. Thank you for everything. <3

Goals for 2020

Finish. The. Fic.

I believe everyone I know who writes fanfic has already been tagged but, if you haven’t gotten the chance to look back over your writing year, by all means, use these questions to give it a go! :)

[tommyparkerr]

Jet Lag | Tom Holland x Reader

This was just a little something I wrote when I got home from Europe. You can probably guess what this is going to be about and how it correlated to the whole Europe thing from the title, but oh well! Hope you enjoy!

Words: 3.0k

Warnings: Fluff. Lots and lots of fluff.

-Masterlist-

J E T  L A G:

You had everything planned out. And so far everything was on track and running on schedule; even your flights didn’t have any delays, which was unusual. Everything was perfect.

Too perfect.

You should’ve known it was too good to last, especially with your luck. Because the one thing you hadn’t taken into account was what the jet lag would do to you atop your exhaustion from finals week. You should’ve known you’d crash at one point, and since you’d never been able to sleep on planes, well...you had to sleep somewhere.

You had a surprise for Tom. He’d been away filming for a couple months now and considering that the crew was set up in Europe this time, you hadn’t been able to see each other. You did have a degree to acquire after all, so skipping classes, study sessions, and tests was not an option.

You called each other almost everyday, only a couple times forgetting about the time difference and calling when it was three o’clock in the morning the other’s time. Not that either of you minded once you knew who it was, but it still made you feel guilty.

Luckily for you, Harrison, Jacob, and Zendaya were with Tom. You had mentioned your plan to visit Tom on his birthday to Haz once and all of them immediately volunteered to help. It would go as so: Z would buy your plane ticket (she refused it any other way), you’d fly in at around eight o’clock am their time, Harrison would be waiting to pick you up, he would get you into Tom’s temporary apartment where you’d hide until he got done working (which would conveniently be soon after you were situated), and Jacob would be the messenger.

Tom had no idea that any of this was going on. To his knowledge, he had to work part of the day on his birthday even though the crew felt bad about it and his friends were going to explore the city during takes. He didn’t mind, really. Besides, he would be done early enough that he’d still have most of the day to himself. At least, this was what Harrison had relayed to you. But just in case he suspected anything, you decided to call him before you boarded your plane where you’d be faced with a ten hour flight into the next day. The day.

“Y/N!” Tom exclaimed happily as he picked up the phone.

“Hey, Tommy,” you said with smile. “Have they worked you too hard yet?”

You could feel his shrug through the phone. “I’m not sure if I know the term.”

You had to laugh at that. “I’m pretty sure that running on only four hours of sleep five days in a row is the exact definition.”

“How’d you figure that out?” he asked sheepishly. You closed your eyes, getting antsy at the sound of his voice; you’d waited so long to see him that now that you were this close it couldn’t get here fast enough.

“Harrison, of course,” you answered. “How else would I keep constant tabs on you?”

Tom chuckled, letting out a yawn. “Sleep will be nice when I get my few days off, and I’ve only got one more day before that time comes.”

“Slacker,” you teased. Tom was the opposite of a slacker—that was common sense to anyone who’d paid even the slightest attention to his name—which was why you often played around with the word when teasing him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively, but you could sense the smile in his voice. “How’d finals go, darling? I know you studied for forever so you better have aced them.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re only bitter because I’ve been busy studying during our calls. But, just so you know, I did ace them. Well, not like ace ace them—I’m pretty sure that’s impossible—but ace them as in a solid A or B.”

“Good job, love! I’m proud of you,” Tom said admiringly. “Even though sometimes I wanted to reach through the phone and rip those books away, I’m proud of you.”

You flushed and bit your lip to contain the wide grin threatening to overtake your face. “Thank you. I know I say that a lot, but I really do appreciate it.” You paused for a second, wondering if it’d be too obvious if you brought up his birthday now. “So, Tommy, do you feel twenty-two yet?”

“I don’t even feel twenty,” he laughed. You smiled at the sound.

“Well that’s slightly problematic,” you said, “considering you turn the big two-two tomorrow. Speaking of, do you have any plans to celebrate in a way other than sleeping?”

“Damn,” he said, faking guilt. “You caught me.”

“Really, though,” you insisted, needing to know just how much he knew. Hopefully none, as you’d been led to believe. “Any plans with anyone?”

Tom sighed. “I think Haz and Jacob want to go to a pub later tomorrow and I know for sure Z wants the four of us to hang out, but it just doesn’t feel right.”

“Why not?” You frowned, worried he may be hinting to some hidden crack in his friendships that he hadn’t mentioned before.

“Because of the obvious,” he said, pouting. “You won’t be there with us. With me.”

Despite the blatant sorrow coming from Tom, a small smile graced your lips. So he didn’t know.

“I know,” you sighed, trying your best to sound disappointed. “I wish I could be there, Tom, I really do. But with finals and the cost of the plane ticket and everything-“

Tom was quick to reassure you. “It’s not your fault you can’t be here, darling. We’re both busy people. This was bound to happen at some point. But we can always celebrate later, yeah?”

He really didn’t have a clue. Sure, Tom was an amazing actor, but even he couldn’t be that good.

You discreetly giggled into your shirtsleeve. “Yeah, okay. We’ll celebrate as soon as you get back then?”

“As soon as I get back,” Tom promised.

You looked up just in time to see the gate begin to open up and you knew you had to hang up before they announced the boarding call.

“Hey, Tom, I’m really sorry but-“

“You have to go, don't you?” he sighed. “It’s okay, love. I should probably get some sleep anyways considering I have to be up in two hours.”

“Only two hours, Tom?” you said concerned. “You need to get more sleep than that.”

“I’ll be fine, Y/N,” he laughed. “You get some sleep too, okay? It’s...what, ten o’clock over there?”

“Exactly ten,” you confirmed, standing up and lugging your carry-on into the line. “I love you, Tom. Go to sleep, okay?”

“I’ll get some sleep, don’t you worry,” Tom chuckled. “Love you too, darling. Sweet dreams.”

“You too.”

And so with a giant smile plastered onto your face and adrenaline running high, you boarded your plane.

XxX

The lines were long. Extremely long. Boring, smelly, hot, and long.

You hadn’t slept a wink on the plane and losing an entire night of sleep was starting to catch up with you. You landed at eight o’clock almost exactly, only a few minutes late. You’d texted Harrison and Jacob to let them know you landed and also texted Zendaya to thank her for the (unexpected) first class seating, but it hadn’t quite hit you yet that you were in a different country—a country that Tom happened to be in, too.

When you finally got to the front of the line of customs, you could barely stand due to the heaviness dripping through your veins. The adrenaline had vanished about halfway through the line and exhaustion replaced it, weighing you down with every step you took. They asked you a few questions, studied your passport for a bit, typed something into their computer. All in all it probably only took ten minutes, but it had felt like an hour.

Your small suitcase and purse like dead weight beside you, you were suddenly really glad you decided not to bring that extra bag you’d thought about packing. It was so much easier—and lighter—this way.

It was a little past nine o’clock by the time you were through the airport, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Harrison waiting for you. “Hey Haz,” you greeted with a smile. He grinned and grabbed your things from you before wrapping you in a hug.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you, Y/N,” Haz muttered. “Tom’s been constantly whining about missing you; it’s getting quite annoying.”

“So that’s why you all offered to help! Because you wanted to get rid of Tom.” You gasped dramatically as you walked. “You’re using me!”

He shrugged, his grin changing into a small smirk. “I mean…”

“You’re such a brat!” you exclaimed, punching his arm. You were starting to wake up again—something you were very thankful for. You swore you would have fallen asleep had you gotten a taxi, as not having anyone to talk to really didn’t help with the whole ‘I’m so tired I could drop’ thing.

Harrison chuckled, bringing you into another one-armed hug. “I guess your boyfriend is rubbing off on me. It really is good to see you, though, Y/N/N.”

“Good to see you too, Haz,” you smiled.

You kept conversation throughout the trip to Tom’s apartment, the only pause being the call from Harrison to Jacob telling him that he had you and to pass the message on.

“I’m surprised you packed so light,” Harrison praised you as he walked up the few flights of stairs with your suitcase. You’d taken claim to your purse, conscious enough to at least carry that.

“I almost didn’t,” you admitted. “But I’m really glad I did now.”

“Why now? I’m the one who’s carrying it,” Haz pointed out, gesturing to the bag in his hand.

You laughed and answered, “Well, I may need your help again someday and I really don’t want you to refuse just because of one bad experience.”

“Smart girl,” he teased, stopping at the correct floor and swiping a card. The key flashed green and he opened the door, rolling your luggage inside.

“He gets an entire floor to himself?” You said in awe, setting your purse on the ground.

“Marvel isn’t exactly broke, you know,” Harrison jabbed.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, excuse me for having one moment of awe.”

Haz grinned, hiding your suitcase in the bedroom and gesturing for you to put your purse there too. “We better start setting up, huh?”

“Right,” you said, slipping off your shoes and placing them next your small pile of belongings. You clapped your hands together a few times before grabbing the second bag Haz was carrying and opening it up to find the cake you’d gotten on the way here, twenty-two candles, and a lighter. Nothing big, nothing grand. Just something small for you and Tom to celebrate with.

You and Haz quickly set the cake out on the counter with the candles inserted and the lighter beside it, pulled out your birthday card for Tom and placed it alongside the other items, and put your gift on top.

“Tom’s done for the day,” Haz relayed as he read off his phone. “He’ll be here in about thirty minutes.”

“Great!” you said with a smile. “Thank you so much, Haz.”

“No, thank you for taking Tom off our hands,” Harrison grinned.

You playfully shoved him toward the door. “Get out of here before he sees you and you won’t have a problem.”

He held his hands up in surrender as he walked backwards out the door. “Have fun, Y/N/N! Feel free not to bother me!”

“Goodbye, Haz,” you laughed as you shut the door. You walked back to the bedroom to start putting your stuff in an empty drawer you’d spotted earlier and finished quickly, stuffing your now empty suitcase into the closet and grabbing a book out of your purse to read while you waited. Feeling a bit nostalgic, you slipped one of Tom’s sweatshirts on and let your hair out of your braid, the soft waves tickling your neck; you knew Tom liked your hair best when it was down. You launched yourself onto the bed, sighing when you felt the soft mattress swallow you in its comfort.

Little did you know that mattress and book would be your ultimate downfall.

XxX

God, Tom was tired. He’d assured you he would be fine with only two hours of sleep, but he was so sluggish today he knew that was a lie. An unintentional one, but still a lie. He suspected that everyone else knew it too, as filming today was cut off quite abruptly. It almost seemed like they were filming just to kill time, as there were only a few takes and none of them felt that serious, which didn’t make sense because you never just ‘killed time’ during the making of a movie. But Tom didn’t think too hard on it. He was afraid if he did his head would start hurting and then he’d be left with a migraine to accompany his tired legs and heavy limbs.

He trudged up the stairs to his flat, fumbling with his wallet for a moment while he grabbed the key. He unlocked it quickly and stepped inside, taking off his shoes and jacket and walking over to the counter to empty his pockets out on.

But the counter was already cluttered.

Tom smiled as he saw the cake and unlit candles, the birthday card and small wrapped gift. He moved to pick up the card first, reading it and opening it to find that it was from you. He pulled out his phone and texted Harrison with a smirk, now knowing what his friend was out doing while ‘running errands’.

Just running a few errands, eh?

Tom waited for his response and laughed when he got the almost immediate reply.

I had no choice in which ‘errands’ to run. Your girlfriend would have killed me if I’d chosen groceries over her.

He decided to let the conversation be and dialed your number, wanting to talk to you before he inevitably crashed. But something took him by surprise when it started to ring:

He could hear your ringtone.

Tom furrowed his brows and crept towards the sound, stopping in front of his bedroom door and slowly pushing it open. His stomach did a flip and his heart stuttered at the shocking sight, his phone wobbling and in danger of falling out of his hand.

There you laid on his bed, a book falling out of your hand and landing on the sweatshirt you borrowed from him. There you were, in his room, after not seeing you for two months’ time and counting down the days until he could. And, he saw with a small grin, you were asleep.

Tom spied your phone on the bed beside you and declined his own call to prevent anymore rings. As much as he wanted to see your beautiful eyes and hear your voice without a phone muffling the sound of it, he knew you were exhausted from school and work and didn’t want to wake you up. Whereas Tom at least got two hours of sleep in the past twenty-four hours, he doubted you slept at all.

Carefully he took the book and placed it on the night table, making sure to mark the page you were on with the Spider-Man bookmark he’d given you a few months back. He slipped his arms around you and lifted you just enough to get the covers out from underneath.

After turning the lights off, stripping himself of his shirt, and taking your socks off (since he knew you absolutely hated sleeping with them on), Tom crawled into bed beside you. The dip of the mattress along with the flood of extra warmth was enough to pull you from sleep, and your eyes slowly blinked open. It took a minute to recognize the arms around you and the chest you were pressed up against, but once you did you groaned.

“Love?” Tom whispered, testing the waters.

“No,” you whined, your mind still murky. “I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep.”

He laughed and curiously asked, “What were you supposed to do?”

“Surprise you,” you mumbled, snuggling closer to him.

He kissed your head, slipping his fingers under your shirt to touch the warm skin beneath. “Trust me darling, I was surprised.”

You sleepily traced your fingers up his front and smiled as you felt him shiver. It was comforting to know that even after two years you still affected Tom like that. You rested your hand over his heart, letting the familiar, steady thumping assure you of his presence. Tom was here—you were here. You were in the same city, the same home, the same room, the same bed.

“Tom?” you whispered.

Tom opened his eyes and blinked a few times, his eyes slowly coming into focus. “Yeah?” he eventually said in the low sleep-ridden voice you loved.

You pressed on the mattress as you lifted yourself up to kiss him. You both smiled into it; it had been too long. “Happy birthday,” you murmured, brushing a troublesome curl from his forehead. Tom grinned and tightened his hold on you, rolling onto his back and causing you to sprawl on top of him. You giggled and kissed the corner of his mouth before settling back down. “I love you, you dork.”

He buried his face in your hair and pressed a kiss to your jaw. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

And with your head on Tom’s shoulder and his lips just barely brushing your temple, you both fell asleep faster than you had in months.

XxX

Permanent Tag: @lemirabitur @my-meant-to-find-blog @jongindeepbreath @tomspideyweb @farfromjustordinary @tomsstarlight @delicately-written​

[everyonesawhoregrace]

Not Yet (Thomas Shelby Imagine)

In the wake of the newest book that landed in your hands, thanks to Ada, you indulge every evening in the thick novel. It surrounds the idea of mother and fatherhood, unity, and the idea of parenthood.

Thomas and you were nervous beyond belief, both of you coming from families who weren’t particularly the best.

You lay in bed, belly full as Thomas rests his head on the side of your stomach. You read in your head, as Thomas attempts to communicate with your unborn child.

You had just finished explaining to him that talking to the baby will promote, tranquility and calmness between the baby and father.

The book stated that if the father and mother talk to the baby enough, you two sound be able to hear the baby say something back. It was a psychological thing, one that Tommy rolled his eyes at. But he knew it meant the world to you, so he played along. Needless to say you were big on spirituality and energy.

“I promise I’ll take care of you.” He vows, his voice a low hum. “Even when you piss uz off, ‘ey? I’ll still take care of yous.” He looks up at you, your heart nearly skips a beat. “But I swear, little one, if you piss off your mum, I’ll cut ya-“

And just like that, the precious moment is ripped from your grasp. “Thomas-“

“I will.” He promises, kissing your belly.

“The baby needs good energy, not threats”

Thomas doesn’t bat an eye. “He’s warm and happy inside you. He’s good; trust me, I know the feeling.”

You press your lips together, cocking an eyebrow at your annoying ridiculous and emotionally deranged husband. “The baby needs his father to be nice.”

Thomas looks down at your bare belly, “Is that what he tells you?” He asks, moving his gaze back up to you. “Well tell him he came too early.”

You roll your eyes. The news of you being pregnant didn’t come with the good energy you read about, but rather that. Thomas lost his mind, in sadness that you had fallen pregnant not even after a year of being married. He wanted to spend some more time with you, and you agreed, but a baby was a blessing. Not a curse.

It took much time for Thomas to adjust. And once he did, you had been notified about his fears. Thomas was traumatized by his fathers behaviour, and had this odd idea that someday, somehow, he would morph into the monster that was Arthur Shelby Sr.

It hurt you to hear him explain to you that he’ll be an awful dad. Pained you to know that he is fearful of taking the title of this baby’s dad.

You chew on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say to help him. But anything you say calmed down Tommy, so, running a hand through his silky brown hair do you sigh.

“I was reading about the birth of the baby,”

He rests his head on your belly again. His ear on the side of your stomach as he stares up at you. He’s trying to get to know the baby, understanding that your hormonal and cherish this book with all of your heart. He’s trying, just for you.

“And what did it say?” He whispers, studying you and your beauty.

Your glowing, which is something Thomas will always cherish about the baby. He’s given you a radiant glow. One that makes Thomas crave you at all times. He’s always felt such a way about you, but even as he lays his head on your stomach, with bits of cookie crumbs on your neck and collarbone, do you look undeniably sexy.

You reach for your book. “It basically says,” you begin, and squint your eyes, flipping through the pages. “Ah, here.” You stop and narrow your gaze. “Skin to skin between mother, and father and baby is extremely important.”

“I’ll hold ‘im.” Thomas retorts. “I’ll hold him all the time, y/n.”

“No.” You pout. “Not like just holding him, that’s easy. No, this means skin to skin the moment the baby-“ you flush. “Exits me?”

Without thinking, Thomas laughs, sitting up and shaking his head. “I’ll be at Garrison celebrating-“

“No, you’ll be by my side.” You tell him, instructingly. “The first few hours of the babies birth is most important, Tom.”

“Are you mad?” His face twists. “I love you, so much. But I will not be in the delivery room, with you.”

Going back to the book, you point at a random line. “Missing your sons birth will be detrimental to his health and well being!”

“For fuck sakes!” He yells, running a hand over his face. “I saw a bit of my neighbour Margret’s birth when I was a kid, y/n. The blood, the fucking blood!” Thomas already feels queasy. He swallows hard. “I can’t-“

You sniffle right before your eyes well up. The thought of him missing your birth makes you get extremely emotional. It’s something you never expected to feel, after all, you’re a strong independent woman. You learned after years of not having friends or proper family, to hold in your emotions, and never come off as weak or vulnerable. But bloody hell, the son you carry holds all of your emotions in a basket filled with holes. You’re a pregnant ball of emotions.

Even the slightest things trigger you: dead animals you’ve been fed for dinner. The thought of your childhood. Thomas leaving you for work. The little booties Aunt Pol bought for the baby had you belting cries all night long. And the worst of them all, music. You can cry and cry and cry to the sound of music. Or laugh the night away. It really just depends on your crooked moods.

“Fuckin’ hell-“ Thomas moans, wrapping his arms around you. He’s going to kill Ada for bringing you this book.

“I just-“ Yo gasp, in full hysterics. “I know-The boy-Isn’t. I know you’re not happy about us-“ You continue to gasp for air. “I know you don’t want the-Baby but, Thomas-“ Again you gasp, latching onto him. “I know, you’re scared. I-I’m scared too!”

“Shhhhhhh.” Thomas squeezes his eyes shut, wishing you’d just calm down. But the last time he asked to calm down, you threw a frying pan at his head, luckily he ducked. “I’m sorry, love.” He whispers before kissing the side of your neck. “I’m insensitive at times.”

Thomas takes a line from right out of Arthur and John’s handbook of getting out of sticky situations with the wife.

He kisses the side of your neck again before pulling back to wipe away your damp face. “Don’t cry love. I’ll be there-“

You’re still catching your breath. “You-“ Gasp. “-Will?”

“Yea, I mean. Yes. O-of course I will.” He kisses your tears away. “I’ll be there. Whatever it takes, I’ll make sure I’m here for the delivery of our boy.” He presses his hand over your belly and smiles sweetly at you.

“Promise?” You breathe.

He nods. “I promise.”

2 Weeks Later

You’re in the kitchen, preparing dinner for you Tommy, singing softly as the baby does summersaults in your tummy. You feel a pain unlike any other before water trickles down your legs. Inhaling sharply, you look down at the little puddle of water before blinking rapidly.

“Holy hell.” You whisper, before looking around frantically. You turn off the stove and swallow. A maid, a maid, yes, you need a maid. So, waddling from the kitchen to the common room with your slightly wet clothes do you grab the attention of a maid.

“Oh!” She gasps, twisting her face at you. “You didn’t pee yourself, did you, Mrs. Shelby?”

“No, Mary,” A question you’d normally get offended by seems to overjoy you. This pregnancy has been quite eventful, even giggles make you piss yourself. The baby sits on your bladder so you really have no choice. But you didn’t even laugh, so this must be your water breaking.

It was a wave of pain that made you groan loudly, you clutches the bottom of your belly feeling a hymn of pressure. Squeezing your eyes shut, do you feel yourself begin to push. Your body naturally reacts, an it tells you the baby wants out. Now.

Your eyes sprawl open. “Thomas!” You cry, “He isn’t here! No, no, no, no, no, no!”

Of course, he had to go away on some Peaky business to London. Said he’d be back to tonight, but it’s only half past four, which means there are hours between now and then.

Looking at your belly, do you see a deep red fluid now running down your inner thighs. Oh God. “No, no,” You whisper to the baby. “No yet little one.” Another wave comes your and brace yourself.

It was all unexpected. You were a week early, and tommy and you agreed that he’d take the week of your due date off. This was not the fucking plan!

“I think the baby wants to come out-“ The maid is quick to your aid, clutching you by your arms and pulling you to the couches. You wanted to delivery on your bed, but your knees buckle and the thought of climbing up the stairs make you feel faint. The other maids make their way to you, and everyone gets ready for your delivery.

“Thomas-“ You whisper, Polly and Ada had found their way into your home.

Polly grabs your hand, as Ada continues to wet the top of your head with a damp cloth. “He’ll be here, anytime love. Focus on the baby, he’s on his way-“

“Fuck-“ you roll your eyes back, looking at the females who pry open your legs, ready to get the baby out once you push. You turn your head to the only Shelby sister. The woman who has allowed you into the family home, like a sister. “Ada-“

“You’ll be fine, the baby’s in good health.”

“Where’s Thomas?”

“Love,” the midwife says to you. “The baby’s head is nearly out, you’ll have to push.”

“No.” You stir, staring at Ada. “I’m so scared.”

“Don’t be scared!” She cries, kissing your forehead. “Don’t be scared.”

“What if I’m a horrible mum?” You ask. “What if the baby-“

“Shhhhhh. You won’t be-“

“Love,” the midwife says right before you reach another contraction.

Letting out a cry, you squeeze Polly’s hand and push through the contraction, breathing through the pain. You feel your head begin to get clouded. Your eyes water as you silently pray that the baby will you love and your flaws.

“Y/N?!” His voice booms into your ears, his shoes hit the hardwood floor as he approaches you the scene that is in the living room. “Oh, Christ.”

Thomas enters the room to see you sprawled out. Bloodied and nearly naked. He feels like he’ll be sick, but as his eyes trickle up does he see you in your beauty and entirety. His eyes instantly well up, as Polly moves to the side and Thomas takes your hand.

“I made it.” He kisses your cheek, forehead, eyelids, lips. “I made it.”

“You made it.” You whisper back. “I feel so scared, Thomas....”

He hushes you by pressing his lips against yours. Thomas rubs his nose against yours.

“I heard him too, last night before I left.” Thomas’s blue eyes study yours. “He said you’ll be the best mother and that he can’t wait to see you.”

You sniffle, staring at him.

“Love, it’s time to push-“ the midwife is soft.

“Alright, you hear that, y/n, time to get the little one out.” Thomas whispers in your ear. “Be brave.”

And you push. And push. And push.

When the baby comes, you feel so faint and exhausted. Thomas is overjoyed, to the moon with happiness. He takes off his shirt and the baby is put on his chest, the cries stop almost instantly. Your eyes roll back, you can feel your heart slowing. You did it. You had your baby.

“Look love,” Thomas whispers, a tear rolls down his cheek. “He’s so beautiful. Just like you.”

You feel your lips tilt up in a smile. Seeing Thomas holding his son, with such a stunning smile on his face makes your heart swell up. He looks absolutely beautiful. A man with so much integrity and power holds his son with so much care. It’s a sight you don’t want to let go of.

“The baby’s hungry,” The midwife says, cautiously looking at Thomas. Everyone’s always been afraid of him.

Everyone except you.

His eyes, that are the colour of the ocean well up, Thomas is in an infatuation with his first son. He nods, mentally telling himself to give the boy over to his mum.

“You ready?” Thomas asks, another tear falling from his eye.

“Mmmhmm. Give him here,” You murmur, and again, the second the baby is taken off Tommy’s chest he cries again. Only to stop once he’s on your chest. The midwife positions the baby on your nipple and he begins to suck. They all watch in awe, and Thomas steals a kiss from you.

“You did it.” He says, kissing you again. “I love you so much.”

🤧☹️😢😭😱🤭😢🙁😫 I’m not sobbing at all. You’re sobbing.

[peakyxshelby]

Forbidden Flame

SO I finally decided to make a finish to a little series I started MONTHS ago. In Fact it was the first imagine I wrote with more than one part so if everyone could check it out i would very much appreciate it. Thank you to @i-am-a-lost-girl16 for inspiring me to write this part and i hope you enjoy!

Isaiah Jesus x reader (Shelby Sibling)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Eighteen years old. You were married off at only eighteen years old. You were just a kid, in fact you still feel like just a kid now and you’re it’s nearly your 24th birthday. The drive back to Birmingham was going to be a long and lonely journey. You decided not to travel back with your family even though they were also attending your late husband's funeral. You needed this time to think.

You got married on september 10th, to a man you later learned to love, James. You packed up and moved down to London and lived with him and his brother Alfie at first, but later moved into a place of your own. It was difficult at first, you hated not being near your family, hated not being able to know what was going on. But you soon became heavily involved in Alfie’s business, which was handy for Tommy. You knew you were loyal to the Solomons but you would always put your brothers before the rest of them. You helped out on both the legal and illegitimate side of the business just like at home. You were extremely dependant on your visits from your cousin Michael once a month, if he didn’t come you’d be easily distracted and irritable. Everytime he was down you would try to hold your tongue, to not ask about him but it was too difficult, you couldn't help it.

“How is he, Michael? Be honest,” you sigh, annoyed at yourself for giving in again and asking about him.

“It’s been six months (Y,N), he’s finally getting over it. Kind of anyway,” Michael leans back in his chair as he speaks to you. “He’s met a girl, she’s nice to him I guess but he doesn’t look at her the way he looked at  you.” Your heart sunk to the bottom of your stomach as any words you tried to spout out got caught in your throat. Michael saw you struggling so interrupted your pathetic reaction. “You’re married now, you seem happy with james. You need to let him be happy too. It’s time to forget about Isaiah because let’s be honest that dream is dead.”

“Michael!” you scold shocked at his abruptness, this was something you and him had in common, you were both very much straight to the point.

“Well…” he said trying to hide his smirk.

“I guess you’re right,” you take a deep breath. It was still a dream though, he was always in your dreams.

Eventually you stopped asking, Isaiah rarely ever visited your dreams and if he did you would wake up hot and panicked. But it was OK because whenever you woke up from what you described as a “nightmare” James would always be there to stroke your hair and hold you in his arms, reminding you who you really loved. Eventually Isaiah Jesus was just a name you’d here in passing when you came home for family dinners. It hurt a little, not knowing what if, but your wound had healed, only leaving a small scar.

A year ago you gave birth to your first baby, a girl, Ivy-Jane Solomons. My god was this baby girl beautiful, the most perfect thing you had ever seen in your life. She looked exactly like her Uncle Arthur and was very much a daddy’s girl from the get-go. She had Tommy and your eyes though. Even though you were still young, you felt your life was complete, you were content with every detail of your life. A man you loved and who loved you with a perfect daughter.

Your six year wedding anniversary was just fifteen days away when James was shot, in a blink of an eye he was just… gone. Your entire world was changed in a matter of minutes. How were you meant to go on without a husband? How were you going to take care of Ivy-Jane without her father? Between james’ death and his funeral his brother alfie had made sure you and Ivy-Jane were well set up for life, you could live comfortably for a very long time without needing to work. He asked you to stay with the company but said he understood if i couldn’t, if i needed to go home. And before then I hadn’t even thought about going back. A lot was different now back home. Not everyone lived in watery lane anymore, my brothers had big country houses and Pol lived in a fancy house just on the outside of small heath. The business was in the centre of the place, with offices lots and lots of offices. You hadn’t thought about going back there because last time you lived there, there was no space to move or breathe. But there was now. And that’s when you decided you were going home. You rung up Arthur two days ago begging him if you could come and stay with him until you could find your own place. And of course he was more than happy to take you both in. he loved you still but he loved his niece even more.

And that brought you to now, minutes away from small heath riding in this car by yourself. Linda had taken Ivy-Jane and was going to put her down to sleep with your nephew so you could have some time to yourself. As the car pulled up outside a familiar street you thanked the driver and crawled out. You were wildly overdressed for the streets of small heath but honestly, the shelby’s always were. You wandered down the streets giving yourself time to take it all in. you had missed this, you had missed home. You finally made it to the front of the garrison, a small smile crept up onto your lips as you reminisced about all the times you’d spent in here. You hadn’t been here in about six years though. As you pushed the door open you immediately caught Harry’s eye.

“Mrs Solomons! I haven’t even seen you to celebrate that title! Oh i mean, miss, i… i am so sorry for your loss,” he starts to mumble as he remembers the tragedy.

“It’s Ok Harry!” you laugh easing the tension.

“Usual?” he asks smiling at you as he starts pouring a whiskey into a glass.

“Make it two.” You look around taking it all back in. soon you had Finn and Michael on either side of you knocking back whiskeys too.

“Well, it’s been a lifetime since the three of us were sat at this bar,” you sigh thinking about all the years that have flown past.

“It’s not been as wild since you left,” Finn laughed, teasing you like when you were kids pushing your arm slightly.

“Well isn’t that the understatement of the year!” Michael joined in joking around with the two of us. You laughed with them until you caught site of the door. The exact place Isaiah proposed six years ago. The boys had noticed your change of reaction and Finn ordered you another drink while Michael started to speak.

“He’s over there you know.”

“What?” you say snapping out of your day dream to realise that the garrison was bloody packed.

“Isaiah, he’s in that booth at the back.” you spun round on your chair so quick you almost went flying to the floor. Michael used both his hands to balance you slightly as your eyes adjusted. And there he was, staring right back at you. Your breathing became so heavy as you saw him nervously look around the room.

“Go talk to him,” Michael pushed a little but not hard enough that he’d loosen his grip on you.

“No, don’t be silly. Was a little crush when we were just kids he probably barely remembers who i am,” you fake a laugh downing the rest of your drink as you spun back around to face away from him.

“Now, we both know that one's a lie,” Michael sighed.

“Do you have any cigarettes?” you ask him knowing fine well he did. He pulled one out and gave you the lighter.

“I need some air,” you near choke as you make your way to the door.

You take the biggest breath ever when the cold air finally hits you. You used the wall to prop yourself up lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag. You closed your eyes for a moment resting your head against the wall, trying to think about absolutely nothing. When you were finally calm you opened your eyes to see isaiah making his way out the door. He froze when he caught sight of you even though you assumed the only reason he was out here was because he had followed you. You smiled a little and he relaxed slightly under your comforting stair. He was bigger now, a lot muscular and slightly taller than you recall. His hair was changed and his face had more structure a sharp cheekbone and jaw. But even though all of these small physical changes he still had those same eyes.

“(Y/N),” he began to say but you cut him off by walking over and wrapping your arms round his shoulders pulling him into a hug. He was tense at first not really knowing where to put his arms, you wondered if this was inappropriate, if he hated you or despised you. But after a few moments he melted into you squeezing hard round your back and sighing slightly.

“Well Isiah,” you clear your throat pulling back from him. “It is bloody good to see you.” you both were grinning at each other like you did when you were kids.

“I would say the same but i’m still healing from the wounds you left when you rejected my marriage proposal,” Isaiah joked clutching his heart faking an injury like he’s been shot. You laughed but internally you were confused at to why he was laughing about the situation.

“Yeah…” you start to mumble awkwardly, sorry about that.”

“No don’t be stupid (Y/N)!” he laughed again. "It’s fine. We were kids, it was stupid anyway we were far too young to know what love was. It wouldn’t have lasted.”

Ouch. your heart dropped to your stomach as you fought hard to hold back the lump that was forming in your throat. Every time isaiah laugh it chipped away at you a little more. Because the fact was that you did love Isaiah and you often wish you had stayed. You wish you married him, and you very much believed he was the one that got away. But he didn’t think like that at all. He thought it was a dumb mistake he made as a kid, and maybe it was. Your awkward fake laugh had drawn a stop to the conversation as you stood there uncomfortably in front of him all of a sudden very self conscious.

“Well would you lie to get a drink with me?” he asked placing one hand on the small of your back to guide you in and the other outstretched in front of him to lead the way.

You weren’t given much option but let him lead you to a table at the back while he grabbed drinks. He placed them down and took a seat in front of you.

“So tell me, what’s happened to you since I've been gone?”

“Well, it’s been 6 years so a lot. A lot of booze, girls and snow.” you roll your eyes at that comment which made him chuckle.

“Whilst I've been growing up you’ve been partying,” you say bluntly. You didn’t mean it to come out as harsh as it did but you could see Isaiah furrow his brow slightly.

“I partied to get over.” he shot back leaving a sting in your chest again. “But after i did, i had to grow up too. I became a bigger part in Shelby limited as you may know.”

“Ah yes i did hear some talk when i was up a few years back, congratulations,” you smiled softly at him really meaning what you said. He always wanted to become a part of it all.

“You were up a couple years back?” he asked looking very confused.

“Yeah, i come up for holidays, birthdays things like that.”

“Oh.. it’s… it doesn’t matter.”

“No what is it?”

“Was just that Michael said you didn’t come back, that you weren’t allowed or something. I just thought…” he was getting more awkward in front of you. “Well i thought that you didn’t see me because you couldn’t rather than you wouldn’t.” this comment made you get angrier and you decided to play defence.

“Well whenever i asked where you were Michael would say you were on business, you couldn’t come or you were with your girlfriend so I didn’t bother prying.”

“Guess he was trying to keep us apart then.”

“Was probably better that way,” you say sighing.

“Anyway,” he starts off again. “I met a girl i liked, i thought i could love her. but , the time never came and as hard as i tried i couldn’t. She was set to be my wife but we broke up a few months back.”

“Oh I'm so sorry Isaiah,” you say sympathetically reaching out and taking his hand in yours subconsciously.

“Don’t be silly (Y/N) I am the one who should be sorry, you lost your husband.” you looked down at your hands still holding one each other the memory of each other. After a few moment you finally mustered up the nerve to ask Isaiah what had been eating away at you for this hour-long chat.

“Do you really think proposing to me was a childish mistake?” he sighed leaning back into his chair and stroking his thumb on the back of your hand.

“No,” he laughed slightly. “I just wanted to seem unphased by you. but , if we are being honest. I don’t think it was a mistake at all, in fact i still think you probably would have been the love of my life. But yes proposing at 18 was childish. I did believe we were going to get married though, spend the rest of our lives together… and in a way i still do.”

“Me too,” you half sighed.

“Why don’t  we try? Try this old thing again?”

“I… i can’t,” it killed you to say it, but it was true. His face dropped and he pulled his hand back onto his lap staring at the floor. “But maybe one day ok?” you grabbed his attention again. “My husband just died, earlier on i was literally burying the man i was meant to be with forever into the ground. I’ve just move home from working in a business in London with a notorious illegal gangster. I have a daughter now and she is my world i will always put her first. I can’t just now because i need time to process all this it won’t be as easy as when we were 18. But if you’re willing to wait then i’m willing to try.”

Isaiah was grinning from ear to ear as he took your hand giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Well (Y/N), you know where to find me.”

[thisisheffner]

The Clash's 40 greatest songs – ranked! | Music | The Guardian

A historical artefact, not for the proto-punk music, but because the lyrics epitomise the new wave’s perceived threat to the old guard. “No Elvis, Beatles or the Rolling Stones / In 1977,” sang Joe Strummer, hardly about to let his love of such pop greats get in the way of punk’s declaration of year zero.

39. White Riot (1977)

Guitarist Mick Jones now dislikes the first Clash single, its lyrics written by Strummer after the band were caught up in the 1976 Notting Hill riots and he concluded white people needed “a riot of our own”. The sentiment hasn’t aged well, but the song exemplifies the amphetamine-fuelled punk the band would leave behind.

38. What’s My Name (1977)

A Clash curio in that it’s the only one of the group’s songs to bear a writing credit for Keith Levene, the band’s original guitarist. Levene showers melodic gold dust all over this otherwise shouty punk stomper, but is better known for his work with John Lydon in Public Image Ltd.

37. Know Your Rights (1982)

From Combat Rock, the final album by the classic quartet of Strummer, Jones, bassist Paul Simonon and drummer Topper Headon. The tank was getting emptied, but Strummer’s black humour brims through lines such as “You have the right to free speech / As long as you’re not dumb enough to actually try it.”

36. I’m So Bored With the USA (1977)

This hugely anthemic track on debut album The Clash began life as I’m So Bored With You, a song about Jones’s girlfriend, before Strummer’s ad-libbed “… SA” took it in a new direction. The blistering critique of US imperialism and exported culture (“Yankee detectives are always on the TV”) didn’t stop the Clash’s love of American iconography, cars and clothes.

35. Janie Jones (1977)

Original Clash drummer Terry Chimes – uncharitably credited as Tory Crimes on The Clash – propels the debut’s storming opener, a eulogy to a 60s pop celebrity and libertine who had been jailed for vice offences in 1973. On release, the convicted madam returned Strummer’s affections in the song Letter to Joe.

34. Charlie Don’t Surf (1980)

By the epic three-disc fourth album, Sandinista!, the Clash arguably had too many ideas for their own good, but within the 36-song sprawl are undoubted treasures. Titled after a Lt Col Kilgore quip in Apocalypse Now, there’s an element of the doo-wop era to this sweet song about, well, cultural imperialism.

33. Brand New Cadillac (1979)

This bracing cover of a 1959 Vince Taylor and the Playboys track refers to the early Brit rockers’ glamorous dream car (when most of them probably had to make do with a humble Ford Anglia). From the double album London Calling, the Clash’s creative zenith.

32. The Guns of Brixton (1979)

Brixton boy Simonon wanted some songwriting cash and so penned this memorable song about police harassment and discontent in his London neighbourhood, two years before the district exploded into rioting. In 1990, Simonon received an unexpected windfall when Norman Cook (later Fatboy Slim) sampled the groove for Beats International’s hit Dub Be Good to Me.

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31. Clash City Rockers (1978)

Year zero meant many punks hurriedly buried their pasts in pub rock bands with long hair, but this 1978 single reworks a song from Strummer’s old pub rock band, the 101’ers, around trademark Clash self-mythology. The shift from aggressive guitars (surely copied from the Who’s I Can’t Explain) to something more mournful suggest musical adventure to come.

30. Rudie Can’t Fail (1979)

According to long-time Clash associate Don Letts, this London Calling gem is the fruit of a long hot summer that the Clash spent smoking herb and going to reggae clubs. It’s a horns-drenched homage to Caribbean culture, “drinking brew for breakfast” and the “chicken skin suit”.

29. Tommy Gun (1978)

A great single from the not universally adored second album, Give ’Em Enough Rope. Strummer is scathing about the idea that terrorists see their cause as glamorous, yelling: “You’ll be dead when your war is won”, while Headon’s snare drum rolls resemble gunfire. This didn’t stop the singer posing for photos in a T-shirt honouring Italian-based violent leftist organisation Brigate Rosse (the Red Brigades).

28. Police and Thieves (1977)

This cover of the Lee Scratch Perry-produced Junior Murvin hit stands out a mile on The Clash. It’s their first attempt at reggae, played punkier, with a new, Jones-penned intro. That summer, Bob Marley (working with Perry) acknowledged the burgeoning punk/Jamaican music love-in with Punky Reggae Party.

27. London’s Burning (1977)

Also from the debut album, this most captures those punk rock summers of 1976 and 1977, with its bone-crunching verse and rabble-rousing chorus. The imagery is a comprehensive list of the band and movement’s inspirations, from high-rise living above the Westway (where Jones lived with his gran) to a capital city “burning with boredom now”.

26. Somebody Got Murdered (1980)

According to Pat Gilbert’s superb book Passion Is a Fashion, the Clash were approached by producer-arranger Jack Nitzsche to provide a song for the William Friedkin movie Cruising, but he never called again. Thus, the song lit up Sandinista! with its effervescent tune and film noir-ish imagery about a random killing.

25. Career Opportunities (1977)

The limited youth employment of the 70s is timelessly skewered (“Career opportunities, the ones that never knock”) in this gem from the debut. The line “I won’t open letter bombs for you” refers to an actual job once held by Jones, checking government mail for explosive devices.

24. Pressure Drop (1979)

The B-side of the slightly hackneyed English Civil War and one of the Clash’s great covers, of Toots and the Maytals’ 1970 reggae/ska classic (as heard in the 1972 film The Harder They Come). Later, Strummer was at pains to point out that they recorded it in 1977, hence it pre-dates 2-Tone.

23. This Is England (1985)

Headon and Jones had been sacked by now (for heroin abuse and behavioural issues, respectively) as a remodelled, five-piece Clash made a sixth album. The otherwise unloved Cut the Crap did herald this final terrific single. Keyboards and guitars drive Strummer’s withering take on our national strife.

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22. Gates of the West (1979)

The Clash had been singing about the US since I’m So Bored With the USA. Based on Rusted Chrome, an early Jones composition, this stormer from the Cost of Living EP describes their New York experiences, the characters, imagery and anthemic tune all reminiscent of Bruce Springsteen.

21. Hitsville UK (1980)

From Sandinista!, this eulogy to pop is a bubblegum delight that namechecks the UK’s emerging independent labels and argues that a great “two minutes 59” single can triumph over industry sharp practice. With its Motown (the original “Hitsville”) groove and sugar-coated duet between Jones and his girlfriend, Ellen Foley, the Clash’s remaining hardcore punk fans hated it.

20. Police on My Back (1980)

Another terrific example of the Clash’s ability to cover a song (the original was by Eddy Grant’s old band, the Equals) and make it sound as if they had written it. Jones’s guitar wails like a siren, and the song has all the adrenalin rush of a police chase.

19. Lost in the Supermarket (1979)

In the tradition of the Rolling Stones’ (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction and the X-Ray Spex back catalogue, this is a great Strummer-penned/Jones-sung song about the dehumanising effects of advertising and the consumer society. (“I came in here for that special offer / A guaranteed personality.”)

18. I Fought the Law (1979)

The band reputedly heard the Bobby Fuller Four original on the studio jukebox in San Francisco while recording Give ’Em Enough Rope. Writing credits aside, this is a trademark Clash smash, full of outlaw rebel posturing and laden with Headon’s six-shooter drum cracks.

17. Death or Glory (1979)

Strummer’s ferocious blast at ageing, sellout rock stars builds to a hurtling climax on a lyrical twist as he fears a similar fate himself. Presumably it was ruled out as a single because of the infamous, hilarious line: “But I believe in this and it’s been tested by research / He who fucks nuns will later join the church.”

16. Safe European Home (1978)

Strutting around Kingston, Jamaica, in full punk regalia (in theory to stir the creative juices for Give ’Em Enough Rope) proved a rude awakening, but did produce this untypical example of Clash self-mockery. “I went to the place where every white face / Is an invitation to robbery / And sitting here in my safe European home / Don’t want to go back there again.”

15. Clampdown (1979)

Strummer’s view that capitalism was endangering people and the planet was sharpened by the Three Mile Island nuclear accident, which inspired this London Calling highlight. The Clash were exploding with musical ideas by now, and packed rock, funk and disco into this fiery, timeless anthem.

14. Garageland (1977)

The rock critic Charles Shaar Murray’s dismissal of the Clash as a “garage band” in an early live review prompted this defiant riposte, which also reflects the band’s fretting that signing to a major label would be selling out. It’s a furious but somehow melancholy anthem: “People ringing up making offers for my life / But I just wanna stay in the garage all night.”

13. The Card Cheat (1979)

Surely channeling Jones’s love of Mott the Hoople, this is the sort of thing that presumably inspired the Libertines. Horns, drum rudiments, a sublime piano hook and vivid imagery (“To the opium dens and the bar room gin ... The gambler’s face cracks into a grin”) combine in a song about a card sharp who is shot for cheating.

12. Spanish Bombs (1979)

A favourite of the late INXS singer, Michael Hutchence. The melody is glorious and Strummer’s lyrics contrast the freedom fighters of the Spanish civil war with modern tourists. The singer partly sings it in what he called “Clash Spanish”. Olé!

11. Rock the Casbah (1982)

Headon wrote and played most of the music on Combat Rock’s club/chart smash, which innovatively combines rock, funk and a slightly eastern feel. Strummer’s lyrics are inspired by Iran’s post-Islamic revolution ban on pop music, the singer’s idea being that the people would rise up and “rock the casbah”.

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10. Train in Vain (1979)

After a planned NME flexidisc fell through, this sublime Jones unrequited love song was added to London Calling too late for listing on the initial sleeves. Pete Townshend’s favourite Clash tune, this is the band at their unashamedly poppiest. Headon’s killer drum intro fires one of the rhythm section’s funkiest grooves.

9. Stay Free (1978)

Jones’s sublime, heartfelt eulogy to his old Strand school friend Robin Crocker, who became known as Robin Banks after a sting of heists landed him a stretch inside. Some fans were delighted to discover that Banks subsequently punched the song’s producer, Sandy Pearlman, who had previously worked with Blue Öyster Cult and is largely blamed for Give ’Em Enough Rope’s not exactly punky gloss.

8. The Magnificent Seven (1980)

Having rattled through punk, reggae, ska, dub and rockabilly inside five years, our boys assimilate the emerging hip-hop sounds they heard while in New York, and Strummer turns white rap pioneer. A terrific groove forms the platform for daft-but-inspired wordplay: “Italian mobster shoots a lobster.”

7. The Call Up (1980)

Following the Russian invasion of Afghanistan, as the US geared up to reintroduce the draft, the Clash spearheaded the resistance with this fantastic Sandinista! single. “It’s up to you not to heed the call up / I don’t wanna die ... I don’t wanna kill,” cries Strummer, over a magnificently eerie reggae-ish backdrop.

6. Bankrobber (1980)

So many great songs poured out of the Clash that this Mikey Dread-produced gem was almost thrown away as an import-only 45, which didn’t stop it making it No 12 in the UK charts. It’s dub music with folk storytelling – Strummer’s “daddy” wasn’t really a bank robber, but a diplomat.

5. London Calling (1979)

The Clash’s highest-charting UK single, until Combat Rock’s rather banal Should I Stay Or Should I Go reached No 1 in 1991 after being used in a Levi’s ad. Years before the climate crisis and flooding sparked public concern, Strummer fears an imminent biblical apocalypse, hence “London is drowning and I live by the river”.

4. Armagideon Time (1979)

The flip of the London Calling single, this superb reworking of Willie Williams’ social justice anthem is the definitive example of the Clash playing reggae. Strummer’s “OK, OK, don’t push us when we’re hot” is his shouted rebuff to then-manager Kosmo Vinyl, urging him to scrap the allotted three-minute length and keep the tapes rolling.

3. Complete Control (1977)

After CBS infuriated the Clash by releasing Remote Control as a single against their wishes, the band responded with their punk-era high watermark. Lee Perry produces, and Strummer’s yelled “You’re my guitar hero!” during Jones’s blistering guitar solo is one of many goosebump moments.

2. Straight to Hell (1982)

Headon’s bossa nova rhythm and a haunting hook (later sampled by MIA for 2007’s Paper Planes) power Combat Rock’s finest. The band’s unity was already fracturing, but Strummer rightly called this vengeful tirade against imperialism and American soldiers in Vietnam who left local women pregnant (“Go straight to hell, boys”) “one of our absolute masterpieces”.

1. (White Man in) Hammersmith Palais (1978)

Any of the Clash’s best songs could grace the top spot without too much argument, but this edges it. The collision of reggae (verse) and rock (chorus) epitomise what the critic Lester Bangs described as the Clash’s fusion of “black music and white noise”. Lyrically, a disappointingly lightweight reggae gig (in the Hammersmith Palais) triggers Strummer’s blistering state of the nation address, in which he considers everything from music (“Turning rebellion into money”) to racism and rising nationalism (“If Adolf Hitler flew in today, they’d send a limousine anyway”). Forty-two years on, it remains a tour de force and as relevant as ever.

Various 40th anniversary super deluxe editions of London Calling are out now on Sony.

This content was originally published here.

[terencehawkins]

STONE COMMUTATION, PORTLAND: THINGS ARE GOING WEIMAR

The recent commutation of Roger Stones’ s sentence triggered the usual fruitless speculation about the “strategy” behind it. Generally, the current incumbent of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue is no more capable of thinking beyond today than an Adderall-crazed lab rat desperate for another food pellet. But there is something behind this, and it’s not what the commentariat generally thinks.

LOYALTY? HA!

The immediate, and most obvious, explanation for this politically risky move was that Trump was paying back his loyal consigliere for years of service and, more importantly, keeping his pie-hole shut. Nonsense. On the first point, Trump is famously incapable of loyalty, gratitude, or any other emotion that doesn’t result in cash or an erection. As to the second, Paul Manafort was similarly laconic, yet remains in Federal custody, albeit now on home release.

Hmm. Why the distiction?

THE DIRTY TRICKSTER

Roger Stone has built his latter-day career as a self-professed “dirty trickster.” One stops for a moment to ask why he says so out loud—do spies put “spy” on their business cards?

But leave that aside. Let’s turn for a moment to Stone’s arc. He started out in politics as a Nixon campaign intern—he famously has Tricky Dick tattooed on his back, which no doubt would have proven a point of interest, if not a spooge target, in the showers had he actually begun his sentence—where he carried out some amusing low-grade antics in Nixon’s service. He parlayed that into a career as a K Street lobbyist in the 80’s, where his partner was—what? Paul Manafort. Despite the appeal of these nesting Ukrainian dolls, let’s take a look at the irrelevant, albeit extremely entertaining, interruption in his political career.

in 1996, Stone was a consultant with GOP Senator Robert Dole’s Presidential campaign. That hit a tabloid wall when it was discovered that Stone and his second wife had taken out space in a swingers’ magazine looking for an “exceptional well hung in shape men” for threesomes.

To be clear, Stone was advertising for men to fuck his wife while he watched. While Trump’s GOP may be cool with that, Dole’s wasn’t. Despite frantic deployment of the Trumpian tactic of blame-shifting—Stone claimed that the usual “disgruntled employee” with a “drug problem” had somehow coopered all this up—-his conservative political career appeared to be done. (He finally admitted the truth in 2008.)

Despite his ouster from mainstream politics, Stone’s public malice continued unabated. For example, he organized the celebrated Brooks Brothers Riot that disprupted the 2000 Florida recounts; has been accused of forging the 2004 Killian Memos that called into question W’s military service but, when proved fake, ended Dan Rather’s career; and was involved in the prostitution scandal that ended the political life of New York Governor Elliot Spitzer. And all the while cultivating a public persona as Best Dressed Man of 1939.

GET ME ROGER STONE

Stone’s bizarre and squalid career was famously documented in a 2016 Netflix film, “Get Me Roger Stone.” The burden of the title was, in part, that Stone wanted to be the guy you called when things were totally sideways and the only way out was to stick some dead male escorts in your opponent’s bed. A man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for, right?

And that—in part, maybe—is what the commutation signifies. Or so argued GMRS producer Dylan Blank in a recent NYT op-ed.

See, even though he rages and kicks at his campaign staff like Henry VIII in a neurosyphilis seizure, whatever rational part is left of Trump’s brain recognizes that he is in very deep electoral shit. Which shit exposes him not only to the ultimate narcissistic injury of a landslide loss, but worse, the existential threat of post-Presidential prosecution for himself and his family. He just can’t afford to lose. Thus he reasons that in order to prevail in this battle of all against all, he needs the help of the dirtiest dirty trickster he can get—Roger Stone.

Hence the commutation. Trump needs Stone’s help.

But is that all?

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE: THE PROUD BOYS

Trump’s reliance on this Homburged freak may be based on something else as well. Since 2016 Stone has cultivated an association with the Proud Boys, a ”Western Chauvinist”—i.e, white nationalist Islamophobe fascist—network of street fighters founded by Gavin McInnes, who in a move whose reasons defy inquiry, sought to refute claims of homophobia by sticking a dildo up his ass in a TV interview. (Click here for images you will not be able to unsee.) The Boys’ initiation includes getting the shit beaten out of them while reciting pop culture trivia and taking a pledge to limit masturbation to once a month—particularly burdensome in view of the rudimentary social lives of most alt.right bros. In addition to these entertainments, the Proud Boys have engaged in a lengthy campaign of public violence and intimidation, including an appearance with their fellow very fine people at Charlottesville in 2017.

Stone’s engagement with the Boys is not merely casual. He is, in fact, an affiliate member, having sworn the Boys’ oath not to apologize for creating modern civilization. (I am not making this up.) In return for the sheen of “respectability” Stone has lent them, the Boys have served as bodyguards, escorting him to and from his frequent judicial hearings and proclaiming his innocence from the courthouse steps. In chorus.

Is it a coincidence that Trump sprang a right wing thug with a following of street-fighting fascists? Incidentally, note the fellow on Stone’s left, in the buttoned-up polo? That black-and-gold shirt is the PB’s unofficial uniform.

CONNECTING THE DOTS

So let’s see. We’ve ruled out gratitude or loyalty as motives for the commutation. What does Trump need from Roger Stone that he can’t get someplace else? His expertise in the political black arts doesn’t pass muster—he’s not the only asshole in Washington, or these days, nor even the biggest. And let’s not forget that Trump is more than willing to recruit aid from shithole countries happy to remake America in their own image. So no, there’s nothing about Stone’s skill set that makes him indispensable. So what does he bring to the table that Trump wants?

Just this weekend, Trump tipped his hand. Deploying masked, anonymous federal troops in unmarked vans to Portland, with the blessing of his lovable roly-poly Interior Minister Barr—who’d previously okayed the use of tear gas against peaceful protesters so Trump could waddle across the street for a photo op— was the warmup for his election day ace in the hole: full on street violence. Weimar style.

Voter suppression has been the centerpiece of GOP election strategy for decades. It’s unavoidable—as "The Wire’s Baltimore mayoral candidate Tommy Carcetti noted, his hopes were slim because “I wake up white in a city that ain’t.” A party of old white men in an increasingly brown country faces an obvious, existential challenge. One it will ultimately lose, of course, but until then, it can eke out a few more good cycles, with their resultant Federalist Society judges, regulatory rollbacks, and hedge funder tax cuts. But only by making damn sure that minorities don’t vote. Especially in swing states.

Previously, the GOP had played what now seems like softball—gerrymandering, closing polling stations in minority districts, sowing confusion as to the election date. But that won’t work this time. Trump’s response to plague and racial crisis and his plummeting polls has thus far been to flounder and howl like a manatee chopped up in the prop. But in the clutch, unconstrained by any respect for norms, terrified by the prospect of post-presidential prosecution, he’s going to toss the GOP playbook and move with the Nazi.

The Brownshirts, or SA, were Hitler’s paramilitary before his 1933 seizure of power. They were beerhall bullies whose job was “security,” ostensibly protected the Nazi leadership at their public events, in reality intimidating its leftist opponents. It played a critical role in the elections of 1928, 1930, and 1932, showing up at the polls to fight Communist supporters and blocking access to voters in left-leaning districts. And of course, after Hitler was securely Fuhrer, they were the principal executors of the Kristallnacht pogrom.

So here’s what’s going to happen. On Election Day, in urban polling places in swing states, Proud Boys are going to show up as “pollwatchers.” And as soon as black and brown people start showing up in numbers, they’re going to start kicking ass. It doesn’t have to happen a lot. It doesn’t have to happen everywhere. But it will do a lot of damage to turnout. And the thing about Election Day is that it’s just one day, and no do-overs, full stop. So whatever damage is done can’t be undone, ever. So a second term secured by street violence can be reversed only by impeachment. And we know how that went.

Think it can’t happen? See below. Especially the last line: “You still think you can control them?”