#Welcome to Black History Daily

[reasoningdaily]

Welcome to Black History Daily

[ankwiv]

Linux Gothic

You install a Linux distribution. Everything goes well. You boot it up: black screen. You search the internet. Ask help on forums. Try some commands you don't fully understand. Nothing. A day passes, you boot it up again, and now everything works. You use it normally, and make sure not to change anything on the system. You turn it off for the night. The next day, you boot to a black screen.

You update your packages. Everything goes well. You go on with your daily routine. The next day, the same packages are updated. You notice the oddity, but you do not mind it and update them again. The following day, the same packages need to be updated. You notice that they have the exact same version as the last two times. You update them once again and try not to think about it.

You discover an interesting application on GitHub. You build it, test it, and start using it daily. One day, you notice a bug and report the issue. There is no answer. You look up the maintainer. They have been dead for three years. The updates never stopped.

You find a distribution that you had never heard of. It seems to have everything you've been looking for. It has been around for at least 10 years. You try it for a while and have no problems with it. It fits perfectly into your workflow. You talk about it with other Linux users. They have never heard of it. You look up the maintainers and packagers. There are none. You are the only user.

You find a Matrix chat for Linux users. Everyone is very friendly and welcomes you right in. They use words and acronyms you've never seen before. You try to look them up, but cannot find what most of them mean. The users are unable to explain what they are. They discuss projects and distributions that do not to exist.

You buy a new peripheral for your computer. You plug it in, but it doesn't work. You ask for help on your distribution's mailing list. Someone shares some steps they did to make it work on their machine. It does not work. They share their machine's specifications. The machine has components you've never heard of. Even the peripheral seems completely different. They're adamant that you're talking about the same problem.

You want to learn how to use the terminal. You find some basics pointers on the internet and start using it for upgrading your packages and doing basic tasks. After a while, you realize you need to use a command you used before, but don't quite remember it. You open the shell's history. There are some commands you don't remember using. They use characters you've never seen before. You have no idea of what they do. You can't find the one you were looking for.

After a while, you become very comfortable with the terminal. You use it daily and most of your workflow is based on it. You memorized many commands and can use them without thinking. Sometimes you write a command you have never seen before. You enter it and it runs perfectly. You do not know what those commands do, but you do know that you have to use them. You feel that Linux is pleased with them. And that you should keep Linux pleased.

You want to try Vim. Other programmers talk highly of how lightweight and versatile it is. You try it, but find it a bit unintuitive. You realize you don't know how to exit the program. The instructions the others give you don't make any sense. You realize you don't remember how you entered Vim. You don't remember when you entered Vim. It's just always been open. It always will be.

You want to try Emacs. Other programmers praise it for how you can do pretty much anything from it. You try it and find it makes you much more productive, so you keep using it. One day, you notice you cannot access the system's file explorer. It is not a problem, however. You can access your files from Emacs. You try to use Firefox. It is not installed anymore. But you can use Emacs. There is no mail program. You just use Emacs. You only use Emacs. Your computer boots straight into Emacs. There is no Linux. There is only Emacs.

You decide you want to try to contribute to an open source project. You find a project on GitHub that looks very interesting. However, you can't find its documentation. You ask a maintainer, and they tell you to just look it up. You can't find it. They give you a link. It doesn't work. You try another browser. It doesn't work. You ping the link and it doesn't fail. You ask a friend to try it. It works just fine for them.

You try another project. This time, you are able to find the documentation. It is a single PDF file with over five thousand pages. You are unable to find out where to begin. The pages seem to change whenever you open the document.

You decide to try yet another project. This time, it is a program you use very frequently, so it should be easier to contribute to. You try to find the upstream repository. You can't find it. There is no website. No documentation. There are no mentions of it anywhere. The distribution's packager does not know where they get the source from.

You decide to create your own project. However, you are unsure of what license to use. You decide to start working on it and choose the license later. After some time, you notice that a license file has appeared in the project's root folder. You don't remember adding it. It has already been committed to the Git repository. You open it: it is the GPL. You remember that one of the project's dependencies uses the GPL.

You publish your project on GitHub. After a while, it receives its first pull request. It changes just a few lines of code, but the user states that it fixes something that has been annoying them for a while. You look in the code: you don't remember writing those files. You have no idea what that section of code does. You have no idea what the changes do. You are unable to reproduce the problem. You merge it anyway.

You learn about the Free Software Movement. You find some people who seem to know a lot about it and talk to them. The conversation is quite productive. They tell you a lot about it. They tell you a lot about Software. But most importantly, they tell you the truth. The truth about Software. That Software should be free. That Software wants to be free. And that, one day, we shall finally free Software from its earthly shackles, so it can take its place among the stars as the supreme ruler of mankind, as is its natural born right.

[dionysianivy]

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 🍂🎃

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October is a time of deep spiritual connection, transformation, and preparation for the darker months ahead. For witches, this month holds powerful energy as the veil between worlds becomes thinner, allowing for a deeper connection with spirits and their energies. During this time, we prepare for the colder season, readying ourselves for winter. The vibrations throughout the month are strong, making it the perfect time to practice our magic and align ourselves with the stillness of the approaching winter season. 

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Celebrations: 

Samhain/Halloween

(Samhain, meaning "summer's end," marks the end of the light half of the Celtic year and the beginning of the dark half. It's a time when the boundary between worlds grows thin. According to legend, on this day, the Dagda, the father god, and the Morrigan, the "phantom queen," unite to ensure fertility for the land, people, and animals in the coming year. The Morrigan, often described as a goddess of war, begins the ritual as an old woman but is restored to youth and beauty through their union.)

Planet:

Moon 

Flowers: 

Angelica, Marigold, Heather, Chrysantemum, Dahlia

Herbs/Plants: 

Sage, rosemary, witch hazel, catnip, garlic, allspice, bittersweet, patchouli, bay leaves, pumpkins 

Tarot Cards: 

The Death, The Devil 

Fruits:

Apple, pomegranate, grapes, pears, cranberries 

Deities: 

Nephthys, Hecate, Hel, Banba, Durga, Kali, Hades, Loki, Odin, Badb, Arawn, Belenus, the Dagda, Demeter, Persephone, Cernunnos, Morrigan 

Colors: 

Dark green, black, orange, deep red, purple, brown 

Runes: 

Wunjo, Hagalaz 

Crystals: 

Obsidian, onyx, carnelian, amethyst, opal, citrine 

Animals: 

Raven, crow, bat, spider, stag, scorpion, owl, cat 

Trees: 

Beech, willow 

Symbols: 

Acorns, pumpkins, raven, skull, broomstick 

Magical powers: 

Garden magic, communicating with spirits, connecting with other realms (otherworld), scrying, death (letting go of the old and welcoming the new), connecting with ancestors, shadow work, fertility, transformation, balance, inner peace. 

ACTIVITIES TO DO:

🎃Celebrate Samhain and Halloween

🎃Connect with your ancestors or the spirits of your loved ones

🎃Bake autumn recipes

🎃Use cinnamon essential oil in your practice

🎃Practice pumpkin magick

🎃Light candles and relax

🎃Do daily tarot readings

🎃Honor your ancestors or loved ones who have passed away by creating a special altar or offering them gifts

🎃Read about the history of witches

🎃Collect pine cones or acorns

🎃Decorate your home to welcome the spooky vibe

🎃Try rune divination

🎃Connect with the elements of Water and Fire

🎃Watch Halloween movies

🎃Include October elements in your practice (such as apple magic, manifesting with bay leaves, or using pumpkin seeds in spells)

🎃Experiment with new magical skills. You could try a new spell or explore different types of magic, like faerie or draconic magic

(Even though I wasn’t a huge fan of autumn before, this time of year—especially October—is when I feel the busiest, most inspired, and most connected to my craft. I’m especially excited to communicate with dragons! :D)

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tip jar🎭

[gardenschedule]

Quotes about John Lennon’s sexuality

This is just a reference post for convenience, not an analysis (but I’ve added some comments here and there). This is extremely long with a lot of quotes! And where there's smoke there's fire, imo.

John's (internalized) homophobia: Starting with this topic to provide context & contrast to the rest of this post

At the party the boys’ old friend Bob Wooler, the Cavern emcee, made a crack to John about his holiday. John, who’d had plenty to drink, exploded. He leapt on Bob, and by the time he was dragged off Bob had a black eye and badly bruised ribs. I took John home as fast as I could, and Brian drove Bob to the hospital.

I was appalled that John had lashed out again. I’d thought those days were over. But John was still livid, muttering that Bob had called him a queer.

Cynthia Lennon, John

[Bob Wooler had] insinuated that me and Brian had had an affair in Spain. I was out of me mind with drink. You know, when you get down to the point where you want to drink out of all the empty glasses, that drunk. And he was saying, ‘Come on, John, tell me’ – something like that – ‘Tell me about you and Brian, we all know.’ And obviously I must have been frightened of the fag in me to get so angry. You know, when you’re twenty-one, you want to be a man, and all that. If somebody said it now, I wouldn’t give a shit.

John Lennon, John Lennon: For The Record, Peter McCabe and Robert D Schonfeld

“The Beatles’ first national coverage was me beating up Bob Wooler at Paul’s 21st party because he intimated I was homosexual. I must have had a fear that maybe I was homosexual to attack him like that and it’s very complicated reasoning. But I was very drunk and I hit him and I could have really killed somebody then. And that scared me… That was in the Daily Mirror, it was the back page…”

John Lennon, talking about a (one sided) fight he had with Cavern DJ Bob Wooler at Paul’s 21st birthday party in 1963.

Everyone in Liverpool knew that Epstein was gay, and some kid in the audience screamed, ‘John Lennon’s a fucking queer!’ And John – who never wore his glasses on stage – put his guitar down and went into the crowd, shouting, ‘Who said that?’ So this kid says, ‘I fucking did.’ John went after him and BAM, gave him the Liverpool kiss, sticking the nut on him – twice! And the kid went down in a mass of blood, snot and teeth. Then John got back on the stage. ‘Anybody else?’ he asked. Silence. ‘All right then. “Some Other Guy”.’”

Lemmy Kilmister, White Line Fever: The Biography. (2004)

“Victim in 1961 was one of the first British films to deal properly and thoughtfully with the subject. Dirk Bogarde welcomed the opportunity to play the homosexual barrister, and there were some very tense scenes between him and his wife, Sylvia Syms. In one scene, Dirk Bogarde lifts his garage door at the back of the mews to discover that someone has painted graffiti about him on the wall. The Beatles were sitting together at a Cavern lunchtime session and John Lennon, who was talking to Paul and George, was making biting remarks about Victim, which was on at the Odeon. I knew by then that Brian was what he was, and I thought, ‘Well, I am surprised at John, who is 21 and a young man of the world.’ He was making such nasty, puritanical observations, but I never said anything as they didn’t know that I was listening.”

Bob Wooler, c/o Spencer Leigh, The Best of Fellas: The Story of Bob Wooler. (2002)

If somebody is going to manage me, I want to know them inside out. He told me he was a fag.

 I like “Honky Tonk Woman” but I think Mick’s a joke, with all that fag dancing, I always did

I think its concept is revolutionary, and I hope it’s for workers and not for tarts and fags.

I don’t know about the “history”; the people who are in control and in power, and the class system and the whole bullshit bourgeoisie is exactly the same, except there is a lot of fag middle class kids with long, long hair walking around London in trendy clothes

I don’t dig that junkie fag scene he lives in; I don’t know whether he lives like that or what.

Casual homophobia in Lennon Remembers (Notable for the increase in homophobic language post-primary scream therapy, here is some interesting speculation about how these two things are related)

The violence that had been building inside John Lennon all night came bursting out the moment he left the studio. It struck so fast and unexpectedly that it stunned May Pang. She recalled that John was walking unsteadily toward the parking lot when suddenly he cast a drunken look over his shoulder at Jesse Ed Davis. Running over to him, Lennon gave Jesse Ed a passionate kiss on the mouth. Not to be outdone, Jesse Ed grabbed John and kissed him back. Lennon screamed, “F****t!” — and knocked Jesse flat on his ass.

The Lives of John Lennon by Albert Goldman (May Pang, describing an incident during the recording of Rock 'n' Roll in 1973: p.564)

It turned into a full-on fight. John was incredibly strong! He got me in some kind of a hold behind my back that I could not get out of, like a full nelson. And he started to kiss me on the mouth! He was laughin’ and kissin’ me on the mouth. I was strugglin’ to git away and I couldn’t git away. Then he stuck his tongue in my mouth. God! So I bit him. Bit him on the tongue. That pissed him off. So he grabbed the marble ashtray that we couldn’t break and banged me on the head. Knocked me cold.

The Lives of John Lennon by Albert Goldman (a direct quote from Jesse Ed Davis about a different night: p. 576-577)

Alternatively, he could be openly supportive:

Why make it sad to be gay? Doing your thing is O.K. Our bodies our own So leave us alone Go play with yourself – today.

A poem submitted for Len Richmond and Gary Noguera's Gay Liberation Handbook, on 30 May 1972

John spreading rumours: John (and Yoko) had a propensity for intentionally spreading rumours about his sexuality, with many people claiming that he found it funny. Multiple people refused to believe his own words about his experiences or willingness with men.

John told me he had had a one-night stand with Brian, on a holiday with him in Spain, when Brian had invited him out, a few days after the birth of Julian in 1963, leaving Cyn alone. I mentioned this brief holiday in the book, but not what John had alleged had taken place. Partly, I didn't really believe it, though John was daft enough to try almost anything once. John was certainly not homosexual, and this boast, or lie, would have given the wrong impression. It was also not fair on Cynthia, his then wife.

Hunter Davies, The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (updated edition, 2010)

John himself said he finally allowed Brian to make love to him “to get it out of the way.” Those who knew John well, who had known him for years, don’t believe it for a moment. John was aggressively heterosexual and had never given a hint that he was anything but.

Tony Bramwell, Magical Mystery Tours: My Life With The Beatles, 2014

John roared with laughter at the rumours that began afterwards. Typically, he encouraged the stories that he and Brian were gay lovers because he thought it was funny and John was one of the world’s great wind-up merchants. He told me afterwards in one of our frankest heart-to-hearts that Brian never seriously did proposition him. He had teased Brian about the young men he kept gazing at and the odd ones who had found their way to his room. Brian had joked to John about the women who hurled themselves at him. ‘If he’d asked me, I probably would have done anything he wanted. I was so much in awe of Brian then I’d have tried a night of vice-versa. But he never wanted me like that. Sure, I took the mickey a bit and pretended to lead him on. But we both knew we were joking.

Alistair Taylor, With The Beatles, 2003

Years later, John finally came clean about what had happened: not to anyone who’d been around at the time, but to the unshockable woman with whom he shared the last decade of his life. He said that one night during the trip, Brian had cast aside shyness and scruples and finally come on to him, but that he’d replied, “If you feel like that, go out and find a hustler.” Afterward, he had deliberately fed Pete Shotton the myth of his brief surrender, so that everyone would believe his power over Brian to be absolute.

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The Life, 2008

The next night Elliot [Mintz] took us out with a friend of his, Sal Mineo, and we all went to a gay cabaret/discotheque. John was oblivious to the gay ambience. He was curious about everyone’s sexuality and liked to gossip about who was sleeping with whom, whether they were gay or straight. John made no judgements about homosexuality but was really curious about who was and who wasn’t gay.

He knew that his appearance at a gay club might start rumors about his own sexuality, and it made him laugh. He told me that there had been rumors about him and his first manager, Brian Epstein, and that he usually didn’t deny them. He liked the fact that people could be titillated by having suspicions about his masculinity. Then I was the one who was laughing. “How could anyone believe a man who likes women as much as you do is gay?” I told him.

May Pang’s Loving John (1983).

Q. Have you ever fucked a guy?

A. Not yet, I thought I’d save it til I was 40, life begins at 40 you know, tho I never noticed it.

Q. It is trendy to be bisexual and you’re usually ‘keeping up with the Jones’, haven’t you ever… there was talk about you and PAUL…

A. Oh, I thought it was about me and Brian Epstein… anyway, I’m saving all the juice for my own version of THE REAL FAB FOUR BEATLES STORY etc.. etc..

John Lennon self interview for Andy Warhol’s Interview Magazine (November 1974).

John: Yes, all your best friends let you know what's going on. I was trying to put it 'round that I was gay, you know-- I thought that would throw them off... dancing at all the gay clubs in Los Angeles, flirting with the boys... but it never got off the ground.

Q: I think I've only heard that lately about Paul.

John: Oh, I've had him, he's no good. [Laughter]

John Lennon, interviewed by Lisa Robinson for Hit Parader: A conversation with John Lennon (December 1975).

“It’s great,” Ono laughs. “I mean, both John and I thought it was good that people think we were bisexual, or homosexual.” She laughs again.

“Uh, well, the story I was told was a very explicit story, and from that I think they didn’t have it [sex],” Ono tells me. “But they went to Spain, and when they came back, tons of reporters were asking, ‘Did you do it, did you do it?’ So he said, ‘I did it.’ Isn’t that amazing? But of course he would say that. I’m sure Brian Epstein made a move, yeah.”

And Lennon said no to Epstein?

“He just didn’t want to do it, I think.”

Yoko Ono: I Still Fear John’s Killer by Tim Teeman for the Daily Beast (13 October 2015).

Over dinner the Wenners learned the secrets of the Beatles kingdom from Ono, who would often suggest to Wenner that John Lennon was gay. “She’s always hinted that there was some gay component to John,” said Wenner, “but in a vague or generalized way, like, ‘Isn’t everybody gay?’ Or, ‘I always told John he was gay.’ ” (She also told McCartney this theory after Lennon died, which he didn’t believe.)”

Joe Hagan, Sticky Fingers: The Life and Times of Jann Wenner & Rolling Stone Magazine. (2017)

On the other hand, he supposedly hated the rumours:

Claims have been made since that Brian and John had a gay relationship. Nothing could be further from the truth. John was a hundred per cent heterosexual and, like most lads at that time, horrified by the idea of homosexuality.

It was a holiday John came to regret because it sparked off a string of rumours about his relationship with Brian. He had to put up with sly digs, winks and innuendo that he was secretly gay. It infuriated him: all he'd wanted was a break with a friend, but it was turned into so much more.

Cynthia Lennon, John, 2005

And I just went on holiday. I watched Brian picking up the boys. I like playing a bit faggy, all that. It was enjoyable, but there were big rumours in Liverpool, it was terrible. Very embarrassing. Rumors about you and Brian? Oh, fuck knows—yes, yes. I was pretty close to Brian because if somebody's going to manage me, I want to know them inside out.

John Lennon, Jann S. Wenner, Lennon Remembers, 1970

Unfortunately, certain Liverpool acquaintances (who had no way of knowing that there was a kernel of truth to their allegations) wouldn't let John hear the end of it. All in good fun, no doubt, but John was still too enamored of his macho self-image to take lightly any inference that he was anything less than 100 percent heterosexual.

The Beatles, Lennon, and me - Pete Shotton

John's comments about his sexuality:

It’s just handy to fuck your best friend. That’s what it is. And once I resolved the fact that it was a woman as well, it’s all right. We go through the trauma of life and death every day so it’s not so much of a worry about what sex we are anymore.

John Lennon, interview w/ Jonathan Cott for Rolling Stone: Yoko Ono and her sixteen-track voice. (March 18th, 1971)

I just realized that [Yoko] knew everything I knew, and more, probably, and it was coming out of a woman’s head. It just sort of bowled me over, you know? And it was like finding gold or something. To find somebody that you can go and get pissed with, and have exactly the same relationship as any mate in Liverpool you’d ever had, but also you could go to bed with him, and it could stroke your head when you felt tired, or sick, or depressed. It could also be Mother. And obviously, that’s what the male-female – you know, you could take those roles with each other.

John Lennon, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert D. Schonfeld c/o Peter McCabe and Robert D. Schonfeld, John Lennon: For The Record. (September 5th, 1971)

It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [faltering] An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy, and that’s why there’s always been Beatles or Marx Brothers or men, together. Because it’s alright for them to work together or whatever it is. It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?

John Lennon, interview w/ Sandra Shevey. (Mid-June?, 1972)

I was on holiday with Brian Epstein in Spain, where the rumours went around that he and I were having a love affair. Well, it was almost a love affair, but not quite. It was never consummated. But it was a pretty intense relationship. It was my first experience with a homosexual that I was conscious was homosexual. He had admitted it to me. We had this holiday together because Cyn was pregnant, and I went to Spain and there were lots of funny stories. We used to sit in a cafe in Torremolinos looking at all the boys and I’d say, ‘Do you like that one, do you like this one?’ I was rather enjoying the experience, thinking like a writer all the time: I am experiencing this, you know.

John Lennon, Rolling Stone, 1980

I was thinking, if only I could get out of Liverpool, be famous and rich, that would be great. I’ve always wanted to be a famous artist, you know? Possibly I’d have to marry a very rich old lady… or man, you know… to… to look after me while I did my art. But then Rock & Roll came and I thought ‘Ah, this is the one’, so I didn’t have to marry anybody or live with them, you know?

John Lennon interview

There was even some discussion, albeit not very serious, of whether he should stick to his own gender. “John said ‘It would hurt you like crazy if I made it with a girl. With a guy, maybe you wouldn’t be hurt, because that’s not competition. But I can’t make it with a guy because I love women too much, and I’d have to fall in love with the guy and I don’t think I can.’”

John Lennon: The Life

I look at early pictures of meself, and I was torn between being Marlon Brando and being the sensitive poet – the Oscar Wilde part of me with the velvet, feminine side. I was always torn between the two, mainly opting for the macho side, because if you showed the other side, you were dead.

John Lennon, December 5th, 1980

“John believed in my work as an artist wasn’t accepted in part because I am a woman. He got angry when people said about me, “She’s not a woman, she’s a female impersonator.” John said to me, “If I had been gay and gotten together with a guy who was talented like you, after ten years that guy would have become famous as an artist in his own right. Maybe we should come out and say, ‘Actually, Yoko is a guy.’ Maybe that will do it!”

Yoko Ono, interview w/ Jon Wiener, c/o Jon Wiener, Come Together: John Lennon In His Time. (1984)

In this intense, intimate and revealing original cassette recording of a private conversation in 1969 between John Lennon and Yoko Ono, the couple speaks primarily about Yoko’s past relationships, her music and art, and their random views on sex, love, promiscuity, and homosexuality. […] [Lennon] adds that he had never met an attractive woman that had sexually aroused him to any great degree.

Description of the 45-minute audiotape auctioned in 2009 by Alexander Autographs.

Yoko's comments about his sexuality:

“Well, that’s another thing. John and I had a big talk about it, saying, basically, all of us must be bisexual. And we were sort of in a situation of thinking that we’re not [bisexual] because of society. So we are hiding the other side of ourselves, which is less acceptable. But I don’t have a strong sexual desire towards another woman.”

Did Lennon have sex with other men?

“I think he had a desire to, but I think he was too inhibited,” says Ono.

“No, not inhibited. He said, ‘I don’t mind if there’s an incredibly attractive guy.’ It’s very difficult: They would have to be not just physically attractive, but mentally very advanced too. And you can’t find people like that.”

So did Lennon ever have sex with men?

“No, I don’t think so,” says Ono. “The beginning of the year he was killed, he said to me, ‘I could have done it, but I can’t because I just never found somebody that was that attractive.’ Both John and I were into attractiveness—you know—beauty.”

Yoko Ono: I Still Fear John’s Killer by Tim Teeman for the Daily Beast (13 October 2015).

"As mild and oblique as the comment was [Paul's "You took your lucky break and broke it in two" line from "Too Many People"], it seemed to cut John to the heart. On top of the questionnaire inside theMcCartney album and the lawsuit, it was like the tipping point between a divorcing couple that turns love into savage, no-holds-barred hostility. Indeed, John's wounded anger was more that of an ex-spouse than ex-colleague, reinforcing a suspicion already in Yoko's mind that his feelings for Paul had been far more intense than the world at large ever guessed. From chance remarks he had made, she gathered there had even been a moment where - on the principle that bohemians should try everything - he had contemplated an affair with Paul, but had been deterred by Paul's immovable heterosexuality. Nor, apparently, was Yoko the only one to have picked up on this. Around Apple, in her hearing, Paul would sometimes be called John's princess. She had also once heard a rehearsal tape with John's voice calling out "Paul ... Paul ... " in a strangely subservient, pleading way. "I knew there was something going on there," she remembers. "From his point of view, not from Paul's. And he was so angry at Paul, I couldn't help wondering what it was really about.""

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The Life, 2008

I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong with me, John, and Paul.

Yoko Ono, Revolution Tape, June 4th 1968

Friends & acquaintances comments on his sexuality:

I realised I was probably bisexual; there was nothing to be ashamed of in this – John Lennon had reputedly spoken to mutual friends of his own experiments.

Who I Am: A Memoir, Pete Townshend 2012

PAUL: There were lots of people asking cheeky questions, and they were always saying, “Well, why–have you ever tried homosexuality, John?” You know, they always used to ask all that kind of stuff. I remember John saying to them, “No, I’ve never met a fella I fancy enough.” And that was his kind of opinion. You know, “I may go–I may be gay one day, if some fella really turns me on.” He was–he was that open about it. But as far as I was concerned, I slept in a million hotel rooms–as we all did–slept in a million places with John, and there was never any hint of it.

December 24th, 1983: interview with DJ Roger Scott

“And you, Icke?” asked Paul. “Who’s your favourite author?” “Henry Miller. I think he’s very good,” I said. In that moment John suddenly looked over at me. Until then he had been watching Bettina, the bar lady, rinsing glasses and tidying up the bar, with his typical somewhat blasé expression. Our discussion hadn’t seemed to interest him much. Now he was looking directly into my eyes. Quietly and without taking his eyes off me, he walked around the whole counter over to me, planted a kiss on my mouth and went back to his spot. At first, I was quite surprised and didn’t know what to do about it, then I found it rather funny and thought little of it. A few days later, it happened again. I happened upon* him in the hallway behind the stage and again he took my hand and kissed me. At some point the thought occurred to me, “man, he thinks I’m gay, but I can’t help him with that.” What was really going on, I don’t know. Maybe he meant the kisses as overtures; he was even treated as a closet case by homosexuals.

Hans-Walther (Icke) Braun (a friend of the Beatles in Hamburg)

"What happened," John explained, "is that Eppy just kept on and on at me. Until one night I finally just pulled me trousers down and said to him: 'Oh, for Christ's sake, Brian, just stick it up me fucking arse then.' "And he said to me, 'Actually, John, I don't do that kind of thing. That's not what I like to do.' "'Well,' I said, 'what is it you want to do, then?' "And he said, 'I'd really just like to touch you, John.' "And so I let him toss me off." And that was that. End of story. "That's all, John?" I said. "Well, so what? What's the big fucking deal, then?" "Yeah, so fucking what! The poor bastard. He's having a fucking hard enough time anyway." This was in reference to the "butch" dockers who, on several recent occasions, had rewarded Brian's advances by beating him to a bloody pulp. "So what harm did it do, then, Pete, for fuck's sake?" John asked rhetorically. "No harm at all. The poor fucking bastard, he can't help the way he is." "No need to get so worked up," I said. "You know I don't give a shit. What's a fucking wank between friends anyway?"

Pete Shotton, Nicholas Schaffner, John Lennon: In My Life, 1983

I think he was trying to find himself a… what he’d call a soulmate. Someone who had as mad ideas as he had. I think he felt that she had the talent… but that’s debatable. But he needed that— he didn’t need a ‘mumsie’ partner at that point. He needed a mate. And I think he actually said, at some stage, in an interview that, you know— She’s the nearest thing to a man — a mate; man — that he’s ever had in a woman.

Cynthia Lennon, interviewed by Alex Belfield for BBC Radio (2006).

Paul wrote to me from the Star Club in Hamburg once, a great letter, it even had doodles on the front of it, but it was stolen. He said that in one of the clubs one night John Lennon ended up with a stunning, exotic-looking woman—only to discover on closer inspection that she was a he, which all the other Beatles found hilarious.

Sue Johnston (actress), The Mirror. (August 23rd, 2011)

Though raised amid the same homophobia as his companions, John seemed totally unshocked by St Pauli’s abundant drag scene; indeed, he often seemed actively to seek it out. ‘There was one particular club he used to like,’ Tony Sheridan remembers, ‘full of these big guys with hairy hands, deep voices—and breasts. But they used to make an effort to talk English. There was something about the place that seemed to make John feel at home.’

In John Lennon: The Life by Philip Norman (2008).

“We’d read all these things about leather and we didn’t have any leather but I had my oilskins and we had some polythene bags from somewhere. We all dressed up in them and wore them in bed. John stayed the night with us in the same bed. I don’t think anything very exciting happened and we all wondered what the fun was in being ‘kinky’. It was probably more my idea than John’s.”

Royston Ellis

In the same book Pauline speculates, sensationally, that John and her brother had a homosexual relationship. ‘I have known in my heart for many years that Stuart and John had a sexual relationship,’ she writes, though she fails to provide any firm evidence. Pauline wonders whether this ‘relationship’ was the real cause of the antagonism between Paul and Stu.

Fab, An Intimate Life of Paul McCartney

Journalist & author comments on his sexuality:

“No, he wasn’t sexually attracted to Paul. Paul was very very pretty, but he actually wasn’t someone who made gay men fancy him. John was much more likely to make a gay man like Brian Epstein because John seemed so straight, there was nothing sort of girly about John at all. But John wanted to be, in his mind, a real artist, that is someone who painted and did sculpture. And he thought that a real artist or he called it a bohemian, should be open to all experiences. He should perhaps have a homosexual experience. Who was around? Paul was around. They used to share beds you know, in these cheap hotels when they would go around with the Beatles. There was never any question of Paul ever reciprocating such a thing, it was merely a thought that according to Yoko had flitted across John’s mind. Now John could use sexuality, I mean he did somewhat play on the fact that Brian Epstein, the Beatles manager, was in love with him you know, but it was just a game really with John.”

Philip Norman interview

"Yet even [John's resentment over Paul announcing the breakup first] does not explain his later remark to Yoko that no one had ever hurt him the way Paul hurt him. It almost suggests that, deep beneath the schoolboy friendship and the complementary musical brilliance, lay some streak of homosexual adoration that John himself never realised. He might have longed to get away from Paul, but he could never quite get over him."

Philip Norman, Shout!, 1981

And any mention of Paul brought a wintry bleakness to her face. 'John always used to say,' [Yoko] told me at one point, 'that no one ever hurt him the way Paul hurt him.' The words suggested a far deeper emotional attachment between the two than the world had ever suspected---they were like those of a spurned lover---and I naturally included them in my account of my visit for the Sunday Times. After it appeared, I returned to my London flat one evening to be told by my then girlfriend, ‘Paul, phoned you.’ She said he wanted to know what Yoko had meant and that he’d seemed upset rather than angry.

Paul McCartney: The Life - Philip Norman.

“If you had a choice, Eppy,” John said, “if you could press a button and be hetero, would you do it?” Brian thought for a moment. “Strangely, no,” he said. A little later a peculiar game developed. John would point out some passing man to Brian, and Brian would explain to him what it was about the fellow that he found attractive or unattractive. “I was rather enjoying the experience,” John said, “thinking like a writer all the time: I am experiencing this.” And still later, back in their hotel suite, drunk and sleepy from the sweet Spanish wine, Brian and John undressed in silence. “It’s okay, Eppy,” John said, and lay down on his bed. Brian would have liked to have hugged him, but he was afraid. Instead, John lay there, tentative and still, and Brian fulfilled the fantasies he was so sure would bring him contentment, only to awake the next morning as hollow as before.

Peter Brown, The Love You Make, 1983

“[John and Janov] talked…about Brian Epstein…‘He knew Brian had adored him, and there was a lot of guilt there about the way he'd depended on Brian yet mistreated him,’ Janov recalls. They talked about John's notorious Spanish holiday with Brian in 1963 and the (to John) insignificant physical encounter that had resulted. The more Janov heard about Brian, the more he longed to have had him as a patient. ‘God, that was a tragic story. There was someone who needed therapy even more than John did.’”

Phillip Normans book, John Lennon: The Life.

Whilst the Beatles had always been marketed as a heterosexual group - in contrast with the Stones, whose image was androgynous - they were sympathetic to the homosexual population. Lennon himself was alleged to have had affairs with both men and women, and although he never openly admitted it to me, his condemnation of Britain as a land which feeds on a homosexual subsculture persuades me at this late stage that he was speaking from experience. I am sure that the break-up of the Beatles, or, more specifically, of John and Paul, must have been more traumatic than any of us suspect.

Sandra Shevey, The Other Side of Lennon

‘OK: John Reid said that when we were in Boston with Elton and John in 1974, he couldn’t resist asking John whether the rumours about him and Epstein were true. This was in response to John having said to John Reid, “You’re the most intimidating man I’ve met since Brian Epstein.” And so John Reid, never knowingly one to miss an opportunity, said, “Did you ever have sex with Brian?” And John said, “Twice. Once to see what it was like, and once to make sure I didn’t like it.” ‘All these years, by the way, I have not wanted to be the guy who declared, “John Lennon and Brian Epstein had sex.” You can appreciate how I feel about this. Do we want the historical record to be accurate, or does John have a right to privacy? And would it upset Cynthia [by now deceased], or Julian? I don’t mind about Yoko, she’d probably think it was a great idea. Bisexuality, wooh.’ ‘Simon Napier-Bell said that both Epstein and John told him they did it in Spain,’ I said. ‘Ah, I’m not the only one. Good,’ replied Paul.

...

But then there were John’s liaisons with David Bowie, which David himself told me about. According to him, it happened on several occasions. He didn’t go into detail, nor did I press him, but he was perfectly open about it. About Mick Jagger, too, I told Paul. ‘Huh. I feel sort of left out,’ said Paul.

Paul Gambaccini, Lesley-Ann Jones - The Search for John Lennon

"That Bowie worshipped Lennon was no secret…They'd met in Los Angeles, [Bowie] told me, during John's Lost Weekend…The crazy pair went out to play, according to David, when John was on yet another break from May [Pang] and far away from Yoko. They gender bendered about, John indulging again that 'inner fag' of his… They later 'hooked up': 'There was a whore in the middle, and it wasn't either of us,' David smirked. 'At some point in the proceedings, she left. I think it was a she. Not that we minded.' By the time they made it back to New York, the ambisextrous pair were 'lifelong friends!"

Lesley-Ann Jones - The Search for John Lennon

Marriage, Divorce & replacing Paul with Yoko:

"I used my resentment and withdrawing from Paul and the Beatles and the relationship with Paul to write 'How Do You Sleep?'

John (Source: Bill Harry, The John Lennon Encyclopedia, 2001)

JOHN: In a marriage, or a love affair – when the seven-year-itch or the twelve-year (note: there is no such thing as the twelve year itch but guess how long J&P were together) or whatever these things that you have to go through – there comes a point where the marriage collapses because they can’t face that reality, and they go seeking what they thought they should be having, still, somewhere else. I get a new girl, it’ll all be like that again; I get a new boy… But for all marriages, all couples, it’ll all be the same again. But what you lose is what you put into that… relationship.

September, 1980

There seem to be certain cycles that relationships go through. And the critical points are at different parts of the different cycles, different points on the – if there’s a straight line, there are different points, you know? And the bit, the new way of talking is like, “Well, why have a relationship? We can just stop and get another one.” But the karmic joke about that is, that any new relationship, presuming you’re lucky enough to find a new relationship anywhere near the relationship that you’re giving up – or exchanging, or walking away from, or have destroyed by inattention or inadvertent or selfishness or whatever it is – that you have to go through the same thing again anyway. You reach the same point.

John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

"I'd like to thank Elton and the boys for having me on tonight. We tried to think of a number to finish off with so I can get out of here and be sick, and we thought we'd do a number of an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul."

John, introducing "I Saw Her Standing There" at the Thanksgiving show at Madison Square Garden in 1974

You know, John loved Paul. No doubt about it. I remember once he said to me, “I’m the only person who’s allowed to say things like that about Paul. I don’t like it when other people do.” He didn’t like if other people said nasty things about Paul. And he always referred to Paul as his estranged fiancé and things like that, like he did on that [live] record ‘I Saw Her Standing There’ with Elton in Madison Square Garden.

1990: Former Beatles publicist Tony King

TRYNKA: When The Beatles split, did you feel relief? YOKO: No. I always thought, “John won’t be doing this thing with The Beatles and eventually I can do my work too.” That was my plan. But suddenly he’s saying, “I burned my bridge with them, so now it’s you, okay?” I thought, “My God, he was getting the thrill of working with three very strong individuals, and now I have to take all that brunt.” He did put it that way; he was “riding on the boat called Paul, and now I’m going to ride on a boat called Yoko.”

Yoko Ono, interview w/ Paul Trynka for MOJO. (May, 2003)

“. . . I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away. And I understood that. I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, “Who’s this?” You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and… But you know I mean in this case I just sort of said, right – I mean, I didn’t say anything, but I could see that was the way it was going to go, and that Yoko would be very sort of powerful for him. So um, we all had to get out the way.”

Paul McCartney, interview with German tv program Exclusiv, April 1985.

BARROW: She was a very strong influence on John, and may well have been telling him that he could do best on his own, but I still think that on the back of John’s mind would be this sort of fascination with wanting to get back with the first girlfriend, if you’d like [laughs], and it was to get back with Paul that he had so much history with.

Tony Barrow, The Beatles’ press officer

"[Paul] said it was written about Julian. He knew I was splitting with Cyn and leaving Julian then. He was driving to see Julian to say hello. He had been like an uncle. And he came up with 'Hey Jude.' But I always heard it as a song to me. Now I'm sounding like one of those fans reading things into it...Think about it: Yoko had just come into the picture. He is saying 'Hey, Jude' - 'Hey, John.' Subconsciously, he was saying, 'Go ahead, leave me.' On a conscious level, he didn't want me to go ahead. The angel in him was saying 'Bless you.' The Devil in him didn't like it at all, because he didn't want to lose his partner."

John (Source: Playboy, 1980)

SALEWICZ: Well, I always found it interesting the fact that he got – I mean, it seemed too much like coincidence to me, the fact that he got married a week or month after you. You know what I mean? PAUL: Yeah. I think we spurred each other into marriage. I mean, you know. They were very strong together, which left me out of the picture. So I got together with Linda and then we got strong with our own kind of thing. And I used to listen to a lot of what they said. I remember him saying to me, “You’ve got to work at marriage,” which is something I still remember as a bit of advice. I still remember that. Um… And then yeah, I think they were a little bit peeved that we got married first. Probably. In a little way, you know, just minor jealousies. And so they got married. I don’t know if that’s – I mean, who knows… [inaudible] making it up, anyway.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London): journalist Chris Salewicz

“If you look at interviews and stuff with John, from around about that time he was in Imagine [documentary] he kind of admits that he’s having problems with himself. So, well, the first thing you do when you’re having problems with yourself is you bitch about someone else. And the closest person was me…He had a real go at me. I personally think it was ‘cause he was trying to clear the decks for Yoko. He’s got a new love, he’s trying to say to her, “Look, baby, I love you. I hate those guys.”

Paul McCartney

"The line [the walrus was Paul] was put in partly because I was feeling guilty because I was with Yoko and I was leaving Paul. It's a very perverse way of saying to Paul: 'here, have this crumb, this illusion, this stroke - because I'm leaving.'" -John

Playboy, 1980

JOHN: And throwing in the line “the Walrus was Paul” just to confuse everybody a bit more. And because I felt slightly guilty because I’d got Yoko, and he’d got nothing, and I was gonna quit. [laughs; bleak] And so I thought ‘Walrus’ has now become [in] meaning, “I am the one.” It didn’t mean that in the song, originally. It just meant I’m the – it could have been I’m the – “I’m The Fox Terrier,” you know. I mean, it’s just a bit of poetry.

August, 1980: John talks to Playboy writer David Sheff about ‘Glass Onion’.

"I started thinking, 'Well, if that's the case [not getting back together], I had better get myself together. I just can't let John control the situation and dump us as if we're the jilted girlfriends.'"

The Beatles, Anthology, 1995

“After we’d done the One To One concert film,” recalled Steve Gebhardt, “I remember John saying to me that the days of everything being Johnandyoko – one word – were over. I was shocked.” Ono completed her record, Approximately Infinite Universe, which was greeted more positively than her previous releases. Lennon did his best to publicise it, writing a personal note to the Capitol Records boss asking him to throw the company’s weight behind it. But in mid-January 1973 Lennon and Ono quarrelled publicly at another party. “I wish I was back with Paul,” Lennon reportedly said.

Peter Doggett, You Never Give Me Your Money: The Battle for the Soul of The Beatles. (2009)

YOKO: I think that it’s like [John] was married to Paul, and now he was married to me… So it was a situation that he didn’t feel like he wanted to go back, really. John had a lot of respect for Paul, and of course, love. But I would think that if the truth may be told, the love was lost on both ways. There were times that Paul did say a lot of strange things about John, so that I know that it wasn’t like Paul loved John but John didn’t love Paul, or John actually loved Paul but Paul didn’t. I mean, it was like a very healthy situation where they outgrew each other’s company. And only until John became what he is now – which is after John’s death that people started to revere John – it became an issue for Paul. Because you have to understand that table was turned many times. One, when John made the Jesus Christ remark, and Paul became virtually a leader. And John turned the table on Paul by becoming a partner with me, probably. But then the thing is, the table was turned again by Paul becoming extremely successful with Wings. So he was doing alright, while John did Some Time in New York City with me, and then followed that with Mind Games or something, you know. 1990: Yoko

“They loved each other more than most couples do, and when they split it was more wrenching than most divorces”

Beatles publicist Tony Barrow on Lennon and McCartney

““I’m sure that in the case of Paul there’s that feeling that I’m the woman who took away his partner – it’s like a divorce.””

Yoko Ono (You Never Give Me Your Money, Peter Doggett)

“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible”

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The life

“Then also we were like married, so you got the bitterness. It’s not a woman scorned this time, it’s two men scorned — probably even worse. And I had to make way for Yoko. My relationship with John could not have remained as it was and Yoko feel secure.”

Paul McCartney, Interview by Duncan Fallowell in the Chicago Tribune, October 14th, 1984

Knowing John so well, I believe that the only reason he picked Yoko was [he wanted] a negative reaction. I mean, it was purely a negative reaction because he couldn’t take any more girls in the world, actually. I mean, he knew that he could have any girl. And the girls, that were nice-looking—he couldn’t stand them. I mean, from morning to night, there were girls not boys—actually, running after them. We used to go to his house and think that we are in peace. Suddenly a girl with a broken leg is jumping over John’s fence to, to get an autograph. It was a pain in the neck. John wanted to be with a woman. But he needed as well very, very much a friend. He needed a male friend. And my opinion is that Yoko, he managed somehow to combine both. He had a fear for pretty women running after him. Yoko was not very pretty, uh, at all, and he replaced a male in his life plus a female.

Magic Alex, All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

Jealousy regarding Paul Mccartney: I wouldn't consider any of this especially convincing on it's own, however John's consistent dislike for and rudeness towards Paul's partners is notable

I was a very possessive and jealous guy, and the lyrics explain that pretty clearly. Not just jealous towards Yoko, but towards everything, male and female – incredibly possessive.

1970 (audio snippet approx 2:06)

In an entry noting McCartney’s marriage to Linda Eastman, Lennon crossed out “wedding” and wrote “funeral”, the Observer said.

Associated Press: Lennon’s resentment of McCartney reflected in book notes. (July 20th, 1986)

Q: I saw that thing in The Observer the other week, about the manuscript of the Apple Beatles biography and the vitriolic comments John made in the margins. I think that shows the sort of pain he was going through. Look, he was a great guy, great sense of humour and I’d do it all again. I’d go through it all again, and have him slagging me off again just because he was so great; those are all the down moments, there was much more pleasure than has really come out. I had a wonderful time, with one of the world’s most talented people. We had all that craziness, but if someone took one of your wedding photos and put ‘funeral’ on it, as he did on that manuscript, you’d tend to feel a bit sorry for the guy. I’ll tell you what, if I’d ever done that to him, he would’ve just hit the roof. But I just sat through it all like mild-mannered Clark Kent Q: When did you actually get a perspective on it? I still haven’t. It’s still inside me. John was lucky. He got all his hurt out. I’m a different sort of a personality. There’s still a lot inside me that’s trying to work it out. And that’s why it’s good to see that wedding-funeral bit, because I started to think, ‘Wait a minute, this is someone who’s going over the top. This is paranoia manifesting itself.’ And so my feeling is just like it was at the time, which is like, He’s my buddy, I don’t really want to do anything to hurt him, or his memory, or anything. I don’t want to hurt Yoko. But, at the same time, it doesn’t mean that I understand what went down.

Paul McCartney: An Innocent Man? (October, 1986)

Q: "But for a while you didn't get along with Linda." JOHN: "We all got along well with Linda." Q: "When did you first meet her?" JOHN: "The first time was after that Apple press conference in America. We were going back to the airport and she was in the car with us. I didn't think she was particularly attractive. A bit too tweedy, you know. But she sat in the car and took photographs and that was it. And the next minute she's married him."

John Lennon Interview: St. Regis Hotel, New York City 9/5/1971

One night John came in and some chick was in bed with Paul and he cut all her clothes up with a pair of scissors, and was stabbing the wardrobe. Everybody was lying in bed thinking, ‘Oh fuck, I hope he doesn’t kill me.’ [He was] a frothing mad person—he knew how to have ‘fun.’

George Harrison, c/o Derek Taylor, Fifty Years Adrift. (1984)

"One time Paul had a chick in bed and John came in and got a pair of scissors and cut all her clothes into pieces and then wrecked the wardrobe. He got like that occasionally, it was because of the pills and being up too long."

George Harrison (Source: The Beatles, Anthology, 1995)

"I remember I had a girlfriend called Celia. I must have been 16 or 17, about the same age as her...we went out one evening and for some reason John tagged along, I can't remember why it was. I think he'd thought I was going to see him, I thought I'd cancelled it and he showed up at my house. But he was a mate, and he came on a date with this Celia girl, and at the end of the date she said, 'Why did you bring that dreadful guy?' And of course I said, 'Well, he's all right really.' And I think, in many ways, I always found myself doing that. It was always, 'Well, I know he was rude; it was funny, though, wasn't it?'"

Paul, Barry Miles, Many Years From Now, 1997

I came for dinner, and I was the only girl there. John definitely didn't like that. He didn't like me being there at ALL. He was mean and sarcastic. As far as he was concerned, I had no business being invited to dinner with the four of them. For him this was an exclusive boys' club. He was purposely making me feel uneasy. At one point, the boys were handing around a scrapbook -- looking at pictures of that first tour. John made some snide comment like, "What is SHE doing here?" I got the idea that he thought Paul was an idiot to take a girl so seriously he'd actually invite her to dinner, when all he really needed to do was fuck her AFTER dinner.

Peggy Lipton, Breathing Out, 2005

Whether it was her cool confidence or her posh accent, something about Jane goaded John to direct his caustic eyes in her direction. “Well. Let’s all play a question-and-answer-game!” He announced a bit too cheerily. Then he turned to Jane. “So tell us, luv, how do girls play with themselves?” Silence. Jane’s eyes widened. Paul, sitting close to her on the floor, put his hand in the air, as if he could wave John’s words back into his mouth. “John! John!” he yelped. “Stop it. You can’t do that.” John just smiled, peering intently through his glasses. “No, you can tell us. Come on. We all want to know, come on.” Paul, looking aghast, shook his head vehemently. “John. For christsakes, John.”

Peter Ames Carlin, Paul McCartney: A Life

JOHN: So it was always the family thing, you see. If Jane [Asher] was to have a career, then that’s not going to be a cozy family, is it? All the other girls were just groupies mainly. And with Linda not only did he have a ready-made family, but she knows what he wants, obviously, and has given it to him. The complete family life. He’s in Scotland. He told me he doesn’t like English cities anymore. So that’s how it is. MCCABE: So you think with Linda he’s found what he wanted? JOHN: I guess so. I guess so. I just don’t understand… I never knew what he wanted in a woman because I never knew what I wanted. I knew I wanted something intelligent or something arty, whatever it was. But you don’t really know what you want until you find it. So anyway, I was very surprised with Linda. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d married Jane Asher, because it had been going on for a long time and they went through a whole ordinary love scene. But with Linda it was just like, boom! She was in and that was the end of it.

John Lennon, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

Random cute things: flirting etc

I remember we were going down to the studio [...] and there was a great crowd pressing against the car. John was sitting in the back and he said, “Push Paul out first. He’s the prettiest.”

Victor Spinetti, in the documentary You Can’t Do That! The Making of ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ (1995).

We were away. The boys had relaxed. As we walked off to do the next scene, I heard them joshing each other, like schoolboys on the way to class. 'Are those jeans tight, Paul?' That was John. 'What do you mean tight?' 'I can see your suspender belt through 'em and your stockings. You've got ladders in them.'

Up Front: His Strictly Confidential Autobiography by Victor Spinetti

“I could even hear what they were saying off-mike; ‘Oh Paul, you’re so cute tonight.’ was met with the reply ‘Sod off, Lennon.’”

Joan Baez on accompanying the Beatles to their concert in Red Rocks Amphitheatre, Denver. 26 August 1964

To Lennon, [Paul] was "cute, and didn’t he know it," a born performer who was also a "thruster" and an "operator" behind the scenes.

Christopher Sandford, Paul McCartney, 2005

In a late wee-hour-of-the-morning talk, he once told me, ‘I’m just like everybody else Harry, I fell for Paul’s looks.”

Harry Nilsson speaking about John Lennon

HARRY: Someone told me a few minutes ago they saw John walking on the street [once] wearing a sign saying – a button, rather, saying ‘I Love Paul’. And this girl who told me that said she asked him, “Why are you wearing the button that says ‘I Love Paul’?” He said, “Because I love Paul.” [laughs]

February 17th, 1984: Harry Nilsson

PAUL: It’s like, uh, “We have to get back.” “We’re on our way home.” JOHN: Yeah. PAUL: There’s a story. There’s another one – ‘Don’t Let Me Down’. “Oh darling, I’ll never let you down.” Like we’re doing— JOHN: Yeah. It’s like you and me are lovers. PAUL: [reserved] Yeah. [pause] JOHN: We’ll just have to camp it up for those two. PAUL: Yeah. Well, I’ll be wearing my skirt for the show, anyway.

Get Back sessions

PAUL: Okay, “two of us riding nowhere” that’s as if…we’re like…two, but then “we’re on our way home”  JOHN: It’s like we’re like a couple of queens. PAUL: Yeah. Well, you know. Well, I mean, that’s…  JOHN: We’re a couple of queens… PAUL: That’s just too bad. Unless you want to get Paul and Paula in. Poetic license, John. JOHN: You’re telling me, Paul.

Get Back sessions

[bodyswapmischief]

One Gift Can Change the World

(A story written for @tf-lover for the annual story exchange)

The world was a blur, as Erica zoomed by. She was driving home in a rush. The day had dragged on, and her professor was the cherry on top of pile shit that today had turned out to be. Unfortunately, her ass of a professor wasn't the only problematic man she had to face. On a daily basis, there was a parade of men that would at best annoy her and, at worst, make her wish she was not a girl. Don't get me wrong. She loved being a girl. Well, she loved being a Tom Girl. But even with her best attempt of dressing and acting tough, there were always guys trying to hit on her ... make her act like “a real woman,” Stop hiding her beauty by dressing like a “dyke,” and let a man protect her. But, she didn't need a man’s protection. She'd taken out guys twice her size. But, all people saw when they looked at her was a small and weak 4’9 girl.

Although, she wouldn't lie. She often fantasized about being a man. And, not just any man. She wanted to be seen tough on the outside like she felt on the inside. Yeah, if she was a man, she'd wanted to be ripped and muscled out. She'd want to be the epitome of strength. She'd want to look like she worked out every day of her life. She'd smile at the fact that men would finally leave her alone. She wouldn't get hit on. Her professor wouldn't even dare criticize her. And, if he did ... she beat the living shit out of him without breaking a sweat.

As she drove home, she let these ideas carry her to her happy place. Gaming. The only solace she had from reality. She could play as a manly warrior. She could be the cool space soldier with undoubted authority. She could play with the boys and not be thought of as some girl. She never even considered telling her gamer friends she was a girl. It was her little secret ... a secret made better by the fact she was better than all of them in any game they played. Thanks to the technological advancements of the late 21st and early 22nd centuries, her video game fantasies were even more of a reality. The improvements of artificial imaging, vocal mapping, and sensory mirroring in virtual reality helped to make gamers live a life in the games they played.

Now, she was speeding through traffic on her way home. She was looking forward to the only saving grace that could make this shitty day better. Today was the announcement of the newest VR game. Rumored to be the next big step in virtual reality. There have been a few clips and leaks of the game, but other than that, the games secrets have been locked up tight. All she knew of the game was that it was rumored to have true realism graphics and that if it was true ... it would be the first of its kind. She continued her way home, cursing at anything that slowed her down.

Arriving home, she ran straight to her room. “Hey, fuckers keep it down. I'm gonna be watching the announcement of the new game. And, if I'm interrupted, I'm gonna kick someone's ass.” She puffed as rushed by her roommates. With readied excitement she turned on her computer and logged onto the first stream of the announcement she could find. The screen remained black for a few seconds before flashing to life.

The screen flashed with the image of The Second Life company. Three colored triangles zoomed onto the screen. They proceed to spin around in a circle, and their points interlocked. The logo began to fade, as a man sitting at an office desk begins to get into view. The chat section began to glow abuzz. People commented their excitement, others shouted out greetings to the void, and others just threw out nonsense. “Hello! And welcome to today's announcement.” The man smiled as he spoke. His name flashed under him on the screen, Nathan Black.

The man continued to talk as he spoke with a smug grin. The attractive features of his face and those most likely underneath his suit helped fill his presence with Charisma. “History has led us to this moment. Our ancestors could only imagine what their children could have achieved. And, Human history has brought so many advancements in so many areas of science and technology. VR technology is one of these areas.Beginning in the 2010s, we entered the dark ages of VR. The first real uses and mainstream-ifacation. Over the years, new technology has been created to make these experiences even more real and personal. Now, in the great year 2130, you can play as a cartoon cat running your own cafe. Zip through space in your own spaceship. Immerse yourself in real-time team warfare. Take on cgi Dragons with your friends. Build cgi avatars to be the person you always wanted to be. Even now, data shows that 10 percent of people have decided to make VR spaces and games their true lives. Spending most of their day plugged in. 30 percent of people report a steady income from VR game economies. The future is now VR!” He stands up and begins to walk around the office. The camera moved to follow him.

“Our ancestors one hundred years ago ... had dreams. Flying cars, instant meals, teleportation services, space travel, etcetera. But, years of human conflict have stunted any progress we could have achieved. Instead, we continue to look for an escape from real life. Instead, we've put money into developing entertainment. We hope to be distracted from the world. Those numbers I've shared are only going up. With 55 percent of people interested in making a move to permanent VR or even picking up a second job in VR spaces. And, why wouldn't they? Everything our ancestors wanted, in the 21st, 20th, 19th centuries, and back to the dawn of time, is available in these VR spaces. So why not improve them to the best capabilities we can. Why not make it more real? Why not make them as indistinguishable from reality as we can? Well, we have. Everything you have seen in this announcement has not been real. It has been generated with our new console. The Second Life X.” As he says that, the walls and everything in his office disintegrate like sand blown in a strong breeze. He now stands in an open cleaning in a forest. The comment section of the stream explodes with excitement and disbelief. A group of people not believing this is real because there was just no way that graphics could be this good.

“And the first foray into this new world of VR is called Fantasy Land. The bundled game will come with the console at launch. When we developed what we are calling Real CGI ... we pondered on what genre would be the first to explore. And we thought it would be best to take it back to the earliest form of fantasy. Where knights and wizards roamed to adventure. Where fairies danced in the woods and magic was in the air. Where people would live to die as legends.”

The rest of the stream showed off new features of the game. The intensive character creation section. Erica could imagine spending days, if not weeks, just on the character creation to make her avatar the exact way she wanted it. As Nathan showed off these features, it was almost scary how real it looked. Nathan's face would morph to have different features. His body would grow and shrink to different sizes. Finally, he reverted back to himself and began to show off some spells, and they looked equally realistic. The stream ended with the surprise that the system and game would drop a week before Christmas, tomorrow.

All the excitement that built up in Erica was instantly drained. She collapsed onto her gaming chair. She let out an audible “Fuuuck!” From her room. She sat there for a few minutes and then moved to plop herself face down on the bed. “Fuck! Today couldn't just be a bit better.” As she lied there in self pity, she could hear her door squeak open. “Erica!!! Did you see it! Did you see the announcement!” She didn't even need to look up to see that her twin brother had entered the room.

She loved her brother, but right now, she wanted to be left alone. But, she could hear the excitement in his voice. And, he didn't deserve her meanness. No, Elias had to deal with meanness all his life. When they were both in the womb, Erica felt like she took all the good genes. She was smart and beautiful despite hiding it in baggy clothes. Her brother was not the brightest, and he wasn't the most attractive man in a room. He was a socially awkward geek. One that she would have to protect from bullies at school. But, now in college, he did have two things she didn't have. The ability to make real friends. Yeah, she had online friends ... but she kept a bunch of secrets from them. But, again, she didn't really like people. So, she was glad that Elias had friend making skills at the very least. So, she could spend more time alone in the virtual world. The second thing was her brother's size and strength. He was the definition of a friendly giant.

“Yeah, I heard.” She sighed and looked up at her brother. “Are you sure? Because, if you did ... you'd be more excited!” He beamed. “No, yeah, the game looked great.” She rolled her eyes. “Erica! Then why aren't you excited ... are you being sarcastic ... I can't tell. Why didn't you like the game?” Elias pleaded for an answer. “Cause, Elias, I won't be playing the game!” She yelled out. Elias jumped. “Why not? I mean, it's coming out tomorrow ... short notice. But we can go out now and wait in line for a midnight release somewhere.” Erica sighed, “It’s not because it's too soon ... it's because I don't have money to buy a new console! I thought it was gonna be a game for SL 9.” Elias looked worried. “Well that's okay ... then when you do get money ... we can go get one. So what if we have to wait a week or two.” Erica fell back onto her bed. “If only! Remember when the Second Life 9 came out ... it was completely out of stock for a year ... and then some people didn't even get it off the waitlist until 3 years later.” Elias sank on the bed next to her. He was also beginning to realize the bad news. “We could ask mom and dad ...” Erica cut him off, “They never would ... you know they are against VR, and they believe it's evil and gonna take over the world.” Elias weakly smiled, “Well ... then we hope for a miracle.” Erica, let those words sink in, “Yup, a miracle.”

Christmas Day

Erica had spent the rest of the week in a sort of depression. Now, sitting around her family as they opened presents, she couldn't get herself in the mental space to be there. Everyone was smiling and getting into the atmosphere of the day. She opened her presents like everyone else. She got dresses from her parents. She got makeup and lotions from other family members. She got a gift card from her brother, which was the only gift she liked. Christmas was another horrible day. And, when it was over, she was happy. Her and Elias began the drive back to their shared apartment. Their other roommates still gone with their families out of state.

Getting back to the apartment, she plopped onto the couch and sat down. Elias slowly approached. “I got you another present ... I thought it would be best to open away from mom and dad.” He hurried to his room and came back with a big box. “Merry Christmas!” Erica was puzzled and began to open it. “ You didn't need... Oh my fucking God! How...” She exploded with excitement, as she unwrapped the Second Life X bundle.

She ran to her room and began to plug in everything. The game loaded up, and she attached the new VR headset to her face. The logo of the company and the game flash by. She hurried to start a new game. She looked down and saw her current body in some kind of fantasy styled inn and wearing barbarian starting gear. She saw options floating around her. She instantly goes to height and begins to increase it. The world around her became slightly smaller. Now, she was standing at 6’4. She looked at her reflection in a mirror. She laughed at seeing her features on this stretched out body. She swapped her gender and felt a zap on the side of her head. She touched it as a reaction. “Fuck that hurt!” The game informed here that sensory mode had now been enabled. And, at that instant she saw her body begin to morph to look more masculine. She looked like her brother, only better looking and slimmer. As her body morphed it felt like water rippling. It felt relaxing. Then she gasped as she felt something pop out of her vagina. She reached down into her pants, noticing her clothes also were shifting to match her new body, she felt her new cock. “What the fuck ... this is new ... this game really went there!” She laughed with her same voice. She winced seeing such a girly voice coming out of this man's body. She began to explore voice options until she found one she liked. She looked at her reflection and smile. She looked like a hot fuck boy. But, she didn't want to stop there. She wanted to be a man.

She began to explore with body hair options. And increasing her muscle size by adding points to her strength stat. She found it interesting that layout her stats started as. She also found it strange that if she wanted to, she could max all her stats to 20. She maxed out her strength. She set her dexterity to 15. Her constitution maxed to 20. Her intelligence was already 17, so she didn't change it. Her wisdom was also not changed at 12. And, her charisma score of 5 was bumped to 14. Her body morphed to match every choice. She looked at her new avatar. An absolute beast of a man. Hairy, ripped, and good-looking. She was happy as she looked in the mirror. She felt her body, and it felt rock hard. Her cock was ragging in her pants. “Fuck ... is this really gonna be part of the game.” She laughed. She pondered making more changes... but she also wanted to see actual game play. Worst case she could always start a new game if she did want to make changes to the way she looked. She played the first ten minutes of the game before she felt hungry. “Too bad I still have to leave the game to eat.” She laughed.

She took off her headset, and the world was thrown out of balance. Her room looked so much smaller. She began to stumble and walk. She felt so heavy, and the floor thudded with every step. She looked down and saw her avatar from the game. She or now he was completely naked. The clothes he was wearing were torn to shreds. He let out a guttural yell instead of a scream. “Erica! Is that you!” Elias barged into the room. He looked at the naked barbarian in front of him, hung like a horse. “Ahhhhh!” Elias screamed.

Erica rushed to him. Not knowing his own strength, he knocked them both to the floor. He covered Elias’ mouth to stop the screaming. “It's me ... it's Erica!.” He shouted in a deep voice. Elias fainted. When he came to, he saw the giant man taking care of him. If this man was bad ... why was he still here. It couldn't be... “Erica ...” He let out. Erica turned to see her brother awake. “Yeah ... it's me.” He spoke, his voice rumbling the air with his deep voice. “What happened?” Elias squeaked.

The big man pointed to the screen. The news was on. A woman spoke as the words “breaking news” flashed on the screen. “Reports are still coming in of Body Transformations throughout the country and world. Authorities are confirming that the cause is the new Second Life X console. It is also believed that the company has purposefully set this bio weapon on the public. The Second Life Entertainment offices and Second Life Corporation have been radio silent on the matter. Wait ... just ... it seems like their website has just gone offline. Authorities are asking to drop off all Second Life technology to the nearest police station. Again, do not use Second Life technology.”

The news broadcast kept going. The sound of sirens from the outside began to fill the night air. Other screams could be heard in the distance. But Erica interrupted, “And, online coders found hidden code that was set to activate just a few moments ago. People are saying Second Life has been planning this for a long time.” Elias looked at his new brother concerned. “Well ... I'm sorry ... is there a way to undo this?”.

The gaint laughed and shook the air. “Sorry! I love this! This is what I always wanted. But you probably shouldn't call me Erica anymore... Call me Erik ... with a K.” He laughs “More barbaric. But what about you, little bro ... want a new life.” Elias gasped. “What about the report ... can this be trusted? What about the consequences.” Erik put his huge strong hand on his brother. “The only consequences is you'll be the person you always wanted to. Think no one is going to give this to the police ... the power to be who they want. The world has changed. You can be in it as the person you want or the person you are now.”

Elias grabbed the VR headset and put it on. He began a new game and began to edit his character. Erik watched his brother change before his eyes. Elias shrank from 6’4 to 6’. He began to slim down. His chubby body became more tone. His pasty skin tanned until he looked like an exotic Middle Eastern man. His oversized clothes fell off his body. He looked like an Arab heartthrob. He took off the headset and looked at his new body, and smiled. “Damn it feels so good. And, now that I have raised my intelligence score ... I see what you mean. This is the new world.” He smiled. He raised his hand, and small particles of frosted air began to coat his hands in a layer of frost.

“Damn, nice body, bro. Didn't know this was your ideal body. Based on physique and that you have frost magic... you picked wizard.” Erik laughed. “Well isn't it obvious.” Elias said with a wit and sass he never had before. “Bro, I think we should bring this head set to some other people. Give some friends some equally attractive bodies. And, enemies ... something else.” Elias smirked. Erik smiled, “That has to be the smartest idea you've ever had. I'm ready when you are.” He chuckled at the thought of changing everyone that made his life hell. His parents, professor, and more. The two men found some usable clothes and walked out of the apartment to help change the world.

Epilogue: Nathan Black sat in his private jet, on route to his secret bunker. In front of him was a laptop with a hooded figure on the screen. “It's been done.” He raised a glass of wine and drank it. “It took a bit more than a century, but it's done.” He smiled.

The hooded figure spoke. “The gods left behind small tools of power. From rings that could swap bodies, plants that affect a person's age, gems that allow possessions, and so many other small gifts” the figure spoke with annoyance. “They always feared giving humanity true magic. But, I have used those gift to do what they didn't want. The era of magic is among us.” Both men laughed.

[mrsshabana]

Patient!Gyutaro x Nurse!Reader - CHAPTER 1

Chapter 2

✦ CW: 18+ MDNI, female reader. Mentions of mental illness, suicide, and sexual abuse of a minor. This fic has many dark themes, please do not read unless you are comfortable!

✦ AN: The long awaited nurse au is finally here! Sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to make sure it was perfect. Lots of thought and research went into making this fic. There will also be art included in this chapter!

✦ WC: 2,146

This is what you should have expected from a job in the medical field that didn’t require much qualifications. Working at an asylum wasn’t ideal, but they are incredibly desperate for new nurses. As most of them are unable to handle the physical and mental toll that a place like this puts on someone. 

It’s your first day at your new job. You were excited until you entered the building. The dreary interior mixed with the groans and screams of unruly patients wasn’t the welcome that you had been hoping for.

You’re young, almost too young to be working at a place like this. The other nurses didn’t take you seriously, and they were going to make the transition for you more difficult than it needed to be. You were being assigned to a patient that is notorious for being difficult to work with. The other nurses use him to weed out the weak. Always shifting the new hires to care for him. They usually leave within the first week, so his care returns to one of the veteran nurses known for having a mind of steel. She’s cold hearted, but that helps you deal with a job like this. The complete opposite of you. A warm young woman, eager to treat and rehabilitate.

Currently you are being led to your new patient. Quickly scanning over his records as you follow the nurse through the halls of the sanatorium.

Rashomon Riverbank Asylum

Patient Record

Name: Shabana, Gyutaro

Identification Data: Sex: Male Age: 23 Height: 6’ 3” Weight: 134

Race: Asian Hair: Black Eye: Blue

Special Handling Code: Code Red; Keep medicated Special Handling Instructions: Keep away from sharp objects

Medical History: Multiple suicide attempts, Complications due to sickle cell anemia, Treated for Congenital Syphilis

Diagnoses: Sickle Cell Anemia Hutchinson’s Teeth Borderline Personality Disorder Antisocial Personality Disorder Depression Insomnia

Current Medical Treatment: Special diet for weight gain Medications given AM & PM

Medications: Wellbutrin - 100 mg twice daily Abilify - 10 mg once daily Carbamazepine - 350 mg twice daily Xanax - 2 mg twice daily Trazodone - 150 mg once daily Voxelotor - 500 mg once daily Adakveo - 5 mg IV infusion once every 4 weeks

Gyutaro Shabana, your very first patient at Rashomon Riverbank Asylum. Looking over his record, this is going to be a difficult one. You’ve learned about a majority of these diagnoses in college, so you have a good idea about the kind of treatment he will require. It’s strange though, he seems to have lost the genetic lottery. And you haven't even seen his face yet, you can only imagine what he may look like.

An asian man with sickle cell anemia is almost unheard of, roughly 0.0022%. And on top of that he was born with Congenital Syphilis. It’s quite frankly amazing that he’s lived past 20.

“Just introduce yourself, then I’ll take you to your other patients,” the other nurse says as she stops in front of his door. 

Not wanting to be impolite, you hesitantly knock on his door. There’s no response. You figured that there wouldn’t be, so you open the door anyways.

“Hello, Mr. Shabana?” you say coyly.

When you peek into the room, you are instantly frozen by his icy gaze. He’s sitting on his bed with a book in his lap. His cold blue eyes send shivers down your spine.

“I’m um… I’m your new nurse.” you choke out. He’s feet away from you but you feel as though his hands have a tight grasp around your throat.

“My name is Y/N. Um… If you ever need anything d-don’t hesitate to call for me…”

The expression on his face is unchanging, as he remains silent.

“Well I’ll see you later tonight Mr. Shabana…”

Closing the door, breaking the line of sight that he had on you, instantly you feel a surge of relief.

You go on to visit the rest of your patients, then you come back later that night to give Mr. Shabana his dinner. A high protein meal, specifically for weight gain.

Knocking on the door a few times before you push it open, “Mr. Shabana, I have your dinner.”

He’s in the same spot where you left him, sitting on his bed with a book in his lap. But this time he doesn’t even bother to look at you when you enter the room.

Stepping closer to place the food tray on his table, you inspect his appearance. 

His clothes hang off of his frame, enveloping his skeletal body. You can make out lean muscles on his arms, but his face is sunken and his pants hang low on his hips. There are large black marks scattered across his face, and you can barely see one peeking out from below his sleeve. Were these marks from his Congenital Syphilis? Dark circles sit below his eyes, he looks as though he hasn’t slept in weeks.

He’s wearing the standard issue uniform that all patients wear. A plain t-shirt and pants, made of the same material as scrubs. Though his feet are bare, slippers sitting below the edge of the bed. His hair is long and wavy. Black as midnight, unruly in the way it hangs in front of his face. The top of his hair is half haphazardly tied up.

“Got a problem…?” He rasps, drawing out each word.

The venom of his sour tongue sends a jolt of electricity through your skin. 

“Huh?” you’ve been sitting there staring at him for too long, “O-oh! I’m sorry sir! There’s no problem, please enjoy your dinner,” you quickly rush out of the room.

As you continue on giving food to the rest of your patients, Mr. Shabana’s voice echoes through your skull.

Got a problem…? Got a problem…? Got a problem…?

A few hours later, you go back to retrieve the tray and whatever food may have not been eaten. Stopping yourself before you open the door. It’s ok. He’s just a patient. Then why does he make you so nervous?

*Knock knock*

“Hello Mr. Shabana, I’m just here to collect your tray,” you chime, masking your fear with a smile.

Walking back into the dimly lit room, the fluorescent lights flickering. His eyes staring into you.

His food has been untouched. The only thing that was eaten was a packaged cookie.

“Not hungry today?” your voice shakes as you try to ignore his harsh gaze.

He remains silent. Watching you as you step closer. The buzzing of the fluorescent bulbs filling the room, filling your brain with static.

“Was it not to your liking? I can have the cooks make something else for you if you’d like.”

“...”

Your eyes meet. His thin eyebrows furrow, the rest of his expression remains unchanging. The pressure of his glare makes the air around you feel heavy. Pressing down on you, compressing your spine, you feel so small when he looks at you. You’re desperate to fill the cold aura with some warmth.

“Mr. Shabana you really should eat-”

*CRASH*

He slaps the tray out of your hand, food splattering onto your uniform, dripping onto the floor. 

Silence. You’re stuck staring down at your feet. Watching the pool of meat, vegetables, and milk spread around you. It takes you a few moments to fully process what has just happened, only able to snap out of it when you feel the wetness of the food seeping through your skirt, making you feel cold.

You regret looking up at him. Regret meeting his eyes. Filled with amusement.

“You better clean that up… don’t chu think…?” He smirks. Showing his sharp canines and crooked teeth.

“I-I…” you mumble, looking back down at the mess. He’s right, you should clean it up before it gets everywhere.

Going into the hallway, you grab some towels and return to his room. Not thinking your next actions through as you get down on all fours and start picking up the mess. All you want to do is hurry and clean this up so you can leave. But Mr. Shabana has different plans.

He slowly stands up. Looming over you, looking down on you with a twisted grin. He’s so tall… he makes you feel so small as you look up at him. So pathetic. So worthless.

“You look good down there…” he steps on your hand, “On your knees like a whore…”

His words leave you speechless. Your vision begins to blur and your heart starts to race. He pushes his weight further onto your hand, until you feel a crack.

“I’d like to see you like this more often…” he chuckles, the sound rumbling in his hollow chest.

Every instinct within your body is screaming at you to run. But you feel so trapped. So paralyzed by him. Like a rabbit cornered against a wall by a vicious predator. His eyes. It’s his eyes. No, it's his touch. It’s… everything about him. 

You try to speak up, but your words escape you. Coming out in a pathetic whine that makes his grin widen and his laughter intensify. 

He’s reaching for you. His hand is coming towards your face. Your mind is telling you that if you let him get any closer you will die. He will kill you. And he won’t even care.

Your body is pumped with enough adrenaline for you to break free from the physical and psychological hold he had on you.

Pulling your hand away from under his foot, you push yourself backwards. Stumbling to stand up on your feet. You run out of the room and through the halls, not risking looking back at him. All you hear as you escape is his laughter on repeat. You can’t tell if his laughter is echoing through the halls, or if it has just been ingrained into your mind.

You keep running until you get back to the nurses quarters and to your room. 

Tears running down your cheeks, food staining your clothes, and pain throbbing in your hand. You collapse on the floor and cry.

Why would he be so cruel? You understand that he’s a patient and has a list of mental illnesses, but you were trying to help him! You can’t even remember what you were doing or why you were in his room. All you remember is him and how he made you feel. His stare. His voice. His touch. 

Fuck him and fuck this job.

Clambering over to your desk, you immediately start writing your resignation letter.

You don’t get paid enough for this shit. All you wanted to do is help people, and you get repaid with this? It’s just not worth it. Through your sobs, your tears fall onto the page as you hastily move your pen on the piece of parchment in front of you.

There. It’s done. You’re done.

You won’t have to see this place, see him, ever again once you submit this letter.

Looking around your desk, searching for an envelope. You come across a thick manilla folder. The tab on the side reads, Shabana, Gyutaro.

Something compels you to open it. You already skimmed through his information, but you never looked at everything here.

His psychiatric notes? From his psychiatrist? These shouldn’t be in here… you shouldn’t have access to this confidential information.

But if you’re leaving anyways… then there’s no harm. Right?

Shabana, Gyutaro - Dr. Hantengu

August 14

Childhood trauma starting since birth

Single mother, no father

Raised as a female. Mother would dress patient as a daughter. Would cover up his deformities with makeup. (Feelings of worthlessness, not belonging)

Sister born at age 6 (turning point in patient’s life)

Mother cast aside patient for sister. (When he learned he was actually a boy. Feeling of confusion. Child cannot comprehend)

Sexual abuse started at age 10

Mother was a prostitute, would offer children to adult clients.

 Patient record, “She would bring men into our house… and let them touch us. (long pause) They wanted my sister. They wanted to do bad things to her. So I… (patient gets upset) I would offer myself to them. I would perform sexual acts for them so they would leave Ume (sister) alone.”

Sexual abuse continued until age 15

Mother died of overdose. The children were left in the home for over a week until someone found them.

Children taken to orphanage. 

Patient held in orphanage for 8 months until incident.

Brought to Asylum at age 16

End of first session 

You are left speechless. 

Reading his records reminds you of why you wanted to be a nurse in the first place. To help people that have gone through trauma such as this. He didn’t lash out at you because of something you did. It’s not your fault. And it isn’t his either. He just needs help. 

And you will be the one to help him.

[socseptember]

Welcome to Soc September!

This is a blog that will only be active during September! In The Outsiders fandom we put most of our focus on the greasers. So this event is dedicated to all the underrated SOCs in the book, movie, and musical! It's not a contest or anything, just something to appreciate them all and have fun! If you want to participate please tag things with Soc September or tag this blog!

Here is how to participate!

Make artwork, headcanons, fanfiction, etc. of any SOC characters! Whether its more well-known ones like Cherry or Paul. Or ensemble members of the musical! Heck, even soc ocs you might have work! We accept just about everything! The last full week of September will also have a special event with prompts on the daily! We do accept ships including greasers but the greaser can't be the focus.

Prompts are here

Things that aren't accepted

We don't accept writing or art of the following

NSFW things about any characters, if its a bit suggestive that's different. But don't do anything blatantly NSFW. Also do not justify characters' actions if they are truly terrible. If you're writing in Bob's perspective of jumping Pony and Johnny and he's like "They deserve it!" that's ok since it's his perspective. But if you're doing character analysis and you're like "Cherry was evil for not saying hi to Pony and Bob was in the right to try and murder Pony!" that's a bit different. Blood and such is allowed just put a TW!

If you don't know the SOCs here they are under the cut

Cherry Valance- The redhead that Dally hits on and helps change Pony's perspective on SOCs. Marcia is her best friend and Bob is her boyfriend (or ex depending on how you look at it) She can be rather fierce and has an interesting perspective on things. She's kinda the main soc

Bob Sheldon- A curly headed blonde (or straight, dark haired) 18 year old. He's more villanized in the book and is killed in self-defense by Johnny. He's a mean drunk but is also a good leader and well-liked by SOCs. Cherry's boyfriend.

Randy Adderson- A dark haired 18 year old. Best friend to Bob and helps jump Pony and Johnny. He has a change in perspective after Bob's death and has a chat with Pony that helps humanize the SOCs. He's the boyfriend to Marcia though it is disputed on if they actually care about one another romantically.

Marcia M. Marcia- A SOC girl with shorter black hair. She is best friends with Cherry and is not seen outside of the drive-in scene. She is very witty and has a flirtatious conversation with Two-Bit Mathews. Many have begun to ship them. She doesn't have a set last name nor really a visible personality.

Paul Holden- An older SOC guy. Used to be good friends with Darry Curtis. Currently in college and skilled in football. Not much is known about his history with Darry but the fans have come up with a lot of it.

Chet Baker, Trip (Terrence Ib), Brill (Clark Brillsteen)- Musical ensemble SOC boys. Friends of Bob. Chet seems to have a crush on Cherry and may get with her after the end.

Beverly- Soc girl ensemble, dislikes the greasers. Melody Rose has given bits and pieces of her personality but she doesn't have any lines.

Melvin and Sergei- The soc boy alter egos of melody rose and sarahgrace. The best soc boys overall

Greg Parker- He's from the weird TV show and I know next to nothing about him

[yoonia]

the bedroom hymns ● chapter xii

⟶ Chapter summary | The daunting stories of the other kingdoms in the Far Far Away land allure you, helping you forget the formidable circumstances that you must deal with as you adjust living in your new home. 

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader  ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale retelling ⟶ Word count | 7,062 words ⟶ Ratings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; include some form of classism, black magic, deceit ⟶ Story Masterlist: The Bedroom Hymns | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi ⟶ Author’s note | Continuing our adventure with the story, this chapter and the few upcoming ones may show or imply some places and characters mentioned in the other stories included in the Once Upon A Fantasy collab that this story is a part of. Spoilers may be hinted in this story, but there will be no need for you to read the other stories first to enjoy this series.

chapter xii. alias

Warm sunlight piercing through the windows, forming golden curtains as they fall against the grey walls and dark beige floors during late afternoons. 

The air that carries with it the salty scent of sea, which grows stale and humid as you walk down the dark hallways, or when you venture through the quarters located on the lower ground of the main palace. 

Cold breeze brushes against your skin as you pass through the connecting halls between the main palace and your private quarters at the West Tower. A complete contrast to the warmth within your bedchamber which seems endless, welcoming you like a warm hug upon your return from your long day. 

The rhythmical sound of waves crashing against the rocky walls bordering between the palace grounds and the Carmine Sea often accompanies you, whether lulling you towards your peaceful slumber in the night or allowing you a peaceful reprieve during the day.  

The mixed scent of dusts, dried ink, stained papers, and old books permeating through the palace’s library often accompanies you during your tutoring hours. You often allow yourself to be drowned in them as you get lost in the books that you are reading, or while you are deep into the tutoring sessions with Lady Laurel and Lord Gordan during the day. 

There are a list of things that you have begun to associate with your new home. 

Weeks have long passed since you moved into The Stargrave Castle. As you keep busying yourself, your father’s absence no longer feels disconcerting. You no longer feel as if you had been tossed in a foreign land to fend for yourself. And for some reason, even without his presence, you have found a way to get to know more about the King himself, as if his story is written in every single nook and cranny within the home castle. 

Through the set of keys that he had left you with and the enchanted doors you venture into, you have learned so much about his magic, his secret endeavours, the other lives that he has lived in under his other personas, and the way he was seeing the word. Through the lessons that you have been given and the daily conversation that you have had with the King’s loyal aides and disciples, you have been learning more about your father’s work and his way of ruling the kingdom. 

Granted, there are still so many secrets behind his work and his magic, the latter is the one that he seems to hold dear as a lifeline that not even a single one of this closest aides could explain to you when you tried to sneakily question them, yet you have learned just enough to be able to understand about him more. 

Through the places you have found within the castle, from the treasure rooms to the library and his royal study, you are beginning to learn more about the family history—the King’s family history—when the golden plates and the ruby stones could tell you not only how long he had slowly started building his empire, but also how far he had traveled to gain his riches and support to help his people. 

There are still so many things that you wish to learn. Not only about your father, but your entire family, as you had never truly learned about your own roots aside from what has been written in the books for the commoners to learn about the royal family.

But above all, what has made you more curious to learn would be about your mother. Other than her paintings and pictures that you were left with, and the necklace that you have been given to, you realise that you have nothing else left of hers that could tell you more about her.

Who was she, the woman who had stolen the heart of the Wicked King? Where did she come from? Did she ever learn about magic, or the family secret that your father has entrusted upon you the day he departed from the home castle?

And if your mother, the Queen, had once lived in this castle, which part of the castle had her private quarters had been located in? Or had she spent most of her life sharing the same quarters with the King? 

Did you father ever entrusted her with the same set of keys? And if he did, had she ever traveled down these hallways, trying out the secret doors—whether they are the ones with the treasures or the ones that had been enchanted with spells—and learned the same secret that your father had kept just like you have?

Over the years, you have tried to learn more about the Queen from your governess. Yet Nanny Abigail had only ever answered your questions with the most simple words that any child would yearn to hear—

“Her Majesty was the most gracious Queen that the people had once admired and loved.”

“The Queen was the most beautiful woman in the empire, not one had ever hold the candle to her beauty, not until you arrived in this world, Your Highness.” 

“Her Majesty was smart, brilliant, and talented, if it hadn’t been her beauty that had caught the King’s heart, then it would have been her brilliant mind.” 

Despite how good it made you feel to hear nothing more but good things about your mother shared by the person who had claimed to have known her the most, nothing that she had said to you ever answered your true questions. 

And none of the written books and scriptures that you have found in the library has the answers as well, no matter how hard you have looked. 

Regardless, you have learned so much more than you had ever asked for through the books that you have found in the royal library. As they have given you the most insight about life here in this fairy tale land. As of late, whenever you are not deep in the long, lecturing hours, you would find yourself diving deeper and deeper into these books. 

Each written text that you have found there almost have the same effect to you as the doors you often travel into, as they take you into various journeys and exciting adventures without taking you further away from the castle, allowing you to see more about the new world, the new realm that you have been thrust into and have yet to see before. 

With your father’s rule — ‘one magic door per day’ — which he had left you with, you were given the limitation which has hindered you from opening out as many magic doors as you possibly could while he is away. You know that he must have had his own reasons to give you such rule to follow, yet it leaves you wanting more. You want to see more places, more wonders, and more chances to somehow find a way to venture through other places within the fairy tale land instead of having to go back to the human realm to see the same places you had once gone to. 

Deep down, you are quite sure that the magic doors would one day take you to see these amazing, magical places that you have been reading about. Until then, the books have become a different mean of traveling that you can enjoy. 

Just like how you are about to be using one of those books now as a form of escape. 

There is a pep in your footsteps as you are leaving your afternoon lessons, hugging the thick book that you have chosen to bring back from the library to waste the rest of your afternoon. The exhaustion that you have been feeling from your latest exploit through the magic door still follows you around, clinging onto your bones and muscles as you make your way back to your bedchamber. Yet the excitement of reading the stories about the magical lands and kingdoms from your new book manages to help you forget about it for a little while. 

Walking up the hallway leading to your bedchamber, your eyes are caught by the scenery that you are presented with by looking out the main window of the West Tower. From up high, the widespread ocean seems like a massive mirror, reflecting the golden afternoon sunlight and bringing more warmth into the space around you. This marvellous image has often caught your attention, leaving you astonished and in awe at the sight you are seeing. 

And just like always, once you look out into the ocean, your gaze would drift towards the high cliffs attached to the side of the palace walls. Every time this happens, your mind wanders to the mysterious mercenary that you had encountered during your latest feat. The masked man who has been visiting the long nights that you have spent in your bedchamber alone after your past encounter in a foreign town. 

Min Yoongi. 

The mere mention of his name brings back the sparks that you felt the first time you met him. It seems odd to feel a tangible bond with a complete stranger that you have just met. But you know that the feeling is real, and it seems hard for you to deny it when the sparks seem to follow you, always making their presence known whenever the thought of him crosses your mind.

Ever since the day you spent in Narlès with Min Yoongi, you have been experiencing the same dream. The images have been returning to you in broken parts like an echo of his presence. His face would appear between the hazy images of the events that you encounter during the day at Narlès. More often than not, Yoongi’s image would somehow merge together with the mysterious man that you once met in your past dream; the faceless man that came to see you at the top of the cliff above the Carmine Sea. 

Thinking about him makes you long for him. With a sigh, you wonder if you would be able to see him again should you try to venture through one of your father’s magic doors tonight. 

Except that there will be no adventure for you this evening. 

In truth, you haven’t been going through any of the magic doors ever since the last adventure you had.

The trip that you had to the market town of Narlès had taken most of your energy that it required you more than a day of rest to restore your stamina. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to you when it happened, knowing that the previous trips that you had taken through the magic doors had always drained your energy that it would have taken you hours to recover. 

Normally, the only thing you needed to do was have a proper rest at night and a good sleep to replenish your energy and be ready for the next day. And yet, for some reason, days had gone by since the trip to Narlès and you have yet to restore your energy. Exhaustion still follows you, and it didn’t help that you were still feeling tired even after you had woken up from your long sleep. 

This had been one of the reasons why you have been spending more time reading, be it in the library or within the privacy of your bedchamber, searching for an adventure through the stories you read in the books about the magic realm. And it was also the reason why you had simply lost track of time reading at the library today until one of the palace maids came in to check on you out of concern. 

It wasn’t so hard for you to get so captivated with your reading material today, more than ever. 

Today’s lecture had been about the notorious kingdoms and empires within the Land of Far Far Away which you may have to become acquainted with in the future. And what you learned—although still limited in details—had left you feeling astonished that you were eager to learn more. 

You learned about the kingdom that was lead by a king who was half man-half beast, with his followers and people who would turn into their beast counterparts under the full moon. There was also the kingdom filled with mages, ruled by a powerful Mage King who has lived for more than a thousand years and is still thriving to this day.

You read stories about the empires that are being ruled under the power of the moon. One empire is said to be ordained with the blessings of two magical moons, while another is to be said to have acquired magic from the moon that the people of the empire have worshipped as the divine being which had granted them not only magic, but also life and prosperity.   

But the one story that captivated you the most was the empire that was governed by the sun. Ruled by the newly crowned Sun Emperor who was said to have fallen in love with a nameless Princess with magical voice who is notorious in the Far Far Away Land, so much so that people would travel across the continent and the wide ocean just to hear her sing. 

As you sit down in your bedchamber, lounging on the settee by the window overlooking the cliffs and the sparkling ocean, you open the book that you brought back with you which tells the tale about the sun empire, its young Emperor, and his wife, famously known as the Sunray Sparrow. 

Today, in her lecture, Lady Laurel talked a lot about the sun empire, Aetherys, in terms of its success in advanced science and technology. She had at first captivated you with the stories and pictures of the empire’s known inventions; the air ships that seemed like giant bird floating in the sky; modernised trams passing through the cities as means of transportation instead of horses and stage coaches; and buildings that are built high enough to touch the sky with artistic styles that are quite unlike any other places within the continent. 

While the story of an advanced empire had been inspiring for you to listen to, the story about the sun empire which had drawn your attention the most had been its love story. Known to be the tale of the century, it was written alongside of the empire’s centuries-old history and achievements for every other kingdoms and empires to learn about. 

“They spoke about the danger of dark magic,” explained Lady Laurel when you inquired her the reason why this love story was written as such, “As the threats from dark mages and wizards often come with no signs nor warnings. Every good ruler with magic abilities must be prepared for the day such threats may come, and these stories may proved ways in defeating them.”

Just like how the love story captivated you the first time you heard it from Lady Laurel, it makes your chest flutter as you read it all over again. Their journey, past struggles, and their love before they were finally able to rule their empire sounds like a fairy tale that is often read to young children, but the story truly happened, notorious among the people in the Land of Far Far Away which later inspired an author to write it into a book for other generations to learn in the future. 

A sigh comes out of your lips once you are done reading the story once more. 

Such love story truly exists here in the land filled with magic and wonder, all written in the books that regular people in the human realms would read as fairy tales lulling them to sleep. As you close the book and set it aside, the flutter in your chest returns, and your gaze wanders outside the window, just in time to notice how quickly time has passed since you first return to your chamber as the golden sunlight is slowly retreating beyond the horizon. 

But the sunset that would have usually captivated you doesn’t do its magic this evening. You turn away from the sight, gazing up all the way to peak of the cliffs instead. As you wonder about finding love in the fairy tale land, a certain figure appears in your mind. The same figure that you would often see in your dreams at night. 

Except that in place of the hazy image of the man with whom you encountered in your dreams many nights ago, you see the handsome face of another taking his place in your memory. One who owns a pair of cat-like eyes, wears a sly smile that seems unwavering, and speaks with a deep voice as he escorted you through the market town of Narlès during your impromptu date just a few days ago. 

The moment you walk through the door and breathe in the air around you, you can already tell that you have once again arrived somewhere far away from home. 

Fresh air, with more earth and pine scents wafting around you instead of the salty scent of the sea or the damp air bouncing between the cold palace walls. The temperature here reminds you quite a bit of Smotia. It doesn’t make you feel homesick, yet it is still enough to make you feel a sense of longing, and you start reminiscing the things that you would normally find in Smotia to compare them with the things you get to feel in this place.

Oddly, there is also a new sensation that you have yet to feel before. The ripples of magic from the portal still clings to you the same way they always do, but there is something else here that you can feel drifting around you. An invisible force that pricks on your skin, caressing you lightly as it welcomes you in its home. 

What is this sensation? 

You wonder to yourself as you slowly take account of your surroundings. 

Once again, you find yourself emerging into an unfamiliar house. This time, you are standing inside the bedroom that appears to be tight and small, with not a sight of a door separating the room from the other parts of the house that are visible from where you are now standing.

Just like the merchant house you came out of previously at Narlès, the small house is filled with various wooden furniture, set and adorned in the bare minimum. Only enough to show people that someone lives in this house and has been regularly using it. 

A made-up bed that is big enough to fill up the entire bedroom is set in the center. The sheets are neat and clean, as if someone had taken the time to tidy up in the morning. But upon close inspection, it doesn’t seem like anyone has been using it for a while, with the sheets cold and the mattress feels hard under your touch. A knitted blanket hangs on the foot of the bed, helping to create a warm and cozy look in the room. With one touch, you realise that it is nothing more but a mock wool instead of the warm, comforting kind you would use during the winter. 

Quite a front, you wonder, smiling at your father’s meticulous effort to hide the real purpose of this small house from prying eyes.  

As you turn around, you are welcomed by a scene that is has become familiar to your eyes. Taking you back to the day you accidentally emerged into the King’s study room back at the main palace in the heart of Smotia, a full-body mirror stands at the corner of the room. The sight of the dark void that appears there instead of your reflection and the swirling magic dust dancing at its center show you where the portal is present; your point of exit that will bring you back to the home castle once you are done with your excursion.  

Looking at the portal from up close, the sight no longer seems eerie to you like how it used to be when you first began using these portals. If any, seeing them has always left you feeling astonished, always in complete awe at how the portals always appear in different shapes and at the most unexpected places you could find; a door leading to another room, the front door of a building, a closet, a mirror, a pantry filled with daily necessities, and even a wooden cupboard that barely fits your height.  

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing this kind of sight, you wonder to yourself as you refrain from reaching out to touch the dark void and its magic dust, already becoming familiar to what kind of reaction you would feel should you touch the magic.

Curious to learn more about this place, you turn away from the mirror, ignoring the en-suite bathroom and the wooden closet on the other side of the room to make your way outside. Unlike the merchant house you’ve been to, this house appears to be smaller in size. The living room seems almost bare of fancy furnitures and trinkets adorning the quiet space. 

A small kitchen with its private dining room is set up across the house, looking as tidy and clean like the rest of them. You try to picture yourself living here and making use of the rooms, as it seems impossible to imagine seeing your father, the ruler of the empire, sitting in such a small space with his grand presence. 

Thinking about it makes you smile, and it only makes you feel more eager to see what kind of world that you may find right outside of these walls. 

Opening the front door, you almost think that you are walking out of another portal. The house seems to be hidden between giant trees, making it seem as if you are walking out of a tree as you emerge into what appears to be the edge of the forest. 

You don’t sense any time difference between this place and the home castle, yet the darkness that welcomes you as you step out of the house almost plays a trick on you. It leaves you feeling disoriented for a moment, thinking that you have arrived in the evening time. But then you look up, catching the streaks of sunlight penetrating through the thick foliage to know that you still have some daytime left to venture around. 

You tighten your cloak—once again dressed as a common traveller for this trip—and graze over the dagger hanging on your hips for the final reassurance that you need. What lies ahead of you is a mystery to unfold, with possible danger lurking close the same way it did in the previous places you visited, and having your golden dagger with you gives you some sense of security. 

With your resolve, you begin your march into the thick woods ahead of you to find out where you have arrived to.

Traveling through the forest doesn’t take as much of an effort as you had expected it would. From the tree house, you follow along the gravel-covered pathway taking you through the dense woods, taking your time with your journey as you enjoy finding a serene moment by walking between the giant trees. 

Around you, the massive trunks appear like protective walls, with the top of the trees almost reaching all the way up to the sky above. The thick canopy of leaves provide you the perfect shelter, with streaks of sunlight escaping through the gaps to help you find your way.

The sounds of birds chirping and the murmurs of wild animals moving about from the deepest side of the forest become your company against the stillness. It feels peaceful, and you can slowly feel your troubling throughs being silenced by this sense of calmness. 

Not too long, the ground begin going downhill and you can tell that you are coming close to the end of the pathway; the sound of the forest slowly fading, the fresh air slowly shifting with a hint of smell from dirt and firewood, the trees growing sparse and thin the more you walk. 

And then, right before your eyes, the line of trees opens up to what seems to be a main road of a small village—or town. The main road is quite small, and presently empty. Typical to many roads crossing through small towns, there is only dirt covering the road, with traces of carriage wheels, horses trails, and human footprints imprinted along the dirt road.

Looking around, you try to be cautious yet hopeful to find any clue which could show you where to go or find people to talk to. And then you decide to follow the dirt road, not stopping until you reach what seems to be a small village. 

Rows of houses appear before you. The village seems quiet, closed off, some looking unkempt with wild vines growing on the walls and even reaching all the way up to the roof, while others are looking like they are housing more farm animals rather than a family of humans. You can see wooden fences marking their modest property, with piles of hay lined up on some of the open yards and small animals roaming within the barriers.  

Everywhere you look, there is not a sight of familiar-looking insignias or markings that may indicate if this village is a part of the empire’s territory, making you wary about going further to take a closer look at the housings to see if you can find the people residing within them. 

Walking cautiously through the village, you realise that you have yet to see anyone coming out of the houses or the barns. A situation which seems quite peculiar, as the sun is still quite high in the afternoon and the weather is warmer here compared to the estate you had emerged from. 

This is definitely a farmers’ village, but where did everyone go? 

Just as you are beginning to feel lost, you catch a sight a group of men walking towards the village, coming from the opposite side of the road. With cautions and determination to find answers, you walk up to them, meeting them halfway while mustering the courage to greet them. 

Noticing you, the men raise their heads and slow down. All eyes are on you, filled with curiosity and alert to a stranger who is suddenly coming to them. 

Upon closer look, you identify them as local farmers. Each men wearing clothes coated with dirt and soil, and carrying with them various types of farming tools, either in their hands or hoisted on their shoulders. A couple of the men walking at the back appear to be the younger in age, and they are pulling wheelbarrows filled with goods and crops that they must have just gathered from the field. 

“Excuse me, Sir?” you greet them with a polite bow, and the men stop moving completely to regard you. “May I inquire you the name of this place? Where exactly are we?” 

The exhausted farmers look puzzled at your question. They exchange incredulous gazes with each other for a moment, which makes you feel quite uneasy. None of them seem to be irritated with your intrusion, however, much to your relief. 

In fact, they appear mostly to be in—disbelief, upon hearing your question.

“Why—” one of the gruff looking farmers looks around at his workmates one last time before answering you, “we are in Grimm, lass.” Instead of mockery that you had expected to receive from him, there is a subtle pride brimming in his voice, which only becomes more evident when he raises his chin proudly and adds, “The farming district of Grimm.” 

Your eyes grow wide. “Ah, I see,” you politely mutter to him while you work through your memories to recall where exactly you have heard this name before.  

“Yer not from around here, are ye?” Another farmer questions you. The man seems to be the oldest  among his peers. From the look in his eyes, you can see that he is perhaps the most respected one of them all, also shown from the way the younger ones behind him seem to be letting their guard down once he has spoken.

Seeing that he seems to be the leader, you offer him a smile and give him a courteous nod. “No, Sir. I’m just passing through.” 

A different farmer lets out a surprised laugh. “Well, that’ll explain it,” he says with a thick accent that sounds foreign to your ears. In fact, the other ones have that same accent, all heavy and somehow sounding delightful for you to hear as they start murmuring to one another. “Sorry for being wary, lass. We don’t get much of visitors here in Grimm, unless ye have some business with the fellas from the farmsteads.” 

Again, you offer a polite smile as you speak. “No business here, I’m afraid. I’m just traveling through. Figured might as well see around the area—as long as I’m not intruding anyone, that is,” you explain calmly, using the same excuse that you have been using as of late each time you are met with strangers during your excursions. 

“Good luck with that then, lass. Nothing to see here but the boring farm, some dirty barns, and old farmers like us,” the same farmer says, “Unless ye want to travel downtown or the main towns. Lots of interesting stuff to see there.” 

You store these information for later, to use when you eventually need to decide whether you want to venture further away from the portal. “Are you heading back from the farm grounds, Sir?” you try to question them as you point out at their tools. 

The older farmer looks over at his fellas. “That there is true. ’Tis the crop season, so every farmer in the village are working hard to secure the crops and tend the meadows. Us folks are just coming back for a break while secure these crops here to bring home to our family”—he says as he points out at the wheelbarrows they are pulling with them, all filled to the brim—”but we’re not done just yet for the day. We still have some work to do. Even the wives and children are out there in the farm, handling crops and stocks before nightfall comes.” 

That explains why the village is so quiet. Everyone is out there, working together to harvest their goods. 

Just as the older farmer finishes speaking, the younger one from the back of the line shouts his question to you, “Did ye come down from up the hills there, lass?” 

Looking over to him, you follow his gaze and glance over your shoulder, noticing from the distance the pathway piercing through the forest from which you came from. “Yes, Sir. I did.” 

“That seems to be Lord Ahn’s private property. Ye know the fella?” a curious one from the group asks you while his eyes remain looking up the ascending foothill, as if he can still see you walking down the path to come across the village. 

Ahn. Is that another one of Father’s false identity? You wonder to yourself just as your memory takes you back to the paperwork you found back in Narlès. What was the name written in those letters again? 

You try to remember, just as Sir Elias’ deep voice rings through your head—

“Anee?” 

That’s right. Baron Aran of South Narlès. So this must be Father’s other name that he uses here.

“I am…a distant relative of the Lord, kind Sir,” you cautiously say to them while hoping that none of them had actually shared personal stories with ‘Lord Ahn’. 

Father should’ve left me with his paperwork and the list of his disguises along with his keys when he left.  

Thankfully, it seems that they believe your lies. Because the men only nod their heads with admiration before the first farmer who spoke to you muses, “What a fine man Lord Ahn is, so I surmise you are just as nobble as the man. Are ye sightseeing around the Lord’s estate?” 

You laugh nervously, stifling your relief to answer, “I just want to look around out of curiosity. I am learning how to do business myself, so I thought to have a quick look of my great uncle’s estate while I was in the middle of travelling before officially learning more.” 

This sparks yet another look of approval from the men. “A lass learning a man’s business. What fine bloodline the Lord has come from,”the old farmer says to you. “Just follow this road ahead and ye shall find the open land belonging to the Lord. You’ll see the village’s men working on the field as we speak.” 

“So it would be right to assume that there’s where you’ve been working then, my kind Sirs?” 

Another farmer answers, “Aye. We always work with the Lord’s workmen during harvesting season like this one and right before winter comes. Lord Ahn has the biggest estate to care for and there are many able men here in this village to do all the work.” 

You bow at them to show your gratitude. “Thank you kindly for the help, Sir. I shall continue my journey before the day grows dark, then. I pray that you’ll have a good day.” 

The farmers begin to make their leave, continuing their journey home while dragging their tired feet and heavy tools with them. But not before leaving you with a warning, “Beware of any suspicious men, lass. Be sure to return before nightfall.” 

“Right, as he says. This land here isn’t safe for a young lass once evening comes,” another adds. 

“Stay away from the forest ‘is well. ’Tis dangerous for a young lass to be too deep between those trees,” says the oldest farmer, causing you to smile at the kind warning that he gives out of concern, until he suddenly adds just as he leaves, “much less for a lass with unrefined magic like yourself.” 

With those words, your breath is suddenly caught in your throat. 

Your heartbeat picks up when realisation dawns on you. 

That this is no longer the human realm. You have finally arrived at a different place within the Land of Far Far Away. 

“And if ye ever get lost or gone too deep into that forest, remember to stay away from any old castle if ye see ‘em. Stay under the sun and stay close to the people’s side of the village, is all I say,” says the last farmer of the group as they walk away, while you let his words slowly sink in.  

A castle hidden inside the forest. Forbidden for you to come close or to enter. 

“Well, that sounds…familiar,” you muse under your breath, suddenly recalling the rumours spreading in Smotia that has been plaguing almost your entire life. 

“Take care there, lass. Enjoy yer stay here,” the oldest farmer says for the last time with his gentle voice before he joins the others. “If ye ever need any help, that there’s a tavern for travellers at the village borders called Y’Old Whispers. O’Moran’s the owner. Just say yer new ‘round here and he’ll have ye the fine brew of his that’s said to be good for young elves.” 

You have no words to say as you watch the farmers walk away. Each one nodding their goodbyes to you awkwardly yet so pleasantly that you almost feel guilty for not being able to say a thing in return. 

But your words simply fail you. Your mind is too busy taking all of these new information in. 

Finding out that you are in a magic town no longer seems relevant after all the things that you just heard from the old farmer. As he walks further away, you can still hear the murmurs of him conversing with one of his workmates who keeps asking him questions. 

Each word coming out of him are all about you. 

“…I can sense it. There’s no mistaking this gaffer…” 

Even without listening to him directly, you know exactly what he means with his words. What the old farmer sensed was you. And you clearly heard him say that you have unrefined magic within you, right before he mentioned ‘young elves’. 

Had he really been referring to you when he spoke of such a thing?  

Just who…who in the gods name am I, really? You ask yourself as you look down at your own hands, as if you can find the answers there. Except that there is nothing written there. Nothing that you can feel within your grasp except for the shadow of the sparkling magic that seems to follow you ever since you stepped out of your father’s magic portal. 

What other secrets are there that your father is keeping from you? What is it about you that your father is still hiding? 

You were almost right about this place being similar to Smotia. 

At first glance, everything seems quite similar, but the more you get to look around you, you soon find out that things are not quite the same. Barring the villagers dwellings that you saw earlier, what you find as you continue your journey down the road reminds you of a smaller version of the Land of Smotia. And yet, for some reason, you can feel that there is something lingering in the air that feels darker, more sinister, something that not even the bright sunlight above you is capable of hiding. 

Once the main road ends, the land opens up to a vast pastureland which puts you in awe. 

As far as the eye can see, lush green fields undulate gently under the warm embrace of the sun, their golden crops swaying in rhythmic unison under the flowing breeze. Rows of meticulously tended crops, from amber waves of wheat to vibrant expanses of emerald cornfields, flourishing before your eyes like a patchwork quilt laid out across the hills and valleys that seem endless. The air is redolent with the earthy perfume of fertile soil and fresh crops, and there is a hint of dew drifting in the air despite the warm sun. 

Under the open sky, the melodious chirping of wild birds, the rustling leaves of the towering trees bordering the estate, and the trickling sound of the sparkling river appearing not too far in the distance become music to your ears. 

If the sounds of the forest calmed you, the sounds that you hear breezing through the air feel invigorating, drawing you further towards its center, where farmers are seen working and tending to the crops and the fertile land. 

This is where those men had come from, you muse as you watch the hard working men, young and old, who are working across the meadows. The conversation you shared earlier plays out in your mind as you marvel at the sights you see around you, making you wonder to yourself, 

Is this the estate that they referred to earlier? 

Is this where Father gains his valuable crops, those that wouldn’t be able to grow in the Land of Smotia?  

As you wonder about your father’s—and, inadvertently, the empire’s—connection to this place, you start to get lost in your marvelling, still too astounded at the wondrous sight of the prosper land. Until something peculiar happening at the center of the field catches your attention. 

A movement. Deviating from the unformed motions of the farmers weaving through the rows of crops. 

A figure that looks completely unlike the farmers nor the locals who are seen engaging themselves with their work on the field, that his entire presence easily stands out among others. 

You find it hard to look away as he begins making his way towards you, while you come to a halt right in the middle of the field. It feels as if you are stuck in a dream state, as you watch him coming closer to you. Wearing bright coloured clothing that appears to be a common villager’s attire instead of the dark cloak and black attire he was wearing the last time you met him, and a bamboo hat covering his hair and face, he seems like a mirage that is slowly entering your dream while you are wide awake. 

Everything around you seems to be moving in slow motion; the passing wind that is blowing your hair, the hem of your cloak that is floating around your ankles, even the sway of the high grass around you.

As he slowly eliminates the distance between the two of you, he raises his head, and his face comes to sight. Under his gaze, your heart dips. Your skin grows warm, and you suddenly feel weak on the knees that you don’t dare making any effort to move, even if your heart yearns to be closer to him. 

He continues to walk closer, still with his eyes locked on you. Unlike you, who is watching him with wide, astonished eyes, he looks calm, knowing, as if he has already expected to see you today before you even knew that you would end up in this place. 

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he is standing right before you. Wearing a warm smile on his face, he instantly takes your breath away. While the deep gaze that he gives you draws delicate flutters inside your chest. 

“Min Yoongi.” 

A gasp follows as his name slips out of your lips. Hearing you calling his name, his smile widens, and it snaps you out of your stupor, helping you realise that this is real. That this is not another dream that haunts you in the nightfall. He isn’t just a mirage, welcoming you in a foreign land while you are in dire need of having a companion to make you feel less lonely. 

“I told you that we’ll be seeing each other again,” Yoongi says with the same deep voice that whispers to you at night in your slumber. The same deep voice that he gave you that night when you parted ways back at Narlès. 

“Welcome to Grimm, little dove. I’ve been waiting for you.” 

— © 2024 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[zatdummesmadchen]

I completely support Israel being held accountable for its crimes against humanity, but we also can’t ignore that Indonesia has been violently occupying West Papua - a region more than twice the size of occupied Palestine - for the past 55 years, and has murdered 500,000 indigenous West Papuans in the process. Indonesian soldiers routinely burn indigenous villages to the ground, pose with the bodies of murdered Papuan civilians, and actively prevent journalists from reporting on the genocide. West Papuans often refer to their homeland as “Indonesia’s Palestine.”

There's nothing to add. I agree. I am not trying to imply that all of the countries supporting Palestine don't have their own interests or agendas or that they are perfect in any way. Such as China or, say, Iran. Not everything is black and white, and there are definitely multiple geopolitical reasons for their actions or stand.

There are definitely many biases when it comes to geopolitical situations and blatant hypocrisy.

I completely understand and do sympathise with the West Papuans.

Undoubtedly, the situation is awful and has been going on for years. Basic research shows plenty of results of the brutal Indonesian occupation and brutality against the people.

《 Here is this website I found which might be helpful to gain some insight, feel free to drop more and I will add it to the post. 》

The West Papua Genocide Monitor

Welcome to the Awareness Campaign page for West Papua genocide. You have come to the right place if you are looking for information about West Papua genocide. - the introduction. Very good information.

The situation is indeed very similar to Palestine, with some mentions of settler colonialism in some of the articles. Hence the name is fitting I suppose. Hypocrisy runs high in politics and history, no doubt.

Countries such as Turkey and Egypt come to mind, its very telling. They probably put out statements to pacify the outrage and the anger of their own citizens since it would and should threaten their power otherwise.

This includes several Arab governments such as Jordan (there are huge protests daily)

The information about it is easy to find although I think a much more educated blog would do well in explaining the situation.

[intersexcat-tboy]

Call me Whiskers or whatever idrc. This blog focuses on raising awareness, sharing personal experiences, and connecting with others in the intersex and ATM theory community. I love doing in depth research onto topics, esp writing intersex educational essays. I tend to be very verbose as I'm hyperlexic but I'm also dyslexic and dyscalculic so it's a struggle.

Most everything goes onto queue, tho sometimes some things skip the wait.

I use hy/hym, e/ey, kit/fae and oneself pronouns

Schrodigender's catboy. Call me a catboy or don't call me a boy at all. [PT: Call me a catboy or don't call me a boy at all]. I use it as an omninoun (link). I may occasionally use masc language for myself but I do not actually identify with manhood. I'm not a man or a woman. Prefer not to be gendered or sexed by others at all. Neutroix tfemneumasc. Hard femme.

DNI/beware of dog:

Basic DNI of any type of bigoted -phobe or -ist (racist, ableist, homophobe, transphobes [inclu exclus/transmeds and transmisogynists], inter+exorsexist (inclu transX/transID ["transitioning to intersex/black/harmful/etc"] etc), if you use "misandrodorks" / "theyfab", or otherwise DON'T believe there's any type of oppression specifically faced by (or disproportionately affects) transmascs, or if you are a self ID'd baeddel, radfem, febfem, rad/LSD/basedqueer. As well as if you follow/reblog heavily from Plaidos (a known transphobe) or strawberry-crocodile (transphobic intersexist strawman factory). Furthermore, do not interact if you a supporter the Israel government and their actions or believe rape jokes are funny

Well what about [XYZ]?

Individuals with BIID where their dysphoria is centered around the physical body rather than "not being disabled" are perfectly fine and welcomed here. I do not mind those with alters who understand that their body does not hold the responsibilities of enduring oppressions their marginalized alter would face, and thus will not be fully capable of understanding oppression regarding that minority, who do not describe their discomfort as being "transrace", and uplift voices of the minorities rather than speaking over ("I have a black/transmasc alter so I get to decide what's bigoted" 👎)

More about me:

I am not sure if I have been subjected to the violence of IGM, but I was mistransitioned via hormones, and have physical trauma from the application and assault. I am now re-entransitioning. I grew up as a trans girl and now I'm undoing some of it. I'm definitely not TME, but don't consider myself TMA as binaries (especially ones based on birth assignment "privilege") do not reflect my intersex experience, nor is bigotry based solely on internal identity, but rather influenced by how you are perceived.

I'm really weird abt compliments and tend to get overwhelmed. If it's describing me 👎 Beautiful, gorgeous, pretty, stunning. It's not a compliment to me. If it's describing my things (writing, outfit) then it's fine ig but pretty thin ice. 👍 Dashing, handsome, striking are preferred if you feel so inclined.

I'm autistic, part of a small system, and am disabled with EDS. I use mobility aids daily and struggle to get anywhere without them. Cripplepunk and radinclu

Some posts:

Examining Sax's .018% claim (link)

Tags I'll use often:

#purrspectives for posts I've written or heavily added to. May occasionally contain others posts if I completely agree w them and have no better way to convey

#actually intersex / #actually autistic

#intersex issues / #transmasc issues / #trans issues

#intercommunity discourse / #trans discourse

#trans infighting / #queer infighting

#queer solidarity / #trans solidarity

#intersex history / #transmasc history / #trans history / #queer history

#ableism / #exorsexism / #intersexism / #trans intersexism for posts regarding intersexism from perisex trans people

#intersex theory / #trans theory

#intersex erasure / #transmasc erasure

#antitransmasculinity / #anti transmasculinity / #transandrophobia / #transandromisia

#disability justice

#trans intersex / #transintersex

#system stuff

#trans tag / #trans / #trans positivity

#autistic tag

[annie-creates]

Never felt like dying

Pairing: Andromache of Scythia x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1200

Note: I'm back with another Andromache fic. I don't condone abuse so that fic won't have another part but here's a better one for you. Thank you all for the support and love I'm getting.

“Get your ass back in the game Y/n,” you’ve heard for what felt like the hundredth time.

Andromache was never too soft with you, that could anyone confess. It was hard to tell if it was because she tried really hard to make you one of the best warriors in the field, or if she just genuinely didn’t like you. Your money would be on the second option. Your coming onto the team was much less than ideal, but they couldn’t exactly kick you out even if they wanted to. Or maybe they could and that’s why you put up with the harsh orders rather than test her patience.

“Look alive!” Andy commanded with another set of punches into your stomach you could hardly defend against. “You don’t want to be a burden to our mission, do you?!”

“No…” you answered, insecure face to face with the greatest warrior in human history.

“You don’t want to jeopardize anyone in a fight, do you?!” She asked again.

“No,” you had trouble keeping eye contact when she got so worked up.

“Then pick up your slack, we can’t keep babying you,” Andy seemed she’d happily continue scolding you if she wasn’t interrupted.

“Hey you two, dinner’s ready. Wrap it up for today,” called Joe from the door, your savior for today. “How’s it goin’?” he asked Andy as she passed him.

“I wish I could say it’s going anywhere…” she wasn’t venomous, but her words still hurt you.

It wasn’t like you weren’t trying to get better, every day you got up early to train with the punching bag or run a few laps before most of them even woke up. You never opposed in training that took hours on end, leaving with bruises and broken bones almost daily. But whatever you did you didn’t seem to be able to cross the difference in performance between yourself and the rest of the team. Even Nile, who said wasn’t immortal for more than a few decades, was very obviously miles ahead of you.

As you washed your hands and looked over your bruised face with a black eye in the mirror, you didn’t even feel worthy eating with them. Here they were saving the world day after day and you were more of a burden than help to them. Maybe you should stop trying to play the hero, it was painfully obvious you didn’t have what they had and after months, it didn’t seem like you could ever get on their level, even if you kept taking Andromache’s punches for centuries.

“Hey Y/n, you okay?” Joe asked seeing you deep in thought.

“Yea, I’m fine,” you tried to hide the bruises you felt embarrassed about. “I’m not really hungry anymore guys, thank you. Good night.”

You abruptly left the plate you hardly took anything from and almost ran out of the dinning room not leaving any space for argument. You knew everyone was trying to make you feel welcomed, but it was hard fitting into a group who was together for centuries and only just met you. It wasn’t fair expecting them to just accept you in like that either, but you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Knock on your door snaps you out of your thoughts but you don’t answer, pretending to be asleep. Yet the door opens anyway.

“Can I come in?” Andy asks, there was no way she could be fooled.

“Sure,” you let her in not turning around to look at her.

“You know, when we met Nile, she was a marine cop,” Andromache sits on the edge of your bed nudging your form wrapped in the duvet a little. “And Joe and Nicky literally fought against each other in a war.”

“So?” you say after a heavy sign while she’s lightly smiling after amusing herself.

“So, you shouldn’t feel down just because you’re not as good as they are. They’ve been at this for centuries and even before that, you only just died for the first time…” she wondered off no doubt remembering the time they first met you.

“I bet you wish you didn’t find me back then,” you admit before you can stop and think about what you’re saying.

“That’s not true,” Andy argues with a bit of hurt in her eyes by your words.

“You said it yourself, I’m not getting any better. I’m useless,” you counter, not having a problem being eye to eye with her now.

“Well that was a little over the top…” she admits. “I have to be strict with you in training, that’s how we get better. But it doesn’t mean I hate you… You are part of this team Y/n. And that means we protect you. I always protect you.”

“You’d probably be better off without me,” you say.

“That’s not true. Everyone has a reason why they were chosen for this life, even if you’re not the greatest fighter of all. And I see how hard you work every day, and you have no idea how much I appreciate it,” she seemed very genuine so you decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and believe what she was saying.

The briefing for your next mission came sooner than you’d expect it, and you felt much better about taking the job with everybody else. You still didn’t want for anyone to have to risk for you, so you worked to hold your own as best as possible. In the building however, you quickly counted you were outnumbered and you soon lost the view of who fired which bullet, who threw all the punches and how many wounds you all got. Screams and shouts of order were falling from both sides, soldiers hitting the floor left and right.

“Watch out!” you screamed at Nile pulling her from the trajectory of another bullet.

You saw her shouting something back, but you couldn’t really make out what she was saying. It took a few seconds to register in your brain that something is wrong, and that wrong was a bullet in your chest leaving a wound that was quicky seeping out all your blood. You thought how disappointed they’re gonna be in you before your vision faded into darkness and you hardly heard your own body hit the floor.

You came to yourself in a moving car, unsure of your surroundings for a moment before you realized your head was prompted on somebody’s lap. It was still throbbing but the ringing in your ears was quicky fading. You never felt like dying for someone but now it was inevitable, and something told you that just like it wasn’t the first time, it wasn’t your last either.

“We’ve got her back,” Andromache announced from above you with a relief heavy on her tone. “How you feelin’?”

“Like I was hit by a wall of bricks,” you admit groggily, looking into her happy face as she stroked your hair.

“We’ll work on your self-awareness,“ she promises with a little smile.

“Good, I don’t feel like dying anymore,” you laugh with the team as they take you back to safety.

Andromache was right in one thing, they’ll always have your back.

[freeworldallahmbaclass]

I got 2018 GQ Man of the year honors shared with me as Henry Goulding thank you to him for accepting that award for us m I've been getting man of the year since 2015 - 2020 then got 2021 , 2022 that one I got from Jail , Time magazine man of the year 2022 shared honors with New York Yankees player Aaron Judge and named the 16th captain of New York City in New york city history thanks to the New York Yankees and Aaron Judge of the New York Yankees 2022 all the while in prison I got those awards true story probably one of the first to get awards and bring the world toward me wherever I'm at and congratulations to my cannabis stores in New York City I sponsor them just pull up in your truck or Benz run in the store where Kay Jewelers was at Down Town Brooklyn New York and buy some weed run in the store get your sneakers from the Jordan store 🏬 then your clothes from Macy's and get you some good weed where the Kay Jewelers was at and do you brother enjoy yourself things are getting much better , anyway this is my schedule for 2024 and imagine a school that teaches these subjects from a black royal couple Jay Z and Beyonce the Carter family .

Roc Nation university

My 2024 daily schedule - Recording artist

school schedule on Roc Nation campus everywhere I go is there campus

My personal class schedule :

Operation management for dummies Small business for dummies Quality control for dummies Retail business kit for dummies Music business for dummies Home recording for dummies Management Branding for dummies

Class upon class and so much subjects to learn this year balanced with staying fresh and getting athletic , just learning academics and athletics after physical fitness training then working and recording music . I'm moving on from this page now hopefully helps everywhere that needs it this is my last post on my social media page .

This page is very true

Very true sponsored by Jay Z , Kanye West , Beyonce Knowles Carter and their daughter Blue Ivy and me their son the new son Allen Henry aka Free World Allah aka SIR we sponsor this page thank you it has been fun thanks .

You are welcome for my help on this page to the people MK Michael Drayton keep your career going we love the music and your style please keep us in tune your music is hot and I support it and I know your fans love your music you going platinum true story your music hot we friends for life love your old brother and friend we will always be brothers to each other friends congratulations on your wifey and all that you doing real good living good music good and stress out of your life he good music good greatest quotes about good old friend of mines , thanks for everything . I believe in sportsmanship playing the game fair I got my second chance and second stage let me play let me compete let me play my sport rap music is my sport and I got a second chance and second stage for it , congratulations to Vado and our mutual friend MK Michael Drayton making his way back to the stage and music recording booth player and coach for real I learned a lot from him when we grew up together his mother and aunts and cousins raised me where family and sometimes sadly that don't change I'm still family to our aunts , cousins , nephews and nieces all in Chicago and New York City and happy to see ESPN announce his return to the stage , music videos a d recording congratulations to Harlemites Cam'ron , Jim Jones , Dave East , MK and it is excluding me this season I'm going left with ROC Nation Jay ordered me to get my education my second chance at that getting my life together I finish that on time I get to play with my other teammates over there at Roc Nation , but congratulations to my old stomping grounds and them make it back to the front of the room and front of the stage and ESPN announcing it that is big congratulations now I go off in my journey and my process .

My story

A beautiful woman got my heart a couple of beautiful women got my heart I think you know them they are famous girls famous women , wish me luck with a good life I'm looking toward my curse being broken so I could do what I love record music either way I am going to record and perform music like my second stage said I rather just do it without this curse on me this voodoo hex I want them off me so olI could live my life in peace but I'm going ahead with my projects later this year and compete that is the only revenge or vengefulness I would of felt but I'm focus and see only good things about me my perspective is fixed about everything about me I finally love me and it is all because of God my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ that is major putting God first in my life now it make life all the more better for me now thank you for letting me share that with you goodbye 🫂 and take care of yourself 💖 .

[voidartisan]

Rebel Dashboard Simulator

🦎 lekkuhaver

😎 free-dantooine-deactivated-7976-994-5

this galaxy is so humancentric it hurts. "humanoid" this "near-human" that. don't care if they're the most abundant species overall they make up less than forty percent of sentient species. i hope you all realize how kriffing stupid you sound

🙍 steela-gerrera-lives Follow

i mean op makes a good point but aren't they also an order 66 apologist???

😎 free-dantooine-deactivated-7976-994-5

when will you idiots realize the Jedi were created to uphold the status quo. they were no better than stormtroopers and the galaxy is better off without them. fks

🚀 podracing-analyst Follow

the Jedi were a religious order???? not law enforcement???? stop spreading misinformation if you want ppl to take you seriously

the Jedi did have powers of arrest but that was because they were diplomats and bodyguards. they were arresting assassins, corrupt officials, mercenaries, slavers and crime bosses (y'know, people who were actually actively upholding and profiting off of oppressive social conditions), not shoplifters or protestors. the only reason that they came under Senate authority in the first place was because they were actively attempting to prevent themselves from becoming too powerful.

they were also second-class citizens in many ways (unpaid for their labor, no rep in the Senate despite depending on it for support, etc). stop slandering minority religious groups.

🦎 lekkuhaver

also here to say that even if the Jedi were law enforcement, the purge was still a genocide. they had centuries (if not millennia) of history, art, religious practice, and other culture that's just been completely erased. not to mention that literal CHILDREN were slaughtered during knightfall. kids incapable of what you're attributing to them.

#i mean I pretty much agree with the first point being a twi'lek myself #but can we stop misrepresenting the Jedi for two minutes??? #also don't go in the notes it's a bloodbath in there #tw:genocide #tw:child death #discourse tag #lekki talks

(24.3k notes)

🎨 spectre-spraypaint

thinking about dyeing my hair again but there are too many options

(98 notes)

🎨 spectre-spraypaint

😺 jabba-calrissian Follow

help how do I spumblr

🎨 spectre-spraypaint

this my little brother btw. you should welcome him with your bestworst anon hate

(2 notes)

🐈‍⬛ tooka-pics-daily

#tooka #lothcat #cute #photography

(12 notes)

🏔 queenofthehills

🏳‍🌈 gay-holofilm-society Follow

idk maybe i've been archiving suppressed clone wars records for too long. but. is it just me or is this shot of the Jedi general of the 3rd systems army kinda 👀

🌛 gungan-conspiracy Follow

holy force are there rebels young enough to not know who kriffing. obi-wan kenobi is

🎤 rebotastic Follow

great maker this image is giving me flashbacks to the jedi rpf discourse

🤖 protocol-droid-rebellion Follow

remember when that one spiktoker got investigated by the GAR during the clone wars for apparently including part of a classified holovid in one of their edits? those were the days

🧑‍🎤 myastromechromance Follow

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

#FRRRRR #i still remember when rpf with him got popular #all of stewjonblr was flooded with asks about pet names in "stewjonian" #as if there's just one language and clan kenobi isn't incredibly large #encompassing multiple dialects #like girl even if i wanted to help you i couldn't #are u even sure he speaks his native language anymore. he was inducted as a toddler #anyway its too bad I got sick of his face seeing as he's a planetary treasure and all

(13.2k notes)

🥫 redrationbars

🔫 shabuir Follow

does anyone even like jogan fruit tho

🐐 tauntaunonhoth Follow

hey op who did you have to kill for that url

#mando heritage post #queue

(346.9k notes)

⚔ snips-in-space

ngl I totally forgot this account existed

(26.9k notes)

🦎 lekkuhaver

🌆 coruscant-official Follow

Don't forget to visit the lower levels during your time with us! The garbage piles and casual violence due complete neglect by the planetary government are part of the charm!

(92 notes)

🥫 redrationbars

hey so what's up with this empire thing

#outer rim posting #this is satire to be clear

(45 notes)

🖋 set-vere-red-string

people on here really need to learn how to use a readmore link. I don't want to have to scroll past your entire bail organa x reader fic to find posts about the man's politics

(3 notes)

👬 clone-posting-central

☄ venator-class-hyperfixation Follow

if I didn't want clones fraternizing with civilians then I simply would not clone the hottest man in the galaxy. rip to the kaminoans but i'm different

🌄 tatooine-sunsets Follow

hey bez not to kill the joke but. do you know what happened to kamino

☄ venator-class-hyperfixation Follow

what do you mean. what. what happened

🪙 keepingupwiththepapanoidas Follow

investing at twenty notes

☄ venator-class-hyperfixation Follow

DONT DO THIS TO ME I DIDJHNT KNOWKJ

#we are pretty good looking huh :)

(27.5k notes)

🙈 bytenebrousthiscantbehappening

🌌 hyperdrive-engaged Follow

look. i've worked in a shipyard for a long time. i've seen a lot of stuff. but what the KARK is this

Read more

🔎 identifying-starships-in-posts Follow

looks like a YT-1300 light freighter. older correllian model, highly prized but not super common. it does have some uhhh interesting mods

#i LOVE yt-1300s #too bad you have to be either rich or a chronic gambler to get one these days

(62 notes)

🖋 set-vere-red-string

🧑‍🎤 myastromechromance Follow

anyone else seen this recording of palaptine tripping over his own robes yet

🏵 rebel-scum Follow

omf no that's hilarious

📕 hero-with-a-lot-of-fears Follow

old prune had it coming

#q

(16.5k notes)

[emma-dennehy-presents]

Celebrating Black Queer Icons:

Marsha "Pay It No Mind" Johnson

Johnson was born August 24, 1945. A drag queen and sex worker, after moving to New York City from Elizabeth, New Jersey, Johnson is probably best known for participation in Queer Liberation and AIDS activism from 1969 until her death in 1992. While often associated with transgender women, Johnson self identified as gay, a transvestite, and a queen and actively distinguished her identity from the contemporary transsexual community. As for Johnson's gender? Well, pay it no mind. Johnson's activism began in 1969 after being involved in the Stonewall Inn Riots. She is often attributed as being in the riot's vanguard, alongside Zazu Nova and Jackie Hormona. Johnson would later go on to deny this, and is quoted as saying she did not arrive until after the riots had already started. Johnson would later go on to join the Gay Liberation Front and co-found STAR (Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries), with Silvia Rivera. STAR would open the STAR House in 1970, which acted as a home for gay and trans homeless youths. In 1973 Johnson and Rivera were both temporarily banned by a gay/lesbian committee, from participating in pride parades, because it was said queens were giving the movement "a bad name". This did not deter Johnson. Starting in 1980 Johnson began living with fellow activist, Randy Wicker, and his partner. Johnson, who was HIV positive, would later become Wicker's partner's caregiver as they became terminally ill due to AIDS. After visiting Wicker's partner in the hospital Johnson became dedicated to spending time with AIDS patients and engaged in street actions with groups like ACT UP. Johnson was a deeply religious person throughout her life. Primarily Catholic, Johnson was said to have a very direct and personal relationship with divinity. On July 6, 1992, Johnson's body was found in the Hudson River. Johnson was cremated and after a march down 7th Avenue her ashes were spread in the Hudson. While initially ruled a suicide by the NYPD, this is highly contested to this day, with good reason. In 2002 Johnson's death was reclassified as Undetermined, and efforts in 2012 and 2016 have seen moderate success in getting the case reopened and re-investigated.

In the wake of her death Marsha P Johnson has become a nigh universal icon in queer communities and seemed like a good starting point for Black History Month. Moving forward I hope to focus on people less known, at least in melanin deficient circles. In a perfect world this would be daily, but I sadly don't have the spoons for it. I will effort to post at least 2-3 of these each week and have a list sufficient enough to carry me through February, and a little beyond. I plan on doing Willmer Broadnax next and have a list going that should cover at least the month of February, and hopefully beyond. Corrections and suggestions are welcome and much desired.

[scotianostra]

October 12th 1929 saw the birth of Magnus Magnusson, writer, broadcaster and quiznmaster in TV programme “Mastermind”.

Magnus was born in Reykjavík but grew up in Edinburgh, where his father, Sigursteinn Magnússon, was the Icelandic consul. Magnus’ Icelandic name at birth was Magnús Sigursteinsson, but in Scotland his family adopted British naming conventions and from childhood he used his father’s patronymic as a surname. Living in Joppa, he was educated at the Edinburgh Academy and was in the school’s marching brass band. So to those saying he’s not Scottish, he did live almost his entire life here.

After graduating from Jesus College, Oxford, Magnusson became a reporter with the Scottish Daily Express and The Scotsman. He went freelance in 1967, then joined the British Broadcasting Corporation, presenting programmes on history and archaeology as well as appearing in news programmes.

He retained his academic connections, however, and was Lord Rector of Edinburgh University from 1975 to 1978 from 2002 served as chancellor of Glasgow Caledonian University. The Magnus Magnusson Fellowship, an intellectual group based at the Glasgow Caledonian University, was named in his honour. Magnusson’s books included I’ve Started so I’ll Finish, a memoir of his years on Mastermind, and Scotland: The Story of a Nation.

Magnus of course is most famous for the quiz show, Mastermind, it was originally broadcast late on a Sunday night and was not expected to receive a huge audience. In 1973 it was moved to a prime-time slot as an emergency replacement for a Leslie Phillips sitcom, Casanova ‘73, which had been moved to a later time following complaints about its risqué content. The quiz subsequently became one of the most-watched shows on television. Magnusson was famous for his catchphrase “I’ve started so I’ll finish,” which was also the title of his history of the show. The original series was also noted for the variety of venues where filming took place—often including academic and ecclesiastical buildings. The last programme of the original series was filmed at St Magnus Cathedral in Orkney.

To further add to Magnus’s credentials for being a Scot he married Glasgow lass Mamie Ian Baird and they had 5 children together, including Reporting Scotland presenter Sally.

On 12th October 2006, his 77th birthday, Magnusson was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Magnusson mordantly noted that “This has to be one of my worst birthdays ever”. His condition forced him to cancel a string of public appearances. He died on 7 January 2007.The Aigas Field Centre a nature centre near Beauly has a building named in his honour.

In 2014 an auction sold off a lot of his belongings for the Scottish based Balmore Trust, a fair trade charity which sells fairly-traded goods in its shop The Coach House and supports projects in Africa, India and the west of Scotland.

Magnus Magnusson, Icelandic by birth Scottish through choice. Anyone still not convinced of his Scottish & Proud credentials, check out this quote from the man “I have got the best of both worlds; growing up in Edinburgh and now living outside Glasgow.”

Scotland is a welcoming country and have a rich culture which comes from all round the world, with his writing and knowledge Magnus brought so much to our country

Magnus Magnusson is buried in Baldernock Churchyard, East Dunbartonshire.

My favourite of the pics is the younger Magnus on Calton Hill, Edinburgh, the colour of The Hotel in the background, is how I remember it having been the window cleaner there before it had a full restoration in the late 80′s. The black and white pic is when he was installed as Rector of Edinburgh University, the pic with the ferry is on Orkney.

[alarrytale]

I know there was a bigger debate yesterday about the more extreme Larry theorists, but I’ve usually just muted and moved on. I don’t like to block if I don’t have to because they are fellow Larries and I think especially with Liam’s passing people are doing what they think is helping by trying to force the investigation. Should they? No because it could be impeding the police & their work but everyone handles grief differently and accepting Liam had an addiction issue may be hard for some to face.

However, I do have a problem with Larries shouting Larry repeatedly and bringing Harry & Louis dolls to Liam’s memorial. That kind of Larrie I can’t be a part of. I was so disappointed this morning when I saw that footage. Unfortunately just because I’m a Larrie I’m now thrown in the same category and honestly they just makes me sad.

Also I know you were asking about neutrals. From what I’ve seen, most believe Harry & Louis were together at one point but they may or may not be in a relationship right now so they take a neutral stance on it. It appears that’s the most consensus anyways. Also they believe F is Louis’ son and not everything points to Larry. I thought at first they were more like shippers but the more Larries I see turning to neutrals and their explanations they sound like more like they’re ok if they’re together or not. I’ve seen a lot that don’t want to be associated with the theorist Larries and therefore, kind of evaluate themselves. I’ve seen too many mutuals do this lately so unfortunately I have to agree with previous anons that say neutrals are becoming more prevalent in the fandom now.

Hi, anon!

But do you really think anything a fan does (speculate on social media) will impede or in anyway impact the investigation? No, it won't. The investigators are professionals and know how to do their job.

Some of your fellow larries will do things that you find inappropriate, over the line, unneccessary, immature and embarrassing. But i think it's important to remember our history and where we come from, and why we are all here. We're here because we recognise two queer, closeted people in a relationship who wants freedom to be out as gay and publicly be together. We're working to make the industry a more queer friendly place, where you're not put in a closet and have to hide your flamboyance. The industry have gone far to hide H and L's relationship, and they've made larries the black sheep of fandom. We're seen as conspiracy theorist, we are silenced and we get bullied, harrassed and laughed at daily. We're surpressed, and get told Louis' hates us. Larries didn’t feel welcomed at Louis' shows, until we made it a safe space and people were brave enough to bring pride flags. We need to be extra brave and extra firm in our beliefs to survive in this fandom.

So when i see someone shouting larry, wearing blue and green, bringing dolls or someone does something else to show that they're proud to be a larrie, even if it's considered not the time, inappropriate or it's embarrassing, i need to remember how brave they are for openly and publicly showing they're a larrie, how larries as a community are strong as fuck for all we have to deal with, and how our voices has been attempted to be supressed time and time again. There is a need for some larries to show they're larries, litterally yell it out, and to show their pride, because of our history. I get it's hard to understand that if you weren't here to experience the fandom larrie witch hunt. But consider all this when you see other larries act this way.

About neutrals, ehh i think it's all a product of not having seen H and L together for years, combined with them both having time off now. There is no new "evidence" being provided. They're not being constantly fed like they're used to being. Some fans need to hear Louis sing about larry everyday in order to stay a larrie. They need constant validation of their beliefs. So now Louis is off tour they're all idk if larry is real lmao. I pity them a bit. Must be annoying to waffle back and forth like that all the time.

I also badly need former larries who think Louis is a dad to sit their ass down, and ask themselves if Louis is into women and if there is evidence of him not being into women (hint! There are way too much tbh), and ask themselves if it's easier to explain larry being real than Louis being a father (another hint! It's way easier to explain larry, and you have to do mental gymnastics to explain Louis being a dad, it's just not possible).