#i think it's still the 4th somewhere

[happyendingsong]

STARDOM ☆ 7.28.24 ☆ SAPPORO WORLD RENDEZVOUS mayu acts as wingman to help hanan pin tam

[zenjestrr]

I know it'll never happen while Todd is in charge and while Emil is lead writer but I hope we get more playable races in future TES games. they can super easily add Minotaurs, Sea Elves, and Imga with very little lore massaging and with some minor lore additions they can bring Snow Elves, Kothringi, and Lilmothiit back (old faithful bs excuse: hidden population hiding somewhere makes a grand reappearance).

[dayurno]

so you’ve poked the bear: kevin and mao zedong’s poetry?? which poem(s)?? would love to attend one of your classes one day! i’m really interested in Kevin Studies!

whehe i've been watching the bear and for a moment i was like huh! truly playing association games in my head. but anyhow.... KEVIN STUDIES....... oh if i could teach that class i dont think anyone but me would have a good time. thank god i don't have kevin's teacher's temperament.... i've only ever taught kindergarten and i plan to stay that way!

TRULY IT WAS JUST THE FIRST THING THAT CAME TO MIND ..!! most of mao's poetry i suspect reads a lot better in chinese so i am in no position to judge it unfortunately.... i do like this poem though :) perhaps kevin would too? i love the chinese kevin hc so maybe he'd have fun with it + the original version as well. i can't believe i'm linking marxists.org on my aftg blog. oh well!

i think the tl;dr here really is that i'm into the history of marxism so i like thinking kevin would be as well. i mean we are nowhere close to Comrade Day (heh) in canon but i do ultimately think that kevin suffered heaps and bounds of labor abuse and if given fifteen minutes with me could be radicalized. to me he is someone who is very aware of the structures he operates under and isn't that really the first stepping stone of marxism... i should make comradeday my ao3 username

[seoulmates98]

I've been thinking these past few weeks about my interactions with my friends and how I interact with them and come to the conclusion that it feels like they love me as a person but aren't exactly interested in me as a person and now I want l kinda want to cry

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Astro Notes : Short N Sweet <3 Neptune's Revenge

Neptune 1st House - Popular energy. Very well known for their beautiful, majestic energy. Could have a lot of haters but admirers at the same time. Energetically sensitive to alot of others emotions. Sometimes, it can be a lil confusing holding so much power. Because their energy can be mixed up with someone elses if they don't know how to tell the difference. They usually have a strong sense of self, its just other peoples opinions can get in away of that if they arent careful.

Neptune 2nd House - Could use some help on the financial train. They're organic to the way they use their money. I mean, they could be super horrendous spender, spending each and every dime on any and everything. While still some how always having more in their wallet. Or they could be pretty good at saving and are a little bit of a cheapskate.

Neptune 3rd House - Whimsical voices. Poetic writers. Creative thinkers. Very talented when it comes to the hands as well. Could be excellent drawers & painters. Neptune in the 3rd has an ability to travel to very interesting places that aren't too far at home. They may go on lil adventures here and there. But its always a treat. Its kinda strange how well they can be at finding good eats as well with all the travel they do. Could work abroad or go to college somewhere out of their comfort zone a lil.

Neptune 4th House - Has a lot of secrets when it comes to the inner child. Very free, sweet loving children. Can open a door to different realms like we're in Narnia or something. Angelic creatures who enjoy alone time near their favorite place. If they ever share that special place with you consider yourself lucky. They normally keep the things they cherish hidden for a long time.

Neptune in the 5th House - Artists who seek deep into the art and become it. Very creative & a one of a kind with the way they carry the emotion in what it is they do. Can have you thinking hard on what it is they are trying to convey, they are a master at making complexities more harder to figure out. Just be there in the audience and watch the show. You'll never leave the same again.

Neptune in the 6th House - Fun loving pet owners, they go hard for the planet and the creatures that come from it. Real advocates for change and don't take too kindly to insensitive people. Could need to sharpen their boundaries a little more with people. Also, are incredible writers and should tap into this side a bit more. You might end up surprised with what talents you have that could make you some money, or could be a really cool job.

Neptune in the 7th House - Romance is the thing that just keeps on given to these individuals. May need to put the rose colored glasses down. that man might not be for you, love. Don't forget to put more time into your own needs versus the needs of someone else. Your compassionate energy may run dry if you're not using that waterfall of emotion for yourself. People are drawn to 7th house neptunes alot more than you think. They are capable of seeing thru the veil, you just don't notice.

Neptune in the 8th House - Psychologically understands the reasons on why the universe is the way that it is and why the people in it behave the way that we do. Could be honest about a lot of things, dishonest about what they know. The world doesn't need to know everything, which is why the divine gifted them with certain antidotes. Only they can use this so bring healing to a certain nation (or individual) but not everyone can find this secret the way they can. This is normally given to them by spirit guides, ancestors, or thru drreams.

Neptune in the 9th - Impracticality is almost their birth right. They see things in a way that doesnt make sense at all but to them it means something. What I mean is that these people see the world bigger than what they people tell them. They could have big drams and not understand why they have them, but God put them their for a reason. So you can figure them out. You may want to travel and study abroad, or just move somewhere different and don't know how. Thats where all the magic happens, finding out and taking the risk. The sagittarian way.

Neptune in the 10th - Majestic auras. The highlight of the moment. The star. The siren. The energy healer. Do I keep going? Very special creatures who touched this earth to make their dreams come true, even if they have to figure it out themselves. Empathetic to the people around them and are big on helping out with anything whenever they can. The Queens & Kings of the law of attraction. Can attract what they want if they just believe it in it more.

Neptune in the 11th House - Community leaders. Ancients who know they way to what the true reality is meant to be like. Literally can change the world with the way they move, think, and go around helping others. Sweet and lovely people to be around. Needs healing in their own friend groups. Can be a little out there, but thats why people love them.

Neptune in the 12th House - Practical minds in a world that tells them their crazy. No they arent crazy, they just have multiple psychic gifts. And these gifts have a way in showing them things people aren't usually equipped with handling. They need more time alone and in nature to keep themselves grounded. Other wise, they will go crazy from the world telling them that their crazy... When really they know a little more than what they led on. The imagination is a fun place, but also a place where the most hidden becomes entirely to open. Seers of the daylight & the night.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Interference Part 2

Prompt: You run to your FBI neighbor when you and your boyfriend get into a fight.

Part 1

You shut your laptop with a frustrated sigh and crossed out the last address you had written down on your pad of paper. The last two days you had been searching for a place to rent, only to be turned down due to your bad credit or limited income. You didn’t have the privilege of asking your family for help, most of them had shunned you once you got into your relationship and the few that did still speak with you were in no position to lend you money.

Your phone rang again for the 3rd time in 30 minutes, a blocked number popping up on the screen. You had ignored it the last 2 times for the fear that it was your boyfriend, but he should still be in jail with no chance of making phone calls, right?

Deciding it wouldn’t really hurt to answer it, you slid the call open and instantly regretted it once the familiar devious voice spoke to you.

“Hello bird,” he greeted with fake sincerity, using the pet name he made for you as a jab at your eating habits. The fear shot through you just as hard as the other night, rendering you speechless.

“I’m out baby. I’ll be home soon and we can sit down and talk about everything. Hopefully you were able to get the house cleaned, it was a mess the last time I was there.”

He didn’t get a chance to say anything more before you ended the call. Anxiety and fear began creeping into your body, making you scramble to grab a luggage bag from the closet before shoving some clothes, toiletries, and your laptop in it. Running into the living room, you peeked out of the curtains, hoping to see Aaron’s car in the driveway. No such luck.

So grabbing your keys, you left the house, not even bothering to lock it and threw your luggage into the backseat of your car. You tore out of the driveway and down the street like a bat out hell, unsure exactly how far away your boyfriend was. As reckless as driving 50 in a residential was, you took your chances of being pulled over and put as much distance between you and that house before dialing Aaron’s number at a red light.

“Hotchner,” he answered professionally from the other line.

“Aaron. He got out. I don’t know how, maybe his mom paid his bail. He called me and said he was on his way to me.” Your words were fast and frantic. You would've continued rambling had Aaron not stopped you.

"Y/N. Just take a deep breath for me, alright?"

The light turned green and you did as he instructed, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, it doing very little to calm your frazzled nerves but appreciated it regardless.

"Now do you have anywhere you can go, maybe a friends house or family member? Somewhere you'd be safe?"

"No," you spoke. "I don't have any friends and most of my family disowned me when I got into this stupid relationship. The rest of them live on the West Coast."

There was a pause of silence as you felt him thinking over the phone. Most likely figuring out the easiest way to get rid of you and your problems.

"Alright. I have some down time before my meeting in an hour. Why don't you come by and we can figure out a plan. I'll send you the address, just take the elevator to the 4th floor."

A second later you felt the buzz of your phone from the incoming text message. "Ok. Thank you so much Aaron. And I'm so sorry for taking up your time." Tears threatened to fall but you held them back.

"Don't be sorry, Y/N. I want to help you. Don't worry, we'll get this all sorted out. Just text me when you arrive."

"I will," you replied before you both said goodbye and hung up. You put the address in your navigation and drove mindlessly through traffic, so many thoughts going through your head it made you want to scream.

The address wasn't too far from your own homes, arriving there in less than an hour and heading into the very drab looking building before taking the elevator, texting Aaron that you had arrived on the way up.

You had just made it to the front desk before seeing Aaron headed in your direction, giving the receptionist a small smile. "She's with me Lonnette, thank you."

You waited as Lonnette printed your visitor badge and handed it over with a friendly smile before following Aaron through the floor, passing by glass offices and cubicles. You were quiet, not really in the mood for small talk which you felt he sensed and didn't bother saying anything as he lead you up some stairs to an office that you presumed was his by the gold name plaque on his desk.

"Have a seat, please," he offered politely, closing the door and walking over to his side of the desk. "Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee?"

You shook your head. "No thank you. I appreciate the offer though."

He unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down, moving some files to the side. "So I'm genuinely surprised to hear that he's out of jail. You said you think his mother bailed him out?"

"Yeah. I don't think she knows anything about what happened but whenever he asks her for money, she just sends it to him. I think she feels guilty for never being in his life so giving him money when he needs it helps her feel better about it." You rung your hands together, anxious about the whole situation as well as being there, talking with a man that was pretty much a complete stranger, bugging him for help.

"And he called you afterwards, telling you that he was on his way? Did he seem upset?" His tone was curious as if trying to get every piece of puzzle to fit perfectly in order to build an accurate idea of who your boyfriend was. It made sense considering his profession.

"I don't know. He's really good at hiding his anger until he snaps. He was talking like nothing had happened and we were just going to go back to normal." Your head whipped towards the open window blinds where someone was just walking by, Aaron noticing your jumpy behavior immediately.

"You're safe here. No one knows anything about what happened except you and I," he reassured you, making you relax just a little. "I don't think he'll be out of jail for long though, at least until he sees the judge for arraignment. I will personally see to that."

His words brought you a bit of placidity and hope as you still wondered why he would go through such lengths to help you out.

"I do have a small flat not far from here that I use occasionally for late nights at the office when I don't want to drive all the way home. You can stay there for now, until you find a place of your own if you'd like. Completely up to you, I don't want you to feel pressured."

Your eyes looked up from the floor to meet his, surprised by his offer.

"I- uh. I couldn't impose on you like that-

"You wouldn't be. I barely use it anymore, I prefer to be at my home with my son whenever I can."

Son? He has a son. Of course he does. He probably also has a wife or at least a girlfriend since you didn't see a ring on his finger. The thought of him with a son didn't bother you, in fact it only gave you more of a reason to trust him.

"If you're sure you don't mind," you said, trying not to sound too excited, relieved that you wouldn't have to go back to your boyfriends house. "Please let me pay some sort of rent or something though. It's the least I can do."

He shook his head no, his expression soft and nonchalant. "Don't worry about it. You're gonna need the money for your new place. Just promise me that you won't contact him or go back to that house unless you have some sort of escort, preferably by law enforcement."

You could be my escort.

You nodded in agreement, ignoring your thoughts.

“Alright then. I can send you the address and give you the keys now. I'm not sure if the fridge is stocked but feel free to add or throw anything away. There is a washer and dryer there so you can wash the sheets and anything else you need." He pulled his keys from his desk drawer and removed a ring with a single key on it, holding it out for you.

You took it gratefully and stood with him as he buttoned his suit back up and checked his watch.

"Could I at least make you dinner or something?" you blurted, not sure where such confidence came from. "I mean, I just want to do something for you in return for your incredible generosity." You couldn't stop the blush from burning your cheeks, your words successfully embarrassing yourself.

A small smile played at the corner of his mouth, showing off just the slightest sight of dimples. "I'll be with my son tonight but maybe we could grab a coffee sometime tomorrow."

You smiled back, more than satisfied with his offer and followed him out of his office, feeling a few stares from people but avoided eye contact. Aaron walked you back to the receptionist and even had her add you as a contact so visiting would be an easier feat.

"Thank you again Aaron," you spoke, the anxiety you had been feeling for the last few hours, finally beginning to dissipate. He answered with a friendly nod and you entered the elevators. Once the doors closed and you were completely alone, you took in a deep breath. Maybe everything was going to be ok like he said.

[buckets-and-trees]

When He First Got Me

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 2200 Summary: Prequel in the Exiled Nomad Series. July 3, 2017. Steve sees you at a city festival for the Fourth of July, but he's not content with only seeing...

Content/Warnings: explicit smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, rough sex, emotional unavailability, a broken Nomad who thinks he's fine but definitely is not

Author Notes: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ ANY OF THE REST OF THIS SERIES. True stand-alone prequel. A little something for Steve's birthday weekend... This will be a bit of a darker indulgence for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar challenge: mint chocolate chip (involving a loner), sprinkles (birthday and 4th of July), cherries (meet-cute), and we'll even say some caramel (because Steve is not quite in a great headspace if we're being honest). AND I'm entering this for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer writing challenge: carnival/fair, slight stalker (but not fully), and I bolded the dialogue prompt that I used.

Steve didn’t feel like he could breathe easily, but he did feel like he could breathe here. Nothing like New York or DC. A place small enough not to be noticed but big enough to blend in without drawing attention as a stranger.

Being invisible somewhere had been easier than carving out the opportunity to do so solo over the 4th of July – less because it was America’s Birthday and more because it was his. Steve had suggested Wanda finally reconnect with Vision (they’d been on the run long enough, it should be safe for her to reach out and discreetly stay off the grid). The case he made to Sam was that he’d been on the run for over a year, and the 4th was less expected for a sentimental return to stop in on family but would still afford a holiday’s community celebrations and to give him reasonable cover to slip in and out. Nat hadn’t needed convincing. She saw, asked if he was sure, but understood without him needing to explain, and said she had things of her own that she’d take care of.

He just didn’t want any of the fuss of them trying to make him feel better on his birthday.

Steve was sitting on a shaded grassy knoll in the city park, hundreds of people around him, all weaving in and out of booths with games, vendors, and food, a vibrant temporary set up for a few days around the 4th, and on the far side of the park the sounds of carnival rides underscored it all.

He hadn’t come to this place to find someone.

But the moment he first noticed you, the plans started forming in his head before he could stop them.

And why should he stop them?

As he alternated between sketching in his notebook and people-watching, people watching turned into watching only you – you wandering this place clearly alone. Must be on your own in this city.

It would be so easy to harmlessly bump into you.

So he did.

When you recognized him, he could easily use the moment to draw you into keeping his presence in such a public place secret, getting you to trust him by him “trusting you” with his secret.

And he did.

He could easily ask if there were any good places to eat in town, then ask if you would join him.

He did, and you did.

After walking you home, it would be so easy to get you to invite him in, an afternoon and evening of conversation, compounding moments, and more and more casual touches on your arm, your shoulder, the small of your back, the back of your hand, having your body attune to him.

And it worked.

You hesitated, but invite him in you did.

And he tried for a moment to convince himself that being invited in had been all he wanted – to be someplace that wasn’t a stolen moment or a hotel room or a safe house that itself wasn’t very safe, just to be someplace private, someplace normal, someplace that felt like home.

But that was not the only thing he wanted.

And why shouldn’t he take the rest of what he wanted? After everything, didn’t he deserve it?

You didn’t notice that he locked the door behind him. You’d been apologizing for the state of your place, though after a quick glance around, he assured you it only looked lived in, not a mess.

Not like the mess he was so eager to make you into beneath him.

After insisting you didn’t need to get anything for him, he sat on your couch. He told you how nice it was just to sit there, nowhere to be, no reason to hide, how tired he was of running. You listened; you soothed him. He leaned in and kissed you.

You kissed him back.

All he did was kiss you until you leaned back on the couch and urged him along with you.

He let his chest press into your deliciously soft body. He groaned into the kiss, and you opened your mouth to his. This kisss grew in fervor, tongues exploring and tangling with each other. His hand ran up and down your thigh, slowly coaxing you to hitch it up around his waist. You moaned when he ground gently against your core – gentle only to test the waters. His need was mounting exponentially, and he knew the damn would break soon. He intended to let it.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your shoulder, kissing there before teasing his lips and teeth and tongue along your collar bone to the sensitive point of your neck. You sighed in bliss, and he moved his hand back up your thigh, over your hip, across your stomach, undid the top button he found there, and started to reach into your jeans.

Your breath hitched, and your hands flew to his.

“Steve, wait,” you said.

But you didn’t say stop.

He waited.

He could hear the wild racing of your heart beneath him.

The pressure of your hands on his body didn’t change, no part of you shifted to move away. Your eyes closed, the only sign of your reticence were your teeth worrying your bottom lip.

Steve slid his hand down to cup your pussy and his fingers found the wetness growing there that he expected. You let out a shuddering breath as his fingers worked your labia, but he didn’t linger there. He pulled his fingers out and then pushed them into your mouth.

“Neither of us wants to wait,” he snarled as you licked your slick from the pads of his fingers. “And it’s summer, we’re supposed to be having fun.”

Super soldier serum running through his veins, Steve picked you up with ease, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist, while he held one of your thighs and pressed his other hand at the base of your spine, pinning you securely to him while he captured your lips to kiss you again.

He easily found your bedroom, and he lowered you to the bed in a kneeling position. He didn’t relent in his kissing, devouring you, demanding your supplication. He only broke off the kiss once you were breathless, moaning, and pulling at his clothes. Then he stepped back and told you to undress. Steve quicky removed all his own clothing while keeping his eyes on you. You only removed your shirt and jeans, leaving you in your underwear, but he could work with that for now. He’d have you willing to shed the rest soon enough.

Steve got up on the bed with you, pleased that he could see your eyes darkening with the lust and the want. He recognized exactly the kind of want he was dealing with – it was how he imagined he would have behaved before living the harsh life of denial he’d lived while exiled and on the run for the past year. The old him would have wanted but been hesitant, gone slow, paid attention to more of the dance before even getting into bed.

He didn’t have the luxury of time or the patience for that.

He only had an insatiable need that he’d pushed down and ignored – ignored for years even before becoming Nomad. He’d denied himself so many things, sacrificed for others, for missions, too many legitimate and imagined reasons holding him back.

He wouldn’t hold back now.

But he would coax you into needing him as much as he needed you.

You only glanced at his naked groin with a moment of hesitance as he pulled you into his lap, but you still let him. He resumed your kissing, and you were quick to continue making out with him. He allowed you take the reins to steer the kissing, letting you lap up at the pace you wanted. He let his hands roam over your back as he eased you along, seemingly unhurried. But his hands soon made their way to your hips, and he secured his grip there and began grinding you down against his hard cock. He moaned unabashedly into your mouth as he adjusted the angle of your hips and continued rocking your core against him.

He was insistent on torturing you where your most intimate parts met until, clinging to his shoulders, you threw your head back, gasped for air.

“Steve,” you keened his name, clearly in the early stages of sweet ruin that he wanted.

He smirked against your neck and laid you down on your back with deceptive sweetness. He kissed slowly down your chest, between your breasts, down over your belly button. His fingers hooked into the top of your panties just as his lips arrived at the top of that fabric, and he peeled them down and fully off your legs. Your fingers worked anxiously over the sheets beneath you as he made you wait for him to touch you more.

His hands opened your legs back up, pushing at your knees to splay you open like a butterfly beneath his attention.

He worked both of his thumbs up and down over your labia, smearing your cunt with your juices, studying what he was about to claim and ruin. Then he looked up at your face and said, “This is mine now, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” your voice was soft, nervous, but also eager.

It hadn’t actually been a question, but he wanted you to say it out loud.

The only question was how he wanted to take you first.

Since he planned on taking you in every way, he went with the most convenient first, easing his cock into you slowly, but with no apologies for how thick he was, pressing into you despite the resistance – not that of a virgin, but of a cunt that had never taken a cock so big before. You cried out – but he knew the tone of it was pain drenched with bliss, he could hear it. What’s more, when he was fully sheathed inside you, he waited, unmoving. He watched your chest rise and fall with a few breaths. When you finally shifted your hips against his, he knew he had won. You wanted more. The beast inside of him surged in satisfaction, and then he began to aggressively thrust in and out of your tight channel.

He leaned forward, and your knees hitched up around his waist to urge him on. You clawed at his back, and when he reached between your bodies and found your swollen clit, he rubbed furious circles over it until he was rewarded with the clenching of your cunt around him, the seizing up of every muscle in your body, as he delivered your first orgasm of the night.

He continued pumping in and out of your spasming cunt until he was right at the edge, then pulled out and fisted his cock with only two more strokes before releasing hot ribbons of cum over your stomach.

Your fingers inched hesitantly toward the mess, and he put his hand over yours and pushed your fingers and his through the mess, pressing it into your skin. Then he moved your hands away and lowered his body down onto yours, the sticky spend between your skin and his there.

“I…” you started, but then paused.

He slipped his other hand beneath your head, cradling it in his palm. “Mmm?” he hummed against the spot behind your ear.

“I’m clean and have an IUD.”

He groaned and nipped at your neck. “You want me to continue to fuck you more. You want me to cum inside you.”

“Yes, Steve,” you simpered.

“Mmm, such a good girl,” he pressed a hot kiss against your neck, then rolled off being on top of you, and to his side next to you. “Best give you what we both want, then,” he said as he turned you onto your side, back pressed to his chest, and felt below to press his dick into your hole again.

Hours later when its far past midnight, you’ve passed out from exhaustion.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

But when he slipped back onto your bed after taking a piss, you scooted your body in next to him, put your hand on his chest, and muttered the sleepiest, “Happy birthday,” to him he’d ever heard. He almost wondered how you knew switching from the third to the fourth meant it was his day, but then he remembered the time when seemingly everyone knew it was Cap’s birthday.

While he wasn’t Cap anymore, it still struck something in him and made his chest warm.

But he didn’t feel like you would make a big deal out of it or make him feel bad and that maybe it would be nice to be with someone on his birthday, so he decided to stay. He told himself it was to be distracted chasing more bliss with your body. He ignored the other thoughts working through his mind. He only wanted – only needed – the distraction. Nothing else.

NEXT: July 4, 2017. read more Exiled Nomad Series

I'M GLAD Steve's POV won in the poll I ran earlier this week... clearly since I made the poll my muse was leaning heavy towards it anyway, but this was certainly illuminating to see more of where Steve's head is at in this ... situationship.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[freshxsturniolo]

4th july pt2! - chris sturniolo x fem!reader

pt1 here

“that chris by any chance?” your best friend tara says as she finally jumps into bed. you’re staying the night at jake, johnnies and carringtons place and you’re wrapped tightly under the duvet in their spare room. tara has been running around still with the three boys, but as soon as your phone altered you to that first text, you’d excused yourself.

you smirk as you look at her and she gives you an eyebrow raise.

“i didn’t know you were talking to him like THAT” she says now. “when i saw him spinning you around in the pool i thought nothing of it until i saw his hands on your ass.”

a laugh escapes you, your head sinking into your pillow as tara leans forward to hold your arm, laughing with you.

“i’m serious” she choked out. “i didn’t say a thing to anyone thinking i’d leave you both to it until you started practically fucking in the pool”

“tara!” you squeal. “we weren’t fucking in the pool!”

she laughs, that signature tara yummy laugh, and then rolls her eyes. “okay maybe i was being dramatic there but, jesus, he looks like a good kisser”

you chuckle slightly, “he is.”

“you could have invited him back here ya know, jake wouldn’t have mind. i could have slept somewhere else”

you’re listening but sending across your last text to chris, butterflies in your stomach at the flirting once again that now felt much deeper before shutting your phone off and placing it under your pillow, turning round to face tara.

“he wants to take me for dinner tomorrow”

tara eyes go wide. “oh fuck. wait. so this is more than just -“

she stops as she doesn’t know how to explain it, but you know exactly what she means. yes, for now, this is defiantly more than a one night stand. at least, you secretly hope. his words of being respectful could all be a plot. you might have dinner tomorrow and realise that actually, you’d be better off as friends. but for now, entertaining a thought of something more with chris sturniolo was making you giddy.

“yeah. i think so” you confirm.

tara slaps her head back onto the pillow and looks up at the ceiling.

“you did look cute together, im not gonna lie”

you smile as your mind goes back to the party just a few hours ago. you’re still drunk now, but after you’d got out the pool the drinking slowed down.

you had stayed in the pool for only a short while after, your hair and make up completely ruined yet you didn’t have a care. outfit completely soaked through. but the entire time you couldn’t deattach your lips. it’s like all that flirting and lack of alone time together had bought a force over you that neither of you knew how to stop. but when you realised you were the only two in the pool, you pulled him out. hand in hand.

your friends had noticed by that point, and a few typical claps and cheers erupted from them, which in your drunken state had only made you laugh. as tara had suggested, no one knew you and chris were actually talking as much as you were and you knew everyone around you thought it was just a drunken kiss. but as the night went on and you both changed, jake nice enough to let chris raid his wardrobe for some comfier and none wet clothes, you changing into your overnight clothes you’d already bought, you couldn’t stay away from each other once more.

the party continued on behind you, but you stayed firmly close to chris. he’d thrown on a pair of black ed hardy shorts that jake had no intention of ever wearing and you were in your short pyjama bottoms, and at every single moment from then your skin was touching. it started as sitting back in the circle you left, legs crossed and knees touching. which led to the occasional arm touch as you laughed at each others jokes. that lead to you leaning into him as you got tired, to eventually sitting inbetween his legs, his chest as a back support as he lay his chin atop your head as you spoke to the people around you. his hands around your waist and your hands clasped against his.

when it was time to leave, you made him promise to text when he got home as you walking him to the front door, but it was only second before he was pushing you against the wall. his hands under your jaw as your kiss deepened, and at one point you where sure that actually, scrap the dinner, he was going to end up staying the night or taking you home, before he finally pulled away, a breathless “i’ll see you tomorrow” escaping his lip before he turned to meet his brothers in the car.

you had not felt this way in a long time. had never had a guy treat you like an actual human being and not just someone to get into bed. so yes, tomorrow couldn’t come quick enough. hangover or no hangover, you were excited to spend some time with him.

"do you like him?" tara says now, looking at you, and you give her a smile.

"its too early to say, isn't it?" you ask, and tara rolls her eyes.

"im assuming you agreed to dinner tomorrow?"

"yes"

she laughs. "so yes. you like him. when was the last time you went to dinner with somebody?"

and you're laughing too, because deep down you know that chris might most defiantly become more than just a few dates.

tagged : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss

[hedgehog-moss]

Update on the French protests: we've had a well-known expert in contemporary political history call the situation we're in "the worst democracy crisis France has known since [the end of the 4th Republic]" and meanwhile the government is trying its hardest to maintain a façade of normal functioning by a) hiding from protesters, b) hiding protesters from view, and c) banning saucepans and other means of drawing attention to the protests that are being swept under the rug.

I mean casserolades are an old tradition in this country but they wouldn't have been needed if Macron &co hadn't started almost systematically banning protests in entire districts of the towns they visit and setting up police roadblocks to prevent peaceful protesters from going anywhere near them. (Too bad because these are the kinds of images the media get (these 2 are from Le Monde) when protesters get to talk to Macron <3) :

Protesters corralled away where they can be easily ignored started banging pots and pans so the protest could at least be heard in the background of TV footage, and then pans started being confiscated.

French courts have repeatedly struck down the bans as illegal but police prefects keep churning new bans out every time Macron goes somewhere anyway, trying to publish them at the last minute so there's no time for a judicial review. (I saw a sign at a protest last week that went "Stop with all the bans we no longer have time to disobey all of them")

After boldly banning saucepans by calling them "portable sonorous devices" last week, today a police prefecture banned "festive gatherings of a musical nature" in a town Macron will be visiting tomorrow. They're (ab)using counter-terrorist legislation for all this, so these days we get to read unheard-of court rulings that go like "We are suspending this prefectural decree as we do not consider festive gatherings of a musical nature to pose a significant terrorist threat to the President."

If Macron had people showing up in support I don't think we would see so many pissy protest bans because then the media could show backers vs. opponents and things would look normal (and not like 70% of the country is very pissed off with Macron). But there's not much for them to show if they don't show the angry people banging pans and it clearly rankles Macron—we learnt yesterday that he sent a letter to 200,000 political supporters of his essentially ordering them to start making appearances all over the country, to show they are "proud of what you are and of what our country has become [since I got elected]." That seems a bit desperate.

For months Macron &co have been predicting that people would get tired of taking to the streets in large numbers, and now that people are going like—right, let's try a new strategy, small local protests greeting gov members everywhere they go!—we're hearing a clear "no not like that, that's not what we meant :l " reaction from the government.

They've also been trying the strategy of announcing stuff at the last minute, like on Monday the Minister of Education announced at noon that he would visit a higher learning institution in Lyon 2 hours later, and a hundred of protesters still showed up and tried to force their way into the building. They were held off by cops using tear gas and trying to block entrances (there's a pic that made me smile, showing cops trying to barricade university gates with garbage bins—how the tables have turned...!) and the Minister ended up not showing up and moving on to the next step of his schedule (protesters tried to follow him there but police vans were blocking the street.)

The first half of the video is at the uni in Lyon; the second half is in Paris later that day. When he returned to Paris the Minister was greeted by protesters with saucepans at the train station, it's like a national relay race of protesting at times. He had to go back through the train to leave via the other end of the platform under police escort so as not to meet any protesters (god forbid).

Macron commented that this was "uncivic" behaviour and I agree, civic behaviour on the part of gov members would be to at least face the people they choose to fuck over, instead of hiding behind cops and fleeing. Obviously Macron was condemning the 'uncivic' protesters though, and the Minister said he felt "physically threatened" by the "violence of [the protesters'] speech" which is a shit thing to say considering on the same day that he was mildly inconvenienced by having to take a different exit and felt physically endangered by words, yet another protester was mutilated after being shot at by police with a rubber bullet. Not a peep about this incident (or previous ones) from the government. The Minister of Education never even condemned that time high schoolers trying to protest got tear gassed and threatened with riot guns by cops in front of their school earlier this month.

But while people continue protesting despite the actual violence from cops, our ministers are looking pretty scared of citizens banging pots and pans. Here's a list of official visits that got cancelled "for safety reasons" (saucepan terrorism) in the past week:

1. Minister P. NDiaye cancelled a visit in Lyon 2. Minister F. Braun cancelled a visit to Evrard Hospital 3. Minister Delegate O. Klein cancelled a visit in Bobigny 4. Minister Delegate O. Grégoire cancelled a visit in La Baule 5. Minister S. Guerini cancelled a visit in Castelnau 6. Secretary of State B. Couillard cancelled a visit in Rochefort 7. Minister S. Retailleau cancelled a visit to the Paris Saclay University (electricity trade unionists cut the power in the building she was supposed to inaugurate, so) 8. Minister C. Grandjean cancelled a visit in Toulouse (this article says it was probably because the visit was quite near a big highway protest where protesters among other things were building a concrete wall on a national road)

In the same bullshitting vein as "portable sonorous devices", gov spokespeople have been insisting that visits aren't being cancelled, ministers are just "adjusting the course of their trips" which is funny to me. I guess we never beheaded any royalty we just adjusted the course of their necks. I also read a newspaper article that made me laugh, that went like "Minister cancels visit; trade unions disappointed" and I thought it was because the cancelled visit was a meeting with the unions which they wouldn't get to have, but the article said it was actually because they had a good protest planned and wouldn't get to hold it...

Watching protesters mess with the government in small ways on a daily basis has been good for morale—on Twitter the hashtags #IntervillesMacron and #IntervillesduZbeul popped up (zbeul = chaos, mess, and Intervilles was a TV game show that aired for over 50 years, where French cities competed against one another in goofy challenges). I only mentioned cancellations above, but fun things also happen on non-cancelled government visits, like a Minister having to leave a building via the emergency exit because of protesters blocking the building entrance (which some people argued is worth more points than a cancellation as it's more entertaining):

Various websites were created to keep track of all these smaller protests and to officialise the point system that ranks cities on their efforts to fuck with the government:

(the first symbol means a protest, the second means a casserolade, the last one means protesters managed to get inside a building where a visit was taking place)

(Translation: Ruckus (saucepans, heckling...) 1pt Protest: 1pt Creative action (chasing minister in the woods, etc): 2pts Measures of energy conservation (= power cuts by unions) 3pts Action that leads to a political figure fleeing: 4pts Cancellation of a visit: 5pts — then there's a weighting system where the score is multiplied by 3 if it's a Minister, by 5 if it's the Prime Minister, by 6 if it's Macron.) (I also saw an interesting debate on Twitter this week—since our leaders often embarrass themselves, how should the government's own goals fit into the point system?)

Right now the Hérault department is winning because on top of protests, power cuts and casserolades, protesters greeted Macron with a giant "MACRON FUCK OFF" sign hung from a cliff (!) and took over a highway display so it'd say "Welcome to [region] Butthole Ist"

These past few days I've been discovering unknown French cities (and Ministers) thanks to them showing up in the hashtag after a good protest. I discovered a mediaeval castle I'd never heard of when unions hung banners featuring our most famous revolutionary dates from the castle's battlements. (Two days later, another protest with eloquent banners in the Musée d'Orsay in Paris:)

People are very creative—last week we heard that protesters got prosecuted for giving Macron the finger and insulting him during one of his official visits (< we are a healthy democracy), so protesters in another region tried a more sarcastic approach, and greeted a deputy from Macron's party at a strawberry fair this week with clapping and confetti and "Thank you for making us work 2 more years, thank you for police repression, thank you!" The deputy beat a hasty retreat. Then said he would file a complaint against the harassment and intimidation he had been subjected to. (The tear gas and riot guns and arrests and protest bans are not intimidation of protesters on the other hand. Or the fact that another deputy from his party recently said on TV that they were "ready for war"... They're ready to wage war, but run and hide when people clang saucepans and throw confetti.)

Anyway. I'm enjoying the fact that they can't even attend a small strawberry fair without getting heckled right now. In one of my first posts about the political crisis in March I wrote something like "How will Macron and his gov have any legitimacy to speak about any issues after this?" and it cheers me up to see a lot of people across the country agree that they have no legitimacy to talk about anything, not even the strawberry harvest.

The next nationwide protest is of course for May 1st, but in the meantime it's been really fun following the smaller protest actions all over the place. Members of government & Macron's party keep making whiny statements along the lines of this is terrorist behaviour, we can't go anywhere, why are people not getting tired of fucking with us and the answer is, because it's really entertaining!

This was the last sentence of a recent Le Monde article about Macron's situation and it has such a sinister, end-of-reign tone:

"I'm moving forward," Macron concluded, on April 20th in the Herault department, while behind his back echoed the sound of saucepans.

[boxbug]

A Canary’s Final Flight

My piece for @trafficzine 4th edition! Get it for free here! 200 pages of excellent art and fics, incredible work from all participants and from the mods especially!! huge shoutout to the mods for real

Process notes under the cut! (I struggled a lot so it's a bit of a novel)

So the entire process was a Ride. I knew when I picked this prompt that I was going to have a hard time, because Jimmy’s final death had been illustrated a billion times over by extremely talented artists. But I had a Vision of the snapshot of the second before the impact, when everything is still but you know what’s about happen. It was very much inspired by the clip of Fog by Jabberwocky, bu the thing is, they have the advantage of all the build up of the fall, and that’s when the trouble started.

This was my first version, and obviously it wasn't working. And I was trying so hard, with so many iterations! Small wings, big wings, no wings, different poses, less backgrounds elements. I'd done compositions were everything seemed peaceful but something is Wrong, but it wasn't working this time.

So instead I focused on what rendering I'd like to do - I tried a painterly approach, for that visceral feeling, but it wasn't working either (but hey, I did keep the red sky, so, progress)

At this point I'd been doing back and forths for weeks and I was just as lost as at the start. Now that's my tip for people who make art of any kind, in situations like that, stop thinking about how you can make the best piece possible, and think about you can have fun with it (because when you aren't it's visible). And for that was, 1 - going back to using ink and pen nibs and doing way too detailed inking, and 2- looking at Dave McKean's covers for Sandman (which, funnily enough, was also a reference for my previous trafficzine piece)

And from there I was actually going somewhere! Between the jagged rocks, the red sky, and the increased verticality with the borders, I had hit the vibes I wanted.

I did some experimentation with the border, and even though I really liked the bad boys I drew they were taking too much away from the lonely desolation, so I actually used Red (Unecessary Redstone)'s idea of all of Jimmy's worldy's possessions scattered on the ground post impact, with the idea to make it looks like the central image is his grave being dug.

(and yes for a short amount of time the were supposed to be clock markings on the sun, but there was already enough going with the wings so I scrapped that) (also fun fact the reason why the wings aren't fully material but more ghostly is because my toddler cousin was watching me draw the very first draft and asked why he didn't just use his wings and i went :( so the wings are a metaphor now)

So from there I found a bunch of picture and took some myself, cut and assembled everything together, added shadows in all the appropriate places, and repainted some elements so that everything would look better intergrated (some of the wheats are basically 100% handpainted, the cardboard as well). This took a suprisingly long amount of time, but I was done!

Well I wasn't expecting to have that much to say, but I hope if you're still reading, it was at least interesting!

[blueskrugs]

'tis the damn season | Matthew Tkachuk

today's the unofficial official start to summer, so here's a 4th of July Matty fic I couldn't bear to hold on to for another month. once upon a time, kim @troubatrain wrote another matthew fic by the same title, but i'm fairly confident this is entirely different. as usual, @wyattjohnston was my enabler in writing this.

length: 3.0k words

It’s late when you finally peel yourself off the Adirondack chair you claimed hours ago next to the bonfire, empty seltzer can dangling from your fingertips. The bonfire has died off, barely more than some embers and the occasional spark. Even the fireworks that have been echoing around the lake for days have petered out. It’s just you, Matthew and Taryn left outside, all your other friends having wandered off to find somewhere to sleep—except you think Taryn might have also fallen asleep, wrapped up in one of Matthew’s old Calgary sweatshirts and a beach towel. 

Matthew watches you with heavy eyes, watches as you stretch sleepily and the big T-shirt you’d thrown on over your swimsuit rides up over your hips. 

“Don’t drive home,” Matthew says, so low you barely hear him. 

“What?” you ask. You’re not heading back to the city until after the long weekend is over, and your parents’ lake house is just a couple of miles away. 

“Don’t leave, there’s a lot of drunk idiots out still,” he says again, standing too. You and your friends were some of those drunk idiots earlier in the day, but you don’t point that out. 

“Dude, I’m fine,” you tell Matthew. You turn to look for your flip-flops. “It’s not far, and I stopped drinking a while ago.”

Matthew grabs you by the hip. The night has cooled off, but Matthew’s hand feels hot on your skin. “I’m not worried about you being stupid, I’m worried about something happening to you,” Matthew says. “Don’t go.”

You didn’t pack enough clothes to spend the night—you’d always been planning on heading back to your parents’ at the end of the night. The house was crowded with friends of Matthew and Taryn. 

“There’s nowhere left for me to sleep,” is what you end up saying.

Matthew tightens his grip. You step closer. “Sleep in my bed.”

You’d done it before, but not since before Matthew had moved to Michigan to play for the USNTDP. Not since before your crush on Matthew had shifted from something childish to something more like pining. You stare up at him, his blue eyes serious, clear even in the moonlight. 

One of the logs on the dying bonfire pops and shifts, sending out a spray of sparks. You both startle, moment broken. Matthew takes a half-step back from you. You hadn’t realized how far you’d both leaned in. Taryn stirs somewhere behind you.

“Fine,” you say quietly. “I’ll stay.” 

Matthew grins at you. You shake your head at him as you finally turn to walk inside.

You think you hear Taryn murmur, “Get a room,” as you pass her. 

The lake house is a mess. You survey it with dismay for a moment: there’s people passed out on several different couches, empty cans and bottles scattered across most surfaces, and remnants of dinner still sitting out in the kitchen. You drop your own empty can into the recycling near the door and wander quietly through the first floor, picking up what you can. You haven’t been at it very long when Matthew steps inside as well, gently shutting the door behind him. He clicks his tongue at you when he spots you in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.

“I thought you were going to bed,” he whispers.

“I got distracted,” you whisper back. 

Matthew trails his fingertips across your side as he steps past you to open the fridge. You shiver, and not because the AC is turned down low. Matthew pulls two bottles of Gatorade out, offers one to you. 

You take it, suddenly surprised at how thirsty you are. 

Matthew watches in amusement for a moment as you chug a third of the bottle, before he says, “C’mon, it’s past your bedtime.”

“It’s not that late—” you try to protest, before you catch a glimpse of the time on the microwave clock. Almost 2 AM. “Oops,” you say instead. 

Matthew flicks off the kitchen light and heads upstairs.

You make a pit stop in Taryn’s room on your way down the hall to Matthew’s room. The door creaks as you open it, and you wince, squinting at the bed, where three of Taryn’s field hockey teammates are sleeping. No one moves. You steal a pair of shorts to sleep in and sneak back out. 

Matthew is waiting for you, again, perched on the edge of his bed. The shower in his ensuite is running, steam filtering through the ajar door. “Shower’s ready for you, if you want,” he says.

There’s a bottle of your face wash and a toothbrush with your initials Sharpied onto the handle underneath his sink, the same way they have been since you were 14. You take a fast shower and try not to think too much about it. 

You run into Matthew when you walk out of the bathroom. Literally. You're bumped backwards, into the doorjamb. Matthew doesn’t step away. You’re still wearing one of his T-shirts. 

“I was just—I need—” Matthew stutters. 

“Matty—” you breathe, before Matthew’s lips crash into yours. He tastes like beer and sunscreen, and you wrap your hands around the back of his neck so you can pull him closer. 

Matthew breaks the kiss first, but he doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead to yours. It could have been seconds, or it could have been hours. 

“I was just going to brush my teeth,” Matthew whispers. 

You make a face instead of kissing Matthew again. His face is still so close to yours. 

“Good, you need it,” you whisper back. Matthew rolls his eyes at you, presses a kiss to your forehead before ducking into the bathroom. 

You’re sprawled out in the center of Matthew’s bed when he re-emerges, watching the ceiling fan turn lazily above you. You feel drunk, like the room’s spinning, too, but you think that might just be proximity to Matthew. You should have just found a couch or a corner of floor to sleep on. 

“No way,” Matthew says, standing at the foot of the bed. “Scoot over.” 

You think about pushing it, just to see if Matthew would push back, but you scoot over. Matthew flops onto the bed next to you in the space you just left, then rolls on top of you, anyway, braced with his hands next to your head. 

You take a second to just look at him. You’ve been sneaking glances all day, over the rim of a seltzer can, from underneath your sunglasses, across the boat. It had felt illicit then, but now Matthew is right in front of you, blue eyes meeting yours. His curls are getting long, messy from being in and out of the lake water all day. He’s always tan now—living in Florida all winter does that—but he’s sunburned across his nose and across the tops of shoulders. You lift one hand and skim a finger down his nose, across his jaw.

“I miss you,” you blurt. It’s not what you had meant to say, but now that you’ve said it, you’re not sure what else there is to say.

Matthew laughs softly. “I’m right here, babe,” he says.

He’s here now, but it won’t be long until summer’s over, and he’ll be gone again. Back to the real world. You don’t know the last time you and Matthew were able to spend time together like this, don’t know if you’ll ever get this time again. It’s always been one thing after another—injuries, or vacations, or work. You don't talk the way you used to, either. Matthew's schedule clashes with yours so often that neither of you have time for hours-long phone calls anymore.

Matthew drops to an elbow and brushes your hair out of your face. You try not to sigh. His hand is on your knee next, by his ribs with your feet flat on the bed. You don’t stop him as his hand starts to slide up your thigh, closer to the hem of his T-shirt, riding up your hips again. 

Matthew drags a line of kisses down your neck. You can’t stop your sigh this time. Matthew comes up for air, tucks another strand of hair behind your ear. It’s humid outside and in Matthew’s bed; you can’t breathe, gasp for air. His hand is back on your hip, burning hot on your skin. 

He asks, “Yeah?” 

You can feel his breath on your cheek. He’s panting, too, and it’s nice to know that he’s as wrapped up in this as you are, at least for this moment. That he might want you almost as bad as you want him. That he’s wanted you as long as you’ve wanted him.  

You don’t trust yourself to get any words out, just nod. 

“Think you can stay quiet?” Matthew says, before sealing his lips on yours again. 

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

You wake up late the next morning, the ghost of Matthew’s fingers still on your skin. He’s in bed, too, tangled in the sheets, head turned away from you. Distantly, you hear the sounds of the rest of the house stirring, your friends laughing, coffee brewing. You don’t make any move to get up.

You’re still laying there later—15 minutes, 30 minutes, you’re not sure—when Matthew starts to stir. He rolls over quickly, almost panicked, but he relaxes and smiles when he sees you still lying next to him. 

“Hi,” he says dumbly. He fumbles for his phone, but it’s not beside him. “What time is it?” His words and eyes are still heavy with sleep.

You don't know either; you must have left your phone downstairs last night;. You shrug and stretch. Matthew watches you closely, the way your body moves beneath the sheets. You feel your cheeks flush. 

“Dunno,” you say. Closer to noon than early morning, if you had to guess by the way the light is slanting through the partially closed blinds. “Late,” you add. 

Matthew grins at you and props himself up on one elbow. You have to resist the urge to reach up and tug on his curls, even messier now from your hands and sleep. 

“Then I don’t think anyone will miss us if we stay in bed a little longer,” he says, leaning over to kiss you.

You indulge him and his morning breath for a few moments. Wrapped up in your own little bubble, twisted together in Matthew’s sheets, you can pretend just a little longer—that this is real, that it won’t disappear the second you step through that doorway and back into a world where other people and other obligations exist. But then your stomach rumbles and shatters your illusion.

You push Matthew away by the shoulders—gently, though part of you wants to be harsh with him, hurt him the way you know he’s going to break your heart. Matthew goes easily, but you see the flash of furrowed brow before he smooths his expression back into something easygoing. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” you say, “but I need something to eat.” 

Matthew raises his eyebrows at you. “I’ve got an idea of what I want to eat,” he leers. 

You knee him in the chest in retaliation.

“Oof,” Matthew complains, but he’s laughing. 

He rolls off of you, rubbing his chest and pouting at you. You just roll your eyes and slide out of bed. You hunt the floor for the shorts you’d been wearing when you went to bed, trying to ignore the way you can feel Matthew staring at your ass. Your shorts ended up across the room, by the bathroom door. When you turn around again, Matthew is pulling on a shirt. There’s a hickey on his collarbone that you hazily remember leaving there. He sees you looking as his bare skin disappears and smirks at you before throwing another clean shirt of his at your face. 

You grab the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, but say, “Turn around.”

Matthew gapes at you. “It’s nothing I didn’t see last night,” he tells you. 

It feels different in the daylight, though. You stare Matthew down until he heaves a sigh and turns his back. 

You poke Matthew in the ribs when you’ve finished changing. It didn’t go unnoticed by you that Matthew gave you a shirt with his number stamped on the left shoulder to wear. Matthew reaches to take your hand as you start down the stairs, but you pull away and run ahead of him.

This isn’t like that. 

“Oh, you’re both alive,” Taryn calls when she sees you. “We were thinking about sending someone up to check on you.” 

You and Matthew exchange a look. You don’t miss Taryn smirking from her spot on the couch. 

“Where is everybody?” Matthew says, instead of saying anything to give Taryn any more ammunition. The house has quieted down. There’s still a few of Taryn’s teammates lounging around, but it looks like more of Matthew’s friends have cleared out.

“Weather’s shitty, people started leaving after breakfast,” she says. 

Outside the windows that overlook the lake, there’s fog clinging to the water. It looks chilly out, and you shiver. You tell yourself it’s because of the cold, and not because Matthew is standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat. He nudges your elbow, and he’s holding a cup of coffee out to you, already the perfect color for you to drink it. You shoot him a grateful smile as you take it; your fingers brush, and you try not to jerk your hand away. 

“Nobody even said good-bye,” Matthew gripes.

You laugh, but it’s Taryn who says: “Maybe because you’re a shit host.”

Matthew gasps in outrage and throws a discarded can koozie at her. It falls weakly to the floor halfway to the couch, and all of you burst out laughing. You and Matthew move easily around each other in the kitchen, piecing together leftovers and assembling your breakfasts. It sends a pang through your chest, the familiarity of it, even as the years and distance build a canyon between your relationship. You don’t know when Matthew went from being your best friend, to the boy you dreamed of marrying one day, to the guy you knew so well yet barely knew at all. 

You feel like you can’t breathe.

“That’s disgusting,” you say, watching Matthew take a bite out of a cold bratwurst straight from the fridge.

Matthew shrugs. “What?” he says with his mouth full. “It’s a sausage, people eat sausage for breakfast all the time!” 

“But not—oh, fuck you, never mind,” you say. 

You escape the kitchen, slipping through the back door to the porch. The bonfire from last night has long since burned out entirely, but you drop into one of the chairs beside it anyway, where you eat your breakfast undisturbed. When your plate is cleared, you wander down to the dock.

The late morning sun has finally started to burn away the fog, but the air is still cool. You sit down on the edge of the dock and let your feet dangle in the water. It’s quiet, especially for the day after the holiday; the weather has scared people indoors. You shiver again. You only have a few minutes of peace before you hear footsteps behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know that they belong to Matthew.

He drops down onto the dock behind you, drapes his legs off the edge on either side of yours. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you let yourself lean back into his chest. Neither of you speak.

You’d been here once before, sitting on this dock with Matthew. You were younger then. Matthew had just been drafted, and you were heading off to college. You’d both been on the verge of something big, and you thought maybe it had been your chance to do big things, together. You wonder if Matthew is thinking of that night, too, of the silence in the darkness of midnight, when you’d both slipped away.

Matthew presses his lips to your shoulder, where the collar of your shirt—his shirt—has slid down and exposes your bare skin. 

“Would you wait for me?” you asked, 18 years old and so, so scared of losing everything you had ever known. Desperately trying to hold onto Matthew.

“Would you?” he asked back. “Would you still be ready for me in another few years?” You both knew you couldn’t even imagine following Matthew to Calgary until you had graduated, unwilling to sacrifice your own future for a possible one with Matthew.

You had waited. You had been waiting for Matthew for even longer than you were willing to admit. Even when you were in other relationships, you felt like you were just waiting for something else. For someone else. You wondered now what your life would look like if you had said yes to Matthew on the dark dock all those summers ago, if you’d waited for each other. You couldn’t wait any longer. 

“You could stay for a few more days,” Matthew says. 

“You know I can’t,” you say. You reach back so you can run your hand through his hair. One last time. “Think we could do this again sometime?” Matthew asks. “You know we can’t,” you say. Matthew sighs. You can feel the tension in his body. He’s ready for a fight, but you don’t know if you have the energy for it. You lean more of your weight against him, and he holds you up, strong and steady.

Matthew takes a moment before he responds. “We could,” he argues. “We could do this forever.” Your heart hurts. You know he doesn't mean it.

“Matthew,” you say, quietly. “Matthew, please.” “Why not?” he asks. “We’re good together, aren’t we?”

You are, and you wish you didn’t know just how good it could be between you. In your head, you see all the things you could have, all the things you should have done. It’s so, so tempting. 

“I think we both know why we didn’t try ‘us’ when we were 18, Matty,” you tell him. The petty arguments, the way you were both so stubborn that hanging out ended in slamming doors just as often as it didn't. You always came back, but you don't know if you can do it much longer.

You move to leave, and Matthew slides back to allow it. You let him offer you a hand as you stand up. Matthew squeezes your hand once, quickly, just before you let go. You leave him sitting on the dock. You don’t look back as you make your way back up to the house. 

Some things are best left in the past.

[starrysunbeam]

asteroid sweet (11727)⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍬ɞ˚‧｡⋆

asteroid sweet (11727) represents sweetness, innocent charm, and "cute" energy. when you think of america's sweethearts, they probably have this asteroid somewhere important. marilyn monroe and judy garland both have theirs in their midheaven, for example.

note: you may not resonate with an asteroid's energy unless it's prominent in your chart (ex. conjunct your sun, moon and/or rising). i'm still including a description for each house, so hopefully it resonates for you!

sweet in the 1st house ~

no matter how old you are, you have a youthful glow about you. you also have a welcome presence, so you get along with most people. people might get protective over you because of how pure you are, like an apple not meant to be poisoned. you’re very precious.

sweet in the 2nd house ~

people might like to treat you because they just feel that you deserve it! you also like to treat yourself, and do a lot of self-care. scent and taste are important to you, you want to smell good and definitely have a sweet tooth.

sweet in the 3rd house ~

well aren't you a sweet talker? you can get out of a lot just because of your endearing nature. if you have siblings, maybe you were the favored child, or your parents always believed you over others. if you like to sing, your voice may sound almost childlike, kind of like beabadoobee.

sweet in the 4th house ~

your family most likely doted over you as you grew up. this placement reminds me of someone who'd want a cute vintage home, maybe a victorian cottage. perhaps you like gifting homemade baked goods to loved ones.

sweet in the 5th house ~

you probably like the cutecore aesthetic and colors like pink and peach. you remind me of someone who’d like sanrio, strawberry shortcake, things like that. you probably experience baby fever often (or puppy/kitten fever).

sweet in the 6th house ~

you have a soft, kind approach when it comes to taking care of others. you might prefer sweet to savory in your diet. gratitude is a healing practice for you.

sweet in the 7th house ~

you love to be around people who you deem as sweet. you’re drawn to more feminine, lighthearted energy. you show your sweet side more in your relationships than on a normal basis.

sweet in the 8th house ~

when you act all cute and sweet, it turns people on. it’s giving pillow princess vibes. you might not always feel like you can personify this energy a lot, but it comes out in your intimate relationships.

sweet in the 9th house ~

you probably think young people have the best view on the world, full of possibilities and kind of guarded from the harsher realities. the world is like an ice cream shop and you have yet to try all the flavors!

sweet in the 10th house ~

america’s sweetheart energy. your charm is effortless. you might get frustrated at times because people treat you younger than you are, or act like you’re inexperienced, especially at work. i imagine you’d be the good face of a company, whether a ceo or receptionist or model, because no one can deny that smile.

sweet in the 11th house ~

you remind me of the kind of person who’d befriend the outcast at school, you’re just really nice. it’s not that you take pity, you just see the good in everyone. you might be involved in charity or volunteer work.

sweet in the 12th house ~

you might feel like your kindness has been weaponized too many times, so your patience with people has run thin. since the 12th house can indicate hidden enemies, be wary of those who are sweet to your face but something else behind your back. you need to be gentle with yourself, healing your inner child is of importance here.

[madelynraemunson]

[GIGGLING DERANGEDLY] ask and you shall receive...

ex husband!eddie masterlist

ex-husband!baby daddy!eddie x fem!reader

just a bunch of random blurbs about our fave ex-husband 🫶🏼 | 18+

𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘: two thick-skulled, high school sweethearts who wanted to ‘defy the odds’. but in a world of bills, kids, miscommunication, and thinking the grass is greener somewhere else, sometimes love just isn’t enough. eddie made a mistake thinking you’d always be there at the end of the day — and that’s something he has to live with for the rest of his life.

sundress season (smut)

dropping the kids off at eddie’s while wearing a very flattering sundress

ex-husband eddie headcannons part 1

i won't stop at nothing to see you (so i started running)

your car breaks down and you call the first person on speed dial to come help; fluff and angst | WC: ~950 words

eddie & reader constantly sabotaging each other’s love lives because they’re still in love your honor

4th of july with eddie and the kids (headcannon)

munsons don’t start fights, they end them

you and ex-husband!eddie get called into hawkins middle school because your daughter punched somebody. | WC: 419 words

& MORE COMING 🤍

tagging peeps who seemed interested in this lil universe 🫶🏼 as always thank you for reading ✨

@highinmiamiii @potatobeans99 @mediocredreams @joshlmbrt @eddiesxangel @enam3l @mmunson86 @davidblowies-blog @thatissonnina @oskea93 @aurora-austen @lesservillain @madeofmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munsonssweets @nailbatanddungeon @swiss-mrs @winchester-angel @belokhvostikova @curlyjoequinn @strangereads @marrowfrog00 @shadyunknowncreation @tuolcaniacoc @catherinnn @prestinalove @pleuviors @cinemabean @calumfmu @littlexdeaths @let-the-music-take-c0ntrol @meetmeatyourworst @b-irock @spencerssatchel @yes2476 @comeonatmebruh @bendoverncry @only4wakingup @wiltinglovers @sweetsweetjellybean @fromasgardandback

[arisewanekosuki]

TLH -What if-: What are you? (Abyss Prince! Aether x Fem!Reader x Dainsleif)

This time short story of What if Lumine was your traveling companion. Also happy 4th anniversary to Genshin Impact!🎉🥳 Thank you Hoyo for all cute and handsome boys hehe

---------

It was supposed to be a normal day in your travels with Lumine and Paimon. It started with a commission where someone asked your group to go deep into the domain and retrieve some relic. 

-”Still not there… m-maybe let’s go back? Paimon has a bad feeling about this place.” Paimon was looking around, worrying that something would jump out at any moment. -”Don’t worry Paimon! With Lumine here, there is nothing to fear! And if things really go bad I will teleport us immediately!” You took the little girl's hand in yours to reassure her. -”So far we haven't even met any enemies so I don’t think there is anything to worry about.” said Lumine, looking around. -”Yeah!! and this is not normal!!” shouted the white haired girl. “Normally there would be some hilichurs!! Even the guy who commissioned us, didn't he say this place was full of monsters?! So where they are–” then your group heard something hitting the floor. Paimon screamed and held onto your head, slightly pulling off your hair. -”Ouch! Ouch-! Paimon! That hurts!” You shouted trying to take the little girl’s hands from your hair. Lumine meanwhile took her sword out, ready to fight whatever it was coming from another room. -”You should try to not be that loud in this place, The Abyss Order is hiding somewhere.” you heard a male voice coming from the room. -”Dainsleif?!” you and Paimon said in unison. Lumine let breath of relive, hiding her sword. -”Didn’t expect to meet you here.” She said coming closer to the tall man. -”The same goes for your group. Why are you all here?” -”We got a commission to find some relic!” you smiled, joining two blond people.  -”I see.” he looked at you and then at Lumine “I think for now you should leave, I’m not even sure what Abyss Order is planning to do here.” You and Lumine looked at each other and in unison said -”No way! We will help you!!” After seeing your both determined faces, Dainslef only sighed -”Alright, then let’s go. I can feel Abyssal power not far from here. And with that your group started to go deeper into the domain. You cam closer to Paimon and whispered -”See? There were no monsters because Dain took care of them! There is nothing to worry about!” Paimon crossed her arms, not really sure if there is really nothing to worry about.

At some point you reached the room where two Abyss Heralds appeared. Lumine and Dain started to fight them, while you and Paimon hid to not be a burden to them while they fought. But at some point both Abyss Heralds started to run towards another room. -”Don’t let them escape!” shouted the male, running after them. Lumine followed close after him. You and Paimon start to go after them as well when Paimon noticed something -”The doors are closing!! (Y/n) hurry!!” You ran as fast as you could but then you were stopped. It was like your feets got glued to the floor. -”Paimon!!” you shouted after the girl to grab her attention. Trying to move you noticed something dark around your legs. “I can’t move!” Paimon turned around wanting to fly back to you but then the doors closed in front of her face, leaving you alone in this place. You fell to the floor, nothing holding you in place anymore. You got up and run towards doors, hitting them. -”Paimon? Lumine? Dain? Can anyone hear me?!” you shouted, after moment of silence you head Paimon’s voice. -”(Y/n) I’m here but I can’t open the door from here!!” What should I do?! Lumine and Dain went further!” -”Just go after them! I will just wait here till you all will be back!” -”A-are you sure? What if something comes to you??” -”Don’t worry!” you turned around noticing that the way your group came in was blocked too. “All exits are closed, I think I should be fine for now!” There was silence for a moment, you thought she already left but then you heard. -”J-just stay safe okay?” You smiled. -”Okay.” you said calmly. And then there was silence again.

After some time you sat down on the floor, your back towards the door. “I hope they are alright…” you thought, worrying more about your friends than yourself. You sighed and brought your knees closer to your chest. At some point you couldn’t stand the silence so you started to humm some song. But what you didn’t expect is to suddenly hear someone join you and footsteps getting closer. You looked up and gasped. -”That's an interesting melody but it’s not from this world, is it?” the golden haired boy smiled to you gently. You got up, leaning more at the door. -”Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk." He stood in front of you and there is barely space between both of you. -”Shouldn’t you talk with Lumine?” -”Even if I want to, now it’s not time… So at least I want to learn more about you.” -”I don’t think there is anything interesting you can learn.” you turned your head from him. Wondering what to do. Is he going to hurt you? Should you run? Scream? He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. -”You whole being is interesting. You’re not from this world and yet you’re not someone like me and mine sister. It’s like you’re here and at the same time not. Why is that?” It’s not like you knew the answer to this question. There are some things you too don’t understand or how they work.  -”And this…” he took your hand holding it up so you could see it. “that white thread going towards my sister.” -”...W-what white thread?” you asked and Aether was surprised by your confusion. -”Ah so you can’t see it? Even those other threads that go far away from this domain?” They are not that easy to notice like the one you share with his sister but they are still there. -”I really don’t know what you are talking about…” you replied, even more nervous with him gently holding your hand. Aether was paying attention to your hand and then he noticed it. The served black thread… the same one it was on his hand as well. He was silent, glaring at your hand. This made you worried. Is he going to break it?! But then he closed his eyes and smiled. -”I see…” his expression now being more serious “It’s a shame he won’t give us more time.| -”Him?” But before you could do anything else, Aether grabbed you and jumped away from the door. “Wha-!!?” The doors were destroyed with two slashes, in their ruins stood Dainsleif. Aether still held you close and then whispered to your ear. -”Please take care of my sister.” with that he kissed your forehead and let go of you. -”Wait!” shouted a taller man, running to catch a gold haired boy. But he was too late. The Abyss Prince vanished. You were so confused. In such a short time many things happened. Dainsleif placed his hand on your shoulder. -”Are you alright? Did he do something to you?” you shook your head. -”I’m alright.” you replied, giving him a small smile. He sighed, placing his hand on your head and bringing you closer to him. You face got into his chest making your cheeks feel warm “W-what?!” you were confused by this. Then you heard Lumine shouting your name and her fast footsteps, Dain quickly let go of you and took a step back. -”(Y/n)!!! Are you alright?! Did you get hurt?!” She hugged you and then looked around your body to see if there were any bruises. -”I’m okay!! Nothing happened to me!” -”I’m glad! I’m so sorry I left you behind!” Lumine smiled but when you looked at her she had many bruises around her body. -”But what about you?! What happened?” You started to panic, already searching for food that will help her heal quicker. She only smirked and placed hands on her hips. -You should see the ones I was fighting!” she said in a proud voice. Paimon came holding onto some relic. -”Let’s get out of here! (Y/n) is safe and we got what we were looking for!” Everyone nodded and went towards the exit.

When you left the domain you wanted to talk to Dain about Aether but before you could do it, he already left your group. You pouted. “Why does he always have to leave so fast?!” Both Paimon and Lumine were surprised too that he left without any word. After taking money from the commission you went to the inn to rest. You were laying in bed while Lumine went to take a bath and Paimon went to grab food. You were contemplating whether you should tell Lumine about meeting her brother or not. And not only that, you looked at your both hands. Nothing there attached to them. “Is this ‘connection’ the white thread he spoke off? But then why can he see it and not me?”   You sighed, closing your eyes and laying your hands beside your sides. “It’s not like I will get answers… as an ‘observer’ I should be thankful that my body can be here in this world.”

The miracle happened, so cherish it and enjoy your stay in Teyvat as long as you can.

--- Thank you for reading! 💛

[astroismypassion]

Hi there, I would like to know what are some indicators in a natal chart for where you should live specifically a country, town, or city. As I am getting older, I am thinking of moving out of my family's home and living by myself, and also having a job or career with work and life balance. Yeah, I'm curious where people including myself could live.

Honestly, I think you can't really tell specific city, town with astrology. Maybe more so with astrocartography. But the sign over your 4th house, planets and IC sign actually give a general idea where you would feel comfortable (especially after retirement or in the old age)

ARIES IC/4TH HOUSE

in a hot climate

somewhere sunny

with not a lot of rain

TAURUS IC/4TH HOUSE

sunny weather

somewhere where vegetables, fruits, herbs can grow

probably near a pond, lake, a small body of water that is looking nice

probably near a park, forest or near flowers, botanic garden

GEMINI IC/4TH HOUSE

honestly probably a small city, that is very "compact" (the stores are near, the market is close, the school, workplace is nearby)

around close friends

near a library, maybe even elementary or high school

CANCER IC/4TH HOUSE

just move next door to your family

in your family home where you grew up

near a sea or a place where you can go swimming

near a garden or a barbecue, picnic place

LEO IC/4TH HOUSE

this one is very extreme, either in the city, in the spotlight, where there is cinema, theatre, stores, lots of events or in the countryside, there is no inbetween with this one

VIRGO IC/4TH HOUSE

near your high school, elementary school friends

near your workplace, the company, near your job

near dentist's, a pharmacy, a gym

LIBRA IC/4TH HOUSE

near a bakery,

a restaurant, where there are clothing stores

as near as possible to your partner's home

SCORPIO IC/4TH HOUSE

dude, somewhere in the forest, just away from big crowds and too many people

i noticed from experience they end up living sometimes near a hospital or cemetry

SAGITTARIUS IC/4TH HOUSE

in a different region, state than your home

or a foreign country, but still the same continent

you might like to live in a multicultural, diverse area, you might have an age difference with your neighbours or they could be more or less educated than you

probably in the city as well, unless you are very adventurous, then the countryside

CAPRICORN IC/4TH HOUSE

near your parents

or even grandparents

near your job, workplace

you may live near a care home for elderly

you may also live near the mountains or the terrain has is very rocky, stone could be prominent

could do well in a colder climate

AQUARIUS IC/4TH HOUSE

again, one that does well in a colder climate

probably in the city though, you know where the people and the culture is

because you like busy, lively gatherings

PISCES IC/4TH HOUSE

probably another country or even different continent not gonna lie

you probably don't have much luck in your own hometown, because you're just too different or somewhat "exotic" in comparison

near a lake, sea, pool, even on the road, like in a van, camper

[tavolgisvist]

Chris Charlesworth, Paul's interview for Melody Maker and John's furious letter to Paul published in Melody Maker

I know, it's long read, sorry, but I need to figure out when all got wrong, because - just look:

John’s John. John wants to wipe everything away and start again, but in doing so he never wipes anything away. He wants it to be him and Yoko against the world, or whatever, but he`s still in with all the others, in with all the contracts and going into the meetings and everything.“He’s getting pissed off with it though – I sense it. I’ve had a couple of good conversations recently with just John, and I’ve felt a lot of common ground with him.* And I watched him on the Parkinson show, and really a lot of the things he’s into, we’re into as well.”

(Paul McCartney, Nov 1971, interview with Steve Peacock for Sounds)

*after John’s ‘Imagine’ with HDYS but befor John's letter to Paul in Melody Maker

There’s no hard feelings or anything, but you just don’t hang around with your ex-wife. We’ve completely finished. ’Cos, you know, I’m just not that keen on John after all he’s done. I mean, you can be friendly with someone, and they can shit on you, and you’re just a fool if you keep friends with them. I’m not just going to lie down and let him shit on me again. I think he’s a bit daft, to tell you the truth. I talked to him about the Klein thing, and he’s so misinformed it’s ridiculous.**

(Paul McCartney interviewed by student journalist Ian McNulty for the Hull University Torch, May 1972 [From The McCartney Legacy, Volume 1: 1969 – 1973 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2022)

**after John's letter to Paul in Melody Maker (published 4th Dec 1971)

What happened?

November 11th (or 10th), 1971 Paul says to Chris Charlesworth:

The joke is, though, that we don’t have to do trials. It’s not necessary. If the four Beatles signed a bit of paper, or even ripped the old contract up and said, “This contract is no longer valid, we all hereby said it, we all legally direct the shareholders…” the whole thing, to wind it all up, we could do it. And if that’s really what he wants, he could do it this minute. [snaps fingers] I’d prefer not to ever talk about the Beatles thing again in these kinds of terms, and just get on with what I’m doing. I really would prefer to do that. If they’d let me. It’s really down to them, you know. They don’t think it’s down to them. I think they think it’s down to me, somehow. Like he was saying, you know. But I don’t – I’m sure it isn’t. I’m in the minority, I’m being out-voted. And like I say, if the majority agreed to it, we could do it. See, I said [to them], “Look, the thing is, we’ve got all these advisors and all this sort of stuff. I think what would be good to do is the four of us just get a document – we don’t even have to meet for long, we just get some kind of document – and sit down and say, without even asking Klein, Eastmans, anybody, without saying to anyone, we’ll just write a little thing saying, ‘We hereby split up, and everything’s got to be shared by four,’ and then just lay it out on them. Say, ‘Here, now, sort it out.’” And I was saying that would be good. But John’s saying, “Oh, yeah, but that’s like asking us to stop the bombing in Vietnam.” What do you mean? Don’t put me – don’t call me the bloody American, I’m not the aggressor. That’s what I mean. They think I’m like – ’cause I’ve done the High Court action, ’cause I look like the aggressor, they’re sort of thinking of me in terms of America. But really, I’m Vietnam! I’m the one getting screwed, you know! I mean, they’re – I’m not… you know. We eventually decided we were all Vietnamese. [laughs]

And circa November 20th John reads in Melody Maker:

“I just want the four of us to get together somewhere and sign a piece of paper saying it’s all over, and we want to divide the money four ways.” “No one else would be there, not even Linda or Yoko, or Allen Klein. We’d just sign the paper and hand it to the business people and let them sort it all out. That’s all I want now. But John won’t do it. Everybody thinks I am the aggressor but I’m not you know. I just want out.”

November 11th (or 10th), 1971 Paul says to Chris Charlesworth:

I don’t want to go putting the other three down particularly. That’s – that’s my trouble really. I probably should. I probably should, really, just rant and rave and call them the biggest shits on earth, you know, because they’re certainly not cool, what they’re doing. [pause] But you know. They don’t believe – they don’t think what I’m saying is true. They think that I’m just pulling a fast one. Klein’s told them I’m trying to get control of the company and everything. He keeps saying, “He’s trying to get the song publishing” and all those kind of little red herrings everywhere. But I tell you, I just happen to know that the Eastmans just are… just more moral, than Klein. I mean, really, the reason that turned me on to them is they said they don’t ever sign people. They don’t sign people. They just get paid a fee. They don’t bother with the other fees. Just pay a fee. I just pay them a fee. ‘Cause I don’t like having everything in a sack. I’m not into them for anything. … He [Klein] sort of says, “Why? I’ll buy it for you, and I’ll give it to you.” Well, bloody hell, you know, he wants to get in with the Beatles so bad he’s got to give them big things to show them he’s a good player. But he’s not good enough. He’s not good enough, I don’t think. I don’t think he’s really really got it. I don’t think he’s really got the goods. I think he’s a fantastic talker, he’s a fantastic all of that, you know, and he’s told George and John that he’s got ’em Newsweek and Time. He told me all that, you know. He said, “I’m going to make the Beatles bigger than they’ve ever been.” But all I have to say is as far as I’m concerned, he’s never really come up with it. I mean, I saw him in his Playboy interview, he says, “McCartney said,” “McCartney rang up George…” He’s being careful, he sets the whole thing up in the interview. He says, “McCartney was asked to do the Madison Square Garden in aid of the Pakistani refugees.” [derisive laughter] You know, “pakistani refugees”. “McCartney was asked to do it, and you know what the guy said? He said, ‘Sure, I’ll do it! If you dissolve the partnership.’ What kind of shit is that?” That was Klein’s kind of thing. The main thing was I said to George that the reason I can’t do it is if I come it’s, “The Beatles have got together again.” And it’s the press, and it’s all that [inaudible], and it’s all for [Klein]! And his shares shoot up, and I… go and make him happy, you know. I mean, if I’dve gone, you never know, John might’ve gone, and the Beatles are together again, and for the press and the world that would’ve been your story, you know? So I’ve got to think that. I’m forced to think that way now. But you can say what I would’ve done had it not have been Klein in, you know. I don’t know. I might’ve easily done it. I might’ve done it. The fact of the matter is, Klein was in there, and the reason why I couldn’t do it was ’cause if I go do it, then I’m supporting Klein. Then he’s organising the contract, and all he has to do there is put in a little picture with the Beatles in Billboard next week, you know. But, Allen’s a nice fella, a good talker, and the others really dig him. They really like him. So you can’t say anything bad there, you can’t – you can’t tell them not to. I think I’ve made a mistake, actually, in trying to advise them. Every time I ring up I say, “Look, he’s had a million and a half, and you haven’t got it,” and I think it pisses them off. I think that also – I think they sort of secretly think I might be right, too.

When Let It Be came out, for the first time ever, there was a little bit of hype on the back of the Beatles album, and it said, “A new-phase Beatles album”. And what it really meant was… you know. “The Beatles have split.” But that’s what I object to. “A new-phase Beatles album” is what they put on the back of it. You see, that is to me, that doesn’t really sort of tell – I can’t, I don’t dig it, you know. I see John, and his whole sort of image is very honest and open and all that. And I’m sure, I know he is, you know! LINDA: He believes [Klein]! PAUL: He’s alright, John. But I mean he manoeuvred, and he knows he manoeuvred. He did a whole lot of it. He said in that Rolling Stone article [conducted by Jann Wenner], he manoeuvred all that Klein bit. And I don’t think anyone was really into manoeuvring at that time outside of John and Klein, you know. It was very definitely sort of a manoeuvre. It was done – like I said, “a new-phase Beatles album”, [and then be told to] sign a new contract just after we’ve been told we’re not gonna play together again. I said, “Well, isn’t that a bit silly?” And Klein said, “It doesn’t make any difference. You get a new royalty, if you don’t do any more stuff, you still get more [royalties] than you’ve made ever.” Now what I didn’t realise was yeah, that was all true, but you’d have to sign yourself up again. ... Like I say, I think it’ll just be a whole lot healthier when I do get out. Just for them, too. ‘Cause I don’t like all this stuff, where I’ve got to… Because if I read a thing, whereas I would have read it with some sympathy towards the Beatles and Klein, I can’t any longer. I read it – and I tend to see the other side of it, you know.

And circa November 20th John reads in Melody Maker:

Paul’s bitterness towards Allen Klein is obvious, but his attitude towards the other three Beatles seems more of concern than of dislike. He worries about their affairs but is tired of warning them. They are tired of his warnings, so Paul just wants to get out.

and

…Linda, whose hand is in constant contact with Paul. “He’s talking about money now. That’s one of his pet points. He’ll never stop. Denny and Denny are protesting, but there’s nothing I can do,” she says before I face the action.

and

“I said to George the reason I couldn’t do it was because it would mean that all the world’s press would scream that The Beatles had got back together again and I know that would have made Klein very happy. It would have been a historical event and Klein would have taken the credit. “I didn’t really fancy playing anyway. If it wasn’t for Klein I might have had second thoughts about it but I don’t know, really. Allen’s a good talker. The others really dig him, but I’ve made the mistake of trying to advise them against him and that pissed them off. I think they might secretly feel that I am right though.

November 11th (or 10th), 1971 Paul says to Chris Charlesworth:

Paul: I liked Imagine. Yeah, I think Imagine’s good. I didn’t like the others. CH: You didn’t like the others. Paul: No. Well, I just sort of give them one listen-through and see if there’s anything I can pinch. [pause] [John] says, “You live with straights.” Yeah… so what? What’s so criminal about that? You know, I like straights. I quite like some straight people. I have straight babies! [laughter] But saying to me ‘Yesterday’’s the only thing I’ll ever do, well… you know. That doesn’t bother me. Hey, it’s not bad. If it is the only thing I’ve ever done, then that’ll do me. But it isn’t! And he bloody knows it. It’s not the only ever thing. Because he’s sat here, in this very room, and he’s watched me do takes, and he’s dug it. And he knows it, you know. But he’s trying to sort of wipe it all away. John’s – John’s – you know. John’s John. ’Cause I talked to him, I had a couple of good conversations recently – with only John, really… But I felt common ground with him. I saw him on the Parkinson show, and really most of what he’s saying is what we’re into. What we want. 

And circa November 20th John reads in Melody Maker:

“John and Yoko are not cool in what they’re doing. I saw them on television the other night and thought that what they were saying about what they wanted to do together was basically the same as what Linda and I want to do“. “John’s whole image now is very honest and open. He’s alright is John. I like his ‘Imagine’ album, but I didn’t like the others. ‘Imagine’ is what John is really like, but there was too much political stuff on the other albums. You know, I only really listen to them to see if there is something I can pinch,” he laughs. CH: And how do you sleep? “I think it’s silly. So what if I live with straights? I like straights. I have straight babies. It doesn’t affect him. He says the only thing I did was ‘Yesterday’ and he knows that’s wrong.” Paul motions to the studio below. “I used to sit down there and play and John would watch me from up here and he’d really dig some of the stuff I played to him. He can’t say all I did was ‘Yesterday’ because he knows and I know it’s not true.” ‘Yesterday’, it seems, is a bone of contention with Paul; in fact, all the Beatles classics that he is associated with. He doesn’t own them but feels he ought to.

Why Chris wrote like that? I suppose, it (shit) happened because he was badly biased and unprofessional.

And you know what? November 20th not only Melody Maker publishes Paul's interview. Steve Peacock in Sounds tells very similar story. We can compare - and what we'll see?

Before John said he was leaving The Beatles I was lying in bed at home one night and I thought I would like to get a band together like his Plastic Ono Band. I felt the urge because we had never played live for four years. We all wanted to appear on a stage but not with The Beatles. We couldn’t do it as The Beatles because it would be so big. We’d have to find a million seater hall or something.

(Paul McCartney, November 11th, 1971, interview with Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker) and

The night before John said he was leaving the group and all that, we were at home and it suddenly dawned on me “If everyone else doesnt want to do it, I’ll get my own band, even if it’s just a little country and western thing or something like Johnny Cash, just so I can get in there and have a sing.” Because thats all I wanted, just to play. … Everyone did really, everyone was trying to play, but no one wanted to do it with the Beatles.

(Paul McCartney, Nov 1971, interview with Steve Peacock for Sounds)

‘We hereby split up, and everything’s got to be shared by four,’ and then just lay it out on them. Say, ‘Here, now, sort it out.’” And I was saying that would be good. But John’s saying, “Oh, yeah, but that’s like asking us to stop the bombing in Vietnam.” What do you mean? Don’t put me – don’t call me the bloody American, I’m not the aggressor. That’s what I mean. They think I’m like – ’cause I’ve done the High Court action, ’cause I look like the aggressor, they’re sort of thinking of me in terms of America. But really, I’m Vietnam! I’m the one getting screwed, you know! I mean, they’re – I’m not… you know. We eventually decided we were all Vietnamese. [laughs]

(Paul McCartney, November 11th, 1971, interview with Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker) and

“And John said, “Yeah, but that’s like asking us to stop the bombing in Vietnam.” We eventually decided that we were all Vietnamese, so that’s all right… “But I keep wanting to send him postcards saying ‘The war’s over if you want it’ – tell him what he’s saying. It’s just crazy, I’m sure the truth’s a whole lot more simple than it’s made out.”

(Paul McCartney, Nov 1971, interview with Steve Peacock for Sounds)

John’s – John’s – you know. John’s John. ’Cause I talked to him, I had a couple of good conversations recently – with only John, really… But I felt common ground with him. I saw him on the Parkinson show, and really most of what he’s saying is what we’re into. What we want.

(Paul McCartney, November 11th, 1971, interview with Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker) and

“John’s John. John wants to wipe everything away and start again, but in doing so he never wipes anything away. He wants it to be him and Yoko against the world, or whatever, but he`s still in with all the others, in with all the contracts and going into the meetings and everything. “He’s getting pissed off with it though – I sense it. I’ve had a couple of good conversations recently with just John, and I’ve felt a lot of common ground with him. And I watched him on the Parkinson show, and really a lot of the things he’s into, we’re into as well.”

(Paul McCartney, Nov 1971, interview with Steve Peacock for Sounds)

Paul: I liked Imagine. Yeah, I think Imagine’s good. I didn’t like the others. CH: You didn’t like the others. Paul: No. Well, I just sort of give them one listen-through and see if there’s anything I can pinch.

(Paul McCartney, November 11th, 1971, interview with Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker) and

“I liked ‘Imagine’, I didn’t like the others much. But really, there’s so much political shit on at the moment that I tend to play them through once to see if there’s anything I can pinch.”

(Paul McCartney, Nov 1971, interview with Steve Peacock for Sounds)

“We will start by just turning up at a place we fancy visiting and just playing a straightforward gig. We might use another name to keep it quiet. We have rehearsed and we can play live together. In fact, it sounds quite good. It doesn’t really matter that much. “I don’t want Wings to become a media group, with our signatures on knickers which are sold for promotion. I don’t like that now. I was happy with that situation in The Beatles, but it died in the end. We are starting off as a new band, but if we ever get to be huge like The Beatles it will be very difficult.”

(Paul McCartney, November 11th, 1971, interview with Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker)

and

“With this band, we play good together live because nobody’s too hung up about what he’s playing. We’ll go round to Denny’s house and just sit there playing songs that we half-know. It’s good. “We don’t want to be a media group – we don’t want to go everywhere and plug everything and have knickers with our name on them and all that. That won’t work for me now – it’s all done. It was great while it lasted but it’s over now.” “Yeah, it was great, obviously, and I did enjoy it, loved it, but it got to be a bit tight at the end. It was when we got to be Beatles with a big B that things began to be difficult because even if we wanted to go out and play, how the hell could we do it? We’d have had to have done a big million seater thing, and that’s why I was suggesting them that we all just go away somewhere and play, like I want to do with Wings. Ricky and the Redstreaks at Slough Town Hall or something – and everyone turns up for the Saturday night dance and finds it’s us. “We’re all musicians, and the fun of being a musician is being able to play live to people. For us, it might be a year, it might be two years, or it might be next week. We don’t know, we might not even fancy going live in the end, and if that happens it’s all right too.

(Paul McCartney, Nov 1971, interview with Steve Peacock for Sounds)

My best playing days were at the Cavern lunchtime sessions. We’d go on stage with a cheese roll and a cigarette and we felt we had really something going. The amps used to fuse and we’d stop and sing a Sunblest bread commercial while they were repaired.

(Paul McCartney, November 11th, 1971, interview with Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker) and

My best playing days were at the Cavern, lunchtime sessions, when you’d just go on stage with a cheese roll and a coke and a ciggie, and people would give you a few requests, and you’d sing them in between eating your cheese roll. That was great to me, I think we got something great going in those days – we really got a rapport there, which we never got again with an audience. And if an amp blew up or something, it didn’t matter, because we’d just pick up an acoustic and sing the Sunblest commercial or something – and they’d all join in.

(Paul McCartney, Nov 1971, interview with Steve Peacock for Sounds)

It seems like the same conversation, isn't it? But if it's so, Paul about HDYS said not “I think it’s silly. So what if I live with straights? I like straights. I have straight babies. It doesn’t affect him. He says the only thing I did was ‘Yesterday’ and he knows that’s wrong.” as it tells Chris in Melody Maker. Paul said:

“I think it’s silly. If he was going to do me he could have done me, but he didn’t. That didn’t phase me one bit. ‘You live with straights’. Yeah, so what? Half the f-king world’s straight; I don`t wanna be surrounded by hobnailed boots. I quite like some straight people, I’ve got straight babies. ‘The only thing you did was Yesterday’. That doesn’t bother me. Even if that was the only thing I did, that’s not bad, that’ll do me. But it isn’t, and he bloody knows it isn’t because he’s sat in this very room and watched me do tapes, and he’s dug it.”

(Paul McCartney, Nov 1971, interview with Steve Peacock for Sounds)

And not only this. Look,

Paul: “I thought ‘Go Now’ was fabulous. He came round to see me and brought a guitar and we played some things together and it was great. We just rehearsed a couple of numbers together.” It seems that, within reason, just about everybody plays everything on the album. The drums, naturally enough, are Denny’s main concern, although additional percussion is contributed by all. Paul plays most of the lead guitar – “I’d always fancied myself as a lead guitar” – while Denny plays harmony lead, chords and some bass. Paul too plays bass and mainly the basslines on the album have been overdubbed. Linda plays most of the piano and organ lines. “Linda isn’t very experienced so the keyboard parts tend to be very simple and that is, I think, very valuable. It has an innocence rather like a child’s painting,” said Paul.

(Paul McCartney, November 11th, 1971, interview with Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker)

and

“I play all the lead guitar on the album,” said Paul, “except for a few places where Denny (Laine) and I play in harmony. I fancy myself as a guitarist, see. He did have a solo but I took it off him.” Denny smiled. Linda sings, writes with Paul, and plays a lot of keyboards. “I like what she does. Her style isn’t like that old, hard pro thing that’s got all the technique, but it’s like children’s drawings. That’s not a very good simile, but it’s got what children’s drawings have got… innocence.”

(Paul McCartney, Nov 1971, interview with Steve Peacock for Sounds)

Talk turned to Beatles live shows – or lack of them. “John wanted to do a big thing in Toronto but I didn’t dig that at all. I hear that before he went onstage for that thing he was sick, and that’s just what I didn’t want. Like anybody else, I’d have been nervous because of the Beatle thing.

(Paul McCartney, November 11th, 1971, interview with Chris Charlesworth for Melody Maker)

and

“My best playing days were at the Cavern… That was great to me, I think we got something great going in those days – we really got a rapport there, which we never got again with an audience… … “That was the stage with the Beatles I thought was best, and thats the way Id like to be able to play again – if a few people happen to turn up to a gig then its usually great, but if youre all sitting there like penguins waiting to judge me, then Im going to be nervous, and Im not going to enjoy it. Im not like John, who swallows his nerves in Toronto and be sick just before he goes on – that Im not going to go through thank you. Its not necessary, and if its not necessary, I`m not going to do it.

(Paul McCartney, Nov 1971, interview with Steve Peacock for Sounds)

I might be wrong but the Chris Charlesworth looks like a snake or like immature Mark our Lewisohn who loves to manipulate words for to get the truth as he imagine it. The Chris' truth is 'there was no love lost between Paul and the other three Beatles, especially John' and he pictures it. And his article led John to anger, he wrote the letter - and we all know what happened then.

So, may be he had any reasons to think that? May be he knew Paul and John many years and can see how much their relationship changed?

…I first met Paul on Monday November 8, 1971, at a party to celebrate the launch of his group Wings and their album Wild Life at the Empire Ballroom in London’s Leicester Square. He was wearing a loud check jacket and, like John would do, seemed much smaller in real life than I’d always imagined him to be. He was surrounded by people all night but at some stage in the evening I asked John Entwistle, another guest, to introduce me. I figured that since John was in the same trade he’d know Paul and sure enough he did. We managed to push past everyone and I had a brief chat, the first time I’d ever spoken to a real live Beatle. Me: “Why the Empire Ballroom on a Monday night?” Paul: “Why not?” Linda: “We thought it would be a nice idea to invite a whole lot of our friends to a big party where they could bring their wives.” Paul: “EMI are paying for it.” Me: “When will we hear Wings live?” Paul: “Well, it should be soon now. We want to start in a very small way, maybe do some unadvertised concerts or something.” As I would do two years later with John, I simply requested from Paul a more in-depth interview in the near future, and a session was granted for Wednesday, November 10 at Abbey Road Studios. The interview took place in the control room of Studio Two, the studio where The Beatles had recorded almost all of their songs. I tried not to show it but I was in awe not just of Paul but also my surroundings. Here it was, I remember thinking, that all four of them sat and listened to playbacks of everything from ‘She Loves You’ through Sgt Pepper to Abbey Road. If these walls could speak… Although ostensibly to promote his new band and album, the interview strayed into Beatles-related topics and I certainly came away with the impression that there was no love lost between Paul and the other three Beatles, especially John. This probably explains why my subsequent story in MM was headed “Why Lennon Is Uncool.” <…> This was the only substantial interview I ever did with Paul, although I would encounter him many times again over the years.

(Chris Charlesworth, 2014, 'PAUL McCARTNEY - Here There And Everywhere')

add to this