#i had to read john slander??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

santanasaintmendes · 4 months ago

Text

singapore lovin’ had me a blast

part2! to the cosmic girl records

¡Cosmic Girl Records!

summary: going to Singapore to support your boyfriend, stealing Alex’s girlfriend and beefing with lando, nothing’s changed really

olliebearman x reader & platonic!grid x reader

fc!: gorgeous girls and couples on pinterest all credits go to rightful owners of the photos used below

a/n: also the timeline and the whole universe in what these smau’s are based in are very different to irl, ollie’s in f1 already and he drives for ferrari, lewis is still in mercedes because it made more sense kind of? I’ll fill in the gaps as we go lol

disclaimer!: there may be some sensitive jokes that may be hurtful to some people, they are all there just for the humour and to make the story more enjoyable, please don’t come after me 😭

also i’m sorry for the english and french slander against lando and pierre it’s purely for humour😔 please don’t take the comments to heart

a/n: the lovely @yawn-zi gave me the courage to post the second part to the cosmic girl records, i hope you didn’t get in trouble for laughing during portuguese class! and a big thank you to @nichmeddarso who rebloged part1 with all those tags it was greatly appreciated!

here you go, enjoy!

liked by landonorris, olliebearman, georgerussell64, lilymhe, alex_albon and 3,849,383 others

unfortunatelyy/n: next stop, Singapore! btw, the sunset was a paid actor ❤️

tagged olliebearman

view 2,473,282 comments

landonorris: for anyone who asks, it was traumatising sitting next to the two of them on the flight

unfortunatelyy/n: so bitter damn

landonorris: BECAUSE WE MISSED OUR PLANE

unfortunatelyy/n: NOT MY FAULT

landonorris: IT WAS MOST DEFINITELY YOUR FAULT

unfortunatelyy/n: OKAY I’M SORRY I LEFT MY PASSPORT IN THE TAXI BUT STILL

landonorris: mhm, sure

unfortunatelyy/n: “mHm sUrE” 🇬🇧🤓☕

landonorris: DIE.

user1: NAH SHE DID HIM SO DIRTY

user7: always count on y/n to keep an aesthetically pleasing instagram page

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

olliebearman: you wouldn’t be able to guess how many times she made me retake that first pic

landonorris: i can 🙄

unfortunatelyy/n: BOTH OF YOU SHUSH

user2: does she actually have a job or does she just follow ollie around 😐

user3: yes she has a job???

user4: it's called taking a vacation, google it?

lilymhe: can’t wait to see you soon bb 🥰

alex_albon: you have a boyfriend???? me??

unfortunatelyy/n: @alex_albon stop being so delusional you sound crazy

alex_albon: @lilymhe are you really going to let her bully me 😰

lilymhe: . . .

alex_albon: 😦

unfortunatelyy/n: the man was too stunned to speak 😱

alex_albon: 🖕

user5: it’s not a y/n insta post without y/n and lily terrorising alex in the comments section

user6: and y/n and lando bickering like the 5 year olds that they are

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, georgerussell64, charles_leclerc, olliebearman and 4,489,383 others

unfortunatelyy/n: some sightseeing and exploring before the weekend with my wifey and . . . boyfriend?

tagged olliebearman and lilymhe

view 3,682,838 comments

user1: Ollie’s officially the third wheel now 😔

user11: a moment of silence for another fallen soldier 🫡

user2: HELP THE FIRST AND SECOND PIC HAVE ME ROLLING ON THE GROUND

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

lilymhe: loved exploring with you. . . and your friend Steve!

user3: HELP

unfortunatelyy/n: it’s okay! he won’t be a problem after this weekend 😃

olliebearman: 😦

user4: homie’s traumatised

alex_albon: . . . it’s okay really. I’m fine. I’m fine.

user5: not alex going through all 5 stages of grief

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user6: I can’t tell which one he’s up to

user5: . . . neither can i.

user7: she’s STUNNING, Ollie better sleep with one eye open tonight

olliebearman: 😰

user8: ollie on any of y/n’s insta posts after reading the comments: 😮😰😔

user10: literally anyone really 😭

alex_albon: @charles_leclerc @georgerussell64 when does it end 😭 please, i’m a desperate man

georgerussell64: we lied 😔

charles_leclerc: it never does.

user9: where’s lando, it’s not a y/n post without him commenting something absurd

landonorris: i have been summoned.

user9: WHAT DID I DO 😰

landonorris: oh so now you have a boyfriend AND a wife? 🤨

unfortunatelyy/n: i thought i could finally post something without you attacking me in my comments section. I WAS WRONG.

landonorris: 🤷‍♂️

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, lilymhe, georgerussell64, charles_leclerc and 5,728,282 others

unfortunatelyy/n: as long as i'm with you, I've got a smile on my face

tagged olliebearman

view 4,282,992 comments

olliebearman: ❤️

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user3: couple goals fr

user5: THE FIRST PIC I CAN’T DECIDE WHO DO WE THINK WON GUYS

user6: y/n, duh.

olliebearman: unfortunately, that is correct 😔

unfortunatelyy/n: that’s me flipping off lando in the distance in the second pic by the way

landonorris: i should be getting paid for taking all these yucky photos of you guys and this is how you repay me?

unfortunatelyy/n: guys what do we think? Has being single finally hit him?

landonorris: that’s it, i’ve had enough, i’m releasing THE video

unfortunatelyy/n: OH YOU WOULDN’T DARE

landonorris: oh yes I would, watch me.

user1: HELP WHAT ARE THE CHILDREN TALKING ABOUT

user9: IDK BUT I CAN’T TELL IF THEY’RE JOKING OR NOT

user10: this turned into a war zone so quickly

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, pierregasly, danielricciardo and 11,749,383 others

unfortunatelyy/n: and due to personal reasons, a human by the name of Lando Norris shan't be getting mentioned in any future posts, so enjoy ✨

tagged landonorris

view 12,483,372 comments

user1: SHE DID NOT HOLD BACK

user2: he’s such an icon fr

user3: he’s never beating the babygirl allegations after this i'm afraid 😔

user4: “thank you y/n” they all said in unison

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

landonorris: I SAID I WAS SORRY LIKE 50 TIMES WHAT MORE DO U WANT

unfortunatelyy/n: i only accept apologies in cash

landonorris: well damn no apology for you then

unfortunatelyy/n: YOU’RE LITERALLY A MILLIONAIRE??? |

landonorris: and your point?

unfortunatelyy/n: i hope you accidentally get a fish burger next time you go for takeout

user10: oop she really went there

unfortunatelyy/n: and i hope you realise after it’s too late

landonorris: GASP. HOW DARE YOU

unfortunatelyy/n: 😃

carlossainz55: *saves photos to camera roll

landonorris: wow.

carlossainz55: for memories, you know?

landonorris: “fOr mEmOriEs yOu kNoW?” SHUT UP YOU MUPPET, YOU’RE REALLY NO HELP YOU KNOW

carlossainz55: so aggressive geez

user5: lando’s fighting for his life in the comments section

pierregasly: lando in the third pic: UWU

landonorris: I- SHUT UP YOU FRENCH HO HO HO BAGUETTE BABY MAN

user8: absolutely violated

unfortunatelyy/n: i’ve sworn to secrecy but since SOMEONE CAN’T KEEP A SECRET, i guess I can’t too. The second pic is me when i forced lando to cook fish for me, hence the disgusted face. it’s safe to say he did not talk to me for 6 months straight after

user6: Y/N, professional exposer

landonorris: HOW COULD YOU, YOU PINKY SWEARED I HATE YOU

carlossainz55: @unfortunatelyy/n: teach me your ways 🙏

unfortunatelyy/n: a magician never reveals their secrets, but i’m no magician so sure

user 7: HELP STOP EXPOSING LANDO

unfortunatelyy/n: never 😤

landonorris: 😭

liked by olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 7,483,832 others

unfortunatelyy/n: always and forever proud of you 🐻

tagged olliebearman

view 6,382,392 comments

olliebearman: oh so that’s why you wanted that photo ☹️

unfortunatelyy/n: sorry love! ❤️

user1: as i clicked into the notification, i thought “at last, a normal sensible post from y/n” i have never been more wrong, WHAT IS THAT SECOND PHOTO Y/N

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user2: a relationship like theirs, it's a need not a want

user3: from spilling pasta on her to becoming her man, talk about upgrades 😌

kimi.antonelli: @unfortunatelyy/n what about the photo I sent for your post

olliebearman: WHAT PHOTO

kimi.antonelli: . . . there’s no photo i have no idea what you’re talking about there’s no photo ahaha

arthur_leclerc: @unfortunatelyy/n what about MY photo of Ollie

dinobeganovic_: @unfortunatelyy/n and mine?

maya_weug: @unfortunatelyy/n mine?

olliebearman: Y/N ANSWER THEM WHAT PHOTOS

unfortunatelyy/n: . . . there’s no photos are you crazy ahahah

user4: the gaslighting goes hard 😭

a/n: thank you everyone for the love that part 1 got! I really appreciated all the likes and reblogs that the post got, i hope you enjoyed part 2 to the cosmic girl records universe. This part was a bit shorter than the first and I have 3 more parts that i’m working on that should be out soon. Thank you and bye for now! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

also should i make a tag list for the series? 🤔

#f1 #f2 #olliebearman x reader #lando norris #george russell #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f2 x reader #f2 smau #cosmic girl records series #cosmic girl records part 2 #Spotify

254 notes · View notes

major-mads · 10 months ago

Text

Chapter 3: Listen to Your Heart

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: I'm so glad y'all are enjoying the series!! Thank you so much for reading!! Us Callum girlies sure got some...cough cough...quality content in episode four, that's for sure! Let me know what you think, and go read the other half of the story using the link below!!! this wonderful gif is by @zsuo!

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 4.7k

August 3rd, 1943

Ruthie, Since Saturday night, you have rarely left my mind. I replay the dance in my head, trying to commit every detail to memory. I love being around you, Ruth. I couldn’t imagine the night going any better than it did, and I’m so glad that you stepped outside of your comfort zone to come with me. Curt’s been giving me a hard time about embarrassing you when I sang, but I told him you loved it, even if I sound like a “dying animal” in Buck’s words. Speaking of Buck, I’ve decided to never let him live down Saturday’s condom incident with Hope. Hugh sure isn’t letting it go, so I can’t help but join in on the fun. Despite that, I think he had a great time with her, even though he’s a total stick in the mud. I can’t believe they didn’t dance, Ruthie! Our dance was my favorite part of the night, besides how we said goodnight, of course.

I would really like to see you again soon, Ruth. It’s no secret that I’m taken with you, and I think you feel the same. We’re spending the next few weeks replacing crews and forts, so we won’t be too busy. If you’re able, please stop by and pay me a visit. At the sight of your sweet, kind smile, and the feeling of your hand in mine, my worries seem to disappear. The only worry left in my mind is that my efforts to convert you to a Yankees fan won’t be successful. I hold onto the hope that you’ll see that the Braves are terrible and that the Yankees are the better team. The Braves went 11 and 18 this past month, and my amazing team went 21 and 11. You can’t argue against stats, slugger. I hope this won’t affect your feelings toward me because then we might have a problem. I can’t wait to see you again soon. Please stay safe up there for me. Your Hotshot, Johnny Egan

August 6th, 1943

Dear John, I am happy to hear that you and the boys are finally getting a break. When we were at the dance, I knew y’all were exhausted, but you sure didn’t show it, Major. You danced and sang like there was no tomorrow, and I had more fun than I had in a long while in your arms. Don’t worry about what Curt or Buck said. I loved your singing, even if it was slightly off-key and very loud. You might have embarrassed me, but seeing you in your element was worth it. Every time I think back to that night, my heart begins to race and I can’t help but smile at the thought of you. I’m so very grateful that you decided to bring me along. Somehow you manage to turn me into a giddy, blushing teenager every time you cross my mind. Our kiss is a cherished memory of mine, and forgive me for being forward, but I hope that we can make more of such memories in the future. Hope had an amazing time with Gale at the dance, and apparently, he wasn’t as much of a “stick in the mud” as you think. I’m sworn to secrecy, but know that they are very fond of each other already. When we got back to Grove the day after the dance, we told Frank what happened with…the incident, and he thought it was hilarious! He even said that he “did his job well,” whatever that means. I would love nothing more than to come see you, but sadly, I don’t know when I’ll be able. Casualties from Italy are getting worse with the invasion of Sicily underway, and we’ve been on runs almost every day since we got back from the dance. Regardless of this, the first chance we get, Hope and I will make our way up to Thorpe Abbotts. I can’t wait to see you again, Johnny, but the blatant slander against the Braves might damage your chances of getting another kiss. We’ll just have to agree to disagree on this because I promise you I am not going to be converted. After all, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right? Don’t hurt yourself falling off your bike during your break. Yours, Ruth Morgan P.S. I would like to meet Meatball the next time I visit the base!

Sunday, August 8th, 1943: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich

The mess hall buzzed with energy as Buck and Johnny sat at breakfast with Curt, who slowly moved his powdered eggs around on his plate with his fork.

“I can’t eat this shit anymore,” he groaned, pushing the plate away from him.

John took a slow sip of his “coffee,” raising an eyebrow at the man. “Then don’t eat it.”

“Oh wow,” Biddick quipped. “What a great idea, Bucky. I’d never thought of that.”

The major smirked behind his mug and shot his friend a wink. Buck watched on in amusement, used to the two going back and forth as he and John did.

Leaning his elbows on the table, Curt leaned over the table toward John with a teasing glare. “Have you heard anything from Ruthie? Has she mentioned me? I thought I made a good first impression the other night.”

“Hmm,” Johnny hummed, pursing his lips for a moment before pointing at Biddick. “That’s Nurse Morgan to you, you dodo. I’m surprised you even remember anything from the dance with how drunk you were.”

“Oh I couldn’t forget a face like that,” he chuckled.

John’s eyes narrowed playfully as he clasped his hands together and leaned on the table. “Well it’s a good thing for me that she could forget yours, then,” he clapped back. “And you’re not the one she kissed goodnight.”

Buck rolled his eyes and continued to eat his breakfast as Egan’s loud, wide-mouthed cackle echoed through the mostly quiet mess hall. Curt then turned to Gale with a raised brow. “How about Hope-”

“Nope,” Buck interrupted calmly, raising his cup and taking a sip of his steaming coffee.

The other two men watched him as a tiny grin formed on the Major’s lips. Although he didn’t talk about it much, they could tell Buck had already developed deep feelings for the woman.

Raising his eyebrows at Curt, John grinned. “Oh boy.”

“You’ve got it bad, Buck,” Biddick laughed, his hand landing on Gale’s shoulder roughly. “You gotten a reply to your letter yet?”

Thinking of the perfectly folded letter from Ruth he’d picked up that morning sitting in his breast pocket, John smiled down at his food, warmth spreading through him at the thought of the blonde. Buck, however, pursed his lips and shook his head at the question.

“I actually haven’t written her yet,” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “I want-”

“What!?” Johnny all but yelled, his eyes widening as coffee almost spewed from his mouth. “Why the hell not, Buck? I already sent one to Ruth and got a response.”

Gale groaned and put down his fork with a clink. “Because of Hugh.”

“Why are you so worried about Charlie?” Curtis asked, wearing a confused expression.

“Because he’s in my squadron. And he’s her brother.”

John pointed and leaned over the table at him. “Hope’s a big girl, Buck. She can make her own decisions. Screw what Hugh says.”

“But-” Gale started but was once again cut off by Bucky.

“He’s gonna hate you even more if he thinks you're leading her on. You not sending Hope a letter isn’t making anything better,” he said, a smirk beginning to tug at his lips as he continued. “On top of the condom situation.”

John and Curt busted out into chuckles as Buck just groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “Oh, please don’t remind me.”

The ideal chatter was disturbed by the door to the mess hall swinging back on its hinges with a crash, followed by heavy footfall as Hugh all but stormed through the building like a tornado. He snatched a mug off a table and poured himself a steaming cup of black coffee before marching past the trio, staring daggers at Gale who looked up worriedly from his breakfast.

Curt’s eyes followed the man as he walked in, muttering under his breath, “Speak of the devil.”

"Good morning to you, too, Sparky," John called out with a small wave as he walked by, only to be met with deafening silence from the other pilot.

Hugh's harsh glare was burning a hole in the back of Gale’s skull and he thought any second now he’d come into his brain and it would be lights out.

“You’ve really pissed him off this time, Buck, and you didn’t even get his sister into bed,” John laughed heartily, taking a long swig from his whiskey and coffee, it was most likely more whiskey than coffee but Gale humored him.

“Will you give it a rest? I’m already getting it from Hugh without your added input,” Gale stabbed aggressively at his scrambled eggs, willing the eyes of the room to stop looking at him.

Curt snorted beside him, waving his fork around. “Well, I’m telling you boys, if I’d have had Hope in my arms and she’d bought condoms with her, let’s just say she wouldn’t have been going back home with them.”

That was the final straw.

Gale slammed his fist down on the table, ignoring the way Johnny jumped in his seat, spilling his coffee over the table, and the way several chunks of his scrambled egg disappeared onto the floor.

“You say anymore slander about my girl, Biddick and I swear…”

“Your girl, Buck?” John raised his right eyebrow, an amused smirk on his lips as his mustache twitched. “She’s your girl and you haven’t even written her yet?”

Sometimes Gale wished he could rip that stupid mustache off John’s face, but he kept his cool.

It would seem that Hugh had heard the whole commotion. His chair screeching back from the table, he stomped up between the tables once more, his glare never leaving Gale until the door slammed shut behind him.

Buck groaned, unsure if it was in relief or at the impending doom that he was likely to suffer if this debacle continued. Without a second thought, he excused himself from the table, ignoring the calls of protest from John and Curt, and hurried after Hugh.

“Hugh! Hugh, wait up. Please, I want to talk to you,” Gale jogged after the tall brunette whose face turned sour the instant he noticed him.

The door quickly closed behind him, and Curt looked at the major across from him with a guilty expression. “I was just joking, Bucky. I would never-”

“Ahh don’t worry about it,” John said as he sipped on his coffee. “He knows that. Like you said, Buck’s got it bad and this thing with Hugh has been eating at him since Saturday.”

Biddick nodded to himself, his eyes lingering on the door. “Do you think Hugh’ll let it go?”

“For Buck’s sake, I do…I think he will. Doesn’t mean I won’t still rag Buck about it, though.”

“Yeah,” Curt mumbled, staring down at his plate.

Neither man spoke for a few moments, each lost in their thoughts until Bucky wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up. “I’ve got a letter to write. See you later, Curt.”

“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” Biddick replied. “Bucky Egan writing a love letter. Looks like Buck isn’t the only one who’s got it bad.”

John tugged his white-fleece jacket back into place and chuckled at his friend. “Don’t go all soft on me.”

“I think it suits you, John. Really,” he urged, a soft smile on his lips. “You seem happier.”

Staring at him for a moment, Bucky didn’t quite know how to respond. He felt happier. He had something to look forward to other than getting drunk at the bar or the adrenaline rush he got when the sound of .50 cal brownings echoed through his fort. John placed his cap back on his head, and with a curt nod, turned toward the door.

His tie suddenly became too tight around his throat as he pushed through the doors into the cool English air, and he quickly loosened it, letting it hang limply as he took a deep breath. In that moment, John Egan had a profound realization.

Since he came over to England in May, he had been simply going through the motions, replaying the same days over and over: Wake up…Fly forts…Bomb targets…Get drunk…Show a woman a good time…then start the cycle again the next day. For someone with such a passionate personality, he lacked the feeling that he so deeply desired. Curt could vouch for this, being the one to knock some feeling back into him a few months back on the wing of Mugwump.

But since that day in July when the nurses landed on their small base in East Anglia, feeling had slowly been creeping back into his life. He first felt it when Ruth caught him staring, and was soon captivated by her dimpled smile and capable personality. The numbness that had become so familiar to him faded into the background when she was near, her laughter shaking free his heart a little more each time it left her lips.

He was alive with Ruth. More alive than he felt when ME-109s whizzed past him or when flack shook his fort. More alive than when he unbuttoned a woman’s dress and laid her down. More alive than the burning sensation that traveled down his throat when he downed another shot at the bar.

Over the past few weeks, the blonde nurse had somehow burrowed into his jaded exterior and broken down the walls he didn’t even know existed.

John’s mind reeled as he silently mounted his bike and rode to the base HQ. The ride passed in a blur, and before he knew it, he was sitting at his desk, staring down at the blank sheet of paper before him. He hadn’t had a problem writing her before, so why was this any different?

How was he supposed to convey such profound feelings in a letter?

He started simply, letting his mind imagine her there beside him.

“Dear Ruth.”

Thursday, August 12, 1943: Termini Imerese, Sicily, Italy

“You ready girls!” Frank called over his shoulder, glancing as Hope and Ruth took the stretcher from the medics below them and loaded the last wounded soldier onto the rack. Hope pulled out her flight manifest and checked off the final patient to board. The young boy reached out, grasping her hand.

“Nurse,” his voice cracking as he tried to grab her attention. He was so young, barely eighteen years old. His bright blue eyes, glossy and hazy, gazed up at her.

“Yes, My Love,” Hope crouched down, clasping the boy's hand in one of hers while her other brushed away his brunette locks from his face. She tried to stop her eyes from drifting down his body to where only stumps of his legs remained, the burnt flesh wrapped neatly in crisp bandages.

“You’re an angel,” he whispered and Hope smiled sweetly at him, squeezing his hand. “When I write home, I’m gonna tell my Momma ‘bout you.”

A single tear trickled down her cheek and she leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and watching until he drifted off to sleep. His delicate, young features were no longer etched with worry, and the hard lines across his forehead softened as the morphine began to take effect.

Hope turned, watching as Ruth comforted one of the other young men further down the plane who had managed to remove some of his bandages.

“Hey, don’t do that, you need those,” Ruth tutted quietly, helping the Private sit up a little so she could secure fresh, white bandages around his bloody arm. The poor boy grumbled under his breath as Ruth tucked in the end. “Now leave ‘em be, okay?”

The young boy nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his cot. They weren’t the most comfortable racks, just cool metal bars lining the hammock-like beds that swayed as the C-47 rocked through the sky.

Hope took her seat beside Ruth, who had finished trying to redress the soldier's wounds, smiling briefly at her friend, who wore the same exhausted expression she did.

“I can’t wait to get back to the Grove. I need a warm bath and my bed,” Ruth mumbled, stretching out her aching muscles that screamed against the tension in her body.

“Oh don’t say that, Rue. We’ve still got to drop these poor boys off at the hospital in Mateur.” Ruth just groaned in response.

The dance with the boys had been their last outing in a while. It was the last time Hope hadn’t felt completely exhausted. She’d been relaxed, able to let go, and safe in Gale’s arms.

This trip had been hard. The plane was at full capacity and when they arrived on the airfield at Termini Imerese, Sicily, they were instantly thrown into action. The girls disappeared into the makeshift hospitals that lined the airfield, the white tents flapping in the harsh wind that did little to cool the heat from the scorching midday sun.

Hope and Ruth conferred with the surgeons, assessing and stabilizing patients that were safe to fly, meaning that many of the young men with head injuries or who had suffered significant blood loss would be unable to fly due to the unpressurized aircraft cabins. Many of the men didn’t have emergency medical tags, so the girls had to make their own assessments for many of the patients.

The thrumming roar of the C-47’s engine erupting to life always brought a great sense of comfort to Hope, along with an impending sense of fear in unison. This job, while rejuvenating her youth through the exhilarating flights and the lives they saved, aged her with each passing moment spent in the air, because after every successful landing she was left with the feeling that although they had saved lives, they couldn’t save them all. This weighed heavily on both of the women.

Frank and his fellow pilot chatted hastily in the cockpit, their muffled voices cracking through over the radio. As soon as the plane leveled out Hope and Ruth stood, each taking a side of the plane and beginning the checkups on their patients, recording their temperature, pulse, and respiration as well as checking there was no strike through of blood from their dressings. The girls worked quickly, only conferring on their patients' conditions.

It always amazed Hope how quickly their work changed them, on the flight over Ruth had been once again telling her about the letter she’d received from John. Hope feared she could probably quote Ruth’s letter herself by now, but she never complained, pleased that Ruth was finally coming out of herself.

Hope had her own letter from Gale tucked into her top overall pocket, over her heart. His words burned into her flesh and she felt as though he was right there beside her all along.

Having dropped off the soldiers at the large US hospital in Mateur, Tunisia, the C-47 headed home. The mood was somber as the large metal bird rattled its way across Europe towards England.

Ruth’s eyes had closed about half an hour before, and Hope didn’t have the heart to wake her up. She looked so peaceful, the wrinkles that normally appeared when she smiled were smoothed away, and her blonde locks fell softly from where she had so lovingly pinned them that very morning.

Hope took Gale’s letter out of her pocket, smoothing out the creases that had poked around the edge of the page. Words of affirmation sprung out at her and a smile was instantly cemented to her lips as she relieved the last moments with him.

The flight home always seemed quicker, and soon ‘The Angel of Death’ was touching down on the runway. Hope helped a rather sleepy Ruth off the plane and waved goodnight to Frank, who chuckled in amusement at the blonde’s incoherent murmurs, some of them sounding an awful lot like the name of her beloved major.

“Goodnight Ladies.”

“Come on, Rue. Let’s get you home,” Hope wrapped her arm around her sleepy friend, leading the way to the Nissan huts they were billeted in.

Some of the other nurses were still stationed in Africa and so they currently had the hut to themselves. Hope lay Ruth down on the bed, smiling as she snuggled closer into the pillow.

So much for a warm bath…

Hope would rag her about it later, but she couldn’t deny that the stress of the day was getting to her too, but something restless kept her from falling into her own bed. Instead, Hope sat at the small desk in the corner, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. She pulled Gale’s crumpled letter from her pocket, smoothed it flat onto the desk, and began writing her reply.

The following day, the girls finally had a day off, and as much as they wanted to make the trip up to Thorpe Abbotts, the nurses were so exhausted that they barely got out of bed.

“What time is it?” Ruth groaned, turning onto her side to hide from the bright sun peeking through the curtains.

Getting no response, she cracked her eyes open, and a smile tugged at her lips at the sight before her. In the corner of the room, Hope’s cheek lay smushed against the desktop, her messy black hair splayed around her as she slept soundly. The corner of a paper could just barely be seen under her hair, and Ruth immediately knew what she’d fallen asleep doing.

Sighing softly, she pulled back her covers and padded over to Hope, wincing at the sting of her feet against the cold floors. “Hope,” Ruth whispered, rubbing the woman’s shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

She awoke slowly, allowing the blonde to sit her up off the desk. “Five more minutes,” Hope mumbled.

Ruth chuckled, the sound echoing through the silent hut. Luckily, Hope’s bed was directly beside the desk, so the smaller woman didn’t have to maneuver her around too much to get her onto the mattress.

Gently laying her extra blanket over her best friend, Ruth smiled down at her. “There you go. Snug as a bug.”

She then walked over to her bed and snuggled under the covers again, but not before closing their blackout curtains, causing darkness to envelop the room once again. The warmth drew her back into her peaceful slumber, her eyes fluttering closed as her mind repeated Johnny’s latest letter:

Sunday, August 8th, 1943

Dear Ruth, I can’t wait to see you again. I know I said that in my last letter, but I’ve recently discovered that absence actually does make the heart grow fonder. I find myself waiting in anticipation for your letters the moment I send off my own, and I long to see you…to have you here next to me. Hopefully, your missions will ease soon and you’ll finally get a break, too. I understand how tiring it can be to fly day after day, and that’s without even having to take care of patients. Please take care of yourself, alright? As much as I would love to see you, please rest if you get the chance. Don’t worry about me. We’ll see each other soon enough. Today Buck finally wrote Hope back. I tried to tell him how stupid it was to wait, but he was adamant about getting Hugh’s approval. He’s a bigger man than I am, Ruth. Regardless of this, we can never let him live the incident down…ever. In response to your threat to withhold your affection from me, I say bring it on. Like I said before, you can’t argue with facts. The Yankees are the better team, and I’m going to convince you of that, so I cannot agree to disagree. I’m too stubborn to let you win, and if I’m being honest, I don’t know if you’ll be able to resist my charming personality…or the mustache. I know you love the mustache, Ruth. If you decide to follow through on your threat, I’ll shave it off. Just for you. Don’t stand between a man and kisses from his girl. It doesn’t end well for anyone. But it’s like you said, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right? Please be safe, Ruthie, and know I am thinking of you. Yours, John Egan

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hope! Ruth! You alive in there?” a voice hollered through the hut’s door, rousing Ruth for the second time that morning. She opened her mouth to reply, but Hope beat her to it.

“Go away, Frank!” she groaned, covering her ears with her pillow.

“It’s almost noon,” the man chuckled. “I know you’re tired but you both need to get up. We’ve got stuff to do.”

Sitting up abruptly, Ruth grabbed her watch off her small side table, her eyes widening when she read 11:43 am. She looked over to Hope who was also staring at her watch in utter disbelief.

“I haven’t slept in this much since I was a teenager,” Hope muttered under her breath before turning to Ruth, almost breaking into a fit of laughter at the blonde’s wonky curls from the day before. “We look terrible.”

Frank pounded his fist against the door, yelling, “Get up!”

“WE ARE!!” They both hollered back, unable to keep the frustration from lacing their voices.

Throwing off her covers, Hope stood to her feet and marched over to the door, swinging it open. Ruth clamored quickly out of bed to follow her, stopping right behind her shoulder as they glared at Frank. His eyes scanned the women before him, and a grimace appeared on his face at their ragged appearances.

“Okay,” he started, raising his hands in surrender. “Go back to sleep. You look like shit, and I’d rather do things on the plane by myself than deal with your grumpy attitudes.”

They narrowed their eyes at him. “Nope. We’re awake now,” Hope retorted, smiling sweetly at him.

Sighing, Frank stepped back from the door with a barely concealed smirk. “Meet me at the hardstand.”

As Hope shut the door, Ruth flopped back on her bed, her eyes following Hope’s figure walking across the room to the desk in the corner. “How’s Gale?” she asked, propping her head up with her hand.

Hope began to neatly fold up the letter, smiling softly as she talked over her shoulder. “He’s good. Said he didn’t write because of Hugh causing problems, but he’s got his blessing now.” She turned toward Ruth with dusty pink cheeks, giggling to herself. “He even signed his last letter with ‘your Gale.’”

“Hope!” Ruth squealed, sitting up and covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve someone like Gale, and I’m sure Hugh sees how much he adores you.”

Hope looked down at the letter in her hands, her heart swelling at the thought of the man. “He’s amazing,” she whispered as her eyes traced over his name on the paper. After a few moments, she shook her head, seemingly clearing her thoughts, and raised an eyebrow at Ruth. “How’s John?”

It was now Ruth’s turn to blush, the tips of her ears heating up at the mention of the major. “Great…amazing…wonderful. I feel like I’ve known him so much longer than a few weeks, Hope. You know how I can get sometimes, but when I’m with him, I don’t feel nearly as anxious. And when he kissed me…I wished it could’ve lasted forever. I can’t wait to see him again.”

Sighing softly, Hope plopped down onto her bed. “Look at us, Rue. We’re like a bunch of lovesick teenagers.”

“Yeah, we are,” Ruth giggled, her mind replaying her and John’s laughter, soft touches, and tender looks from the dance. The way he held her face so delicately, how his lips-

“Come on,” Hope called, her mattress squeaking as she got up, breaking Ruth from her thoughts. “Let’s get ready so we can go annoy Frank.”

Tag List: @xxluckystrike @precious-little-scoundrel @bcofl0ve @violetdaze25 @docroesmorphine @kmc1989 @gfofsadie @artlover8992 @karashaw99 @dustyjumpwjngs @camicanos-blog @storysimp @b00ks1ut @sunny747 @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok @yoongiscxr @blueberry-ovaries @sidneysidney123

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list! <3

102 notes · View notes

sadist1224 · 8 months ago

Text

A FREE IDEA FOR FAN FICTION

Sorry for the mistakes, English through translator.

In general, this post is for readers too, but mostly for the authors.

I'm too lazy to write a whole fanfiction, but I'm not too lazy to illustrate it, in general…

ROYAL AU!

I NEED A ROYAL AU!

I have already read enough medieval stories, and I have not yet seen such a plot, so I will summarize it briefly.

The main character is the reader /"Y|N"/ you are the indirect heir to the royal throne. That is, you seem to belong to the royal blood, but you are not close to the board at all. Your father is the king's cousin, so you don't have much chance to rule, and you don't need to. You and your family have been slandered in every way possible to keep your parents away from the capital and the palace. Of course, as a child you were in the palace, at balls and so on, but that was a long time ago.

You and your father lived on the outskirts, in a small estate with an adjacent village. You weren't poor, but you weren't rich either. You know what it's like to live in the common people, what hunger and disease are. You don't need the throne because you have a deep resentment and dislike for the crown, which is why your family suffered.

You had almost no childhood. Your father had his own crazy mission - to teach you everything he knows himself. Politics, economics, even military affairs and fencing. Sometimes it came to paranoia. One of his lessons turned out to be a disaster for you and now your back is decorated with a long torn scar (you can make up a story).

And one day, your father is called back to the capital. He doesn't tell you the reasons, but he's coming back after a month. Really sick. Over the next week, you had the feeling that your father had been poisoned. He's dying in your arms. Weak, exhausted, not like himself.

And a year later, 4 horsemen with the coat of arms of one of the most powerful clans in the kingdom come to your estate. 141, headed by the family of John Price. Along with him come the "dead knight" Simon "Ghost" Riley - his right-hand man and chief adviser, John "Soap" McTavish and Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (you can also add Roach and others here).

Price announces to you that practically the entire royal dynasty was killed in a coup and now you are the first in line to the throne. At first, you give up the crown and send them back, BUT then you agree.

1) Price uses blackmail (how exactly and what kind of blackmail is at your discretion)

2) You need to find out what happened to your father (the main reason you agree.)

3) You really don't have a choice (why?yes, the dick knows, we need to come up with)

FURTHER SPOILERS!

The irony is that you were chosen for a reason. The former king and his family were frankly terrible rulers, and in fact it was 141 who staged the coup (but the reader will learn about this as the story progresses)

Price's plan was to put someone on the throne, in the role of a puppet. In that case, he would have the power. And Price is not a bad person, he wants only the best for your country, but he cannot entrust its development to anyone.

That's why he chose you, but you ruin his plans almost immediately.

You're really taking control of the country into your own hands. You don't let yourself be controlled, you are constantly learning and developing. You're really smart! It is important! More importantly, you can't trust anyone from the royal court. After all, in addition to 141, there is another clan - CorTak (who is in charge of it, who is in it and what they do is up to you. THE ONLY THING is to add Koenig, I love him, and women, because without them there are only men in the palace).

Whether CorTak will be involved in the coup is also up to you to decide.

The main conflict can be tied to foreign policy. For example, Shepard is the ruler of a neighboring country, and his representative in your kingdom is Graves.

Maybe Shepard wants to take over your lands? Was he involved in your father's murder? ???

You can also add Laswell to your side, as an ambassador on your side.

A FEW HEADCOUNTS OF CHARACTERS:

JOHN PRICE

Cunning, smart, wise. Do not think that behind his "calmness" there is really "calmness"He has a good command of his face. A great political player, an excellent leader with his dark secrets and injuries.

Military, fighter, fencing at the highest level. Kapets is so strong. He can be mean. I'm used to achieving my goals. He usually avoids harsh immoral things, but when things "smell fried", he will do anything to protect his clan.

Did he have a wife? Maybe, but he's got a lot of mistresses. Rather, he is single, or frankly does not love the woman he married.

Really RICH. He's a lord or whatever. He has lands and he is one of the king's confidants, his adviser, even if the king is dead, John still holds this position.

She can blackmail the reader, and in principle, at first treats her with distrust and prejudice. After some time, he begins to deliberately annoy her, attract attention to himself and behave quite boldly (for example, enter her personal space). Sexual tension is 100%. But he's still a gentleman.

SIMON RILEY

I think he probably has an estate with a village, but most likely it is empty, or he is being looked after by several servants. He hardly ever shows up there.

Otherwise, it is a canonical rough, hard, cold Ghost, with its own backstory. He serves Price faithfully.

Sleeping with Johnny? I don't mind, we're all a bit perverted here.

JOHN MCTAVISH

Ahhh, typical Johnny. A funny guy, a fucker, shamelessly flirting.

He can run after skirts. He'll end up with Simon anyway. \(-_-)/

He has a BIG family. Right now, yes. I think he's from a small town in Scotland. Maybe Price found him?

KYLE GARRICK

The same story as with Sope.

I also have a family, but I don't think it's rich.

In general, sexual relations between 141 are welcome. Let's be honest, "141 x reader" is much more interesting when chemistry flows between all its members.

Speaking of love lines: 141 x reader + KorTac x reader.

You can put Vaqueros and Graves in here. I love everything, I like everything.

DESCRIPTION OF THE READER

I repeat that the reader is smart! This is really important! The reader is not naive, he does not have pink glasses.

Stubborn, arrogant, strong in spirit and character. responsible and independent.

He also manages his face well, but not at the same level as Price.

About 22-24 years old.

The reader has a lot of skills, but he will have to learn a lot more to run the country.

He doesn't like luxury. More for practicality than beauty.

She knows etiquette, can play the piano and violin, and she loves music, but she rarely gets to do it.

He doesn't like dancing. She's cold enough for balls and social evenings, but she can't do anything about it.

He reads solely because of the information. Uses any free minute for any activity.

He doesn't know what rest is. The guys have to forcibly drag her out for walks. She won't say, but she's grateful to them.Sincerely loves to laugh.

She can be sarcastic. I like to put people (especially those who deserve it) in an awkward position. It amuses her.

SOME SCENES THAT TAKE PLACE.

Damn, I can see how Price is sending Sop and Gas to convey some information to the reader, which is not very important, but he requires transmission right now. Imagine the guys' faces when they find you naked in the bathroom, sitting with your back to them, with a book in your hands. And in fact, you are not embarrassed by their presence, but begin to nightmare them, amused by their reaction. Or maybe Price won't send anyone, but will go looking for you himself. Or will it be a Ghost?

In general, I need such a story on AO3 or here, it doesn't matter. I just hope someone gets inspired by it and writes it. And also. Leave a link in the comments to the fanfiction, if any.

#call of duty #141 x reader #au #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #john price #könig #ghost x reader #ghoap #price x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #undertale #queen au

48 notes · View notes

gaysindistress · 1 year ago

Text

Cocaine Jesus - Part 3 of Fine Line

Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: you know the drill; angst, mentions of abuse, vague descriptions of abuse, the feels, Peggy Carter andddd John Walker slander

Word count

Master list

Fine Line & Dial Drunk

Word count: 4.3k

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom @zaraomarrogers @deafeningvoidcloud

a/n: you guys - "I need you to promise me that you'll give Honey and Steve a happy ending.

me -"I promiseeeeed other people that I'd write all the angst possible and I gave 'em my word sooooooo"

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

The letter read the most ridiculous thing that she has ever seen. A poor excuse, a failed lie, a fucked up story, a concoction of rumors mashed together to make something out of nothing. He left it on her bed without a second word to her, a word to her parents, and walked straight out of her life. He left the letter detailing every single lie he could’ve thought of for the last 48 hours on her bed, on her pillow to be specific like some fucked up love story you read about in high school. She always joked that they might be Romeo and Juliet but this?

This?

His actions were far beyond anything that Shakespeare might’ve thought of.

“I used you to cheat on Peggy but we’re getting married so this has to end. Goodbye, Steve.”

One single sentence to end a relationship that they had talked about that could last for years. One single sentence that shattered everything that she thought to be true and concrete in her life.

One sentence to take everything she’s been looking forward to drowned in it in her own tears.

She threw the letter into the fire, with tears streaming down her face, and a vengeance as she stared at the flames. Ashes of the relationship flooded around her, but a shard of light called her attention. On her nightstand is the picture of them from that first night; a polaroid of two bright and smiling faces, so hopeful that life will be OK. You already know the story behind the picture, but in the wake of the letter, she contemplated destroying that picture and any memory of Steve she could find. A part of her wouldn’t let her burn it so instead she slipped it into her nightstand and crawled into a ball on the floor to cry.

That night she slipped into adulthood and decided never again would she allow herself to be fooled by men like Steve Rogers.

“Hey doll, where would you like me to start?” Bucky gently calls over to her as she stares around the room around her her entire life from birth to know I haven’t packed up into boxes and is laying like a field of memories around them.

“I don’t know. I guess just pick up one and start putting them in the truck?”

But he gives her a no and does what she says; picking one box up and hauling it out to the truck. Her mom had helped her pack, shuffling through all the items that she felt like her dear daughter no longer needed. Her mother, Lauren, knew not to touch anything in the nightstand. She had seen the polaroid some nights after Steve’s week departure and figured that her daughter had hidden in the picture in the nightstand. She had liked Steve and talked to her husband many nights about how she had hoped that maybe one day he would be the one to harness that wild spirit within her daughter. Having known the Rogers since practically birth herself, it was a shock that Sarah had let something like this happen. Lauren had tried to get her husband to say something to Mr. Rogers however, nothing came of the conversations, but frustration and misplaced anger. She didn’t think that she nor her husband would ever be able to give the Rogers the time of day after this. It was a miracle to even get Bucky in the house given their new sentiment towards the Rogers.

Bucky chose to keep his words to himself and only offered her sad smiles or gentle hugs. He was so unbelievably pissed at Steve when he found out when it happened because they had known since his return that he would be forced to marry Peggy. On that Fourth of July night, he urged Steve to let go of this honey, to give her a chance but he refused. He was selfish like that sometimes, taking and taking from everyone around him, because it made him feel better. It caused many fights between the two childhood friends seeing as Bucky had taken a liking to her too. It was fun for him; the girls, the wine, and the weed. Nothing that Bucky could say would make him stop because he has always got what he wanted and Bucky was forever indentured to him so his hands were tied. His own father was in the same position as him, but to the older Mr. Rogers. So he watched on the sidelines as Steve ruined yet another young girl's life with his charm.

When Bucky had walked back into the room, he sensed a shift in the air as she kneeled in front of her nightstand, frozen in time she held that stupid portrait in her hands and gawked at it as if she saw a ghost. Every ounce of life and color drained from her face as she held this momento of pain in her hand. It burned him to not just rip it from her hands and destroy it for her. He wanted to give her everything that she had been promised and so much more but he knew that if he did that he would risk the wrath of Steve. He knew that if he tried to give her any ounce of comfort, Steve would know and make his life a living hell. He already had enough control over Bucky’s life and he didn’t want to give him another reason to be even more controlling.

Instead of doing what his heart screamed at him to do he gently placed his hand on her shoulder so she would know that he was there for her if she needed. She brought it as if burned by his touch and quickly dropped off, turning slightly to look at him. He saw the tears in her eyes, and he gathered her into his arms for a death grip hug. One hand snuck into her hair, and held her head against his chest, as the other gripped her tightly, as if to provide her with all the physical comfort that she could ever need as her body shook from the sobs, a wet spot forms on his shirt and his own throat tightened at the feeling resolves quickly turned from that of a heart broken woman to those gut, wrenching gasps of a person experiencing true agony. The sound stopped leaving her mouth, and her body heaved in efforts to keep up with the demand for air. Her knees buckled and they dropped to the floor together in a heap of tears and bones.

“I got you, doll. I won’t let you go. I promise.”

His words seemed to make her cries worse, but her arms wrapped around him and her hands Claude into the back of his shirt. She was gripping him as tight as he gripped her, the strength of their shared misery, keeping them together.

“I got you. It’s okay. Let it out.”

“After this, we can’t see each other.”

Once again, the boxes of her life scattered around them as they ate Chinese food and settled into her small apartment. 480 square feet of nothing but everything that she could possibly think of. She drops the chopsticks, flinging rice and vegetables everywhere when she hears the words come out of his mouth.

“I don’t… what?”

I just don’t think that it’s a good idea for us to hang out because…”

“ I swear to god if you tell me that Steve had anything to do with this I will actually kill him.”

He gives a sad laugh and looks down at his feet, “ doll. I don’t know what to tell ya.”

“You can start by answering my question. Did Steve have anything to do with us?”

He refuses to answer her question and won’t meet her eyeline. That’s all the answer she needs though. Steve had yet again ruined another chance for her to be happy and this time he wasn’t even there to do it.

She slummed against the couch and almost dropped the food container on the floor with disbelief. She stares ahead and says nothing. She can’t say anything. Nothing she could possibly think of would make this moment feel any better than it does.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky mumbles as he drops a light kiss onto her forehead and walks out of her life.

Once again, that Polaroid staring back at her as it peeks out of the top of the box it’s in. All she can see is the fireworks, but she knows what the picture is. She knows the curse that inevitably brings, but she can’t throw it away.

She won’t.

“You know, my apartment is bigger and you wouldn’t have to get rid of anything,” the blonde jokes as he lugs another donation bag out of her room.

Y/N shakes her head while she sorts more of her things, deciding what can go to D.C. with her and what stays behind with the rest of her past.

“But you’re here and I’m going to be 4 hours away. How is that supposed to work?” she calls after him.

“I wasn’t talking about my old place.”

She cocks her head but continues to focus on the task at hand, “Yeah your old place would be like a 5 hour drive on a good day.”

“Look at me, gorgeous.”

When she turns to look at him, he’s leaning against the door frame with a set of keys in his hand and a smile wide across his face. She gives him an even more confused look. He shakes them before tossing them to her. Turning over the keys in her hand, she spots a key chain that reads “I heart D.C.”

“I don’t…” she pauses for a moment, “Oh my god you got the job?!”

“I sure did. I start in a week which means…” he trails off and his smile grows even bigger. She jumps up and hugs him so tightly that he stumbles back.

“That’s so exciting, John! I’m so proud of you,” she all but exclaims holding him against her and the excitement vibrates off of her.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” he whispers as he takes her chin in his hand and tilts so their lips meet, “But that’s not even the best part. I had your landlord put us on the same lease and get us a bigger place.”

She stills and pulls away, “You did what?”

“Don’t be like that. Be happy that we’re both moving up in our careers and we’re moving to a new city. You even said it yourself; if I moved with you, we’d move in together.”

Nervously chuckling, she nods her head, “Oh I just wasn’t expecting it so soon, I guess.”

“What? You have a secret boyfriend or something?” tension fills his voice at her hesitation.

“No, no! It’s just a lot of info at once, that’s all,” she tries to reason and it seems to calm what storm was brewing.

John lets out a deep laugh and kisses her once more before letting her go.

“Good because I saw this,” he says, pulling out that god forsaken polaroid from his back pocket, “And got a little worried.”

Her smile freezes once more and she scrambles to come up with something, “Oh that’s an old family friend that’s all.”

“You look awful… close.”

“Just friends… well not even that anymore,” she tells John as she returns back to her cleaning, “You can just put it in a box.”

John hums but it’s filled with dismay as he debates ripping it to see her reaction. He’s not stupid, he could tell that whoever the man in the picture was, he meant something to Y/N and it was beyond just old friends. He takes a picture of it to send to a cop friend of his and slips it back into his pocket. He’s going to figure out who this man was and erase him from Y/N’s life.

Five days later John gets his answer.

Steve Grant Rogers, born July 4 19xx to Sarah and Joseph Rogers in Brooklyn, NY. Married to Margaret Carter Rogers. No known criminal record or alises. Father has a lengthy record and is suspected to be the current leader of the Rogers crime family. Steve is expected to be take over when Joseph dies.

John’s jaw clenches when he reads the emails and closes his computer. Anger licks up his spine at the thought of his sweet Y/N being at all connected to this criminal let alone as close as she appeared to be. Almost immediately his anger is drowned out when she walks through the door of their new apartment, arms full of groceries.

“Here, gorgeous, let me get that for you.”

Time flies by when you’re having fun or at least that’s what they tell everyone. Y/N hadn’t thought about that Polaroid since John brought it up. She assumed that he did as he was told, and just slipped into another box. She didn’t even question it when she hadn’t found it when they were unpacking. Time really did seem to heal her wounds and Steve had finally left her mind. Nearly 5 years after he’d left her heartbroken and angry, she finally was able to forget the hold he had on her. Even though she’d briefly tried to start something with Bucky, John Walker had been the one to show her what love meant… or at least what his version was.

Her new friends in D.C. had warned her about the red flags they’d seen but Y/N dismissed them. She felt she knew him better after all they’d been together for three years and were engaged. She always brushed it off as them being unhappy in their own relationship or John just had a bad day or he wasn’t always like this. It had gotten to the point where her own mother Lauren started to point out the concerning things she saw; however, it wasn’t until her three year anniversary dinner that it all came to a head.

John had suggested they go back to New York for a little getaway considering how stressful their jobs and wedding planning were. He’d made reservations at one of the finest restaurants on the Upper East Side along with staying in one of his friend’s condos. Everything had been perfect; champagne, rose petals, quiet instrumental music, and two people fighting in the bedroom.

“I can’t believe you! You’re such a fucking asshole!” She shouted at him from the bedroom as he continued to get ready.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he calmly responded, fixing his tie.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, John.”

“No I don’t.”

“You had Joaquin look into Steve.”

“I did so what,” he leveled a very stern gaze towards her through the bathroom mirror.

“And you didn’t tell me for 2 years.”

“So what?” He said even lower than before but finally turned to look at Y/N, “why does it matter if I looked into your little boyfriend?”

“What are you talking about?” She huffed, back straightening as chills began to run down her spine.

“I know about you and Steve. You didn’t want me to know so YOU lied to me about it so what was I supposed to do? Ignore it? I wouldn’t be a very good fiancé, husband even if I ignored my gut when it comes to you.”

“You’re seriously trying to say that you were concerned about me? I would’ve told you anything you wanted to know, you didn’t have to have someone get a whole ass police background check,” she tried to reason and to defuse the situation. She could sense the anger and aggression boiling under John’s skin no matter how calm and collected he seemed in the moment.

He ignored her, instead fixing the cuffs of his jacket and shirt. Waiting and making her think he was ignoring her was his favorite tactic to get under her skin.

“I didn’t lie to you, I would never do that,” she tried again whilst taking small steps towards him.

“I care so much about you, gorgeous,” he started, closing the gap before engulfing her in a bone crushing hug, “Steve is a dangerous man, so much more dangerous than you could ever imagine.”

She gasped at the pressure he was putting on her, “John you’re hurting me.”

His grip loosened for a moment before he spun her around so she could look in the mirror. One of his hands looped around her shoulders and the other found its place around her neck. Her own hands flew to his wrist and she began to claw at his wrist as he dropped his head so he could speak directly into her ear.

“I am the only person who can protect you from him. Me,” he punctuated the words with a tightening grip, “I’m disappointed that you didn’t tell me about him, gorgeous. I can’t have a lying wife and you know that; I need someone who is completely loyal to me. Do you think you can do that?”

Tears fell down her face, ruining the makeup she’s just finished putting on as she rapidly nodded her head. Satisfied he dropped her and let her fall forward to catch herself on the bathroom door frame.

“Clean up, we’re leaving in 15 minutes,” he whispered into her ear before leaving the room. Once she knew she was alone, she scrambled to grab her phone and dialed a number she’d hoped to never dial again.

“Doll?” The voice answered with confusion.

She cried even harder when Bucky picked up and she choked on her words, “I need your help please. I’ll pay you anything, everything. Please just… please.”

“Doll what is it? Where are you?”

“I’ll send you the address but you have to come quickly. Hide in the alley and I’ll figure out how to get there.”

“Of course, do you want me to call HIM?”

“No,” she barely held back the next wave of sobs at the thought and hung up.

She took a few deep breaths, calming her nervous system before standing to fix her makeup. Within minutes, she’s managed to make herself look presentable to John’s standards. However she’d exchanged her heels for flats in hopes that if she did have to make a run for it, she wouldn’t break her ankle.

Her phone pinged beside her, alerting her that Bucky would be at the restaurant when they got there and was in the back alley like she’d asked.

“I’ll be right back. Can you order me the salmon if I’m back when they take our order?” she sweetly smiled at John as she got up.

He gave her that sick PR smile he used on his sponsors and went back to reading the menu.

Y/N’s body shook as she got closer and closer to the bathroom. On her way she stopped their waitress, a younger red headed woman that John had been relentlessly rude to. The woman smiled and stopped her by gently grabbing her arm to pull her closer.

“Go through the kitchen and out the back door. He’s waiting for you,” she whispered to Y/N. Fear ran through her body again as she stared wildly at her.

“Go. Bucky hates waiting around,” she smirked before releasing her arm and guiding her into the kitchen. The red head waved a hand at Y/N as if to shoo away a child and pointed to a set of doors that she assumed led outside.

She mouthed thank you and ran for the doors, pushing them open with all her might. Before her was a blacked out SUV and a smiling Bucky in the backseat. He had opened the door when she came bursting out.

“Get in Doll.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She climbed in and sunk into the leather as the car pulled away.

“Where to?” He asked after they’d gotten away from the restaurant.

“Somewhere safe.”

Bucky nodded as he tapped the driver on the shoulder and said something to him. She didn’t register what address he gave him because fatigue took over her body and she drifted off into the abyss of sleep.

10 years.

10 years since she’d been home, seen family, spoken to her friends.

10 years since she’d left John in that restaurant and gotten into the car with Bucky.

It had been 10 years since she’d gained her freedom but at the cost of a normal life.

During that time, Bucky and Natasha, the waitress from that night, had hidden her and kept her in some sort of witness protection program. Bucky knew of John’s reputation and knew that the only way to guarantee Y/N’a safety was for her to disappear. He’s made her a ghost, changing everything about her so that no one could find her aside from him and Natasha. Of course going into hiding meant she had literally no other connections but the two of them.

Nat had offered her a job working alongside her as an executive assistant to Bucky and another man named Sam Wilson. Bucky had assured her that he didn’t work for Steve anymore and she wouldn’t see him. His promise did little to quell her fears but she trusted him nonetheless.

It became clear pretty quickly after she went into hiding that John had no idea where she went but he kept looking. Her family had been told about the situation but everyone else was kept in the dark, which made John even more furious. His efforts to find her had been in vain and roughly around the 4th year of no results he stopped looking. Regardless she remained hidden because at this point, she’d lived most of her adult life this way. Y/N didn't really know anything outside of the world that she’s created but that’s not to say she was naive. Of course working as the assistant to a mob boss, she wasn’t oblivious to the real world. In fact she probably understood it better than most, she simply preferred her world.

It had been nearly 15 years by now since she’d seen Steve. Occasionally she’d see his name on paperwork from Bucky’s time working under him. Other than that, there had been nothing. Peggy, on the other hand, she’d seen far too often between events, galas, and even in Bucky’s office. Y/N doubted that the woman remembered her, let alone knew who she was so she didn’t let it phase her when she saw her. Natasha was quick to fill her in on all of the gossip if she wanted but it was usually the same; Peggy cheated with the same two men, Steve found out and would threaten divorce but it never came to fruition because she would claim she was pregnant. Spoiler alert she never was but if she made a big enough deal about it, Steve would have to reconcile with her to save his and his family’s reputation.

However this round of accusations and threats seemed to stick; Steve had actually filed for divorce and demanded a paternity test if she was, in fact, pregnant. Of course she wasn't, hence why they were fighting in the lobby of Bucky’s office. Natasha chuckles under her breath at their petty words and glances over to Y/N.

“You ready?” She asks as she gathers her own things.

“Can we even get out? It sounds like they’re literally at the door.”

Before Natasha can answer, Bucky walks in followed by the arguing couple. They’re shouting so many things at each other that no one can keep track of what they’re actually arguing about.

“Oh fucking believe me. I can’t wait for this divorce to be over. Maybe I’ll stop getting so many fucking STDs,” Steve shouts as he slammed the door behind himself.

Peggy scoffs as she crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head.

“Yeah that’s right. Don’t say anything because you know I’m right,” he scoffs back, dropping himself onto the couch Nat and Bucky had christened several times.

Y/N winces at his loud voice and turns around so that her back is to them. She grabs whatever paperwork she can and shoves it into her bag.

Nat clears her throat and whispers, “Let’s go.”

She loops her arm in Y/N’s and bids everyone a goodbye. Dropping a kiss on Bucky’s cheek, she tries her hardest to sneak the other woman out before Steve can see her. As soon as they’re out the door, they hear exactly what they’re afraid of.

“I swear to god, Buck, if that was Y/N, I will execute you right here, right now.”

Nat stiffens for a moment but quickens her pace and practically drags Y/N along with her to get them out as soon as possible. Steve’s booming voice chases after them and they make eye contact as the two women climb into the elevator. Before the doors close, Y/N can see the absolute heartbreak and pain that’s written across his face.

She doesn’t care though.

He’d done the exact same to her.

She’d gotten a few weeks of privacy before the oaf of a man came knocking at her door. The day had been rainy like the week prior and she kept to herself inside. Y/N had always loved the rain no matter where she was at because it reminded her that the earth could renew itself after a storm. However her peace is shattered when she hears the familiar sound of a luxury car pulling up in front of her house. Grabbing the gun Bucky stashed for her, she goes to peek out of the window to see her worst nightmare walking up.

Albeit it’s Steve and not John, she still tucked the gun back into its place before answering the door.

One knock.

Two knocks.

Three knocks.

She opens it and her breath hitches in her chest at the sight.

“What are you doing here?”

The first words that came to her mind after 15 years of nothing at all.

#mafia steve rogers #mob au #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!steve x reader #mob steve rogers #mob Steve rogers x reader #mafia! steve rogers imagine #mafia steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #fine line steve rogers

149 notes · View notes

ierotits · 3 months ago

Note

Tell us more about why you want to beat up Charles Dickens please?

ABSOLUTELY

it all boils down to the Franklin Expedition, and the way he treated Inuit testimony.

long story short if you are unaware: 1845 2 ships HMS Terror and HMS Erebus went into the arctic to search for the northwest passage, among other things, commanded by Sir John Franklin. both ships promptly disappeared, never to be seen by white people again. many expeditions were sent to search for them, never with any luck. the ships really had just disappeared.

UNTIL

in 1854 a man named John Rae was leading one of these overland expeditions to try find the (by now long dead) Franklin Expedition. along the way he met with and spoke with groups of Inuit living and hunting in the area. they told him of a group of white men they had seen a few years back, traveling in a group of about 45. they spoke of the men starving to death, slowly dying off. they also (most importantly) they spoke of a camp site where they had later found the bodies of about 30 men the next spring, with evidence they had cannibalized each other, bones with cut marks, in cooking pots, etc.

John Rae correctly took this as testimony that the members of the Franklin Expedition had all starved to death, and the last living men had resorted to eating each other, a very normal solution in those sorts of situations. he returned to England and shared this news with the admiralty, who tried to keep the information secret but it ended up in the press. this, of course, caused a huge scandal. the men had been lauded as heroes in the press, so the idea that they had resorted to eating each other really put a dampener on the idea.

there was a lot of upcry about it, not least from Lady Jane Franklin, Sir John Franklin's wife who had been insistent that they could still be alive and be saved. she accused John Rae and the Inuit who had shared the testimony of lying.

Lady Jane had a very significant friend's ear at this time. our darling Charles Dickens. he then wrote a section in his popular magazine decrying John Rae's testimony, saying it was all slander made up by the "wild savages" and John Rae was naive to believe it at all. Dickens said that Englishmen were too civilized and would never resort to cannibalism, and only the lowest most savage races of people cold ever consider it.

Charles Dickens, all in all, was one of the main factors in 1. John Rae being ridiculed and not getting any credit for his discoveries until after his death and 2. encouraging the public to think of native people's as savages, not believing any of their other valuable testimony, and paving the way for other ridiculous theories such as "actually the Inuit people killed them all and ate them, then blamed it on our wonderful morally pure white sailors".

the information provided to Rae by the Inuit has been proven time and time again since then, and there is no denying that the last of the expedition resorted to eating each other. the Inuit testimony has typically been relatively reliable with some inconsistency as time went on, and it was pure racism that motivated Charles Dickens in his defense of the men of the expedition.

if you're interested in any of this aside from my brain spew from memory, for further reading on the Inuit testimony and a full analysis of every piece of testimony I recommend "Unraveling the Franklin Mystery: Inuit Testimony" by David C Woodman. for more info on John Rae's expeditions and discoveries (and how much Lady Jane Franklin sucked so so bad) I recommend "After the Lost Franklin Expedition: Lady Jane Franklin and John Rae" by Peter Baxter.

and if you've got other recommendations or extra reasons to hate Charles Dickens (other than his books just sucking but that might be personal opinion) please let me know!!! most of my reading is just based on whats available at the library lmao.

#this is all just from memory so hmu if theres anything you reckon is off here!#ask

17 notes · View notes

awideplace · 10 months ago

Text

C.S. Lewis

Thinking about this quote which has always been one I've liked and a stark reminder of accountability of behavior whilst being a Christian and others knowing one is a professing Christian. However, I know also that, "there is no one good, no not one" (Psalm 53:1) and we are all, well, "bad"–the difference is a truly born again Christian is saved by the grace of Jesus Christ and we seek to live a fruitful life by that very same grace that saved us. Yes, we are held to a higher standard in that way; it's not just what we have been saved to (being His!) but what we have been saved from (sin + death). And many verses come to mind, cumulating in a portion of Ezekiel I read this morning in my reading through the Bible time which supports this:

but keep a good conscience so that in the thing in which you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame. For it is better, if God should will it so, that you suffer for doing what is right rather than for doing what is wrong. (1 Peter 3:16-17)

as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so also faith apart from works is dead. (James 2:26) by this we know that we have come to know Him, if we keep His commandments. The one who says, “I have come to know Him,” and does not keep His commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him; but whoever keeps His word, in him the love of God has truly been perfected. By this we know that we are in Him: the one who says he abides in Him ought himself to walk in the same manner as He walked. (1 John 2:3-6) How foolish! Can’t you see that faith without good deeds is useless? (James 2:20) He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. (John 15:2)

"But if the wicked man turns from all his sins which he has committed and observes all My statutes and practices justice and righteousness, he shall surely live; he shall not die. All his transgressions which he has committed will not be remembered against him; because of his righteousness which he has practiced, he will live. Do I have any pleasure in the death of the wicked,” declares the Lord GOD, “rather than that he should turn from his ways and live? But when a righteous man turns away from his righteousness, commits iniquity, and does according to all the abominations that a wicked man does, will he live? All his righteous deeds which he has done will not be remembered for his treachery which he has committed and his sin which he has committed; for them he will die. Yet you say, ‘The way of the Lord is not right.’ Hear now, O house of Israel! Is My way not right? Is it not your ways that are not right When a righteous man turns away from his righteousness, commits iniquity, and dies because of it, for his iniquity which he has committed he will die. Again, when a wicked man turns away from his wickedness which he has committed and practices justice and righteousness, he will save his life. Because he considered and turned away from all his transgressions which he had committed, he shall surely live; he shall not die. But the house of Israel says, ‘The way of the Lord is not right.’ Are My ways not right, O house of Israel? Is it not your ways that are not right? Therefore I will judge you, O house of Israel, each according to his conduct,” declares the Lord GOD. “Repent and turn away from all your transgressions, so that iniquity may not become a stumbling block to you. Cast away from you all your transgressions which you have committed, and make yourselves a new heart and a new spirit! For why will you die, O house of Israel? For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone who dies,” declares the Lord GOD. “Therefore, repent and live.” (Ezekiel 17:21-32)

36 notes · View notes

jungle-angel · 1 year ago

Text

From A Father To His Son (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Despite everything he had been through, Rhett comes to a realization that his family would do anything for you, him and Amy

Warnings: Perry slander, shouting, cursing, mentions of abuse, custody battle, Perry being a total shithead etc. etc.

Tagging: @sebsxphia @nobody7102

It was a gloomy, rainy evening, one of those evenings where not a single person would have ever thought it best to go anywhere or do anything. Rain pelted the windows while thunder had begun to roll over Wabang, the chill in the air giving you and Rhett a glimpse of the chilly autumn that would soon be coming.

Rhett sat at the kitchen table with a mug full of steaming hot cinnamon and vanilla coffee, made just a little lighter by the splash of milk that had come from the gallon jug in the fridge. It had been a long day and an even tougher one. Amy was only a week and a half old, the tiny little baby needing round-the-clock care, but the thought of Perry trying to get at her was always on his mind. Always it lingered like a bad smell, annoying and irritating, gnawing at his bones and his mind ceaselessly.

The day that you had brought Amy home had been three days after Rebecca had left, not wanting a single thing to do with the family or her daughter. You and Rhett had both felt horrible and yet, you were both at ease knowing that Amy would be better off with the both of you.

But he also thought back to the days when he and Perry had been children. Rhett had often been left to his own devices while Perry remained under the watchful eyes of his mother and father. Rhett had always wondered why, why they hadn’t paid as much attention to him as they had done for Perry. It was enough to drive him crazy.....utterly, fucking crazy.

The kitchen door creaked open and in walked Royal who hung his hat on the rack near the microwave. “Hey son,” he said.

Rhett didn’t respond, bringing the coffee mug to his lips and taking in that warming liquid. “Come back to gimme shit?” Rhett asked him.

Royal sighed and shook his head. “Listen, Rhett.....”

“Whaddaya want Dad?” Rhett questioned. “Huh? Still protecting Perry like he’s the prodigal son?”

Royal snorted a little. “Wouldn’t protect that shithead after what he did.”

Rhett scrunched his eyebrows together. “Whaddaya mean?”

Royal seated himself across from Rhett. “Every day I look at that baby upstairs and I think back to you, Rhett,” Royal explained. “The day you entered this world, I held you and made a vow to protect you no matter the cost. When you and (y/n) brought Amy home last weekend, I thought of you.”

Rhett had never expected to hear that from his father. Growing up, Royal hadn’t been the most affectionate with him.....no, that had fallen on Royal’s father, River Abbott, a salty Vietnam Veteran who had practically taken care of Rhett when Royal and Cecelia couldn’t. To hear it from Royal himself was a complete shock.

Royal pulled an envelope out of the inside pocket of his coat and slid it over to Rhett, the corner reading the address of the Amelia County Courthouse. “What’s this?”

“Paperwork for the lawyers,” Royal explained. “Perry signs that and he relinquishes all parental rights to Amy, you and (y/n) get full, legal and binding custody of her until she’s eighteen.”

Rhett went wide-eyed. “Dad how did you.....?”

“I’ve known the judge since we were kids,” Royal answered. “Your godfather promised to have Beth intervene if necessary too.”

Rhett was in shock, complete shock at what Royal had done for him. “Dad you didn’t have to....”

Royal held up a hand, a sign for Rhett to silence himself. “There’s somethin else too.....I owe you this more than anything.”

He slid another envelope towards Rhett which was promptly opened. Rhett’s eyes grew even wider than before. “Dad?”

“It’s the last twenty five thousand you and (y/n) need for the house in Montana,” he explained. “John and I had a good enough auction year that we could pool it together.”

Rhett ran his hand over his mouth, his eyes beginning to mist over from the tears that were forming. “Dad I.....I dunno what to say,” he croaked.

“Ya’ll don’t have to say anything,” Royal insisted. “You three have been through enough.”

Rhett stood up and soon he and his father both had their arms around each other. “Thank you, Dad.”

The sound of the porch stairs creaking, suddenly startled them both, but thankfully it was only Cecelia coming in from the barn. “Listen to me,” Royal warned him. “Ya’ll make sure that as soon as dinner’s over that (y/n) goes upstairs and locks herself and the baby in the nursery. I’ve got a feelin he’ll be home later and shit’s gonna hit the fan.”

Rhett nodded and took the two envelops off the table, heading upstairs to put them away in the little wooden mailbox above his computer desk. He passed through the hall, right by the room that served as Amy’s nursery. Through the slightly ajar door, he saw you standing near Amy’s crib, calmly rocking her in your arms, cooing to her in the soft glow of her little Disney princess lamp that rested on her dresser. Amy looked so delicate and cozy, wrapped in the little Irish knit blanket that you and Cecelia had worked on since before she had been born.

“Uh huh.....yeah I know.....but your Daddy will take care of that big, mean monster who likes to come around here and snoop,” you told Amy as she cooed sleepily.

Rhett entered the room, unable to control the smile on his face upon seeing you. “How are my girlies?” he chuckled.

“Well, one girlie is still having some trouble sleeping,” you answered. “And one has been wanting you all day long.”

Rhett laughed a little bit, pushing a loose wisp of hair out of his face, drawing you in and kissing Amy’s little head. “Listen darlin,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve gotta tell you something.”

“What’s up?”

“Dad told me that after dinner he needs you and Amy to stay upstairs,” Rhett explained. “Don’t come outta here, no matter what you hear, no matter what’s said...lock the door and make sure you’re with Amy.”

You nodded, not needing to ask any questions. The last time you had witnessed something in the Abbott household involving the huge fight between Perry and Rhett, had been something you wished you hadn’t witnessed.

************

The kitchen was quieter than it had ever been, the two men dreading what would ensue the minute Perry saw those papers, Royal most of all. He didn’t feel guilty, not at all, but rather a deep sense of tension that left him and Rhett ramped up, the anxiety so noticeable one could have smelled it.

“He ain’t comin,” Rhett muttered when the digital clock on the stove turned to eight.

“Just you wait,” Royal said, taking a sip of the coffee in his mug. “He’ll come stompin through any minute.”

Sure enough, there was the door, creaking open, only to shut again followed by the clunking of heavy boots.....Perry.

“The fuck is this?” Perry asked when he entered the kitchen and saw the papers on the table.

“Somethin for you to sign,” Royal informed him.

Perry snatched the papers off the table, his eyes glazing over them quickly. The silent tension in the room had grown worse, Perry’s jaw clenching and his eyes burning before he slammed the papers to the table.

“Hell no!” he declared loudly.

“You’re gonna sign those fuckin papers whether you like it or not,” Royal snarled.

“That’s my daughter......MY daughter!”

“She’s my daughter too,” Rhett said icily.

“Fuck you!” Perry shouted. “She ain’t your flesh and blood! Your fuckin wife didn’t birth her!”

Rhett and Perry lunged right for each other but Royal was quick enough to grab Perry by the shirtcollar and slammed him right onto the kitchen table, the coffee mugs spilling their contents and clattering to the floor.

“Now you listen to me you shit-for-brains goat turd,” Royal sneered. “You go anywhere and I mean ANYWHERE, near that baby and I’ll fuckin bury you. You so much as TOUCH my grandbaby and I’ll have ya’ll shipped off to the backwoods in another country and see how ya’ll deal with it then.”

“I’m your fuckin son, Dad,” Perry blurted out.

“Not anymore,” Royal spat. “I gave ya every chance I could Perry. Enough’s enough. Ya’ll got two weeks to pack your shit and get the fuck outta my house. If ya aren’t out by then, I’m callin Joy to evict your sorry ass.”

“M’sorry Dad,” Perry blurted out again. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t you fucking say you’re sorry to us!” Rhett shouted. “You don’t know what either of us has given up to protect your sorry ass or to protect Amy from you! YOU’RE THE REASON AMY DOESN’T HAVE A FUCKING MOM!!!”

Oh did that one shut Perry right up. He couldn’t even form words, much less a coherent sentence.

“Go get the phone,” Royal told Rhett. “I want Rip, Kayce and Wes all in here as witnesses to make sure those papers get signed.”

“Oh it would be my utmost pleasure Dad,” Rhett agreed, still coming down from the highs of his anger.

*****************

Up in the nursery, you sat in the creaky old rocker that had been in the family for generations, gently rocking the tiny baby in your arms as she remained attached to your nipple. It wasn’t easy being on the medicine that stimulated the flow of milk, but Cecelia’s old home remedies had been an immense help as well. Besides, you and Rhett hadn’t been comfortable at all with the idea of Amy being completely bottle fed all the time.

You tried not to think about the awful shouting and clattering downstairs in the kitchen, right below your feet, hoping it wouldn’t wake Amy. A wakeful little coo escaped Amy’s throat as she suckled away, filling her little belly full of milk to put her to sleep.

“Slow down princess,” you chuckled, feeling her tug just slightly. “You must be hungrier than I thought.”

You cringed a little bit when you heard a loud curse coming up through the floorboards, letting out the deep breath you held in. Thank God the door was locked. If anybody had broken in, you wouldn’t have been able to hide properly.

You quietly sang to Amy, hoping that it would put you both at ease. You had always loved playing “Edelweiss” on the guitar or the little hand harp you had gotten as a wedding gift, the words so happy and full of love, reminding you of your first spring with Rhett and the story he told of his Oma Heidi and her journey to America.

No sooner had you finished than a soft knock at the door signaled Rhett’s arrival. You carefully stood up and unlocked the door to let him in, a look of victory on his face.

“Did you do it?” you asked.

“Papers are signed,” Rhett answered, grinning when your face lit up.

“She’s ours?!” you suddenly blurted out. “She’s really ours?”

“She is sweetheart,” Rhett told you, kneeling beside the rocker and kissing the top of Amy’s head. “She’s all ours.”

You were so full of joy that your eyes began to well up, even as Rhett pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. It would still be a bit of a long road, but at long last, Amy was rightfully yours.....and always would be.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #amy abbott #royal abbott #outer range

99 notes · View notes

elliespassagerprincess · 1 year ago

Note

I've been obsessed with john buckleys "everybody here wants you" I'd love to see your take on it maybe from the readers pov like where we are admiring ellie

Everybody here wants you - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon! your wish, is command... I hope you enjoy <3

This story is based off the song Everybody here wants you by Jeff Buckley, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

Requests are always open feel free to leave one or just send me a song and I'll take it from there:) or just send me your thoughts....

HUGE Warning: obsession, stalking, murder, gore, self harm, reader is unhinged, Dina slander (we love Dina but for the sake of the plot we're haters)

Summary: In which you fell in love with someone you couldn't have

wc: 1.9k

29 pearls in your kiss

A singing smile

Coffee smell and lilac skin

Your flame in me

I'm only here for this moment

When you first laid eyes on Ellie it felt like your body was on fire.

Ellie awakened some deep desire in you, that even you yourself didn’t understand.

When she caught you staring all she could do was give you a small smile, and you felt your stomach erupt with butterflies. Even after she caught you, you couldn’t help but to continue staring.

The way her autumn brown hair was in a half up, half down look, the way the red and green flannel hugged her arms the right way, how her side profile looked. Just everything about her. Everything about her was without fault.

god really has his favorites huh?

You didn’t know who she was, you didn’t know her name but god she was doing things to you. You got up from where you were sitting and walked behind her. As soon as you walked past her, a strong scent of pinewood hit you.

Wow jesus, ok does she bath in her perfume? You thought to yourself.

As you stood at the other side of the room watching this beautiful woman you heard someone scream “Ellie” the autumn brown haired girl’s head snapped up, looking at another girl.

You wanted to vomit.

You wanted to stab your eyes out after watching Ellie smile with someone else.

“Dina!” Ellie screamed back standing up and immediately running to the girl with dark hair and hugging her. Even though you were filled with jealousy you knew her name now.

Ellie.

Your Ellie.

I know everybody here wants you

I know everybody here thinks he needs you

I'll be waiting right here just to show you

How our love will blow it all away

You weren’t stupid. Ellie was an attractive girl. The day you met Ellie you saw how people looked at her. The way their gaze’s lingered on her beautiful face. Whether it was men or women it seemed that Ellie’s beauty had everyone in awe.

Everybody here wanted Ellie. Everybody in this room did.

How would Ellie notice you when there’s hundreds, probably thousands of people throwing themselves at her.

That day when you first saw Ellie and found out her name, you spent exactly 72 hours looking for her Instagram. You went through thousands of accounts trying to find her. When you eventually found Ellie’s Instagram you learned a lot more about her.

She loved skating, she’s very gay and she has a best friend named Dina.

You let out a sigh of relief when you realized that they were only friends. But the way Ellie smiled at her made your stomach churn.

You saw Dina as a threat.

Who wouldn’t? She was everything you weren’t. And at least Ellie knew of her existence.

You clicked on Dina’s profile going through each one of her posts, comments and everything about her. You memorized Dina’s page, every post, comment and caption. You had to figure out what Ellie saw in Dina. You had to become Dina.

A week went by, and neither Ellie or Dina posted anything. You felt like you were losing your mind. As soon as you wanted to give up and move on, Dina made a post that she was throwing a huge party. A smile appeared on your face. This was your chance.

Miracles do happen. You were going to that party. And you were going to get Ellie’s number.

Hmm, such a thing of wonder in this crowd

I'm a stranger in this town

You're free with me

And our eyes locked in downcast love

I sit here proud

Even now, you're undressed in your dreams with me

You shouldn’t have come here. Everybody in this room wanted Ellie. The way they all started at her with hungry eyes, the way they were practically undressing her with their eyes. You didn’t like this. You didn’t like the way they were looking at your girl.

You were burning holes into the back of Ellie’s head at this point. Ellie turned around frowning when somebody bumped into her, and for the first time in almost two weeks the two of you locked eyes again.

Ellie gave you a smile. That fucking smile. The same one she gave you two weeks ago. You sat there frozen after she turned away. You didn’t know if you should cry or be excited. Ellie smiled at you. She definitely wants you.

You felt out of place. Everyone in this stupid party knew each other. You felt like you didn’t belong. You hated being here, but if it means you’ll be in Ellie’s presence a little longer you’ll put up with it.

“Hi” you heard a voice say behind you, and when you turned around your eyes met with Dina’s.

“Hi Dina” you said softly.

“How do you know my name?”

fuck how did you know her name?

were you supposed to tell the truth? that you were stalking her?

“I’m a friend of Ellie’s” you smiled.

“Oh! A friend of Ellie’s is a friend of mine!” She gave you a bright smile bringing you in for a hug.

“It was nice meeting you” Dina smiled as she started walking away. Your eyes followed her seeing that she was walking towards Ellie.

Fuck fuck fuck no no no

what happens if she asks Ellie about you? They would know you’re a fake. And you’d never get a chance with Ellie.

“Hey Dina” you called out and she turned toward you, “yeah?” she yelled over the music.

“Can you please show me where the bathroom is?”

“Oh yeah follow me” Dina reached out you, offering her hand so that you can grab it. The two of you walked in the crowd hand in hand.

Dina was talking too much. She’s so fucking annoying you thought to yourself.

What does Ellie see in her?

“Here we go” Dina said as she pushed open a door. The room was decorated with white and blue wallpaper, and there was a bed in the middle of the room.

“You want me to pee on the bed?” you questioned.

“No silly” Dina laughed she walked to the other side of the room pushing open another door, revealing a bathroom.

“Wait let me check if there’s toilet paper- “

Dina’s body landed on the floor with a thud as blood seeped from her head. You stood above her holding a lamp heavily breathing. Tears pricked your eyes.

What the fuck were you thinking? You weren’t a killer. You never wanted to harm Dina.

You looked down at your hands seeing that the blood on top of the lamp dripped down onto your own hands.

“No” you yelled throwing it on the ground. You sat on the bed sobbing.

You were going to prison. You were a killer. You were dirty. You were a bad person.

No.

No you weren’t.

Dina was going to tell Ellie. She was going to tell Ellie that you lied. You weren’t a bad person, you just made a mistake. A mistake that you will clean up before anyone came looking for Dina.

You quickly got up wiping the tears from your eyes, and you locked the door.

You quickly grabbed a towel and you wrapped it around her head to try and stop the bleeding as much as you can to make the cleanup easier. You dragged Dina’s body closer to the bed as you let out a grunt as you placed her on the bed.

You walked to the bathroom looking through the cupboard “fuck yeah” you breathed when you saw a pack of razors. You gently took one out and you walked over to Dina.

She was still breathing, but you knew after this she wouldn’t.

You took the razor and you dragged across her writs. On each arm you dragged it 4 times and you watched the blood pool out of her arms. You gently removed the towel from her head, seeing her eyes were open and her mouth was moving.

“I’m sorry” you breathed.

It was an accident. You weren’t a bad person.

You took some blood from her wrists and she winched, you walked over to the wall and you wrote the words “I’m sorry” hoping that they might think that Dina is apologizing for her “suicide”.

But in reality this was you apologizing to everyone you knew this was going to affect.

You got down on your knees and you cleaned the blood from Dina’s first wound that was still left on the floor. By the time the place was spotless Dina already too her last breath, as the sheets were soaked with her blood.

“I’m sorry” you apologized one more time before you jumped out the window running home.

The only regret you had that night was not getting Ellie’s number.

I know the tears we cried

Have dried on yesterday

The sea of fools has parted for us

There's nothing in our way, my love

“I’m sorry for your loss” you spoke softly.

“Who are you?” Ellie asked.

“I was a friend of Dina’s” you lied.

Ellie sniffled “do you know why she killed herself?” she asked as she looked at Dina’s grave again.

“No” you muttered

“I thought she was happy”

"me too"

“Wait you’re that girl from the party” Ellie said after a few minutes of silence. Your stomach fluttered at the fact that she remembered you.

“Yeah” you smiled

You and Ellie spoke about Dina for a while, you made up stories about what great friends you and Eina were and you were happy that Ellie could finally talk to you.

The two of you exchanged numbers that day and you couldn’t be happier.

Dina didn’t die in vain. She died for you and Ellie to be happy. There was nothing standing in the way of your love anymore.

Don't you see, don't you see?

You're just the torch to put the flame to all our guilt and shame

And I'll rise like an ember in your name

I know I, I know

Why didn’t Ellie see? You were here for her since Dina’s funeral.

Why wasn’t she falling in love with you? Why didn’t she realized everything you’ve done for her? Every time you would show Ellie affection or love she never showed it back. Ellie saw you as an acquaintance not a friend and it was the hardest thing for you to accept.

You knew that deep down she loved you.

Maybe she’s scared of her feelings. Maybe she didn’t love you. Maybe you need to encourage her. Maybe you need to show her how much you loved her.

And that’s exactly what you did. You showed her.

You stared texting her more often, you started following her around. You sent her letters. And soon Ellie blocked you. She’d throw rocks at you when she’d see you.

Ellie sprayed you with pepper spray once. Ellie was doing anything and everything she can to stay away from you. She even moved across the city to get away.

But you’d always find her. You’d always get her.

Ellie awoke something in you. Something primal, an animal instinct. You blame her for the way you’re acting. She made you this way.

You tormented Ellie for 2 months she got a restraining order against you. But that didn’t stop you. You just learned to become sneakier. You’d still follow her around you still text but for different number, you’d pretend to be different people.

Ellie was going to love you one way or another. You’d make her love you, with or without that stupid restraining order.

The restraining order reminded you of Dina. It was something that was in the way of you and Ellie’s love. The same way you got rid of Dina, the same way you could get rid of that restraining order. After all Dina was temporary, her life ended. The same was that restraining order was temporary. It will end eventually too, and you’d finally get your chance with Ellie.

I know everybody here, well, thinks he needs you

Thinks he needs you

And I'll be waiting right here just to show you

Everybody at this park wanted Ellie. You hated the way they stared at her as she walked. You hated all of this. You wish you could stick a knife into all their eyes sockets to make them all stop staring at her.

Ellie still hasn’t noticed you after all this time. Even after Dina’s death you thought you had something. But its ok. One day Ellie will realize that you were the one for her. One day she’ll see you the way you see her.

21 days left. 21 days before the restraining order expires. After 5 long years of watching Ellie from afar was soon coming to an end.

You’ll wait for her. Even if it takes forever.

She’ll come around, you know she will, and until then you’ll admire her till the two of you could finally be together.

Authors note: Another long one lmao, but remember you are loved and to always be kind. My requests and pm’s are always open for anything and anyone:)

Yours truly,

Zia <3

77 notes · View notes

littlequeenies · 6 months ago

Text

‘I’ve been called a witch, slut, murderer’: the ultra-creative women dismissed as rock star girlfriends

Despite their artistic skill, Anita Pallenberg, Suzi Ronson and Yoko Ono were cast as mere lovers or muses. They're now being allowed to tell their own stories – even if it's after death-Annie ZaleskiTue 21 May 2024 11.46 CEST

In a 2008 interview, Anita Pallenberg swore she would never write her autobiography. The artist, model and actor was weary of publishers who only wanted to read about her intimate dealings with the Rolling Stones – she dated both Brian Jones and Keith Richards, and had an affair with Mick Jagger. “They all wanted salacious,” she said then. “And everybody is writing autobiographies and that’s one reason why I’m not going to do it.”

Yet when Pallenberg died in 2017, she left behind pages of a neatly typed manuscript, titled Black Magic, that contained her life story. True to form, she characterised these memoirs as “memory images, a traveller’s tale through a landscape of dreams and shadows” rather than an autobiography. But she held little back while chronicling her spirited and frequently tumultuous life, quipping: “I don’t think the lawyers will like it very much.”Read in a narration by Scarlett Johansson, her unpublished words are the backbone of a compelling new documentary, Catching Fire: The Story of Anita Pallenberg. Kate Moss celebrates her as “the original bohemian rock chick that people still aspire to today” but more valuable is Pallenberg reframing her legacy on her own terms from beyond the grave. “I’ve been called a witch, a slut, a murderer. I’ve been hounded by the police and slandered in the press,” she wrote, before adding, “But I don’t need to settle scores. I’m reclaiming my soul.”Given how much ink has been spilt on the Stones over the years, it’s refreshing to hear Pallenberg share her own perspective on her experiences. She’s not the only high-profile rock girlfriend now getting a chance to tell their own story, asserting their place in, and influence on, male-dominated music culture.

Suzi Ronson, who was married to the guitarist Mick Ronson, just released a candid memoir, Me and Mr Jones: My Life with David Bowie and the Spiders from Mars, that’s a clear-eyed look at rock star mythology. Pattie Boyd, married to both George Harrison and Eric Clapton, was interviewed in 2018 by Taylor Swift for Harper’s Bazaar (“George and Eric had an inability to communicate their feelings through normal conversation,” Boyd said, “I became a reflection for them”) and this year she eloquently reminisced as she auctioned her memorabilia, including love letters from Clapton and handwritten Harrison lyrics, for a staggering £2,818,184. “The letters from Eric – they’re so desperate and passionate, a passion that blooms once in a lifetime,” she said. “They’re too painful in their beauty.”

Tate Modern, in London, is meanwhile celebrating Yoko Ono with a career-spanning exhibition, Yoko Ono: Music of the Mind – a pointed reminder that Ono’s artistic collaboration with John Lennon was only a relatively brief part of her career. It shows how her artistry spans theatre, writing and music, but also how it makes space for her story to change over time – for example, the various performances of Cut Piece across the decades – and for others’ perspectives. Take Ono’s 1964 artist’s book Grapefruit, which uses short, abstract action items (“Imagine the clouds dripping. Dig a hole in your garden to put it in”) to generate a huge potential variety of creative responses.

Among those was Lennon’s Imagine. In a 1980 BBC interview, Lennon said Grapefruit provided “the lyric and the concept” of the song, but Ono didn’t receive a songwriting credit until 2017 even though Lennon was aware of the oversight in his lifetime. “But those days I was a bit more selfish, a bit more macho,” he told the BBC, “and I sort of omitted to mention her contribution.”

Pallenberg, too, served as inspiration for Rolling Stones songs such as Gimme Shelter. But Catching Fire reinforces the idea that even if sexism meant she was underestimated by the public, she wasn’t a passive presence or muse. “Neither Anita nor I wanted to be with them because we wanted some of their power,” Marianne Faithfull says in voiceover – she was in the band’s orbit alongside Pallenberg owing to a relationship with Jagger. “We had our own power.”

Faithfull’s power was her own music career; Pallenberg, who spoke several languages and worked as a model, influenced the Stones’ look. (“I started to become a fashion icon for wearing my old lady’s clothes,” Richards quipped in his bookLife.) And she refused to rearrange her life for the Stones. “No girls were allowed in the studio when they were recording,” she said. “You weren’t allowed even to ring. I did other things; I didn’t sit at home.” She maintained an acting career, notably in 1968’s movie Barbarella and 1970’s Performance – though her voice was dubbed out in the former: you wonder whether her “muse” tag meant casting directors underestimated her.

Suzi Ronson, a colour-loving hair wizard who brought David Bowie’s tomato-red Ziggy Stardust coif to life, also took a different path from other women of her time. She left a steady job and went on the road, steering the Ziggy Stardust tour aesthetic by handling hair, makeup, and other tasks.

Me and Mr Jones illuminates her part in helping Bowie crystallise his vision – and shows how fame and rock stardom corrupt. On a Mott the Hoople tour, she seethes while Mick, cozying up to a baroness, orders Suzi to find his hairbrush, treating her like an assistant rather than a girlfriend. It wasn’t the only time she was underestimated. “I’m now the pathetic girlfriend, clinging on to my man, a position I never thought I’d find myself in,” she writes after joining Mick on tour with Bob Dylan for a few days, after not being invited. “I try to be understanding, but truthfully I’m infuriated at being left out.”

These new works also highlight how each woman, at a time when women struggled to “have it all”, cultivated agency through one of the only paths open to them: motherhood. Rather than being something limiting, becoming mothers allowed them to reinvent their lives. Suzi Ronson, long out of Bowie’s orbit and living in England with her parents after giving birth, reflects that “the life I created for myself has disappeared, and my career with it,” she writes, but her daughter brings joy and solace – and encourages her to stay optimistic and keep striving for a unique path. “As I push her around the same streets my mother used to push me, I swear to her: this isn’t going to be it, and I pray I’m right.” Ronson closes the loop by noting that she and Mick return to the US, living in the singer Maria Muldaur’s house and finding equilibrium.

Ono confronted motherhood’s messiness. Her installation My Mommy Was Beautiful used photos of breasts and vaginas to demystify birth and celebrate the strength of the body, and the 1969 song Don’t Worry Kyoko (Mummy’s Only Looking for a Hand in the Snow) – which Yoko wrote for her young daughter Kyoko – conveys primal agony and frustration. “Society’s myth is that all women are supposed to love having children,” Ono said in 1981. “But that was a myth. So there was Kyoko, and I did become attached to her and had great love for her, but at the same time, I was still struggling to get my own space in the world. I felt that if l didn’t have room for myself, how could I give room to another human being?”

Pallenberg also navigates this conundrum. Jake Weber, the actor son of notorious Stones associate Tommy Weber, becomes visibly emotional when talking about how “generous and funny” Pallenberg was to him after his mother died in 1971, during the Stones’ debauched French summer. “She filled a vacuum of a surrogate parent,” he said. “She was lovely like that. Her thing was trying to give us joy.” Catching Fire also visits the agonising fallout of the sudden June 1976 death of Pallenberg’s 10-week-old son Tara.

Pallenberg has the last word in Catching Fire, and her conclusion illustrates the importance of women directing their own narratives. “Writing this has helped me emerge in my own eyes,” she noted. “Reading over what I’ve written, I get a lump in my throat. But it doesn’t need to be a doom and gloom kind of story.” The film makes it clear that Pallenberg’s chief power was, ultimately, resilience, which she needed during an often-challenging life (she lived with various addictions, including to heroin and alcohol) and several tragic events, such as when a 17-year-old shot and killed himself in Richards’ bed.

“I felt like some nasty person who caused death and destruction around her,” Pallenberg said after the 1979 incident, but Catching Fire refuses to let Pallenberg become a tragic figure or cautionary tale. The film ends noting that she got sober, graduated from college, and aged with iconoclastic gusto. The lessons are clear – redemption is possible and we are not our worst moments – while also reinforcing what we miss when women’s voices are silenced or ignored. Catching Fire: The Story of Anita Pallenberg, directed by Alexis Bloom and Svetlana Zill is in UK and Irish cinemas now

17 notes · View notes

wanderingmind867 · 3 months ago

Text

I think 1985 was the year when comics completely almost lose themselves to me. Based on reading marvel (and reading about DC) I know that this date has to be the date comics lose interest to me. I'll explain: comics from the 60s to the mid 70s seem okay. 1960 to 1974 or 1975 are the peak years, in my opinion. But then things start to go downhill in the late 70s. Frank Miller ruins Daredevil with his edginess, Chris Claremont kills Jean Grey and messes with the X-Men, The Hulk loses his love interest in Jarella, Denny O'Neill ruins Batman by making him darker again, Gerry Conway kills off Gwen Stacy (for no good reason!) etc. I know the Gerry Conway one was a bit earlier than the mid to late 70s, but it was still a bad decision.

Anyways, things only get worse from here (at least for my sensibilities). If i thought the mid to late 70s were bad, the 80s become a bit of a train wreck. Jim Starlin kills Captain Mar-Vell and Jason Todd, The Hulk has the Professor Hulk saga (something I don't really like), John Byrne messes with the Fantastic Four and Superman, Walt Simonson makes Thor ditch Don Blake (which I hate). Really, Jim Shooter messes with Marvel and sadly oversees a lot of bad stuff (I don't know if that's all his fault, but I get a negative impression of him as editor).

But I have time for one last paragraph, so let's talk more about 80s DC. Alan Moore gets brought in, and he brings his horrible pessimism and darkness over to DC. As someone who's already prone to sadness, I don't need depression in my fiction. But even besides Alan Moore, DC had issues. Like the Crisis on Infinite Earths, which was meant to uncomplicate things (but may have complicated things more). Then DC gets Frank Miller, Jim Starlin and John Byrne, and it all goes downhill. I'm really just repeating slander against certain people, but I guess it's just that I'm always opinionated about these sorts of things.

6 notes · View notes

novashelby · 6 months ago

Text

OC Interview

Thank you @evita-shelby for tagging me. :) I am going to answer for Evie because my other OCs are tragic stories. Evie

Are you named after anyone? Well...we don't really talk about the womb provider who named me. I'd like to think not. But! Aunty Polly gave me a middle name after her favorite flower.

🌹Evelyn Rose Shelby. 🌹

When was the last time you cried?

It was a long day at school-(Finn: you get out at one....). Ahem! Is this your interview or mine? Thought so. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted...It was a long day at school. Daddy just the day before got me something from the bakery. I placed it in a very special spot in the press-(Finn: Everyone knows where your special spot is....). Seriously, Finn, who invited you? So...daddy placed it for me in a special spot. You know how bad I wanted that pastry? I was running home for it....(Finn: Evie, your lunch is at 11:30...there is no fuckin' way you're hungry). Excuse you, you know what happens when I don't eat hourly....Anyway, I got home, grabbed a chair from the table to reach into the press. It was gone! I cried. (Finn: She threw a tantrum). I was devastated! I have my suspicions of who ate it.

(John: I refuse to stand for this slander!)

Do you have any kids?

I-(Tommy: She better fuckin' not for another fifteen years....why ya' askin' her that?) Daddy...no, but me and Peter want many babies-(Tommy: Peter who?) And we got married in the courtyard during break. (Tommy: didn't even bloody fuckin' ask me...).

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Nooo, of course not, what's that? (Tommy: I don't even know where she gets it from!)

(Ada: It's a bonding moment).

What is the first thing you notice about people?

Their nose...like right up their nose. Kind of a character flaw when you're shorter than everyone. (Finn: she has a habit of staring...then saying what she sees up their nose.) (Tommy: It's humiliating when it's a parent-teacher conference at her school and it's the nun-) (Grace: It was suppose to be our bonding moment...Go to her school and make an appearance. I, um, no longer want to make an appearance). Listen, someone had to tell Sister Francis what was in there.

What is your eye color?

Blue. (Finn: She's colorblind...her eyes are hazel-green).

Any special talents?

Many-(Finn: Absolutely nothing!) (Tommy: My baby girl is good at many things...giving me a headache, for one. The second being...Turing that headache into an aneurysm.) Daddy....(Tommy: OI! She's also good making the money in my wallet disappear...magic!) I'm good at baking (John: she burns everything). It's called crisping! (Finn: It's called watching the timer and not taking a nap while something is in the oven!) Whatever...I can sing! (Ada: She's good a making ears bleed. 🙃) Fine, I'm very good at being bad at everything.

Scary movies or happy endings?

(John: *snorts, laughing* Happy endings for me, eh?) Huh...(Tommy: don't worry about it....) Oh, ok. Um...I like happy ending stories.

Where were you born?

Daddy....*frowns* (Tommy: she doesn't know...c'mere, love).

Do you have any pets?

Daddy won't let me....(Tommy: she can barely keep herself alive.)

How tall are you?

...... (Finn: It's a sensitive topic....). (Polly: She's just reached 4'10...measured her against the wall just yesterday.)

What was your favorite subject in school?

LUNCH!

What is your dream job?

Peter says I don't have to work....he's gonna provide for me. He delivers the newspaper... (Tommy: WHO the fuck is Peter? Evie....)

I think everyone I know with OCs has been tagged, but I am gonna try anyway: @runnning-outof-time, @wonderlanddreamer, @moral-terpitude and honestly anyone else who wants to do it. Just tag me for I can read it. :)

#tag your oc #tags #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders oc #original character #oc

8 notes · View notes

insufferable-homestuck · 1 year ago

Text

GWAAAAAHAVAHAHA just finished reading the hs^2 update, here's some notes with the least amount of spoilers I can manage

the art is AMAZING the gifs are back baby and you can tell how much work is put into every single one of these, i had to stop myself from downloading all the panels just cause they looked pretty

I caught some references to.. "recent" memes i guess? [ you can't exactly call "little lad who loves berries and cream" recent but the other two were ] they felt super out of place <— which made them WONDERFULLY DELIGHTFUL you will not catch me slandering them here, i loved them, caught me off guard, loved them

they're taking this in the most amazing direction it can go, cliffhanger for the new species (( on what's called a .bro file which. OUGH so good ily ult dirk you're weird )) arasol complicated relationship, sollux roxy friendship!! terezi and ult dirk being on each others cocks, john facing his own emotions agAIN, oh and terezi also had to!! yay! development. so good

i rate this update a 10/10, 5/5 caps man, i felt like a kid on christmas morning, this is the closest I'll get to experiencing the joy of Homestuck updating back in the day, the site even bugs!! cause everyone is on it!! like the good ol days I never experienced, but I'm experiencing them now in this own weird way and what a beautiful thing that is

and to the new management that's holding this comic in their chokehold rn, i love you and hope you're well, I'll kiss your hand like you're a priest

#only caught one mistake in dialogue where Terezi typed an E but ill forgive and forget #homestuck #hom3stuck #homestuck^2 #hs^2

29 notes · View notes

mythserene · 1 year ago

Text

Mark Lewisohn really wants to overturn narratives and “Get Back” accidentally gave us incredible insight into how little it takes to make him smoothly and confidently wrong

Great AKOM. Maybe too good because it left basically nothing to add on the primary topic. This show followed my own notes more than any so far—but I had not caught the John quote being about the Maharishi—chef's kiss. 👩‍🍳💋

However... it does give me a chance to riff off something they touched on that I've also been thinking about for awhile: Mark Lewisohn's big desire to overturn narratives, and how wrong he gets it when he runs into a fact check we can all see with our own eyes.

Pre-“Get Back” Mark Lewisohn previewed some of the narratives he was itching to overturn, and off the top explained that no one had really told the Get Back sessions correctly. By trying to ingest all that Nagra audio on a sort of anniversary-tribute calendar schedule—(which is insane, impossible, and hubristic beyond words)—he was prepared to make news on a few fronts. (All clips of him are from 2019.)

First of all, no one has told the "Get Back" sessions story right. Yet.

But after binging the Nagras once the expert is ready to “write it differently”

Redeeming Magic Alex

In this tweet is a hidden wink-wink-hint at the new Magic Alex storyline Lewisohn was queuing up. Although if he hadn't tipped us off in the podcast the “not so bad then” would be meaningless. As it is, we have the key.

Magic Alex has been slandered, his studio was fine, and the Nagras — especially George's good vibes — prove it.

Honestly, just imagine what we would be reading from him if “Get Back” didn't exist. This is the flimsy nonsense he builds entire storylines around. Because he prioritizes flipping narratives second only to deifying John. And like a reporter with a thesis he interviews and searches out sources to prop up that thesis. But unlike a reporter he has no checks. No imperative to give competing evidence. Answers to no one. Is wholly opaque about sources. And most certainly doesn't concern himself with adhering to even the most basic UK and US ethical guidelines for historians.

And so this is possibly the best peek we will ever get into how his process works and just how incredibly flimsy it is.

Paul didn't want to go up on the roof—he was the one who had to be persuaded—because it wasn't enough of a climax

Apparently even Anthology was trying to pull the wool over our eyes about Paul and the rooftop concert, but Lewisohn was ready to rewrite history and tell the truth about Paul not wanting to go up on the roof.

The last clip isn't of Mark Lewisohn, but references him as an expert. The final arbiter of fact. And it fits. Because at this point if Mark Lewisohn says it, no matter how ridiculous it is, it becomes cannon. And it pains me to see anyone—especially Beatles' fans—parroting nonsense and looking foolish.

Mark Lewisohn, heroin expert

It is so clear that Mark Lewisohn is going to handle John and Yoko's heroin issue by feigned expertise blended with apologia and creepy idolatry. (See Prellies in Tune In.) How he thinks he's expert enough to opine on the effects of heroin is beyond me, but that's never stopped him before. I really don't think he ever even questions himself or his superior knowledge of anything, despite zero experience or study. His expertise at extricating John from all hard truths is enough, and will make us all stupider. (Also playing now because I am inching up to pointing out something on those Nagras.)

Repeating Mark Lewisohn: the "Two Junkies" interview (where John literally had to stop to throw up) was from a heroin hangover because John and Yoko weren't messed up enough to actually be doing heroin on set

*I posted this last night and Tumblr disappeared 90% of the post then wouldn't let me post more audio because it counted the disappeared audio against me. Therefore I forced myself to repost it this morning before listening to the bonus (Womak/Mal Evans) AKOM I've been so looking forward to and may now go revel in my reward without guilt. 😌

#the beatles #beatles #mark lewisohn #lewisohn #tune in #akom #fine tuning #narrative flipping #get back #nagras #john lennon #leader lennon #heroin #historiography #ethics #transparency #Magic Alex #rooftop concert #Spotify

27 notes · View notes

amazing-spider-man-book-club · 6 months ago

Text

Amazing Spider-Man #1 (1963)

Published: March 1963

Containing: "Spider-Man: Freak! Public Menace!", "The Chameleon!"

Introducing: J. Jonah Jameson, John Jameson, The Chameleon (unnamed)

Synopsis: following the death of his uncle, Peter now has to leverage his identity as Spider-Man to find cash quick as a means of taking care of himself and his Aunt May. Various attempts to do so are stopped by his need to maintain a secret identity, his slandering by media mogul J. Jonah Jameson, and indifference by the public at large.

Read alongside us here:

@frankendykes-monster : After the better part of a year, material originally intended for Amazing Fantasy can now be taken off the shelf and published in The Amazing Spider-Man. For as much as these are two separate stories, our first one is divided into three parts and they chain together incredibly well with the new through-line of Peter desperately needing to make money.

Peter's origins are oh so quickly recapped in less than a page and transition immediately to the new status quo he finds himself in, at least for this single issue. Lee's narration on the title page is right, there hasn't been a character like Spider-Man yet, he can't even begin to worry about altruism or emotionally come to terms with his actual ongoing motivations (which will not come to a head for quite some time, keep following this blog!) because he needs to help cover the rent first. I think a lot of subsequent Spider-Man media neglect this lowest point of Peter's life now that I think about it; I'm not sure why, it makes for great material even if it isn't a "fun" read to see Spider-Man suffer. We get to see some nice stuff like Peter making a parachute out of his webbing, which at certain points in this run might feel more like a Green Lantern ring in terms of objects that said web fluid can be molded into. Spider-sense is also used several times, which is a power I've never been hugely into if only because it's convenient for writers to forget Peter has said ability whenever he needs to be punched in the face by someone right in front of him. Said ability was created by Ditko on the spot when asked by Lee how Spider-Man could see and fight people in the dark (just draw squiggly lines above his head and call it a day.)

I actually had no recollection of why Peter can't go back to show business as Spider-Man beyond the ingenious "you can't cash a check signed to Spider-Man" bit, but it's because of the debut of one J. Jonah Jameson. I mentioned in the post for Amazing Fantasy #15 that many of the plethora of characters "introduced" there would only become retroactively important after Ditko left the title...welp...can't say that here. Jameson will become arguably the second most important and frequently appearing character after Peter and immediately hits the ground running.

I think it's a popular interpretation of the character now to say that his thoughts on the subject of Spider-Man are misguided when he, a character inside the story, does not have the benefit of knowledge the we the readers do. It's fair game to say something is off about Spider-Man, this completely anonymous individual that can climb walls and swing across buildings and has already gotten into the habit of being a vigilante. Peter's relationship with Jameson isn't at all developed here, they don't even meet, but that will change soon enough.

Spider-Man exists in the same fictional space as other characters published by Marvel, huh, that was fast. I actually had to double check and see if this was published the same month as Fantastic Four #12, which guest stars The Hulk. It was. Truly the Marvel Age of Comics is upon us (I feel like I've already said this). My general thoughts going forward are...meh? Ditko is going to introduce enough characters and concepts that The Amazing Spider-Man isn't really hurting to team up with or fight other superheroes, but if they're here to stay for the time being, one of his get rich quick schemes being that he wants to join The Fantastic Four isn't a bad one.

And our first proper supervillain of the run, The Chameleon! The Chameleon isn't one of the "heavy hitters" amongst this rogues gallery, more a perpetual b-lister, but he mostly gets by on his excellent design; a blank canvas face that he can easily slide life-like masks over. Though, this is a concept that Ditko had already visited in Out of This World #6 (1957):

That would be the end of things for this issue, a nice transitional piece in the fallout of Spider-Man's origin, but some cracks behind the scenes are already starting to show. Even though the character is officially titled Spider-Man, with the hyphen, the text within the issue can't seem to recall if it's spelled that way or not. The second story has Peter referred to as "Peter Palmer" several times, though this isn't a blunder that would be repeated across several issues (see: Bruce Banner being referred to as Bob Banner). Ditko, upon being given the plot for this issue, reportedly hated the sequence wherein Spider-Man jacks a plane to save John Jameson in a plummeting space craft, comparing it to the likes of a high school football player joining the Super Bowl.

Where the plot that Lee provided Ditko came from is unknown, people looking into the subject like Stan Taylor and Stephen Bissette have come to the conclusion that they actually were provided by Jack Kirby to Lee to pass on to whomever ended up taking over Spider-Man, but the evidence isn't conclusive so I'll not state that that was the case. Ditko wasn't the type to be into flights to space, or making Communist villains like The Chameleon's motivations here, is what I will say. Ditko is clearly already developing very clear ideas on who Spider-Man is and where to take him, and any influence Kirby had on the conception of the character will quickly be shed. This will not be the last time we here of Ditko rejecting or altering ideas presented to him by Lee however.

@duel1971 : So very excited that we can start talking about J Jonah Jameson. In this story we see only one side of the man: a loudmouthed, ungrateful bully. He’s a perfect antagonist for Peter at this point in his story. Peter and his aunt are broke and desperate. Jameson is financially secure and has a platform that allows him to totally destroy Spider-Man’s reputation practically overnight. The fact that Jonah doesn’t actually know he’s targeting a struggling high school student at the moment is his only real defense.

The parallels between the Jameson and Parker families are something I’ll be writing more about as we go. John Jameson is successful and beloved where Spider-Man is shunned and hated, and Jonah has all the power in the world while Aunt May has almost none. Their similarity is in their loyalty to each other: part of Jonah’s hatred of Spider-Man in this issue seems to be fueled by thinking Peter was out to steal John’s glory in some way or another. (I say “seems to be” because it’s hard to take anything he says at face value.)

Second story: This one is really interesting to me because of how ambiguous Peter’s character arc is in it. He continually tries to do the right thing: first trying to impress the Fantastic Four in a desperate bid for a steady paycheck, and then aiding the cops in stopping the Chameleon. Both times, he is rejected and he remains an outlaw at story’s end. The last page features the Fantastic Four reflecting that someone as powerful as Spider-Man may well be a threat someday.

Of course, we know Peter didn’t turn to evil. But things aren’t going well! In spite of being powerful enough to take on the entire Fantastic Four by himself, he’s just a kid who’s worried about his aunt and doesn’t know why everyone hates him so much. It’s all too easy to imagine the path his life might’ve taken.

10 notes · View notes