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menlove · 2 days ago

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"Life After the Bastards: 30 Years On, Macca Tells All"

"Blamed for the break-up for the biggest band in history, Paul McCartney downsized rapidly to cultivate a successful pop smallholding. Yet a bountiful solo career was always dominated by two famous partners, he tells Paul Du Noyer."

i said i'd do this ages ago and then the horrors happened, but this is a written up version of an interview by paul du noyer with paul mccartney from mojo's july 2001 issue.

sidenote: this seems to be the source for the claim that john thought "dear boy" was about him, which is why i bought the magazine because i haven't been able to find a digitized version of the interview and wanted to get the context. but it's a very fascinating interview just in general so it's definitely worth a read!

Wings were a band who seldom felt the feathery end of the critic's quill, but this year we're seeing Paul McCartney's biggest effort so far to rehabilitate the second most popular group he ever belonged to. He's released a double-CD and a documentary, both called Wingspan, that tell the story as he would like it told. And you soon realise that there's more than a muso's pride at stake in this project. "The great thing is," he says, "it vindicates Linda. I know she wanted to do the Wingspan thing. She knew if it was laid out correctly, people would get the idea. With all the slagging off she got, like the famous tape at Knebworth..." (This illicit cassette, from the mixing desk of a live show at the outdoor venue, was for years a dependable source of satirical mirth in music business circles; Linda McCartney's off-key vocals circumnavigate the chorus notes of Hey Jude, while anonymous engineers hoot cruelly.)

"The truth was," her loyal widower continues, "she was doing this (he stands, raises his hands to clap above his head). She was being the big cheerleader: 'Hey Jude, naah-naah-na.' But you don't see the visual, you just here this out-of-tune voice, and I know she always wanted the record put straight. And this does. You see her playing. You hear her singing beautifully. And you see what she was to the group. You see why she had to be in the group. She becomes the ballsiest member of it..."

He settles back on the sofa, here in the Soho office of his MPL company. Around his neck is a slim pink tie of the kind that Elvis used to wear. On his feet are trainers that look less like a gesture to trendiness than a concession to comfort. Just behind him is the Art Deco statuette that appears on a couple of Wings LP sleeves. The other great thing about the Wingspan film, he says,was being interviewed by his daughter Mary. (That's her face you can see, peeping out from Dad's jacket on the cover of the first solo LP, 31 years ago.) "I'd never had such a long natter with her, as doing this. And I used to say to my kids, You're the only ones who never ask me about The Beatles. Their friends would come round and say, 'What was it like being in The Beatles?' I'd go (adopts pompous old git voice), Well, let me tell you... And my kids would all go out the room: 'Oh bloody hell, he's off...' That's how kids are, they don't want to hear about that shit. But their friends would, so I'd chunder on..."

In fact he chunders on about The Beatles a lot more than you might expect. Or about one Beatle in particular, at least. The World's Most Famous Living Liverpudlian is anything but reticent when it comes to the World's Most Famous Dead Liverpudlian. It's quite contrary of him, because for the first 20 years after the group split up, he showed a stubborn reluctance to discuss the subject with his interviewers. They wanted to ask about John Lennon; he wanted to discuss Back To The Egg... Then came a reconciliation with his past that culminated in the Anthology exercise, when the moratorium on Beatle-talk was entirely lifted. And now, in 2001, when the promotional agenda has switched back to Wings, you almost have to coax him off the subject of John Lennon. Is it just force of habit, or maybe the need to exorcise some kind of long-nosed, bespectacled, sharp-tongued ghost inside his head?

Taste restrains Paul from claiming any posthumous victories over John, though it's no secret that he still has some differences with Yoko that are as wide as the Atlantic that normally separates them. But he can't resist smiling at the irony of Lennon spending his last few years championing the sort of domestic cosiness that was once a derided part of the McCartney stereotype.

"Yeah, it's lovely. But you're right to say they were stereotypes. Everyone thought John was the hard, working class hero. As you know, if you look at his house, he was actually the middle class one, from Woolton. We were the scruffs. He had the full Works Of Winston Churchill: nobody any of us knew had that. A set of encyclopedias was the most that anyone in our class had. But he had The Works Of Winston Churchill, and he'd read 'em, I think.

"There were so many stereotypes of John. And I love the fact that in the end- it's one of the great blessings of my life, seeing as he got shot- that during the last year, we made it up. Thank God for that. I would be just so fucked up now, if I'd still been arguing with him and that had happened. I was thinking about it just the other day. It was cool that I'd started ringing him. We'd had a bread strike over here and I rang him and I was saying, What are you doing? He says, 'I'm breaking some bread.' Oh! Me too! Imagine, with the stereotypes, John and Paul talking about baking bread. He'd just had Sean, and he was talking about just padding round the apartment in his dressing gown, putting the cat out and changing the baby.

"And I'd been doing all of that, and as you say, I'd been stereotyped for it. It was really warm to be able to talk to him that ordinarily, finally. It was like we'd got back to where we'd been when we were kids. It was like we could actually talk about stuff that didn't matter, but somehow it did matter..."

Back in 1970 neither John nor Paul, nor George or Ringo, would find The Beatles an easy beast to walk away from. Paul and Ringo seem to be at peace with it now; John would probably have become so; George never has. Besides the legal wranglings and the personal rancour that persisted between them for a while, there was the unique problem of getting used to living in a world that you no longer ruled.

Pop in the 1960s was like a pyramid. At the top obviously, were The Beatles. Around them and just below, were Dylan, the Stones, the deposed King Elvis, and so on down to the broad base of innumerable also-rans. But pop in the 1970s was more like range of mountain peaks, topped by anyone from Elton John to the Sex Pistols. There was also no unified hierarchy any more, and there hasn't been one since. McCartney can't have found the new world order an easy proposition. But he overcame his doubts the same way that he overcame his blacker periods in The Beatles. In other words, he worked.

It's one of those first post-mop top albums that we discuss in detail today. McCartney (1970) and Ram (1971) were curiously anti-climatic in their day. The first was home-grown, small-scale, contentedly modest, like a record made for his private diversion. The second was sprawling and eccentric, full of unfinished tunes and nonsense rhymes. This was an era when former Beatles were still expected to return from the mountain bearing tables of stone (which Lennon and Harrison certainly attempted to do), not these gaudy, giggling indulgences. Three decades later, McCartney and Ram have endured far better than anyone expected.

It's typical of McCartney, though, that he's still insecure about their worth. He has a peculiar, wrong-end-of-the-telescope way of assessing his talent. He tries to talk up McCartney by telling you that "Dave Stewart really likes it", or boasts that a hippy van driver once yelled across the LA traffic, "Ram! Great album dude!" Recently his girlfriend Heather Mills put it this way: "He is a genius but doesn't realise it, which is delightful."

Towards the end of The Beatles you were dying to get back to playing live in a band, weren't you? But your first move is to go the opposite way and do a totally solo album.

Yeah. I couldn't have another band because I wasn't sure The Beatles had actually broken up. It was on the cusp: we hadn't broken up when I started it, so it was just me doing some solo stuff. And then we had broken up, but things hung on. It basically started from John's decision to leave the band, which came when I said I think we should get back together and do some little gigs. And he said, "Well I think you're daft and I wasn't going to tell you until after we signed the Capitol deal but I'm leaving the band." (Mimes an axe falling) That was, like, The Moment The Beatles Broke Up. But it wasn't in the open until a few months later, when I issued the McCartney album and did this press release with it, which virtually had the announcement. I finally blew the whistle on it. And John was annoyed, even though he hadn't said anything. It turns out, he told me later, that he wanted to be the one who announced it. He was jealous that I beat him to it. But I felt that three or four months was enough to wait around. Either we were just going to fuck about for another year, or we had to actually say to people, "You know what? About three or four months ago we actually broke up." So that was how that happened.

So in your head, The Beatles were still together when you were making McCartney. Whereas the outside world heard it as "What Paul did after leaving The Beatles." I think it seemed a strangely low-key record, as a result.

No. It was on the cusp. There were a lot of funny things around at the time. Allen Klein: he was the one I wanted to sue to get out of it all. But everyone said, "He's not party to any of the agreements, he's just an outside guy. So you'll have to sue The Beatles." So I got into this terrifying thing of having to sue them, scared more than anything of the fact that, as you say, people would just see this album come out, hear my announcement and then hear I was suing The Beatles, without knowing any of the context. So I knew I was in for problems. And I tired my best in the press to say, "Oh, blah blah blah, it was Allen Klein, blah blah." So it was a shitty time for me. The only option was to either let him take it all, and the guys just swim along with him, or fight it. He said I was fine, "Don't worry, McCartney loves me" and all of this. And I knew I was hating the bastard. But to get out of him I had to sue the guys. And, as you know, Liverpool, the mates, no matter how much we were arguing, it's one thing you don't ever want to have to do. So I knew the perception of me would, like, be deadened from there on in. And I suppose in many ways I've been fighting that for 20 years. But it was a clear choice: do that and possibly save it all- or even lose it and pay the lawyers' bills, which was not a terrific option- or just let Klein take it all. 'Cos the others were just with him, gung ho. So I took the option of suing him and had to live with that perception, including: "This is what Paul's done as his first move after leaving The Beatles." Which was actually the nicest bit of the perception: I did an album after The Beatles, so what? The worst thing for me was, I sued my best mates. But the thing is, looking back on it, they now say "Thank you, you got us out of it, we wouldn't have Apple, there'd be no Anthology, no I record, it'd all be in someone else's pocket now." It was the right thing to do, but I knew I was walking into the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Very scary, but it was one of those moments in your life when you have to do it.

And, of course, we were hearing McCartney just after Abbey Road, which was at the opposite extreme.

Very produced, yeah.

Despite the problems going on around it, McCartney sounds a pretty cheerful affair.

Yeah, it was, because of Linda. I was just starting with Linda and in my mind the album was my escape from it all. I'd get home, new baby, that joy... any readers who've got a new baby, it transforms your life. I hadn't had a baby before, though we had Heather from Linda's first marriage. Home was a great solace for me, and making this record was "Yeah, this is what I love to do." The rest, outside, was shit, but coming inside it was like a little cocoon. So I either made the album all at home or went down to a little studio in Willesden. Lin and the baby in the control room. Young married life is a very special time. And I always liked doing things on my own. I was the kid in Liverpool who sort of went on a bus to the next stop, to Penny Lane, and got off and just looked around: "Who lives there?" I still like that, it's in my personality to just go somewhere and watch people. Last night I took the Tube home. We went to the theatre, couldn't get a taxi anywhere in the West End. I really get a charge off that. George never used to. His dad was a bus driver. I'd say to him, even when we were famous, I love getting on a bus. He'd say (astonished), "The bus? Why? You've got a car!" But you're just looking at people. And now of course, with fame, they're looking at me a bit.

There's one or two on the Tube last night, cracking up laughing. Guy in a baseball cap, decides he's got to cool himself out, pull it together, gets off at the same stop: "All right mate? Good luck!" So that's where the record got its happiness. And when the time came to release it, I finally had to deal with Mammon, which was Apple. Ring them up and say, "Er, can I have a release date?" Neil [Aspinall] gave me a date. I was kind of boycotting Apple, and Suddenly Mammon decided to change my release date for (adopts sarcastic tone) the massive Let It Be album. And I'm, "You fucking bastards! I've got a release date worked out! How can you do this?" I can't remember what happened, but I certainly shouted loud enough. So it was Rage Against The Machine, me against them. That's why it was a good album for me, and it's pretty funky, some of the little pieces like Momma Miss America have a great sound on them. I was like a professor in his laboratory. Very simple, as basic as you can get, a joy to make. (Scans the tracklist) Teddy Boy was good, I'd tried to make that with The Beatles but no one was having much patience with me. Maybe I'm Amazed was about the biggest song on it. And Kreen-Akrore was about an Amazon tribe I'd seen, who were fighting for survival, I went into the studio and recorded the sound of a bow and arrow going past the mike. Even now that album has an interesting sound. Very analogue, very direct.

The next album, Ram, is famous for its supposed attacks on John and Yoko, isn't it?

Well, Too Many People was a bit of a dig at John, because he was digging at me. We were digging at each other in the press. Not harsh, but pissed off with each other, basically.

Have I misheard, or does it really start with the words "Piss off"?

Yeah. Piss off, cake. Like, a piece of cake becomes a piss off cake. And it's nothing, it's so harmless really, just little digs. But the first line is about "too many people preaching practices". I felt John and Yoko were telling everyone what to do. And I felt we didn't need to be told what to do. The whole tenor of the Beatles thing had been, like, each to his own. Freedom. Suddenly it was, "You should do this." It was just a bit the wagging finger, and I was pissed off with it. So that one got to be athing about them. Once you start, the ball starts rolling. There was a picture that we had for Hallowe'en of the two of us in silly masks that we picked up at a kids' shop in New York. I'm Wimpey out of Popeye, and Linda was another character which looked a bit Oriental. We heard later that they thought that was a dig at them, but it actually wasn't. So when John did a piss-take [in a postcard given away with his Imagine LP], he held a pig instead of the ram. This wasn't posed. Me and Linda decided to catalogue all our sheep, so there's a photograph of me holding every bloody sheep in the flock. Over 100 of them. I was supposed to be cropped out.

Is that where the title came from?

I remember driving up to Liverpool at some point and deciding that Ram would be a good title for an album, then the picture came, and you can "ram" a door down, and a "ram" is a male, like a stag. It just seemed like a good word. Monkberry Moon Delight I liked, so much so that it's in my poetry book. "My long-haired lady." Very '70s. Ram On is a cute little thing on a ukelele, 'cos I used to carry one around with me in the back of New York taxis just to always have music with me. They thought I was a freak, those taxi-drivers. Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey was an epic thing, a Number 1 in America, surprisingly enough. I like the bit that breaks in: "Admiral Halsey notified me, da-da-da, had a cup of tea and a butter pie." It's a bit surreal, but I was in a very free mood. I like all of that. It must have freaked a few people, 'cos it was quite daft. Back Seat Of My Car is very romantic: "We can make it to Mexico City." That's a really teenage song, with the stereotypical parent who doesn't agree, and the two lovers are going to take on the world: "We believe that we can't be wrong." I always like the underdog.

I think John might have taken Dear Boy as an attack on him.

Dear Boy wasn't getting at John. Dear Boy was actually a song to Linda's ex-husband. "I guess you never knew what you had missed." I never told him that, which was lucky, because he's since committed suicide. And it was a comment about him, 'cos I did think, "Gosh, you know, she's so amazing, I suppose you didn't get it.

The LP sounds like you had more tunes lying around than songs to use them in. A lot of the tracks are like medleys of different ideas.

Yeah, Long Haired Lady goes off a bit, Back Seat Of My Car goes off a bit, Big Barn Bed comes off Ram On, that's right.

No writer's block at that point, then?

No, I've been very lucky about writer's block, touch wood. It occurred to me the other day that me and John never sat down on, what was it, 295 songs me and John wrote? And on those 295 occasions, we never came away without a song, which is fucking phenomenal. The only time we nearly did, was Golden Rings, which became Drive My Car. It was "duh-duh duh-duh golden rings..." Um, this is not gonna compute. Finally, we had a ciggie and a cup of tea and our humour came back and Drive My Car came out of that. Some people analyse songwriting. I've never known about it. It's fingers crossed, every time I sit down to do it. I just dive right in and hope for the best, and it seems to work.

Were you feeling in competition with the other ex-Beatles, now?

Yeah, we were all in competition. Which was a weird thing, trying to avoid each other's release dates, like we'd avoided the Stones' release dates in The Beatles. When John or George released an album, I'd check it out, to see where he was up to. I think the truth, as a lot of people have said, is that we were missing each other. We missed the collaborative thing, of John saying, "Don't do that" or "Do that". Sparking each other off. For a while I was certainly very conscious of it. The only good thing was that I had been writing without John for a while, towards the end of The Beatles, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. It was still a pretty big shock just not to be hanging out with these guys. 'Cos I'd hung out with them since I was 17.

Even when you were not writing together, on later Beatles records, there must have been a stage in the process where the others listened to your songs, and vetoed them or otherwise.

Exactly. John brought me Glass Onion. I remember him out in the garden in St John's wood saying, "What do you think of this?" We would just run it past each other, like you would run it past a mate or a producer. And he actually asked me, "D'you think I should put in this line about the Walrus was Paul?" I said, Oh yeah! It's brilliant. I just generally tended to agree with his stuff, and he tended to agree with mine- like in Hey Jude, i was going to knock out that line about "The movement you need is on your shoulder." He said, "You're not, that's the best line in it." So, often it wasn't negative but bolstering each other up. I might go through the whole studio experience thinking, This line's not right. But the minute he'd signed off on it, I thought, This line is ace! Similarly with him and Glass Onion. It was the strength of unity.

It's always striking that, of the four solo Beatles, George and Ringo got off to the strongest starts.

Yeah, George's All Things Must Pass. As he said, it was just like a diarrhea, he must have held it in for so long. And he had Phil [Spector] and a lot of really good people. And George was just so pissed off with us. I mean, all that anger just came out. Which is a good thing for an album, the "I'll show you" factor, which I had later in Band On The Run, when two of the members left the night before. So George and Ringo did get off to very good starts. John and I took it a bit hard, but all in all throughout the years we all did pretty well as single acts.

You formed a band for Ram, but it's not yet Wings.

Not yet, no. Denny Seiwell turns out to be in the band. Hugh McCracken who plays on a lot of it, who was nearly in the band. He came to Scotland to rehearse, but he was such a New York guy that he didn't really like to be away from America, and I can see that. New York is such a satisfying town, you can walk one block and get anything, whereas you can't do that in the Mull of Kintyre...

The first official line-up of Wings, which makes Wild Life, includes Denny Laine.

Denny came from The Moody Blues. I'd seen him when were out on tour with The Beatles and we'd played with them. My enduring memory is of one night up in somewhere like Edinburgh on tour, we'd had a few drinks and we decided that The Moody Blues would play The Beatles at snooker on this very beautiful, full-sized snooker table. Instead of being sensible and playing one at a time against each other, in a kind of league, they all got on one end of the table and we all got on the other, and I'm afraid the table got trashed. Oh shit. So I knew Denny, I knew we could get on personally and I liked his voice, particularly from Go Now, which I championed. I remember taking that around the BBC in its early days and saying, "Have you heard Go Now by The Moody Blues? It's my favourite record of the moment." And those producers would take notice of us. I was also used to having another lead voice in the group with me, so Denny became that.

And this time there's a friendlier song for John.

Dear Friend was to do with John, a bit of longing about John. Let's have a glass of wine and forget about it. A making up song.

Finally you do what The Beatles wouldn't agree to do, and get back on the road.

It seemed to me that for a band it's essential. We'd given it up in '67 with Sgt. Pepper when our new decree was, "The record will go on tour and we won't. We'll make a great record and send that out instead." But what happened after that was, we made some good records, but missed the stimulus of going out on tour. We missed seeing the whites of their eyes and getting a reality check: "They liked that one, they didn't like that one." And we hadn't done it for so long that my choice was, Either give up music, or continue to make it. I wanted The Beatles to go out as a live band, therefore I ought to go out as a live band. So we got a band and hatched the plan of going out on the university tour. Didn't want a big supergroup, a Blind Faith-style thing. I wanted to try and learn the whole thing again, hopefully learn some new things, rather than just repeat The Beatles things, which had all been done, and been about as successful as anyone in the world was ever gonna be.

But you took the informality to extremes, not even booking hotels.

No gigs or hotels or anything. Looking back, I can't believe we did that. We had the van, the dogs, the kids, and it was just madness. It was like I'd never been in The Beatles, I couldn't rely on any of that fame as a crutch. We went up to these universities, and fate had it that a lot of them were having exams. We didn't ring them up and ask if they'd be ready for us. And the other thing was we walked into power cuts: it was the time of the Great British Three Day Week. My image now is of trying to find our way around the dark North with a torch. Is anyone in? Like trying to find a gig in a mine. But we found a couple. Nottingham was one. Lancaster we played. Newcastle City Hall. Durham. When we did find places it was really cool. The students had a good time.

And you had the unfamiliar experience of handling money again.

Yeah, it had all been cheques and accounts and stuff, bank statements. And suddenly it was 50p on the door. So we came away with these bags of coins, which reminded me of Peter Sellers in Tom Thumb: One for you, two for me... We just counted them out in the van afterwards. Good experience, going through all those hardships, and it got us together as a band.

But that line-up wasn't to last, and nor did any Wings line-up. Why?

I've never actually thought about it. I know it happened but I've always blanked it. Probably, in my mind, a band is a democratic unit. Everyone has an equal vote, and in The Beatles for 10 years that had been the case. So if Ringo didn't like one of our songs, which wasn't often, Ringo could veto a Lennon & McCartney song. That meant everyone felt good about themselves. But in Wings that wasn't the case. I was the ex-Beatle. So I saw myself as the leader of the group, which I'd never been in The Beatles. There wasn't a leader in The Beatles. People had said that John was, and later people had said that I was, but neither of us ever acknowledged it. It wasn't the deal. People would ask, "Who's the leader of the group?" We'd say there wasn't one. I think once or twice in Hamburg, in the early days, John said, "I am." But we got pissed off, so it became a democracy. But Wings wasn't. It wasn't a dictatorship, but we weren't all equal.

By the '70s there was suddenly lots of other big acts: Led Zeppelin, T. Rex, Bowie, Pink Floyd, even The Osmonds in their way, or Abba. Was it difficult, as a Beatle, to adjust to the new landscape?

I knew it was going to be difficult. There was this thing of Follow The Beatles. You found yourself just one of the acts in the Hit Parade, rather than the undisputed leaders. But I knew by starting the group from scratch that we had to work our way up So anyone like Zeppelin or Bowie who'd been building during the '60s and had now arrived, naturally took precedence. You just had to understand that there are people bigger than you. And it gave us a benchmark. We thought, "We'll be as big as you one day." It was very weird for me, starting all over again. But it wasn't the world's worst thing. It was quite sobering, really. It's good to be knocked off your perch. There was a lot of that with Wings. Not only was I doing things for myself with the band, I was personally doing things for myself, living up in Scotland, mowing the field with my tractor. In The Beatles, the office used to buy your Christmas tree for you. Now I was buying my own Christmas tree. I enjoyed that . It's unhealthy to think you're the big cheese all the time. Within The Beatles, we each reminded each other that we weren't. But I think there is a big risk with stardom. I'd ring up a restaurant and say, Have you got a table? "Sorry sir, we're full booked." It's Paul McCartney here. "Oh! Certainly, Mr McCartney!" I've never been comfortable with it.

It seemed like you were uncomfortable with The Beatles' legacy for most of your time with Wings.

The thing about Wings was we bought into the myth that it could never be as good as The Beatles. I knew it was the world's most difficult thing to bite off. Everything we did was in the shadow of The Beatles, which had recently been this phenomenal band. So we did everything with quite a lot of paranoia. And it's only on looking back, that I think we did a lot of great work. You look at '76, we have this big, big tour, and at first everyone wants to know, "Is this gonna be a Beatles reunion? It's rumored that McCartney blah-blah-blah, George Harrison and Ringo Starr are going to join him on-stage, and John Lennon blah-blah-blah." So it was rumoured The Beatles were going to re-form. Even in our most successful year they were taking our success off us. It was, "Well maybe The Beatles will re-form, that would be good." But the great thing was that three weeks into the tour it was suddenly, "Who cares?" It doesn't matter. This is a great band. And at the end of it we go and set some big world record. So that's good to see. We did this thing that we set out to do. And we needn't have worried.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #wings #mclennon #this whole interview was super fascinating tbh....#like all the insane paul & john quotes aside it's just very interesting #i lost it at the story about the beatles vs the moody blues game of snooker lmfao #also saying here I don't think this is nearly enough to say john thought dear boy was about him #I think the interviewer maybe meant too many people bc that's what they were talking about before #did briefly go 'I should email this guy' and then I sat there like girl it's NOT that much of a mystery put it down

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traincat · 2 days ago

Note

do you have any new spideytorch fics in current progress? of course no worries if not but i just wanted to ask. i’m absolutely obsessed with your writing and your fics!!

Thank you!

I sort of have two things I started, but haven't made a ton of progress on. I'm a little busy between work and a big bang in a different fandom, so these have been put to the side for now, but looking at them does make me want to finish them.

Fic 1 is a Just Married installment set in the future because I thought amnesia would be a fun trope to play with in the context of that universe. Basically, Peter gets whammied, forgets he ever fake-but-for-real married Johnny, and has to work out his feelings, which is horrible for him.

Peter picked up the framed photo, tilting it towards the light. He and Johnny stood at the center, splattered in -- he hoped it was paint. There was a gaggle of kids surrounding them, including two young brunet boys. One was clinging to Johnny's legs. The other was holding a water gun to Peter's head. “Our twin boys,” Johnny said, his hand pressed to his heart. “Threaderick and Weavon.” Peter nearly dropped the photo. “I’m just messing with you,” Johnny said. “That was from the day Bentley temporarily cloned himself. Which is pretty funny because he’s already a clone.” “It’s impossible to tell if any word coming out of your mouth is serious,” Peter said. “Johnny, I need you to be serious with me. Do we – do we have kids?” “No,” Johnny said, his mouth pressed into an unhappy line. He looked away from Peter. “We don’t have kids.”

Fic 2 is not even remotely presenting itself as serious. Like less so than the spider attracting body butter fic. I don't for a single second believe Peter would let Johnny's mustache from the North run go without comment.

Peter had been accused, by various people in his life, of being a variety of less than flattering things. Neurotic. Overprotective. Mildly overbearing. (“Stalkeresque,” Betty drawled from her desk, shooting him a nasty look. “Not a word, Betts,” Peter said, and kissed her on the top of her head as he dropped off her brown sugar latte. “Parker!” Jonah shouted from his office. “Do you even work here anymore?!” “Adios!” Peter said, and beat it before Jonah could call security.) (the FF come back from idk. space or whatever. I'm not pretending this canon compliant with North's run, I just want to make mustache jokes.) “I’m warning you, Bug,” Ben said. “You’re not going to like what you see.” (what he sees is the mustache. he does not like it.) -- “I don’t get what the problem is,” Harry said, waving a lofty hand in the air. “So he wants to grow a mustache. Let him grow a mustache.” “The problem is it’s hideous,” Peter said. “It’s like looking a dead, blond weasel on his upper lip.” “You liked the mustache I had back in college,” Harry said, stroking the corners of his mouth with thumb and forefinger. He shrugged. “I guess not everyone can pull it off.” Peter decided to break it to him easy. “You know I love you, right, Har?” he said. “You’re my best friend. I’ll always be there for you.” “Aw,” Harry said. Then suspicion dawned on his face. “Wait. What are you getting at?” “I hated the mustache, Harry,” Peter said. (blah blah blah) “Gwen liked the mustache, though, right?” Harry said. “Gwen said she liked it. She said it made me look like a malfeasant.” Peter didn’t bother to ask if Harry knew what that meant. “Gwen paid MJ fifty bucks to shave it off while you were sleeping.” “Huh,” Harry said. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Wow. I haven’t had the urge to get Dad’s Green Goblin gear out of storage in a long time.” “Good talk, Harry,” Peter said. -- Johnny had his waxer on speed dial and a biweekly appointment at New York’s most exclusive salon. There was no way the mustache was going to last. Peter gave it a week. A week and a half, tops. (blah blah blah) “Johnny,” Peter said, taking him by the shoulders. “Sunshine. Firefly. Light of my life.” His gaze dropped to the mustache and then back up to Johnny’s eyes. “Is this war?” “I have no idea what you mean,” Johnny said, but he reached up and twirled one end of the mustache. Sparks danced in his eyes. Peter’s jaw clenched. War it was.

I'm titling this one Mustache You a Question, obviously.

#*replies #spideytorch #myfic

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side-of-potatoes · 3 days ago

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Ooh haven't done one of these in a while, thanks for the tag! (this is potato's sideblog lol)

Favorite color: Cyan lol, any shade of blue is good too

Currently reading: Just caught up with a fanfic I've been reading over the past few days and am now eagerly awaiting an update. Also some murder mystery detective book I got from a little free library that I'm not that attached to (but still reading cause I'm curious to see who did it)

Last song: Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA. Not a song/artist I listen to too often but it was on my playlist for this month.

Last movie: I watched Free Guy with my family yesterday. I think we had a movie on last night too but I didn't pay attention haha

Last series: I've been rewatching The Good Place on in the background while I've been drawing. Also have seen the first few episodes of the Star Wars show Skeleton Crew and I like it so far!

Salt/Savoury/Sweet: Mmmm sweets probably, I love my sweets, although salty is good too when I'm in the mood for it.

Craving: I dunno really. I've been on a fried rice kick lately so maybe that?

Tea/Coffee: Tea for sure, I don't like the taste of coffee.

Currently working on: I have a one-shot I've been working on for a long time that I'm pretty close to finally finishing, and some more videos to edit. (Lately when my friends and I play games together, I've been recording and editing the videos as if we were YouTubers, it's fun!) I also want to do more art (dunno what yet) and write another what-if or side story for consequences. But I also have some rather annoying real life responsibilities that often have to take priority over my creative hobbies which are slowing me down 😔

Tags:

I don't really tag people in these cause it makes me anxious lol but anyone who wants to do it feel free!

Nine people i want to get to know better

Thank you @shortace for the tag

Favourite colour: green

Currently reading: The Bones Beneath My Skin by TJ Klune and Rivals by Jilly Cooper

Last Song: Wait For It from Hamilton

Last Movie: I Saw The TV Glow (again)

Last series: on a Phineas and Ferb rewatch

Sweet, savory, salty: sweet. But not too sweet.

Craving: choc chip cookies (luckily I have some downstairs)

Tea/coffee: coffee. As black as my soul

Currently working on: much good omens fanfiction. So much.

Tagging: @funky-disco-demon @starks-kid @sweet-omens-good-hugs @turtlenec-crowley @snognes @reese-the-usc-girl @reggie-moony @rjcee-art @snek-of-eden

#tatertags

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moonzzip · 2 days ago

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my song for you | prologue

a/n — I decided to make this mini-series in celebration of g-d's new album (and due to the lack of new stories these days), I've been busy and that's why I haven't been releasing any more stories, but I hope you like this one, I'll release the next chapter soon!

summary: your passion for music has always been something that kept you grounded, but soon you found yourself lost. your friend gets you into trouble, and you wonder if your wounds will ever heal.

pairing: jiyong x pianist!gn!reader

!warnings: mention of toxic family, bruises, blood, fainting

lowercase letters, w.c: 2,1k

nothing. nothing comes to your mind, nothing.

you play, play, and play the keys, but nothing forms.

the sound is empty, the melody is empty, the notes are empty, everything, absolutely everything is empty.

none of the forms give you feeling, never satisfied with what you're doing.

everything is bad, everything sounds bad, you don't feel like you're doing it right, nothing seems right.

your hands tremble, your fists want to clench, false notes, off-key sounds, your finger clicked the wrong key, your foot stepped wrong, you missed by a millisecond, you played two at the same time, you played none.

and you stop.

your breath is tired, frustrated, disgusted, agonized. your soul feels broken and empty, lonely.

that song that once made you happy no longer fills you.

you've been playing the piano for as long as you can remember. your family is a great pianist family, so you always had this obligation to know how to play. everyone in the family was considered a prodigy.

but not you.

you were slower compared to your cousins, took longer to understand compared to your aunts when they were children, didn't have the motor coordination of your mother or the speed of your father.

you were incomplete.

the scars on the top of your hand say it all, every little scratch, purple mark, dripping blood, silenced scream, cry, and sweat.

even so, you never felt anger toward them, your family.

much less hatred for the piano.

it was an object, it wasn’t its fault.

it wasn’t the piano that made your blood run, it wasn’t the piano that made your tears fall.

you used the piano as an escape, despite it having brought you misery.

anger rises to your head, your fists finally clench completely and begin to strike the instrument fiercely, horrible sounds coming out due to the aggression on the black and white keys, your screams scratch your throat, your body sore and tired, your mind full, yet empty at the same time, too messy, your already dried tears no longer fall.

you continue the attack for a while, until exhaustion almost wins.

you bite your lips so hard they bleed, your head tilts back, the blood running down your lips, your vision blurs, and your body falls back, staring at the ceiling as you let out a sigh, and everything goes dark.

your feet walk along the crowded sidewalk, your hands in furry, warm gloves, looking at your feet but still seeing ahead to avoid bumping into someone.

you stop at the edge of the sidewalk, now looking up, the cars passing at high speed, countless people on the other side and beside you. you sigh, hiding your face in your warm scarf, your eyes catching the large sign meters away from you: ‘galaxy corporation,’ and you sigh again.

what was your friend thinking? he called you out of nowhere, saying he needed you to come to the company where he works because it was urgent. what the hell could be so urgent that he needed your help? nothing comes to mind. your day had been going so well, you had slept reasonably well, and it was cold enough to stay under the blankets for as long as you wanted. just thinking about it makes you yawn, stretching your back, hearing a small crack, and adjusting your clothes, brushing off invisible dust.

well, here goes nothing.

the door opens automatically, the warm air hitting your face. you breathe in satisfaction and step inside—it’s well-lit and spacious—the door closes behind you. you take off your scarf and store it in your bag. there aren't many people, a small group and some scattered around, but nothing beyond that.

you wonder if your friend is waiting for you down here. you look around but decide to go to the reception.

“ah... excuse me?” the receptionist looks up and gives you a small but still gentle smile.

“hello! how can I help you?”

you try to return the smile, but it feels awkward, so you continue, “mr. kim jonghoon called me and asked me to come. could you check if he’s here?”

you could just call him, but this isn’t the first time jonghoon has called you out of nowhere saying he has something important to say, only to disappear when you try to call back. you’re not in the mood to waste your phone credits on him.

“ah! kim jonghoon-ssi? just a moment.”

you watch her pick up the fancy black phone and dial some numbers. it rings, and jonghoon answers almost instantly.

that bastard. he knew you wouldn’t come if he kept answering and responding to your questions. this man is getting too clever for your liking. you roll your eyes internally.

the receptionist is smiling like an idiot on the phone. jonghoon has a habit of flirting with people, but he could do that another time.

the sound of the phone being placed back on the receiver pulls you from your thoughts.

“he is in the building, yes. he’ll be here soon, please wait patiently.”

it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.

you look around and see an empty armchair nearby. it looks comfortable, so you sit down. you wonder if he’ll take long, then pull out your phone, looking for something to do.

ah... you should have downloaded some games.

would it be rude to put on your headphones? you think about it but take them out anyway, connecting them via bluetooth. you scroll through your spotify, maybe something by bigbang? lots of options, your finger hovers over a few, clicks one, skips, until you find one.

‘my heaven’ appears on your screen. ah... this song is so good. you remember watching the m/v when you were younger. you used to follow the group more closely. they were your inspiration to play that... thing. after a while, you just gave up on music altogether.

you sigh, looking at your hands, the scars hidden beneath the gloves, running from your elbows to your fingertips.

hours and hours, endlessly playing that thing, until your nails broke and your fingers formed calluses, or until you passed out. most times, that’s how it went.that leather whip was used on your delicate little hands, mercilessly, without pause.

you had always been a well-behaved child, never complained, never gave a reason for such methods to be used, but apparently, your difficulty in learning was reason enough.

always put down, always compared to everyone in your family—

"your aunt learned this in three days."

"your sister wouldn’t make a mistake like that."

"you never get this right on the first try. useless."

things like that.jonghoon only knows the surface. you never had the courage to give him many details, and you don’t plan to.

he understands. he never crosses that line, and that’s it.

you played so much, so much, participated in so many projects nonstop, took courses, tests, competitions, but never received a 'congratulations', never an applause. it was as if you were performing for no one.

but you never complained. as long as you liked playing, nothing could affect you.

until it did.

your thoughts are once again interrupted by a light kick to your shoe. it’s jonghoon.

(internally, you thank him for pulling you out of those thoughts.)

“hey, ___!”, he greets you excitedly.you look at him blankly before putting him in a headlock, muttering angrily,

“you bastard. you call me in the middle of the night, say it’s important, then ignore me? you know I have no patience for this, and you call me at 3 AM?? I’m going to kill you, kim jonghoon.”

he knows you’re really mad when you say his full name.

“a-ah, _-__, I can’t talk—”

you tighten your grip.

“your silence is starting to please me, jonghoon. you in a coffin would be even better.”

he taps your arm, and you loosen slightly.

“i-if you let me g-go, I c-can talk.”

you click your tongue and release him, crossing your arms.

“speak. before I change my mind and leave.”

he knows you’re not joking, so he hurries.

“so... I kind of... signed you up for a temporary job... playing piano for an artist’s production here.”

kim jonghoon was a dead man that day.

...or so you wish.

but here you were, sitting at a table with your friend in front of you. he bought you lunch, so you forgave him—temporarily. two days, you told him.

"jonghoon, you know i haven't played in three years. what the hell were you thinking!?" your voice rose slightly, laced with disappointment, and you didn’t hide it.

he lowered his head a bit, knowing what he did wasn’t right. "sorry, ___… i just wanted to help. seeing you in the same situation as three years ago makes me anxious. i hate seeing you like that at home, and—"

letting out a frustrated sigh, you ran your hands through your hair, elbows resting on the table. "this is something i'm working on, jonghoon. i know you want to help, but—" you stared at the table, eyes slowly filling with tears.

"it’s not something that heals just like that... i hate the piano. i hate my music. i hate my family. and i hate hating these things."

the man in front of you stood up and walked over, gently running his fingers through your hair. "look… i know what i did was wrong, but ___…"

he hesitated, and you looked up at him. "i know you don’t actually hate the piano. i know you don’t truly hate your music. it’s what lifted you out of where you were, ___. don’t say that, please."

you looked at him, anger flashing in your eyes. "kim jonghoon, don’t talk about things you don’t understand."

you stood from your chair, grabbing your things. "sometimes, you're just like them. you try to dictate how i feel. you don’t know anything. you shouldn’t have done this, and you know it."

you walked toward the door, ready to leave. "i’m not completely mad. i get that you want to help, but… just leave me alone. for a while."

just before you reached for the handle, the large door swung open. you took a few steps back as a man entered.

his colorful hair, cap with a scarf tied over it, yellow-tinted glasses, vibrant clothes, and perfectly painted nails made him stand out. he brought color into the dull, lifeless room—like a stylish rainbow.

jonghoon perked up, walking over to the man.

"jiyong-ssi! hey, how are you!?" he greeted the man enthusiastically, who smiled at him and bowed at a precise 90-degree angle.

"jonghoon-ssi, hello. i'm doing well. and you?" his voice was calm and deep, slightly raspy but steady. the more energetic man simply smiled and nodded in agreement.

you stood with your hands in your pockets, feeling a little out of place, glancing around.

the man with colorful hair noticed you in the room and fidgeted with his hands slightly but still greeted you. "you must be ___-ssi, right?"

you nodded with a small ‘yes’ and bowed at 90 degrees as well, polite. the man in front of you did the same. "i'm kwon jiyong. nice to meet you. i heard you’ve been playing piano for years—i’m interested in your work."

you stared at him for a few seconds, but before you could respond, jonghoon cut in. "ahh, ___ is definitely interested, jiyong-ssi! i told them about the job, and they rushed right over—you can trust me on this."

giving your friend a deadly glare, he continued undeterred. "the absolute best pianist in the world is standing right in front of you! i’ve never seen anyone like them—pure dedication! the music that comes from ___'s fingers takes me to heaven, seriously!"

you rolled your eyes at jonghoon’s exaggerated praises but stayed silent. he wasn’t going to give up on making you play again. you didn’t know how to feel about it—grateful or incredibly frustrated.

the more energetic man pulled you and jiyong by the arms, making you both sit at the table as he started talking.

"___, jiyong-ssi recently started producing his third solo album, something highly anticipated by his fans, of course. it’s not every day that g-dragon releases an album, and—"

ah.that’s why kwon jiyong seemed familiar to you.

the man sitting beside you was g-dragon.

you put your elbows on the table and buried your head in your hands.

what the hell had you gotten yourself into?

a/n – so, I wrote this while listening to gd’s ‘drama’, seriously, what a wonderful album, where I live it came out at 2 in the morning, but I woke up to listen to it, I don’t regret it one bit, thank you for the wonderful album gd, I have no complaints (and never have). thanks for reading! I’ll release part one soon, I think it will have at most 3 parts (not counting the prologue), but I can’t guarantee anything. feel free to correct any mistakes!

#g dragon #bigbang gdragon #bigbang x reader #gdragon x reader #jiyong x reader #kpop #gn!reader #kwon jiyong #G dragon x reader

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lexicrvg · 1 day ago

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On a random night in 1989, Ice and Mav have a fight about their future together. Ice wants to quit the navy and love Mav in all the ways he deserves, out and proud, but Maverick doesn't let him. He knows Ice wants to climb through the ranks and get stars on his shoulder, he can't be the reason Ice misses this.

That night, they broke up. Ice couldn't bear be with someone who didn't love him just as much as he loves them, and Maverick couldn't tell Ice he wouldn't give up flying for him.

Ice quits the navy. He would've done it with or without Maverick.

30+ years go by, and their lives haven't even once crossed paths, not even at Slider's wedding nor Sundown's funeral. It seems like the universe had separate plans for them, and it stuck this way.

(They were at both of these events, but Wolfman was in charge of "Not let Mav and Tom see each other" and he always aces a task)

Until Wolf's retirement party, that is. With him being the center of attention, he gives Hollywood the most important task of his life, Wood have other plans tho, he's very easily distracted by his husband's beautiful smile and when they're least expecting it...

"Hey" Maverick says, sitting on the bar, side by side with Tom.

"Pete!" Tom opens a big smile "Long time no see!"

"Yeah, right." Mav takes a pause, looking at the other up and down. "You look great"

And he did. Being away from the navy must've given Tom 10 years of his life back.

"You look exactly the same," Tom laughs. "Like, scarily so."

Pete laughs with him, although the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. In just 2 minutes, between seeing Tom from across the room and engaging in conversation with him, Mav noticed he seems... happy.

"I think I've been time traveling in those jets," he jokes, and Tom laughs. Again.

Tom didn't have such an easy smile back then. It rubs on Maverick the wrong way.

"How have you been?" Tom asks, after taking a sip of his vodka.

Maverick did not have a good answer to that question. Miserable? Missing you every day of my life? Discharged?

"Good" it's what he settles for. "You?"

Something in Tom's eyes twitches, like he's well aware Maverick's lying to his face, he says nothing about it, and Mav doesn't give him a chance to. He spots the ring on Tom's finger and, before he can help himself, he asks:

"What's her name?" Earning yet another laugh from Tom.

"I know it's been a while, but I'm sure you remember I'm not particularly interested in women." Tom plays with his ring and adds: "His name is Grant, and he's..." Tom searches for something in the room, then points. "... right there."

Against his better judgment, Mav turns to see where Tom's pointing. He regrets it immediately. Grant is gorgeous.

He's the exact opposite of Pete. For starters, he's tall, taller than Ice, taller than Slider whom he's talking excitedly with. Grant's hair is silver, and he carries a smile that would make Mav swoon if the situation was any different.

"We met in 2001" Tom continues, smiling lovingly at his partner. "Got married in 2016, and..."

"And...?"

"Our kid came to our lives in 2019. She just turned 10."

Maverick feels like he's going to throw up. Husband and daughter. Tom had both a husband and a daughter while Pete was still in weird terms with Bradley and as single as he's ever been. It wasn't fair. He was the one who didn't want Tom and now... Now, Tom has been living a happy life with a family he could only dream of when he was in the navy, and Pete still held onto a tiny bit of hope that he would get Ice back.

It wasn't fair. Not at all. He might die of regret.

"Listen, I gotta go to the restroom, " Ice said, getting up. "You stay here! I'll be back. We have a lot of catch-up to do, " and walked away.

Mav downed the rest of Tom's drink in one go, very disappointedly realizing it was water and not vodka.

"Hey, shortstack!" comes from Ron Kerner, looking a bit tipsy, bringing Grant on his arm. "I want you to meet my dear friend, Grant!"

"Yeah, I..."

"Grant, this is Pete Mitchell, Tom's wingmen" hearing Slider refer to him as Ice's wingmen did something weird to Mav's heart. "Mav, this is Grant Kazansky, he's..."

"Ice's husband, yeah, I heard."

Both Slider and Grant giggle at this. Grown man. Giggling. "He hates being called Ice nowadays," Grant explains. "He says Iceman is someone who should stay in the past."

"Sorry, old habits." Mav opens an awkward smile.

"Can I get you a drink?" Grant offers. "Something stronger than Tom's water."

"I thought it was vodka." Mav murmurs.

Already gesturing to the bartender to bring a drink, Grant says: "He stopped drinking when our princess came to our lives."

"And yet I'm her contact emergency" Slider interrupts.

"Because you let her eat ice cream before dinner!"

And isn't this nice? Maverick thought to himself. Him, his biggest love's husband and fucking Ron Kerner all sitting together and having a nice chat!

Before he could actually throw up in front of these people, he excused himself and went to get some fresh air.

Not even 5 minutes go by before someone sits down besides him on the sidewalk.

"He talked about you." Grant says, offering Mav a glass of something that might be whiskey — or apple juice, you never know.

"Good things, I hope." Mav says, taking the glass.

Grant snorts, but doesn't answer. Awkward silence rovers between them.

"Do you love him?" Pete asks, breaking it.

Without missing a beat, Grant answers: "More than I ever loved anyone."

Something twists in Mav's stomach, but he ignores it.

"That's good. He only deserves good things."

But it went without saying. Grant knew Tom deserved only good things, hell, Ice knew it. He would never settle for less than he deserves, and that's why he's with Grant and not Maverick.

"He's lucky to have you," Pete finishes, swallowing the bitter taste the words leave in his mouth.

"I'm lucky to have him." After a beat of awkward silence, Grant adds: "You should come by to dinner."

Mav must've heard it wrong, so he waits for Grant to correct himself. It never comes.

"What?"

"Dinner at our place," Grant explains. "He'd love to get you back in his life, he treasures his friends a lot."

Friends. Right. That's what they are. No.

"We haven't been friends in a long time," not since 1986, he lefts unsaid, since we started dating.

Grant seems to think about it, then decides, "Now it's a good time to reconect. Enjoy your drink."

Then he walks back into the bar, leaving Mav and his thoughts alone.

It all seems a bit crazy for him. Ice — sorry, Tom — has a husband. And they've been together for more than twenty years. A husband who loves him dearly and isn't afraid to say so. A husband who goes to navy events just to celebrate Tom's old friends. A husband who looks like could and would kill anyone who did Tom wrong. A husband who sat down with Tom's ex and invited him to dinner just because.

Pete thinks he should accept the offer. Just to see what Tom's been up to and meet his daughter, would she like him? Would she call him "Uncle Mav"? He should call Slider and check on what to wear and say...

Oh. He doesn't know what to say around Tom. They're strangers now. The man who he once shared a house, a bed, a life, and a heart with is now a stranger to him.

The realization does something to him, something very bad. He takes a sip of his drink and decides this day could not get any worse.

Huh. Whiskey. A good one. At least Grant knows his liquor.

#i pictured Grant as Thomas Ian Griffin #i talked about this fic before but I have to confess something #i fell for grant #and little alice #and i couldn't bear to break their hearts #so i probably won't finish it #icemav #top gun maverick #top gun #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #top gun fanfiction #top gun 1986 #ron slider kerner

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dankbog · 16 hours ago

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I haven't listened to Critical Role in a while- I tend to get burnt out around episode 70 in every campaign and give up. But I adore the EXU series, it's a perfect length and I love seeing Brennan play around in Exandria.

But my gods Divergence is incredible. It feels like Brennan and the crew looked at the horrible state the world is in and wrote a story telling us to hope. To fight. There are bad people in power, but there are less of them than there are of us. "Seven overlords or 1,200 of us?" Incredible. "Change is coming and I am change?" Jaw dropping, I had tears in my eyes.

These level zero characters; commoners who have been through absolute hell; find the cracks in the system they are in and use whatever they can to make change. They aren't warriors or heroes or even adventurers. They're just regular people, some of whom have up on hope long before the show started. They're regular people who finally said 'no, this isn't how the world is going to be' and made it true.

I think my favorite line so far has been "To respect the free will of all beings means to respect when one has made themselves an obstacle to a kinder world". I had to keep rewinding the video so I could write it down. In a time when fascism is on the rise, here in the US and worldwide, that is such an important message. People are going to make their choices, and many of them are going to choose to side with fascism and hate and oppression in the hope that they will be safe or out of hatred for others. Whatever their reasoning, they have chosen to become an obstacle to a kinder world. And those of us who are striving for a better world need to fight those obstacles however we can, with whatever means we have. Others have made their choice- respect their choice. And make yours.

I'm a level zero character. I'm exhausted and beaten down by the system, by a failing body, by so so much. But change is coming. We are change and we can make change happen. And with whatever means I have, I am going to stand firm against those who are obstacles to a kinder world.

#exu divergence #critical role #brennan lee mulligan #im in love with you

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ofspvrta · 1 day ago

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The Keeper, in all her years on this damned Earth, has never been offered a toy before. Not since she was a child. It almost feels surreal, and maybe it is, it is her long dead first wife making the offer, after all. While wearing her clothes. After they had just fought each other. If she hadn't tasted her lips earlier, she'd think the hallucinations were coming back again. Massaging at her temple, she quirks her lips into a half smirk.

"A toy... I mean, I guess. I haven't played with toys in thousands of years, but if it's from you..." She's still not over that, but it's endearing. She keeps her eyes on her as Roxana heads out of the little cave she had set up as a base, wondering if she made a good call here. No, of course she did. Roxana would never betray her. It would be foolish to think otherwise. Even as Aletheia picks up in her head, obnoxious and nagging about her decisions.

The instant the door is sealed, she feels it, the prickle on her brain as she sees Aletheia form in front of her. "What are you doing? Letting a stranger in, telling her your secrets? Have you forgotten your mission?" Kassandra shakes her head, wincing as she hobbles her way back over to one of her bags, pulling out a large jug of water as she begins to strip out of her bloodied mission clothes. "It's Roxana, Aletheia, I know it is. I can't just act like this means nothing." With barely any effort, she breaks the seal on the jug and begins to pour it over her now nude form, rinsing the blood from her healing wounds. "What would you have me do, ignore it?" Without hesitation, the Isu speaks. "Yes, you have a mission you must complete. Have you forgotten the temple already?" The Keeper's head snaps up, narrowing a glare at her. "I've served this path loyally for over two thousand years. Give me some credit. I'm finishing what I started, but now I have some help." Carefully, she dries herself off with a towel and heads back over to the footlocker and pulls on some unsoiled clothing. A simple tee-shirt and some thicker cargo pants. "Now if you don't mind, I don't want Roxana coming back and seeing me arguing with an invisible force. That's not going to go over very well."

SCARCELY BELIEVE IT . but they can believe it. because it also echoes how they met before. giving up all pretenses of a violent victory to choose love. ISN'T THAT THE SAME THING . and kassandra is still unstoppable , it was probably just witty to get that abstergo agent on her side instead of another death. EASILY ACCESSIBLE INSIDER INFORMATION . all of it just truly still feels crazy. MAYBE TRUST CAN EXIST . or maybe the gods have this cruel fate about them. WHO KNOWS .

... ( the gods? ) roxana has never particularly even been religious , let alone polytheistic in a country that is now mostly monotheistic. AND SHE HEARS THE THOUGHT LINGER LIKE AN ECHO . like those dreams and visions that are starting to feel like memories. she just sort of realizes that it doesn't particularly matter how crazy this thing is. BECAUSE IT IS . she's just now doing this whole thing for herself. there are no other expectations. SHE WANTS THIS FOR HERSELF . she wants that weird supposed immortal for her own benefit.

AND WHATEVER LIFE THAT BRINGS . for them. FOR HER .

THE SMILE THAT QUIRKS ROXANA'S LIPS ACTUALLY LOOKS RELATIVELY HAPPY . pure amusement. " yeah , i'll bring you back a toy from a hamburger meal and then while i'm eating the burger , you can tell me something from a supposed time period. deal? " roxana's brown eyes stare into those more golden ones. SHE'S REAL SERIOUS ABOUT THAT . maybe that truly makes it known. and when roxana turns to walk out of the cave , she makes only a little way down the path before she gives into an urge to bring kassandra's shirt up to her nose and breathe in the woman's smell. OH YEAH .

#λ::|| the keeper | kassandra #τ::|| roxana #τ::|| misc assassin's creed timeline #λ::|| hydrea | greece 2015 ce #Σ::|| we don't have to cross swords | ship: kassxroxana #torntruth

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echoreadsbsdfics · 1 day ago

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I have decided that I am going to play a game with the characters from my latest fic which is in progress instead of continuing to write chapter two. This includes canon characters and Ocs. If you wanna know the actual hero/vilian outfits you'll have to wait. Jack is an oc made by @softmeetscreatureplz The game is below the cut bc of how long it is.

Dazai: What game are we playing? Me: Guess the identity of certain people, I give you all a hero or villain and you have to guess their identity, however if you get it wrong you get locked up until I make you play something again! Flame: And why should we play? Me: Because I can kill you off with a click of my fingers. Flame: … Me: Okay so, Nakaharas you gettttttt Void!! Chuuya: Why does it have to be that prick? Miyo: Vod? Ryuunosuke: Mama, let's just play, it doesn't matter if it's Void, it's a game. Gin: Nodding silently Q: Do we get a photo or…? Me: Of course. *Photo of a man who is 5'11 with fluffy brown hair and bandages all over him) Miyo: Dazie! Chuuya: Are you sure you wanna pick Dazai? Ryuunosuke, Q and Gin: *Silently watching* Miyo: Yes! Chuuya: We're going with Dazai Me: Are you sure you wanna go with what a five year old says? Chuuya, Gin, Q and Ryuunosuke: Nodding in time with each other Yes Me: Alright, congratulations one point for the nakaharas Miyo: Yay!! Me: Okay, Dazai and Ty, who is Sorrow? Dazai: Sorrow as in the most wanted villain in the country Sorrow? Me: Yes. Dazai: How are we meant to know? That veil he has has gems in it so it blocks our view of his face and reflects light so no camera can catch even a glimpse of his face. Ty: It's Chuuya. Dazai: No it's not! Ty: It is, his voice and his height and build is the same and Sorrow always smells like the coffee from Chuuyas cafe which is why you complain about fighting him since you can never get over to the stray dogs cafe before it closes due to our shift times. Dazai: … Dazai: Is he right? Me: Yep. Dazai: Screeching like a new born baby Me: Jackkkkkk? Jack: looks up and then looks back at his book Me: If you play I'll set up for you and Ty to have your own slow burn romance novel. Jack: Closes the book What's the game? Me: You guess the identity of the person I give you. Jack: Alright. Me: Your person is Torch. Jack: Ty. Me: … Me: How did you? Jack: You don't need to know. Me: I don't want to know. Me: Kunikida!!! Kunikida: What is it, Echo? Me: It's simple, you're playing this game. Kunikida: Who's my person? Me: Hellhound. Kunikida: Do I get a hint? Me: He already participated in one of the first two rounds. kunikida: Nakahara Ryuunosuke. He is the only teen that fits the physical definition of Hellhound. Me: I thought this was gonna be harder for all of you. Me: Wait if you knew why haven't you arrested them yet!? Heroes: Shrugs Me: Fucking dumbasses.

Flame: What about me? Me: Oh, right you exist. Flame: Hurry up. Me: Beast Flame: is it that kid with white hair that's hugging that kid with black hair? Points at Atsushi who is hugging Akutagawa Me: Yes...

Atsushi: Looks up, confused Huh? Me: Use protection Atsushi: HUH!? Ryuunosuke: Extremely flustered Yosano: Whos my one? Me: Ah, Golden. Yosano: As in my wife? Me: Yep. Me: Kouyou, your turn. Kouyou: If it's my wife I will win. Me: No, it's Mara. Kouyou: There's no villain or hero by that name? Me: Its something one of Sorrows know associates are called however they have never been on scene Chuuya: Coughing and trying not to panic Kouyou: Do I get a hint? Me: Yes. She's adorable and you know her. Kouyou: Adorable and I know her? Kouyou: Miyo...? Chuuya: Nodding silently while trying to hide his panic Dazai: Staring at them in shock Me: Okay everyone! Now that we're done, your memories are gonna be wiped so we don't mess up the plot. Dazai: You never said anything about that! Me: I didn't think I'd have to. Flame: Evil woman Me: Thank you <3 Flame: That wasn't a compliment. Me: I know. ^^

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #mioshitomioka au #bsd au #echo rambles #dazai x chuuya #nakahara miyo #bsd chuuya #bsd akutagawa #bsd gin #bsd kunikida #bsd ocs #bsd dazai #bsd yumeno #hero/villain #au

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spiderlilywritings · 2 days ago

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Ronin Beaufort Boyfriend Headcanons

Trigger Warnings: mentions of blood, murder, gore

Well. You're in for a wild ride with Ronin Beaufort as your lover. He's not a green flag by any means, but he cares and genuinely loves you, even if he shows it in twisted ways sometimes. (Hearts drawn in blood, maybe giving you an aorta, sending pictures of his gruesome murders in #killer_shit with the caption "this for You, baby" and oh would you look at that, it's the guy that's been harassing you yesterday—)

Never runs out of nicknames for you. Will probably come up with the cheesiest/sappiest nickname just to see your reaction. It cracks him up. ("Baby. Sweetheart. Darling. Pookie. Sweet apple crumble pop with strawberries—")

If you own a vehicle like a car or a motorcycle, he's your go-to mechanic. He'll take your money and maybe a little bit extra later. ("Aww, don't give me that look, darlin'. I just wanted a kiss 's all. Hahaha!") Shows off a little bit of that muscle if you hang around while he's working. His sweetheart's there, gotta impress them right? (And if you're the type to get embarassed easily, it's more fun for him.)

Speaking of vehicles, I'm not sure if Ronin owns one, but if you do, why not take your little Devil for a late night drive? I think he'll enjoy them. Just you and him, enjoying the night air, letting the scenery pass by.

We've already seen it in the games; he's perceptive and if there's something troubling you, he'll know. He's all ears if you wanna talk about it. Or if you don't, he might think of a way to get you to open up. It's not healthy to bottle everything up after all. He's had to deal with his own issues and being stuck in your own head can be... a lot.

Sometimes, you may have impromptu late night talks with Ronin. Trading secrets and all that. Sorting out some feelings and traumas of the past. Those talks can get heavy but things always feel a bit lighter at the end. That's good, isn't it?

He's supportive. He lets you do your own thing, lets you enjoy yourself and indulge in what you love. As long as you take care of yourself too. He might even join you. ("Aren't you a cutie with that smile on your face. Come onnnnnn, show me more, baby.")

I think he'd like those silly couple shirts. The ones with lines like one shirt has "If lost, return to the bastard" and the other is "The bastard" Or just matching things in general. Maybe you want matching plushies, or jewelry, etc. He's down for it.

Learning first aid is recommended if you haven't already. At least, you'd know what to do when Ronin comes to you injured. Victims don't just lay down and wait for their fate. Of course they want to live and some will literally fight for their lives. Ronin keeps himself in shape, but some injuries are just unavoidable. He doesn't like seeing your worried face, so he's quick to ease your worries with his usual bravado.

Horror movie nights are a given. And if you're the type to scare easily (ironic since you're with a serial killer), prepare for some light teasing. Here's a not-so-secret though: Ronin loves it when you cling to him. He likes being able to feel you. Whether it's small instances like your hands brushing against his to you outright hanging onto him like a koala bear. Make him feel your warmth, that you're there. That you'll always be there. (Not. Not like— well, technically they're still— but not there. Not here. Not anymore. Just a memory now that will always haunt him. They left his heart bleeding. And then, an "Angel" patched it up. He still bleeds a little. But it's bearable. And now. Now, you—)

Tick... tick... tick...

The sheets rustle. The clock continues to tick. Ronin hears your sleepy little murmurs as you frolicked in dreamland.

He chuckles, one of his hands moving to play with a lock of your hair. The sight of you curled up on his bed, in his damn shirt, "Darlin', if this is your way of killin' me slowly, it's working. Juuust a little."

In response, you unconsciously snuggle into his chest. Really now.

Sleeping so peacefully with a serial killer? Maybe he got rid of your sense of self preservation; maybe got some screws loose in that pretty little head of yours.

Ronin pulls you closer.

This was nice. Makes him remember those times when it was easier. As easy as it can get back in Angelwood anyway.

He left that place behind, danced in hell's flames like the Devil he is, letting rot and decay follow him. He didn't mind. Let 'em haunt him till the day he croaks.

When he closes his own eyes, he sees Ther; a reminder of what he had. Of what he lost. Feels like they'll always haunt him too. There, but not there. A spirit? An illusion? No. Maybe just that lingering love he's always going to feel for his childhood best friend.

Ther's gone.

After Ther, came Maria. Maria. Sweet, sweet Saint Maria helped him heal and move on.

And now he's got another angel in his arms. Ronin thinks that's hysterical. The Devil attracts angels it seems like. Wings and all. Letting them decay till those feathers fall and the wings are nothing but bone. It's like giving the middle finger to the good ol' god those old fashioned folks at Angelwood worshipped.

How's that for blasphemy?

#ronin x reader #killer chat x reader #ronin beaufort x reader #kc ronin x reader #killer chat ronin x reader #killer chat #writings #honestly ronin's thought process is pretty hard to grasp #and the symbolism? the way he talks? how he deals with what happened in the past and how he is in the present #i swear im losing brain cells #but I like it #The way he is is unique #like he scratches an itch in my brain #i love how he's written as a character

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masterwords · 2 days ago

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Hello ❤️ If you have time I would love a blurb about Hotch and Morgan cuddles and feeling secure together it's my current brain rot thought.

Oh, yes. I do! I'm a sucker for the soft. I started things for this a number of times but all of them got so convoluted and long and away from the point of the cuddle - this one might have too, but the vibe feels right. I haven't posted a fic directly to tumblr in a while but I will do it now. I hope you like it! I wrote this in thirty minutes so if it feels fast and loose...it is. hahahaa

Words: 1.6k (that's not a blurb but I frequently fail at blurbs)

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It's nearly 1 am, and Hotch can't remember the last time he saw a Walmart at this time of night. He's avoided the store like the plague during regular waking hours, it's too bright and too loud, he can't focus. But when it's the only place open in a ten mile radius and he needs to get the snacks for Jack's preschool class on his way home from work…it's what he's got to work with.

That, or he could go to the gas station at the end of his block and spend a fortune on single serving nightmare food and be ostracized from snack parent duties entirely. The idea is enticing.

He buys a bag of tiny oranges and a bag of pretzels, bland and simple, exactly what he would want if he were a preschooler who wanted to eat quickly and get back to finger painting or playing outside. With his arms full of snacks, he makes his way toward the front of the store to checkout, catching only minor notes from the songs wafting through the store.

It's quiet in here. There are a couple of employees gathered around the one open cash register at the front and a few placed throughout the store restocking shelves. He's not the only shopper inside but he never ran into anyone else. It was almost serene and as he waits for the cashier to count back his change, he thinks this might be the best time to shop. He might have to do it more often.

It's the first time since Haley died that being in a grocery store hasn't resulted in a major meltdown on either he or Jack's part. Jack is sleeping, Jessica is staying over, and he's got all the time in the world to listen to the quiet.

He's always been partial to quiet, but it's been especially important to him in the years since the explosion in New York. Loud noises still hurt though he's gotten fairly good at concealing that fact, his carefully practiced neutral features don't give anything away anymore. He shivers when the cold hits him and with his one free hand, he reaches for the zipper on his jacket and pulls it up to his chin, stopping the worst of the wind from whipping against the exposed skin of his neck.

His car is one of about ten in the parking lot, the huge lot that takes up a full city block. It's almost post-apocalyptic, the way the streetlamps dot the asphalt, one of them flickers wildly above an employee in a blue vest trying desperately to keep his cigarette lit in the wind.

He sits in his car and waits while it warms up, rubbing his hands together like he's sitting in front of a fire. His circulation has always been bad, but since Foyet's attack it's been almost nonexistent. His hands are always cold, fingers stiff and painful. He'd gone to the doctor convinced they were going to tell him he had arthritis, that he was going to lose his ability to shoot his gun sooner rather than later, but all they said was that his circulation was terrible and gave him some exercises to do that would help increase blood flow temporarily. The pain and numbness would be persistent, they said, but do those exercises and you'll alleviate some of it.

The exercises make him feel silly. Jack sometimes copies them without knowing what he's doing - he'll be standing at the sink working his way through dishes and stop to do them because he's afraid he'll drop a glass and make a big mess in front of his son, and when he looks over Jack is playing with his legos and doing the same thing with his hands. Jack copies him a lot and that scares him, he's watching everything he does and says so carefully he's giving himself stomach aches making sure that Jack doesn't take on his worst traits.

"Hello?" he says, answering his phone. He knows who it is without looking.

"You ever coming home?" Derek asks impatiently and Hotch can hear the echo of his own hallway. Derek is waiting outside of his apartment. Derek calls his apartment home. He's still not quite over that revelation, but he hasn't made a big deal out of it.

"Had to stop at Walmart, I'm on snack duty for Jack's school tomorrow morning."

"You do realize we have to be up in less than six hours…"

"I'm on my way. Five minutes."

"The clock starts now."

Hotch throws his car into drive and heads toward the driveway a little faster than he should but there's something so freeing about speeding through an empty parking lot. It reminds him of learning to drive with his uncle because his father was rotting in a bed being eaten alive by cancer by the time he was old enough to get behind a wheel. His uncle was always a bit of a wildcard, not unlike Sean, and encouraged Hotch to put the pedal to the metal when he first started out. "It'll take away all the mystery of what it feels like to really go fast," he'd said and Hotch thought it did work, sort of, but once the mystery was gone he was simply left with the overwhelming love for it. He'd always loved to drive fast, to feel the speed in the wheels beneath him. To float dangerous corners. It's come in handy during high-speed chases on plenty of occasions.

He obeys the speed limit going home, though. Doesn't blow any stop signs or red lights. His little bag of groceries stays firmly in place on the passenger seat and he's putting his car in park at the six minute mark. He could have made it in three if he wasn't being so good about rules.

"You're late," Derek says, leaning against the wall beside his door. Hotch stops beside him, a little too close, and waits patiently for the kiss. Derek always kisses him first. Not because he has to, but because he likes to. He's competitive to a fault. The kiss happens quick, Derek smiling against Hotch's lips while Hotch unlocks the door to his apartment.

Everything is dark, only one small lamp left on to light their way through the living room to the kitchen. Doesn't matter, they know it all by feel alone. Hotch still won't step where Foyet attacked him, he walks around it like a kid skipping the cracks in the sidewalk, and Derek doesn't say a word. He never walked down the sidewalk that his father was killed on again, wouldn't even consider it. He gets it. Some places just hold onto a feeling that you don't want any part of.

They stop in the kitchen and in the dark, they hold each other for a moment. They lean heavily against one another, chest to chest, faces buried in necks, releasing the day. Derek had been hours away doing an in-service with Reid while Hotch worked in DC with Strauss. They hadn't seen each other all day, and this one moment in the darkened kitchen was all it took to make it all melt away. Hotch clung to Derek's waist, numb tingling fingers still not recovered from the night chill digging into the stiff leather of Derek's jacket.

Neither of them spoke. They could say things like I love you or I missed you but that was so heavily implied in the way they just stood there that it would have felt almost wrong to say it. From there they moved in unison toward Hotch's bedroom, undressing quickly, Derek pulling pajamas from the drawer Hotch set aside for him in his own dresser. At his house, he slept naked, but Jack had a tendency to creep into their bed in the darkest hours of the night and he'd only had to be startled awake by that terror once before he learned to deal with the discomfort in sleeping with clothes on. Hotch had offered just to take Jack back to his own bed, but Derek kind of liked when the kid came in, he liked the sound of his tiny snores and the way he curled up in a tiny ball between them like they were the safest place in the world.

But before Jack made his way in, it was Hotch that curled up against him. Derek runs hot and Hotch can't resist absorbing as much of that heat as he can. He slides beneath the blankets and pushes himself flat against Derek's side, burying his icy fingers in the warmth of Derek who always made a surprised noise so involuntarily at the intrusion. He knew it was coming but there was no way to prepare for it. Hotch sleeps in socks, much to Derek's chagrin, but at least that means his cold feet won't be a problem. Just those hands.

Hotch can't remember how or when this really started, and he can't remember ever having any real conversations about what they were or where it was going, no five year plans or relationship goals, it was just safety. It was just love. It didn't need a name or future plans, it didn't need any constraints at all. It was simply something, a beacon in a storm, a lighthouse burning bright. The knowledge that this something was always waiting at the end of a long day, no explanation necessary, had gotten them both through more hard days than either of them could ever articulate.

Whatever it was, whatever anyone might call it, didn't matter. It was simply the feeling of home in another person, and that was all either of them dared to dream of.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #criminal minds

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cfdbuckley · 2 days ago

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While there had been a few things floating around in Buck's head of possible responses Eddie might have, of whether he was going to elaborate on the taking care part, and how, no amount of Eddie's lead up was going to prepare him. Buck did wonder to himself if there was any answer Eddie could give that wouldn't be either under or overwhelming, since it was so built up by preamble. It turned out that the built up itself was a little overwhelming, since it felt like Buck couldn't get a good grip on what Eddie was leading up to until it came out of his mouth. Buck's stomach twisted uncomfortably at the reminder of Tommy, since the older man had been so far out of his thoughts right then. He couldn't tell if he felt guilty and ashamed of himself because he had allowed himself to forget he was technically entangled, or guilty and ashamed because he was technically entangled. Eddie deserved so much better and it made his heart ache.

Buck exhaled shakily, trying to put away that breakdown for later. He didn't need to literally prove how undeserving he was by giving into that feeling, not now. Choosing his words right now felt like an impossible task, like trying to do a 1,000 piece puzzle colorblind, or playing Jenga blindfolded. He was so petrified of saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing in this moment, but that was part of what had him feeling frozen, so he tried to put words to those feelings. "I am... uncomfortable... but not in the way you're meaning." He started out slow, eyes at first on his beer cradled in his hand before looking up at Eddie again, searching his face. "I-I don't have a lot of experience, in any of it, that if I have any innate dominance or submission in me, I haven't- I haven't found the right trigger for it. I'm not saying no, I'm not a complete idiot, but if- if you could just give me some time- to plan something, prepare? I can't stand the thought of giving you a mid experience. If I failed, when you were putting such an important and delicate thing in front of me? If it made you-" Realize you deserve so much better "- look at me different, in- in a bad way."

He took one brief, last sip of his beer before setting it on the table next to the other. "I wouldn't be any good to you if I couldn't control myself, and I don't think that's anywhere near possible when I-" He swallowed hard, reaching out to take Eddie's beer away from him and set it down as well, before angling his body toward his best friend, the object of every desire he had, desires that felt like they were going to explode out of his body if he didn't give into them. His hands lifted up, his fingers grazing either side of Eddie's face, jaw, lighter on the side that had been holding the beer since he didn't want to shock him with the coolness. "-When all I can think about right now is tasting and touching every part of you." His blue eyes were alight in the way they could get when he felt passionate about something, and in this case, he felt absolutely frenzied. Like he had been wrestling with this self control for far too long already and it was almost unbearable to hold it back any longer. But he did, because he would never forgive himself if the first time his lips met Eddie's was stolen or worse, not what the other was feeling. Still, he felt he could still attempt to infuse a bit of dominance. What he hoped was dominance. "If you want this... me-... ask me to kiss you."

Even before Buck answered his question, Eddie knew what he was going to say. This was Buck. Of course he was going to say yes to taking care of someone. Just as the cliché goes, this is a man that would literally give his shirt off of his back for a stranger. Eddie had actually seen it for himself a couple of times. Buck's generous nature was one of the many things that Eddie loved about the other man, but it also was one of the things that made Eddie worry about him as well. It was a trait that people could take advantage of, and there were a few times that Eddie had to second guess his own actions to made sure he didn't do that as well.

That was the predicament that Eddie currently found himself in. He desperately wanted to ask a favor, and calling it a favor didn't seem to do it justice, which he knew Buck would most likely say yes to. However, Eddie wanted to make sure Buck agreed to it for the right reason because what he wanted to ask would forever change the nature of their relationship. And while Eddie had dreamed of evolving their relationship into something else, preferably something romantic, he wasn't sure if now was the right time to even attempt to pursue it. While he had six months to adjust to being single, Eddie wasn't even sure if things were 'officially' over with Buck and Tommy. It seemed like it was, but that could all just be wishful thinking on his part.

After all these months of analyzing every detail of his life and knowing how good it felt to finally get the confirmation that he was indeed gay earlier tonight, Eddie wasn't sure if he could put confirming one more thing off too much longer. While going to a club and getting a stranger to fuck him was one thing, there was no way he'd ever trust a stranger or even an acquaintance to dom him. In fact, there was only one person in the entire world that he would trust to do that, and that person just so happened to be sitting on the couch with him.

Before he could think himself out of it, Eddie decided to just shoot his shot. "I'm going to ask you something else, but before you say anything, I want you to actually think about it first. I know I'm probably asking way to much of you, and this will probably change our whole relationship, so if it makes you at all uncomfortable, I want you to be honest with me and tell me. I'm not going to think any differently of you if you do say no... But, as I told you earlier, I'm wondering if I'd be better suited as a sub. The only way I'm ever going to know if that's true is if I actually submit to someone. You're pretty much the only person I'd ever feel comfortable being that vulnerable around though, so would you ever consider doing a scene with me? I know the timing is horrible since you're still probably technically with Tommy, and you just find out that I'm gay and single, so again, it's totally fine if you say no..." Eddie knew he was rambling, which was something he never did, but it just seemed like once he made his mind up that he was going to ask Buck, the words just rushed out of his mouth before he could think about them. Finally, he forced himself to stop talking and took a big swig of his beer as he let Buck process what all had just happened.

#p: flash forward #p: eddie

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sonysakura · 5 months ago

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Meadow (2016)

#Meadow #Meadow game #badger #Shelter Games #games #screenshots #screenshots by sonysakura #Haven't played this one for long or in a while #This and The Isle give me a kinda similar vibe I've been craving lately...

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wanderingibon · 2 months ago

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actually baffled that I've never drawn my favorite character(s) of all time on here so I had to remedy that immediately!!! ft. crow & glint

#for those who are curious glint is talking about how he wants to ask the traveler for a digestive system so he can eat spicy ramen LMAO #also. completely serious when i say crow is one of if not the most favorite character of mine. comfort character ultimate blorbo if you wil #which is nuts that i haven't drawn him on here publicly yet.... it must be remedied 😭#also i don't play the game (havent for a long while) i just eat up the crow and guardians lore for real hehe #but i'm like. ridiculously attached to crow not to be cringe on main but his character + arc helped me get through a difficult awful time #destiny 2 #crow #destiny crow #destiny glint #ibon draws #uldren sov #artists on tumblr #digital art #id in alt text

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benevolenterrancy · 6 months ago

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May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home

#svsss #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #bingqiu #sqq #lbh #scum villain #heard the song Take This Body Home by Rose Betts and it nearly took me out at the knees #it really really suits sqq's self-detonation in hua yue city right? i'm not the only one feeling this?#considered adding some literal shards for them to be stepping on - since sqq's sword explodes - but i couldn't quite make it work #anyway this has been playing like a music video in my head for the past couple days highly recommend listening to the song #if you haven't heard it before #can't get over the absolute dissonance between how sqq views this scene and how everyone else must feel about it #like to him he's just completing his plan - hopefully keeping lbh from destroying a city with energy imbalance and escaping The Plot #nbd! he and sqh have planned it all out it's FINE :) off he goes!#meanwhile everyone who loves him - including lbh who worked years to get back to him and is trying to work through a lot of grief #and resentment and doubt and longing and... - watches him DIE in FRONT OF THEM #just collapse while coughing up blood sword disintegrating energy completely consumed #like holy hell sqq could you traumatize the people around you any more???#no wonder lbh went a little bit crazy after that like my man was already not in a great place but what the fuck #lbh watches his shizun presumably sacrifice himself for him ONCE AGAIN like after he's finally Gotten Strong his shizun is STILL #coming to harm in an effort to make up for his shortcomings #my art #most of the time out here drawing what amounts to muppets and then sometimes i get the urge for this and just need to cover everyone in blo

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aihaloos · 8 months ago

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Tempted to write a replaced au twst fic where Yuu (or alternatively, I'll use my Yuu, Riyuu, who is basically who I'm writing this for) used to be the cutest girl around, the cheery one who's always around everyone, the one you can't seem to dislike even if your crush falls for her because she earnestly says sorry (even though it's not her fault) and will always help you out if you need her back in her old school. But one day, a new girl comes around and her whole reputation got destroyed. She helps the new girl adjust, tells her all the rumours and introduces her to all the popular kids. But the girl ends up backstabbing her, telling the popular girls rumours about how she intentionally plays up the act to steal their crushes to her, and lies to the boys, telling them she's just playing with their hearts and that she's a horrible person.

Yuu ends up alone and excluded, being seen as "annoying" and only having a few close friends who doesn't really interact with her in public in fear of their reputation being ruined. She ends up miserable at school, and wishes to not go anymore. But one day comes a saving grace, she gets whisked by a mysterious black carriage into Twisted Wonderland, or more specifically, Night Raven College. She doesn't mind working if it meant she doesn't have to deal with her old school, there was still 1 and a half years left of school and she doesn't want to deal with all ghe group projects to be assigned that will inevitably end with everyone not wanting to team up with her. Plus, as annoying Grim is, he's like the animal friend all of the anime and storybook protagonists she knows has, and she doesn't mind him too much.

Some things did change after she and Grim got officially enrolled, but she had no problem adapting to the social expectations of the world, part time jobs with Sam -- and occasionally the canteen -- paid enough to get her tools for cooking basic but delicious food, and new friends without the weight of her past helped her get settled comfortably.

The existence of Overblots stunned her for a bit, but a peek into Riddle and Leona's memories helped her understand the concept, even if just a little. However, things began to change eerily simlarly to her old school when a new girl comes, also in a similar position to her, getting transported to a new, unfamilliar world, and seemingly hailing from a similar world to the Earth she knows. She warmly welcomes her, eager to finally befriend another girl, but it seems that the girl does not share the same enthusiasm.

The girl only barely responds to Yuu's attempts at forming a friendship, and always seems to talk her in a condescending way, and often dismisses her, and especially so whenever there are any boys around.

Yuu will not deny any statements claiming she's an attention seeker or that she plays up her sweet innocent girl act, but she knows to never, ever sacrifice a bystander for it. But if someone insists on war with her... well that's another, different story. She's learnt her lesson of being overly optimistic, and she will not make the same mistake twice. She will not let her make her life a living hell more than it already is with Crowley's irresponsibleness.

Aaand thus begins the story. Or well, however you wanna continue it. I'm honestly in favour of most Housewardens (Kalim, Vil, and Idia in particular. I'll put my reasoning in a few paragraphs down) Adeuce, Tweels, and Ortho for team Yuu. Why?

Well, first of all, Adeuce. This is mostly because the duo is like. with Yuu since Day 1, as much of a bitch as Ace is, I think those two are the most likely to trust and know Yuu well enough to not believe the lies R (< Replacer) tells. Especially Deuce, he doesn't want to betray a friend he knew for quite a while, that would not be very honor student-like of him!! And she helped him out in a lot of situations too! He doesn't want to hurt you after all the trouble you go through to help him, and also knowing how horrible your living conditions are. Ace would most likely give in to peer pressure if the student body is overwhelmingly in favour of R, but as of now, he maybe enjoys your company just a bit more than R. Just a bit, promise.

Tweels I feel like is self-explanatory. Those two are perceptive as fuck istg it scares me. Jade especially. I feel like the two would just toy with R for a bit despite her facade and lies before dropping her after she bothers them for attention and favours one too many times.

(Ortho ties in with Idia so I'll explain him in Idia's paragraph)

Kalim is actually very emotionally intelligent. He can come off annoying and stupid, but from all the scenes I see of him, he's actually really good at dealing with people. Have you seen how he deals with the Scarabia residents after Jamil's OB??? The way he phrases his sentences?? He didn't force or even plead with them to forgive Jamil, he simply asks them to wait before making permanent judgements, and I think he's gonna be uncomfy with how condescendingly R talks to Yuu, and even if he's used to people going after him for money, I feel like R mostly eyeing him for money and how she "secretly" sighs in annoyance everytime she goes out of the party for a "bathroom break" will only solidify his dislike/discomfort, even if he doesn't show it.

Vil is also kind of self-explanatory if you read into his character and not just the shell the official English localization makes for him. (I could rant for hours about how the official tl portrays his character istg. He's hardworking and he actually didn't attempt to poison Neige out of pure jealousy, he did it because he felt like all his efforts to be beautiful will never be able to surpass Neige, who, in his eyes, always seemed to be innocent and naturally beautiful. He feels like the villain in Neige's story. He feels like he is reduced to what he often plays as, a snobbish, overconfident villain obsessed with overthrowing the hero. And because of it, it became a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy, pushing him to, in a fit of despair, be that same villain everyone sees him as.) I really don't think he will take well to R's condescension to Yuu, who genuinely wants to befriend R. (I actually have a whole thing in my head where Yuu and Vil occasionally have sleepovers where they do skincare together after the whole VDC thing happened. I feel like this is also a "vent sesh" of sorts for the both of them, just to air out their grievances without much seriousness, and I think Yuu would admit to wanting a fellow girl in the school that she could befriend, since no matter what, being the only girl can be exhausting.) Ik Vil's not a girl but he is such a girls' girl istg.

Idia... this mostly ties into Ortho and The STYX Incident, but like,, I think we can all agree on this one,, Idia is smart and capital V Very pessimistic. Would you rather trust the girl you've known for a while, who saw your memories, who helped you in awkward social situations when she can and is besties with your brother or some random new girl who trash talks said girl behind her back? The former, right? Plus, even if Yuu did only hang out with him and his brother because she likes to secretly laugh at him behind his back, there's mo guarantee R wouldn't do the same, given his experience. And he would rather have someone who actively helps him and his brother out than someone who wouldn't.

I didn't put Malleus in because of how canon him actually treats Yuu. I feel like the fandom kind of put on rose-tinted glasses on with his character, and kind of ignored some things like, idk... him just leaving them to fend for themselves homeless during Octavinelle... maybe he thought Crowley would offer them a place to stay but like... I'm still bothered by how didn't atleast offer a spare room in Diasomnia. He's a housewarden goddamnit. He's not as distant or scary as the rumours say but like. still rubbed me the wrong way.

Anyways I don't think my attention span will let me write it to completion so if anyone likes this and wants to write it feel free. Pls tag me if you do tho. I would love to read it :3

#was listening to all eyes on me while writing this btw #You can also insert an Obey Me crossover with Replaced AU on that end that also ended horribly #“First' the worst; maybe third's the charm!”#I don't play Obey Me though so I can't rlly construct the narrative for that one #Also I don't hate Malleus nor Malleyuu I swear #I just think we're a bit biased with his actions sometimes...#Anyways if anyone wants to just ditch the school for RSA #Valid. You're 100% valid #I just got attached to Adeuce Kalim and Vil lol #I would just run to RSA if I ever get the chance tho #Fuck Crowley noone likes Crowley 🙂😇#twisted wonderland #twst #Do I tag twst x reader???#fuck it why not it's literally based on an entire angst au anyways #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #replaced au #twst replaced au #twisted wonderland replaced au #okay enough tags I'm tired #I'm not gonna tag the specific characters mentioned #I'm too tired and I don't wanna :3 #Also R is used for Replacer for this entire thing sorry #I haven't played twst for a long; looooong while but I like some of the boys too much to let go [sigh]#Also just bc it's fun to think about #Waiting for Limbus or HSR to get updated so take some twst brainrot in the meantime #I love Villainess manhwas #Ofc I would love Replaced AUs

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