#also Julian has hair

[arty-e]

Since there’s no mini chapter until next week have a small sneak peek

[youngpettyqueen]

thinking about trans Julian again specifically thinking about the idea of Julian being trans but electing to not undergo any gender-affirming surgeries

like I was thinking about this the other day in the context of his line about him and Kira being the only other options for a womb when he had to transplant the baby from Keiko, because the implication that Julian has a womb also implies he's elected out of having a hysterectomy for gender-affirming purposes. I say that because we know gender-affirming surgeries- at least the more cosmetic ones- are very easy to undergo (see Profit and Lace, where they very quickly and easily turn Quark into a woman (yes I know it wasn't gender-affirming for him but its the easiest episode to use for my point)) so I feel like it wouldnt be a reach to say that a hysterectomy would be a fairly easy procedure to ask for and undergo

which as ive been thinking about it more I think this like. perfectly tracks with Julian as a character, that he would opt out of undergoing gender-affirming procedures. because I think, considering what his parents did to him and how strongly he resents it, that he would steer clear of anything he would view as "changing" himself. honestly so far in the future I think its safe to assume views of transitioning are very different, and I'd like to think that there wouldnt be nearly as much social pressure to physically transition at all, but even if there was I think Julian would be very resistant to the idea that he would "have" to change anything about himself. Julian is very unapologetically himself in every regard, so im pretty confident in saying that that would translate over to his gender identity and asserting that he is a man, and he doesnt need to change anything about himself or his body to be one

[rasby]

I know that the arcana fandom loves to give Julian facial hair BUT HERE IS MY TAKE

HE CAN'T GROW FACIAL HAIR that's the only reason he doesn't have a beard (let's be honest, if anyone was gonna have a beard in the entire game, it would be Julian. At least a nice mustache)

Like maybe he grows it but it's in small patches so he shaves it off because it looks stupid. In my mind, if he could HE WOULD

Is this because of trans related reasons? Maybe. Am i projecting my insecurities onto him? Yes, always.

[nightingalesails]

Once Teveri and Avra manage to get Julian into bed, I want them to wake up one morning with his long, long hair tangled across their faces/in their mouths/trying to choke them

After that they decide to make a habit of making sure he at least braids it (or help him to do so) so the tendrils are contained

[murphysiblings]

in these violent delights by micah nemerever, i think if they were anthropomorphic animals julian would be a housecat (obvious choice, there are even moments where he is literally described to be cat-like) & paul would be a fox . classic cat/dog pair but one of them has a prey drive

[realnielsbohr]

i loveee grief fucking up a character so bad they start to become the person they r grieving

[bomber-grl]

Main 6 - Cuddle Headcanons

PAIRING(S): Asra Alnazar x Gn!Reader, Julian Devorak x Gn!Reader, Nadia Satrinava x Gn!Reader, Muriel x Gn!Reader, Portia x Gn!Reader, Lucio x Gn!Reader

.

Cuddling positions are practically never ending with Asra. They love to just be close to you and doesn’t have much of a preference.

However, there are some cuddle positions that are preferred after a long day of existing.

One of them is him laying on your chest. Usually this is your way of helping them unwind, especially when you massage his scalp and play with his hair.

Other than that, just hearing your heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of your chest comforts them, even after all that’s happened.

Then there’s the time when he just wants to show you that he loves you.

This usually prompts them to start kissing you all over your face and you end up falling into his arms, all bundled up by the warm blankets.

Honestly overall, they just love to cuddle in bed with you and whatever position you two end up laying in

Even if it isn’t always the same position you wake up in

Also bonus points if you end up letting Faust cuddle up with you two, she does get cold sometimes yknow

Which she most likely always does end up doing

In Nadia’s route, it’s noted that there is only once bed in the shop so it’s likely Asra and you share it even when you’re not cuddling

So most times he’d fall asleep from exhaustion near you, with faust slithering on him

Probably hugs you around your waist too

And if you try to strike a “sexy” pose he’ll laugh and play along

The worst

Ofc he’s not actually the worst Lucio still exists but the way he cuddles at times is a hit or miss

Especially since most times he ends up sprawling his limbs out wherever they can, usually ending up on top of you unless you spoon him.

When it’s actually enjoyable to cuddle with him, most times he enjoys being spooned or mutual holding.

We all know how self deprecating he is so might as well show him how well he can be loved, even if you’re shorter or smaller, that’s no excuse

Just don’t mind his long limbs

Regardless of how you choose to hold him, he’ll always hold onto you back. Now on the other end of the spectrum where it’s damn near torture-

He has no regard for you- in his sleep at least

Like bro is genuinely squishing you with his limbs, and you can’t even move them because you’re trapped 💔

He probably unknowingly hogs the blanket too since he’s slipped off the bed more times than he’d like to admit and has taken the blanket with him.

He has all his weight on it, making damn near impossible to get the blanket from under him, leaving you shivering and timbering in the cold

If you’d prefer to be the one held then he’d be more than happy to 😭 just be prepared for him to be pretty flustered by being the one “in charge”

He does apologize to you when he wakes up if he’s been squishing you, etc etc though

Mother

She definitely one of the LI that are on the podium of best cuddlers. she holds you so warm and tight it’s honestly the best.

She is not the type to be all that physically affectionate, which is honestly a bummer because her hugs and cuddles are the best ever.

Often times at the end of an exhausting day as countess, she loves to spoil you and hold you in her arms.

She’s more than happy to massage your scalp or shoulders, even feeding you some fruit would be sufficient

Sleep wise, she’s as elegant as she is when she’s awake. Her hair is somehow perfect (must be the rose colored lenses talking-) and she’s not a blanket hogger of any kind

She’s really considerate even in her sleep and she’ll randomly wake up in the middle of the night and look for you

If you’re not covered by the blanket, she’ll tuck you in and go back to bed.

Either that or she’ll also hold you in her arms depending on if she believes that you want your space.

Now, if you’re more a sprawler, always falling off the bed, or just not that pretty of a sleeper she find it super endearing

She’ll literally get up from her cozy place on the bed to help you back up. Even going as far as carrying you if that’s what would be more comfortable.

Now, we all know Nadia prefers to be the one “in charge” she prefers to pamper and that’s alright.

But, if you prefer to also show her your affection that same way she’ll be more than happy to oblige- although it’ll be done with a blush.

When cuddling Muriel is super gentle and is hyper aware because of his larger stature, making him scared at the possibility of hurting you.

Which, you have to reassure him would never happen because you’d be happy to be crushed by him

With your constant reassurance and how often you tend to flop yourself on top of him, he eventually just gets used to it.

Cuddle wise, he’s usually big spoon for obvious reasons, he’ll hold you against his chest too along with Inanna being sandwiched by you both.

Again, you tend to be the one laying on him and when he chooses to sleep on his back, you’re laying on his chest and just absorbing his warmth.

I think it’d be obvious, but Muriel would also enjoy being held aswell. When you confront him with the idea he’s flustered because not only has he never considered it but he’s so touch starved.

If you have him lay his head on your chest, being held in your arms or even go as far as have him be little spoon, well his blush is out of this world.

If anything, he’s just happy that you’d want him to feel loved, as if you being around him isn’t enough

It isn’t

He’s basically beet red and he just accepts the affection ,laying there with you because again, he loves it.

Whenever/ if he tries to argue and say that he’s too big or whatever just say that you want him 🔛🔝 of you and just watch him squirm and get so flustered that he forgets

He ends up inevitably bringing it up again, so just cuddle the man

Sleep wise, Muriel is also really considerate. He tries not to take as much space and if you end up subconsciously tugging a blanket that he’s on, he’ll immediately move to give it to you.

Treat him well.

Yes, yes, yes, just yes

She’s the absolute best person to cuddle with, she’s such a cuddle bug and honestly neither of you guys have a preference most times and so it ends in just cuddling however.

Most times it’s either of you on the others chest. Mostly it’s Portia that enjoys having you rest on her and she enjoys playing with your hair or just massaging your scalp.

She’s more than happy to be the big spoon if that’s what you prefer, maybe she’d even tease you for being so “bold” as to ask.

Ironic considering that the instant that you insist on coddling her she’s flushed from head to toe.

Literally almost literally every time you two cuddle she’ll always put a leg over you.

Just a quirk of hers that you’ve noticed and a definite plus is how warm she is which causes you to cling to her.

Which definitely warrants some teasing for clinging onto her like some koala. She finds it endearing though and is definitely worth is since she ends up peppering kisses all over your face

W

Is it really cuddling with Portia if you exclude Pepi? No, no it’s not

Pepi is so cute!! It’s a well known fact and she’ll always end up crawling and making her way through the bundle of blankets to rest her little self in between you and Portia.

Sleep wise, Portia is also a hit or miss 😭

She’ll either cling to you in her sleep while also being considerate so it’s not bothersome

Or she’ll sleep lazily and drool a bit, causing her to be a bit embarrassed once she finally wakes up.

The worst motherfucker to cuddle with, EVER (up to interpretation whether it’s said with love)

Not likely)

Like he sleeps in either of two ways and neither of them are necessarily the best.

The first way is him being all lovey dovey and cuddly with you while the second one makes you wish death (again) upon him.

The first one is admittedly really nice. He’s in your arms and just being the needy, clingy bastard we all know Lucio to be.

It’s not so nice because of how this doesn’t change even during the summer time. You’ll definitely end up getting a heatstroke because of him clinging onto you one day.

That’s just the first way though.

The second way is him being sprawled out all over you without a care in the world.

His limbs are so freaking heavy too, it’s not like you could escape even if you desperately wanted to.

Worst part? He steals the fucking blanket all the time

Literally refuses to let go of his weirdly tight grip on the blanket in his sleep, leaving you shivering and timbering all night.

And then he has the audacity of getting mad at you for pushing him off the bed.

Smh

That’s all i have on this fucker

[theonottsbxtch]

WAR IS OVER | CL16

an: this has been in my drafts for so long and i’ve been so excited to share it with all of you! listen to happy xmas by john lennon to enhance experience or whatever. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!! (if you don’t celebrate, then happy holidays and happy new year!) also this is low-key slightly angsty and emotional but HEA!!

airforce!charles x reader

wc: 2.8k

Snowfall had begun in earnest that December, blanketing the village in a hush so profound it felt as though the world itself were holding its breath. The young woman stood at the kitchen sink, hands submerged in icy dishwater, staring absently out the frost-etched window. The sky was a pale grey, a curtain of wintry gloom stretched thin over rooftops where chimneys smoked and whispered of warmth.

She glanced down at her hands, red from the cold despite the scarf wrapped snug around her wrists, and sighed. Dorothy and Julian were in the parlour, their laughter spilling into the house like sunlight. Dorothy had spent the morning cutting paper chains while Julian orchestrated a kingdom of tin soldiers on the hearth. Their joy pierced her heart like shards of glass—a reminder of Charles. Julian’s unruly hair fell into his eyes just the way his father’s had, and Dorothy’s cheeky smile carried the same tilt of mischief.

The letter was still hidden in her dresser drawer, folded too neatly for something so devastating. It had arrived in the brittle chill of early November, its official tone draining all warmth from the room as she read the curt words: "Presumed missing, believed dead." Protocol, they’d called it. A mechanism for closing doors, for stitching the torn fabric of lives left behind. But the wound in her heart remained unsewn.

The children didn’t know. How could they? She had tucked the grief away, smothering it beneath cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “Mummy, can we have plum pudding this year?” Dorothy had asked, her face aglow with anticipation. She had forced a smile then, nodding and promising, though the thought of Christmas without Charles’s deep laugh, his steady presence, seemed unbearable.

As the evening descended, the village grew quiet save for the occasional crunch of boots on snow as neighbours hurried home. The lights on the tree—a scraggly thing Julian had insisted was perfect when they’d brought it in—glimmered faintly, their glow reflected in the baubles Charles had hung last year. She turned away, blinking back tears, and began laying the table for supper.

That night, as she tucked Dorothy and Julian into bed, their excitement was infectious. “Father Christmas is coming soon!” Julian declared, his small fists clutching the quilt.

“He won’t forget our house, will he?” Dorothy asked, her voice serious.

“Of course not,” she replied, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. She kissed their foreheads, inhaling their innocent warmth, and closed the door quietly behind her.

In the stillness of her bedroom, she unfolded the letter once more. The inked words blurred as she stared at them. It was easier, somehow, to believe that the man who had written her so many tender notes, who had kissed her hand on their wedding day, was merely gone for now. Lost but not beyond reach. Yet the shadows of doubt loomed larger with each passing day.

She had told no one. Not her neighbours, whose own husbands and sons littered foreign graves. Not her children, who still whispered prayers for their father each night. She carried it silently, a solitary burden she could neither lay down nor bear much longer.

Outside, the bells of St. Mary’s chimed the hour, each peal a cruel reminder of time’s unyielding march towards Christmas. A Christmas that loomed hollow and bereft. She pressed her forehead to the cold glass, her breath misting the windowpane. Beyond, the world glittered as if untouched by sorrow, as if unaware of her breaking heart.

Christmas morning arrived with the world awash in golden light, the snow outside sparkling like diamonds. Dorothy and Julian burst into her room, their faces alight with the boundless excitement of the day.

“Mum! It’s Christmas!” Julian shouted, already tugging her from her bed.

Dorothy held a small package, wrapped in newspaper and tied with string. “This one’s for you! We saved it, just for today.”

The sight of their shining faces filled her with guilt and gratitude in equal measure. She managed a smile, sitting with them by the hearth as they tore into their small pile of gifts. Wooden soldiers for Julian, a tin tea set for Dorothy—modest treasures in a time of rationing, but enough to spark joy in her children.

As they played, a commotion erupted outside. Shouts echoed down the cobbled street, punctuated by the sharp clang of a handbell.

“The war is over! It’s over!”

She froze, the words piercing through her like sunlight breaking a storm. From her seat on the rug, Dorothy gasped. “Mummy, does that mean Daddy’s coming home?”

She couldn’t speak, the question lodging like a thorn in her throat. All she could do was pull them close, and smile.

“Let’s go outside and celebrate!” She replied instead, walking over to the coat hangers.

She bundled the children into their coats and scarves, their squeals of excitement filling the small house. Dorothy’s cheeks were already pink with joy, her hands fumbling with her mittens.

“Mummy, hurry!” Julian urged, hopping from foot to foot. “We have to go see!”

She forced a smile and kissed the top of his head. “Go on, both of you. I’ll be just a moment.”

The children dashed out into the snow, their laughter spilling down the lane to join the jubilant cries of the neighbours. She closed the door softly behind them, the house falling quiet once more.

Leaning against the door, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Her hands trembled as she pressed them to her face, the tears spilling unchecked now that no one was there to see. The news should have been a balm, but it felt more like a cruel twist. The war was over, but Charles would not be coming back with the others. She was sure of it now, the hope that had lingered for so long finally extinguished.

The house felt cavernous again, the weight of her solitude pressing down on her chest. She moved into the kitchen, the floorboards creaking underfoot. The sight of the breakfast dishes—half-eaten toast and crumbs left behind in the morning’s rush—only deepened her ache.

She braced herself against the sink, staring out at the frost-covered garden. Her shoulders shook, the sobs spilling out of her like waves breaking against a crumbling shore. She had carried this grief alone for so long, but now it threatened to consume her entirely.

“Mummy?”

The soft voice startled her, and she turned to find Dorothy standing in the doorway, her small face pinched with concern.

“Why are you crying?” Dorothy asked, stepping forward with cautious, measured steps.

“I’m not, darling,” she lied, hastily dabbing at her cheeks.

“You are,” Dorothy said plainly, slipping her hand into her mother’s. “But you don’t have to. The war’s over, and Daddy would want us to be happy. You should come outside. Everyone’s singing.”

The simplicity of her daughter’s words cut straight through her. She knelt, wrapping Dorothy in a fierce hug, the warmth of her small body grounding her.

“All right, love,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Let’s go and celebrate.”

Dorothy smiled and tugged her hand, leading her to the door.

The street was alive with celebration. Neighbours who had spent years steeped in quiet, rationed hardship now spilled into the snow-covered road, their faces alight with relief and joy. Someone had hauled a wireless outside, the strains of carols mingling with the jubilant cheers. A man passed with a tray of mince pies, offering one to Julian, who accepted with sticky-fingered glee.

Dorothy twirled in circles, her arms outstretched as snowflakes caught in her hair. Her mother stood at the edge of the crowd, watching her children with a tender ache. For their sake, she tried to let herself feel the joy that surrounded her, to bask in the miracle of peace.

“Mummy, look!” Julian called, pointing to a group of men raising a toast with tin mugs. “Maybe Daddy’s with them!”

Her breath caught. She scanned the crowd reflexively, knowing in her heart she wouldn’t find him there. Yet she let Julian cling to the hope she couldn’t bear to shatter.

As the afternoon waned, she gathered her children, their cheeks red from the cold, their hands clutching treasures gifted by neighbours—sweets, a small wooden horse for Julian, a knitted scarf for Dorothy.

Inside, the warmth of the house embraced them, the fire crackling merrily in the grate. She shepherded them upstairs, brushing away their protestations.

“Christmas isn’t over, Mummy,” Dorothy said, yawning despite herself.

“No, it isn’t,” she said with a small smile, tucking her daughter in snugly. “There’s still tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after that.”

She kissed their foreheads, lingering just a moment longer to drink in their innocence. How had they carried on, so untouched by the weight that threatened to crush her? She envied them their resilience, their belief that the world could be made whole again.

Once they were asleep, she descended the stairs, the house eerily quiet once more. The fire in the hearth glowed faintly, its light casting long shadows across the room. She settled into her worn chair, pulling a shawl around her shoulders, her hands curled around a steaming mug.

The world outside had stilled. The street celebrations had quieted, the snow falling again in soft, measured drifts. Her thoughts wandered to Charles, as they always did when the house was silent. She tried to picture his face as it had been the last time she saw him, standing tall in his uniform, a brave smile hiding the fear she knew he felt.

A sharp knock broke through her reverie. She startled, her mug slipping from her hands and clattering to the floor. For a moment, she sat frozen, her heart racing. Who could be calling at this hour?

She rose slowly, her legs trembling as she crossed the room. The cold air seeped in as she opened the door, her breath catching in her throat.

There he stood, framed by the golden glow of the streetlamp behind him. His uniform was tattered, his face pale with exhaustion, but it was him—Charles.

“Hello, love,” he said softly, his voice hoarse but warm, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Her hand flew to her mouth, a sob escaping her lips as the weight of the months, the grief and fear, melted away all at once. “I thought you were dead,” she choked, her words barely a whisper.

He stepped forward, his arms wrapping around her tightly, solid and real. She clung to him, her tears soaking into his coat as he murmured soothing words, his voice trembling with emotion.

For the first time in what felt like forever, her heart felt whole.

For a long moment, she couldn’t let go of him. Her hands clung to his coat as if he might vanish if she dared loosen her grip. The snowflakes clinging to his hair melted into beads of water, and his warmth seeped into her, chasing away the cold that had lived in her heart for months.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered again, her voice trembling.

“I nearly was,” he admitted, his voice low, hoarse with emotion and exhaustion. He pulled back slightly to look at her, his hand lifting to brush away her tears. His touch was tender, his fingers lingering as though trying to memorise her face. “There’s so much to tell you, love. The mission went wrong… we were shot down. Most of us didn’t make it. I was captured—held prisoner for weeks.”

She gasped softly, her heart breaking anew at the thought of what he must have endured. “Oh, Charles…”

“It’s over now,” he said, his voice steadying as he cupped her face in his hands. “I escaped when the retreat began. It was a long road back, but I’m here. I’m back. And I’m not going anywhere again. Ever.”

The tears came fresh, her relief pouring out in sobs that wracked her entire frame. He pulled her close, his arms encircling her as he held her tightly, anchoring her in the moment.

When she looked up at him again, he smiled, the lines of weariness softening into something infinitely gentle. She reached up, her hand trembling as she touched his cheek, then leaned in, her lips brushing his. The kiss was slow, delicate, and filled with everything she couldn’t put into words—her anguish, her longing, her love.

When they finally broke apart, his forehead rested against hers, and he let out a soft, shaky breath.

“The kids?” he asked, his voice hushed, as though afraid to disturb the peace of the moment.

She smiled through her tears, taking his hand. “Come on,” she whispered, leading him up the stairs.

The house was quiet save for the creak of the floorboards beneath their feet. She paused at the children’s door, easing it open with care. The soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating Dorothy and Julian as they slept soundly, their faces peaceful.

Charles stepped into the room, his hand still in hers. He knelt by Julian’s bed first, his expression softening as he took in the sight of his son. His fingers brushed the boy’s dark hair, and his throat worked as though he were fighting back tears.

Then he moved to Dorothy, his gaze lingering on her delicate features. She stirred slightly in her sleep, murmuring something incoherent before settling again.

“They’ve grown,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“They have,” she said, her own voice trembling. “They look so much like you.”

He glanced back at her, his eyes shining, and then turned to gaze at them again. “I can’t believe I almost missed this. Missed them.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, the two of them standing together in silence for a long moment, watching their children sleep. It was a moment she thought she’d never have again—a moment that felt too precious to disturb, too fragile to let go.

When they finally left the room, closing the door quietly behind them, he pulled her into his arms once more. “I’m back,” he murmured against her hair. “Back for good. We’re whole again, love. Whole.”

The quiet of the house enveloped them as she led him to their room. The door creaked softly as she pushed it open, revealing the familiar space that had so often been her refuge—and her prison—in his absence. The room felt warmer with him in it, the shadows less oppressive, the air lighter.

Charles stood just inside the doorway, his weary eyes scanning the room, as if grounding himself in the life he had fought so hard to return to. She turned to him, her fingers trembling as they moved to the buttons of his tattered coat.

“Let me,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on her face as she worked the buttons loose, one by one. The coat slipped from his shoulders, heavy with the weight of everything he’d been through. She caught it before it hit the floor, draping it carefully over a chair. When she looked up again, she saw his shirt beneath, threadbare and stained, a testament to all he hadn’t told her yet.

Her breath hitched, and she reached out to touch him—his chest, solid and warm beneath the worn fabric. Her tears came again, spilling silently as she rested her forehead against him.

“War is over, Cha,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “It’s over.”

His hand came up to cup the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair as he held her close. “It’s over,” he echoed softly, his voice steady, as if speaking the words made them real.

They stood like that for a long moment, the only sound the faint crackle of the fire downstairs and the whisper of the snow against the window. She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, and in his eyes, she saw the same relief, the same raw gratitude that coursed through her.

Wordlessly, she led him to the bed, pulling back the quilt she had lain under alone for far too long. He eased down beside her, his body sinking into the mattress with a sigh of exhaustion. She followed, curling against him as he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close.

For the first time in months, the bed didn’t feel so empty, the darkness didn’t seem so vast, and the ache in her chest was no longer unbearable. They lay in silence, the words unspoken between them carried in the warmth of his touch, the steadiness of his breathing.

As sleep began to claim them, she whispered into the stillness, “You’re home, Charles.”

And in the soft darkness, he answered, his voice a balm to her weary soul: “I’m home.”

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow

[muzaktomyears]

Two of Us play notes/thoughts/Easter eggs I noticed

they played solo Beatles tracks as waiting music before the play began so I sat there listening to ‘Monkberry Moon Delight’ with a theatreful of people which was great 

before Paul turns up John is baking(/burning) bread

John is wearing underwear under his dressing gown which obvs had to be but also my suspension of disbelief was CHALLENGED

when Paul rings up to be let in John does a little rhyme to make him prove he is who he says he is. this is not the exact wording but it went something like: "Five little boys in Hamburg did play/All through the night and all through the day/Ingrid the stripper would do anything/But who got the clap? Was it sexy Stu Sutcliffe - or the lead singer in Wings?" and then Paul has to admit it was him who got the clap

when Paul takes his shoes off he also takes his socks off - idk if this is an intentional barefoot Paul thing but it is hilarious later when they're fighting and Paul is about to leave and angrily putting his socks back on

John and Paul have Get Back era hair/beards, which is weird - presumably because they assume people going to see this will also have seen Get Back but might not know their 1976 looks as well?? idk

some of the dialogue and references have been made a bit more British - the skit they do at the piano is now set in a British greasy spoon instead (still with the American accents)

instead of fighting "like the Hatfields and McCoys" they're now fighting like "the Montagues and the Capulets" (👀)

'Sh-Boom' is played on the record player while they smoke weed (Paul uses the album cover to roll the joint)

George and Ringo both get more of a mention! Paul says that George is happy now (John replies that he's not happy, he's reincarnated). John tells Paul a story Ringo told him about going on a bus in NYC and being recognised.

"I'm the best fuck you ever had" is said by John during the fight (Paul replies "If that's your way of saying you were the real brains behind the Beatles-" etc. etc.)

"You should have married me when you had the chance" is said by John during the Yoko/losing my friend bit

"It's only me" as John's way to get Paul not to leave after the fight

when John goes out to get disguises for them Paul sits at the piano and starts playing some notes he finds there (he'd asked about them earlier and John had said they're nothing). we get a few notes of 'Now and Then' before John returns (ghjshgkhgkdshgksd who did this I HATE YOU)

the appearance of the I Love Paul badge!! John wears it on his disguise jacket and Paul asks what it says. John tells him and then Paul replies "Lucky Paul".......

they never go outside in this version - John says he'll go but then thinks better of it. this means that John comes across as even more locked away than he does in the film.

the police bit is sort of done when Paul puts on a leather hat from the disguises and pretends to be a policeman come to question John, who John then talks back at. he also yells out of the window at some police below at one point.

Paul realises they're never actually going to Luigi's, so John lays the table for him as if they're at a restaurant together (including calling him "Lady McCartney" and "my love")

the bit with the fan is sort of recreated but instead it's John asking Paul whether he truly thinks Wings at the Speed of Sound is the number 1 record in America (which obvs changes it quite a lot)

Julian is brought up - they're toasting to various people/things (ending with "Dr. Winston O'Boogie and Paul Ramon") and Paul says "to Julian" and sort of confronts John about him and how he treated him

during the toasting Paul also mentions "putting hair on a seagull's chest" which John questions and then Paul says it's something his dad used to say

I thought the lift scene/roof scene wouldn't be happening... BUT THEN a lift descended from the ceiling ❤️ the magic of theatre

the kiss still happens and idk but I thought the vibe was a bit different from the film version - less jokey (and no lines after about brushing his teeth/is my name Brian)

Paul: I bought into it that you and me didn't get along well (paraphrasing the Stephen Colbert interview)

they hug at the end of the roof conversation (I was sat very close to this since the actors come in front of the stage to do it and they were both crying and it WAS ALL TOO MUCH 😭😭)

John gets them two guitars to practice with before they go out and they sit opposite each other in chairs and Paul says “I know which one to begin with” and John says “What?” and they lean forward and then the phone rings

when Paul leaves John he’s crying and it’s like okay rip out my heart I guess

the play ends with Paul on the phone to Linda and John on the phone to Yoko, at opposite sides of the stage, and they say “I love you” to their wives but also to each other and it’s ridiculous????

yeah then ‘Give Peace a Chance’ plays which is such a bizarre choice idek

anyway who knows if it's a good play or what the actual people there thought about it because obvs I can have no rational reaction to it but I'm so glad I went to see it because someone on the writing team is one of us I SEE YOU

[springcatalyst]

i knew this would happen and it wont be done tonight cause it me bedtime but. when i post this everybody remember that just because singh is hot doesnt mean he isnt terrible. i need u to know this

im trying to finally design Singh and. what the FUCK does his hair look like

[kamisama1kiss]

Okay okay, hear me out…what if the reader was a ninja part of the team but they would also be involved in a prophecy where they end up dying to save their lover, I need the ninja reaction to when Master Wu tells them 🫶🏻

This is actually so sad, tho.... I love it! 🤭😝 I was a little stuck on writing, but I hope I was able to deliver what you wished for 😚🫶

~~~

What would be the ninjas reactions be as the prophecies says they're lover will die for them?

~Lloyd Garmadon~

- Denial is a river in Egypt. Refusing to believe that they would die for the sake of his life.

- No matter how many times he convinces himself, he knows truly he can't do anything to stop it. Further pushing him into no limits of getting stronger to maybe, just maybe prevent it?

- Keeping a watching eye at you at all times to see if you're safe, more so in battles or training.

- Would try to convince you to do other tasks rather than join the team if he knew it could be risky for either you or himself.

- Consently tries to spend as much time with you so that when the time comes, he could make sure to not regret a moment.

- Would often spend time silently watching you just live and socialise with others, his heart falling into his stomach.

- Admiring you and everything about you as a person.

~Kai Smith~

- At first, he just laughed and shook his head. There was no way.

- After maybe a few hours or days, the gravity of it all dawned on him. He couldn't help but feeling so hopeless and useless to not be able to help or postpone it or anything for that matter.

- His mind of having a feature together with you was immediately crushed, all the plans of being able to hold you at night and talk into the long hours of the night.

- In the meantime, he changed a little for you as in allowing you to goof around with his hair as an example.

- Holding hands no matter where you walked to feel you close just to know you weren't gone. Not yet at least.

-Knowing he was absolutely broken after when Nya was gone, he would be just the same with just worse of completely letting guilt eat him up in silence. He would refuse to let anyone know how he felt.

As the hothead, he is the practice dummys would be all burnt to crisp

~Cole Brookstone~

- Again?

- Really? First, his own mother. Now, the one person he loves with the whole being of himself

- No matter how much he tried to collect himself, he could easily take it out on training.

- Would at some point start to distance himself from you so when the time came, the impact would be less painful.

- Didn't want to be like his father with absolutely neglecting everything when you we're gone, but anyhow, he tried to smile to everyone and act chill like he usually would.

- Often held his breath when holding you close, wishing for these types of moments to never end.

~Zane Julian~

- He was obvious to the fact that the one he loves could so easily die, but he could live on for many years on.

- Has already been over this with himself, but hearing it being sooner than expected shocked him.

- Acting no different than normally maybe a few occasional more hugs throughout the day, nothing too out of the ordinary.

- When he was alone, his way of grief was meditate. Maybe it could make the damage a little easier for his wires to handle?

- Occasionally turning off the emotions to just feel as if he could "breath" as it did get to his head at times more than he'd like to admit it ever did.

~Jay Walker~

- Immediately lost himself as he shook his head, refusing to belive what a dumb scroll had to say! It's dumb right?

- Spending every waking minute of his day with you by his side, alongside helping you with everything he could think of.

- Coping with occasionally stealing shirts with your smell on them to feel as if you mext to him, even though you are just a few doors down or so

- Would slowly communicate with others as he became more silent, which scared everyone. Everyone stood on their toes around him to not further upset him.

- He came in clutch and used every single excuse possible to man kind to have you for himself the first week or two after getting to know. He felt kind of pushy so he calmed down a little.

~Nya Smith~

- She genuinely just accepted it, what more could she say? The prophecy says so, she cannot deny it no matter how much this frustrated her.

- Checking up on you and acting for the most sake normal, as to not make you uncomfortable or worried for her sake.

- Used any or all frustration on training her powers in different ways, which was beneficial for her in the long right?

- Just like her brother, there was no communication from her side. Whenever the topic of prophecy popped up, she went silent and stood next to you, holding pinkys.

- Would cry to herself whenever everything got to her, just knowing you're gonna to eventually leave it snapped her multiple times. She would always refuse.

~~~

I've reached over 25 posts :00 and also over 50 followers!!! THANK YOU, EVERYONE 😭🙏🙏 I appreciate every single one of you so much

[little-cereal-draws]

If Ghosts had a more mature rating and was able to do more creepy ghost powers/death side effects:

Pat, Humphrey, and Thomas are eternally bleeding. Their clothes are wet, their hand gets wet from touching it, they'll leave trails of blood down the hall, etc. The blood on their hand or the floor disappears pretty quickly as their ghost powers make them reset but their clothes are always soaked

Thomas's whole stomach and the top of his pants are bloodstained. Pat's is all located on his shoulders/necktie and has the most obvious stains due to the color difference of his clothes. There are a few drops here and there down his sleeves and chest. It's pretty heavy because of the major arteries the neck that would've been punctured. Humphrey's is by fair the heaviest and is all over the front of his torso. Like the whole thing. When he died he fell face down into the growing puddle of blood that would've been pooling from his stump

Fanny can turn her head frighteningly far. There's a sick crunching sound that happens when she does this and it always sends shivers down Alison's spine even after years of hearing it. The other ghosts have joked and compared Fanny to an owl because of this and she chews them out every time

Pat coughs a lot because he's got blood stuck in his throat. He'll randomly have a huge coughing fit, cough a bunch of blood into his hand and then go "Oh no. Anyways..." He also has trouble breathing and has to take breaks to sit down during physical activities like dancing or running. It annoying but not too much of a hindrance to his daily life; it's like having asthma or allergies. The blood can make his voice sound a little weird sometimes too, like he's gurgling smth while he talks. He just clears his throat and keeps going

The plague ghosts vomit up bile every once in a while. It's black, steaming, and putrid but disappears almost instantly

Kitty also throws up when she's excited... which is a lot. She also gets chills, lightheadedness, fevers, and uncontrollable shaking. There's not much the other ghosts or Alison can do to help her besides sitting with her/trying to distract her. She'll lay down and try to breathe through it while Alison reads her a story or the Captain infodumps abt smth or Robin holds her hand. Sometimes she falls asleep, sometimes she doesn't. She's always better after a few hours tho

Fanny gets really bad migraines. Alison's theory is that they're caused by her broken vertebra. Fanny doesn't particularly care why they happen. When they happen, she's in an even worse mood than usual so it's best to steer clear of her. She doesn't have the energy to yell at ppl but will remember the slightest fault and wait until she's better to go on a lecture. Again, there's not much Alison or the other ghosts can do to help besides let her lay down and try to be quiet

Mary and Robin's skin peels off. It's white and flaky and leaves raw red spots underneath. The dead skin disappears once it leaves them but the skin underneath is never healthy and flakes off too

Both Robin and Mary smell like burning flesh but only Mary is detectable by living people. Robin only smells when he uses his powers. It really puts a lot of the ghosts off, especially newer ones

Robin's body also gets affected by his powers in other ways. If it's something small like flickering a light, his hair will stand on end. Something bigger like turning a light on/off or flickering a more powerful light will cause him to spasm. It's usually just his arms and wears off after a minute. Smth really big like redirecting that lightning bolt for Mike will be the equivalent of him actually getting hit w the lightning. His body seizes up, falls over unresponsive and twitching for several minutes, but he's always ok in the end. Alison and the other ghosts get very worried but he walks it off

Julian and the Captain both feel remnants of their heart attacks. Shortness of breath, tingling/numbness in the arms, dizziness, heart palpitations, etc. They both choose to keep it a secret from the others and cover it up but if they're particularly stressed abt smth, they'll start getting chest pains which is harder to cover up. The Captain has excused himself from many social situations to go sit on the floor and try to breathe through the pain and calm his heart. Robin's the only one who knows about Julian's because it happened once while they were hanging out. Logically, they both know they can't die again but it's still scary

Mary likes to sit in the lake because even tho she can't feel it like she would if she was alive, the cold water is soothing on her burns

All the ghosts have days where they just lay abt bc the pain is too much to move. From who does it the most to who does it the least it goes Mary, Humphrey, Pat, Fanny, Thomas, Kitty, Robin, the Captain, Julian

[inexplicifics]

I'm thoroughly intrigued by G/J whipping boy warlord AU, and I also love outsider POV's so maybe L/M outsider POV too if you're feeling extra generous?

And for the heck of it, can you add Buffalo, NY to the map? So much love to literally everything you write!!!

Sure, have a little more whipping boy!

“Mm,” the scarred witcher says, and glances at the old one, who nods. “Then I am sure you will be pleased to assist our older trainees in learning courtly swordsmanship.” Lord Antos looks pleased. Julian has the sneaking suspicion that isn’t nearly the honor Lord Antos clearly thinks it is. “Right then,” the scarred witcher says. “You two ladies come with me, and we’ll talk to Jan. You,” to Lord Antos, “can go with Vesemir. And you can stay here and discuss things with Geralt and Yennefer.” By which Julian is able to deduce that the old witcher must be Vesemir, and the sorceress Yennefer, which means that the Warlord of the North, the White Wolf feared across the continent, is - Is named Geralt?

Here's a snippet of the outsider POV, which is some variety of modern AU:

She’s chatting with one of the other receptionists near the drinks table when Lambert and his wife arrive. The wife is an entire head shorter than Lambert is, and at least a hundred pounds lighter, with long sleek dark hair pulled back in an elegant braid and absolutely perfect natural makeup emphasizing big dark eyes and delicate features. She’s wearing a blue sundress and elegant strappy sandals. She looks like a porcelain doll; she has one hand tucked into the crook of Lambert’s elbow, and the discrepancy between the two of them is absolutely mind-boggling. And Lambert - rough, crude, hot-tempered Lambert - is looking at her like she hung the moon. He escorts her over to the drinks like a knight in a stage play, glances over the offerings, and says, “Oh, hey, they’ve got that fizzy stuff you like.” “So they do,” the wife agrees, in a soft sweet voice, and takes a can of sparkling lemon water; Lambert, naturally, takes a beer. Emily knows for a fact, because she ordered the catering, that Lambert specifically requested the sparkling lemon water. She noted it at the time because it seemed so out of character.

And finally, hello in Buffalo! Hope you're staying warm!

[azeternasims]

pride hair overlays!

happy pride month! if clothes and accessories aren't enough, here are some overlays for your blorbs to show their pride in their hair!

there are three sets of overlays (full, split and peekaboo) for @raccoonium's shaded textures, including all their newer hairstyles and all of mine! each one has a long and a short version, so the flag doesn't get cut off on short hairs.

and also, two sets of shaved sides textures for undercuts and mohawks! one version layers over the hair's scalp texture and one under it, they both have their ups and downs so try them both out. the texture is based on @simandy's Julian hair, so thanks to both of you for the generous tou!

the slots are the same as Raccoonium's and my existing overlays, the occult slots require CASUnlocks to use on human sims: ~ full head: occult eye socket ~ split: acne ~ peekaboo: occult eye lid or face scar ~ sides: occult mouth or face mole you don't get anything out of layering them, but if you want both versions of peekaboo/sides to avoid conflicts there are merged versions of both with a smaller file size too.

download: sfs ~ drive ~ tou

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[respocked]

garak without any gel or whatever it is all of the cardassians grease down their hair with, maybe he just woke up or ran out of the stuff on ds9. his hair without it is FLUFFY and standing every which way and julian is just like :O

Either their hair does that naturally or Quark has 300 cases of State Honoring Gel (Extra Hold) That Will Make All The Women Want To Breed With You For The Glory Of Cardassia (Military Grade!) in his storage room next to yamok sauce and kanar left over from the occupation

Also sexy/cute hair Garak is a galaxy brain vision, but consider this: since the birds/dinosaurs evolutionary closeness, Garak's bedhead looks like this:

It's okay. Julian still thinks it looks good.

[vaguely-concerned]

okay. listen. a Concept. garashir roughhousing (gone (psycho)sexual) and at one point bashir wakes up from the high of finally getting to express all his repressed aggression in a safe space with someone who not only accepts that in him but can match him and is actively Into It, especially when he stops holding back some of his lil gmo twink strength, to be horrified like 'oh my GOD garak your nose is bleeding hang on I'll get a napkin or something I'm so sorry holy shit' and garak's lying there woozy with lust gazing up at him with wide betrayed eyes like 'no wait don't go you haven't even stabbed me yet :'('

(obviously this is mostly a shitpost, but I'm just saying I think they could provide a certain kind of space for each other that way. julian gets to have a place to live out all the rougher, less socially acceptable sides he usually has to downplay and push away to seem as non-threatening as (augmented) humanly possible with someone who loves him and who appreciates getting the entire spectrum of julian bashir, from the most obnoxiously annoying and needy to the unsettlingly coldly ruthless and back. and garak gets to have the shit beaten out of him in as medically safe and infinitely loving way as possible and/or finds he can still use his bloodied hands and take care of someone with them. this to me is the definition of what one might call a win/win situation. like don't get me wrong they would be having a lot of embarrassingly tender yearning gently-stroking-your-hair-and-holding-your-hand sex too. but. also this. which I think is also very tender, just in a different way. do you feel me.)