#mirrsd

[jumpingpuddles]

Aerosmith, The Mamas and The Papas, Metallica, Pink Floyd, Simon and Garfunkel, The Band, The Mamas and The Papas, Sonny & Cher :)

Thank youuuu!

Give me a band/artist and I'll answer a question

Aerosmith - What are your favorite songs?

#1 will always be Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush (I liked it before Stranger Things. I'm very cool 😜)

Some of my many other favourites:

The Chain - Fleetwood Mac

Brothers In Arms - Dire Straits

Layla - Derek & The Dominos

New York Minute - Don Henley

The Mamas and The Papas - What’s the song that have a harmony so good that makes you want to punch something?

Oh god... so many... I'm a SUCKER for harmonies. But the harmonies in Because by The Beatles is just... 😚👌

Metallica - A song that you think everybody should listen to?

Just one, huh? Hmmmmm...

I'm gonna go with Brothers In Arms. It's one of those songs that you have to listen to all the way through before you can turn off whatever you're playing it from.

Pink Floyd - Name your top three songs in any language

The way I'm interpreting this question is "Pick a language and name your top three songs in that language". Swedish would be the obvious one, but I've going with French instead and picking these songs:

Ella, elle l’a - France Gall

Un jour comme un autre - Brigitte Bardot

Hymne A L'Amour - Edith Piaf

Simon and Garfunkel - Your favorite acoustic song?

Probably something by Simon and Garfunkel actually... I'm gonna go with... The Boxer.

The Band - A song that you never get tired of?

The Chain - Fleetwood Mac

Sonny & Cher - A song by an artist with a voice that you love?

Autumn Leaves as sung by Eva Cassidy.

This was a lot of fun! Thank you!

[alouiadina]

Time Travel

To answer the comment made by @mirrsd on my AU's I'd like to discuss post

one idea was: Gale gets sent back in time 66 years instead of dying. When he closed his eyes, instead of having his life flash before his eyes, a guy appears, telling him "I don't have time to explain, but you have to save Bucky." Then, he wakes up Feb. 21, 1940, mind fuzzy, the dream now not as important as he fully processes where he is. His first thought is that his entire life (war, bucky, marge, death) was all just some weird dream. He'd heard about people dreaming pretty realistic things before. The whole "Saving Bucky" thing was just a weird part of his dream. and the man comes into is dreams intermittently, explaining that Bucky just can't die at 45, because that caused something in the future. (there could be a big twist about the real reason Bucky can't die at 45.) The man tells Gale that Bucky was secretly in love with him, but Gale doesn't believe it until he closely watches his friend, then he starts to grow feelings himself. Maybe Harry or Rosie gets sent back too, but later in the story.

The other idea: Gale just randomly wakes up in 1940 after supposedly dying. It takes him a minute to process/accept that he's living his life again, and then makes the decision that he's going to try and make sure that Bucky at least makes it to the 90s. He also grows feeling in this one, after internalizing some of the actions and words that Bucky says/does to him.

For both ideas, Gale tries to save some of the people who dies, but doing so might indirectly cause the death of others like Quinn or Bailey, or sadly, maybe one of the kids. In both of them, guilt consumes Gale, but doesn't know how to put it into words to not sound crazy.

I would love to flesh one or both of them out more, because I would love to see how it goes into after the war, and all of that.

[onyxsboxes]

Hi 🥰 for the fic backstory ask, I'd like to know more about god!Gale!! Where did that come from??? It's such a creative idea! ♥️

Thank you 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰, I can't tell you how much I love this au.

take a deep breath

It started a few weeks ago, when @alienoresimagines posted an incorrect quotes where Bucky used 'Oh my Buck' instead of 'Oh my God'.

It was at the same time as we were brainstorming about the bb/de-aged buckies au with Ali and with all the fluff and sweet little ideas we had came up with, my brain needed an outlet for more angsty idea.

After a few tags/comments, the idea was born and with time turned into a rabbit hole (god!Gale was the perfect outlet for a bit of angst)

And as Ali said: "something about how a god can only exist so long as people believe in him so Gale can only be Gale because John sees him and ahhhhhhhh"

A few HC about god!Gale

(Also tagging @alienoresimagines and @mirrsd because they were interested 🥰)

Gale is a minor god and his domain/representation is selflessness.

He has always been there for humans and living creatures, tending to them over time.

When the Others left the humans after deeming it safe enough to leave them alone, Gale stayed and continued to take care of them.

He has a very lonely and long existence, taking care of others without receiving anything in return.

Then one day, he meets Bucky and things start to change.

Bucky who gave him a new name: Buck. Gale has had many names over the years, but he cherishes 'Buck' more than any of them because it's the first thing Bucky ever gave him 🥰 (maybe Marge was the one to named him Gale 🤔)

All the little gifts Bucky gives Gale: the bike, the radio, his lucky deuce, a ginger beer, the scarf, ... turn out to be sacrifices that feed Gale

AND Bucky even bring believers to Gale because he talks about him all the time.

They don't realize it at first because Bucky doesn't know Gale is a god and Gale hasn't had an offering or sacrifice in years.

And Gale falls in love with him for it a little more every day.

Bucky is his first High Priest in centuries, or even the first (I haven't decided yet)

Because Gale's domain is selflessness, he can't grant better health, victories or wealth like other gods. He can only give parts of himself.

That's why he hasn't had many believers or priests over time, he can't give them much and so they didn't stay 🥺 (think a bit like The God of Arepo)

For an offering/sacrifice to “feed” Gale, it has to be done without expecting something else in return (it has to be selfless) and so few people actually (can) do it.

But all the little offerings/sacrifices Bucky has made for Gale (bike, ...) have allowed him to protect Bucky and keep him alive to a lesser extent. Gale can feel him in his domain.

(Bucky's faith is the most beautiful Gale has ever seen and he could stare at it for days)

(These hc came after I saw a gif of Bucky and Gale in the stalag and angst ensued ⬇)

In the stalag, Bucky doesn't want to be alive and, for the first time, Buck can't bring himself to represent his domain.

He can't let Bucky go, so he keeps asking him for little favors and Bucky is so out of it that he doesn't even realize that.

And since the sacrifices aren't given willingly (Buck asked Bucky to do it), Gale suffers from receiving them, they do Buck more harm than good. But it's also the only way he has to make sure Bucky's alive (this way, he can feel him through his domain). 😭😭😭

Buck cries himself to sleep every night because he can't save his high priest or let him go, and all he's doing is making Bucky suffer.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling about god!Gale 😅 now.

(Don't worry @mirrsd, I'm still trying to figure out a way to give them more time together so they're not separated by John's short lifespan 😉)

[avonne-writes]

@mirrsd hahaha yes, if Bucky tried to entice kitty Gale with strings and such, he’d get a similar result. But if he used his own fingers, Gale would most likely pounce. 😄 I'm not sure about a laser pointer, because he knows what it is. Maybe, if he was feeling playful, he’d indulge Bucky and chase it.

The most cat-looking cat

[cajunroe]

196 for Lipton/Speirs and for 100 Nat/Brad

196. “Let. Her. Go.” | AO3

Marriage isn’t easy. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either full of shit or trying to sell you something.

And for Ronald Speirs, his marriage was a little more complicated. It’s true when they say you can’t help who you fall in love with. So, six years ago, when Speirs moved from Chicago to Boston and walked into the first bodega nearest his apartment, he never suspected he’d meet his future husband…or that his future husband was a mob boss.

Still, as he watches their daughter open her presents on Christmas morning, he can’t help but think it’s all been worth it.

As far as mob bosses go, Lip was relatively tame. The movies get it all wrong. Most mobs are businesses and as such their bosses are businessmen. It just so happens that the businesses they run are through…less regulated or legal means. Still, Lip is a pillar in the community. Everyone knows his name and knows the warm smile they’ll be greeted with when they meet him. He runs several local stores, church every Sunday, sponsors local little leagues, donates to the food banks every week, and even walks Mrs. O’Leary home every night like clockwork. All of this is because he wants to, not because he’s putting up smokescreens. Lip was a good man and Speirs doesn’t know how he even got so lucky and knows he doesn’t deserve the life he’s been given.

He can tell he’s getting self-deprecating and wistful, but the glare that Lip is leveling him with over the top of their daughter’s head.

Oh yeah, there’s that. Despite his inherently good nature, the mob was the mob and Lip didn’t get in his position through smiles and handshakes. Sometimes bad things had to happen to make way for better things. And it was through Lip’s glares and intimidating silence that most of it was achieved and he skyrocketed through the ranks. He’s seen bruises on Lip’s knuckles before and it’s through the insurmountable amount of trust and love he has for Lip that he just kisses them and grabs an ice pack. Lip never used violence unless absolutely necessary and Ron knows that Lip carries those bruises around long after they’ve faded.

“I think Papa’s upset he hasn’t opened anything.”

Ron’s face falls into what Lip likes to call ‘fond and annoyed’ and he hears Lip laughed loudly.

“Why don’t you go get what we made last week after school?” Lip suggests and gathers the mountain of paper left in their daughter’s wake as she skips upstairs to grab the gift.

“You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that?” Ron grumbles as he helps load the wrapping paper into the recycling bag.

Lip looks up quickly and smiles warmly and Ron curses his heart for racing slightly.

“If wasn’t insufferable, you never would’ve married me.”

Ron laughs, “I don’t know, you have other…more redeeming qualities.”

Lip raises his eyebrows, “Like?”

Ron smiles and pulls Lip in by his hips, fitting them together perfectly as they’ve always fit.

He leans in closely, lips tracing along Lip’s jaw until he reaches his left ear.

“Your wallet.”

He laughs as he just narrowly avoid being slapped upside the head by Lip.

“You’re such an asshole.” Lip laughs and settles beside Ron on their couch.

“But you love me?” Ron asks, linking their fingers together.

“I love you.” Lip declares, serious and sincere as he looks into Ron’s eyes.

Lip leans in to kiss Ron…

“Papa! Papa! I have a gift for you!”

Ron’s face scrunches up like it does when he’s denied something he really wants, and Lip laughs again, happy and content.

Ron turns to their daughter with a bright smile though as she bounces up and down with excitement.

“A gift for me?” He asks, voice heightened in only slightly exaggerated excitement.

“Daddy and I made it after school when you went to work!”

“Thank you, Lily!” He pulled their daughter into a bear hug and sat her beside him with a gentle tickle.

“Papa open it!”

Lip had been recording the entire exchange, much to Ron’s amusement. Lip was never without his phone taking pictures and videos like it were his job.

Ron gently takes off the wrapping paper, building the suspense and when he finally sees the gift, his heart feels like it’s going to burst from his chest.

It’s a small popsicle stick frame, colored with markers and glitter, and inside it is Ron’s favorite picture of them.

It was from the last Fourth of July. They’re all on their deck, Lily on Ron’s shoulder, gripping his face to force him to smile while Lip stares at them with pure, unconditional love.

Ron doesn’t realize he’s crying until a drop his the glossy picture.

“Oh no! Papa it’s okay!”

Tiny hands wrapped around his neck in an attempt to comfort him and Ron sniffles before pulling her tightly into his arms.

“I’m okay, sweetheart. I was just so surprised. It’s the best gift I’ve ever received, Lily.” He strokes her hair as he stares at Lip who stares back. It’s a testament to just how in sync they are that Lip neither expects nor asks Ron what he’s thinking.

Lily pulls away much too soon for Ron’s liking and yawns.

“Can I take a nap?”

Lip frowns, “You still have gifts to open, darling.”

“I will open them after a nap.” She demands.

Lip just laughs fondly. God their daughter was so much like Ron sometimes.

“Go grab your blanket and you can sleep on the couch while we make dinner sweetheart.”

She jumps up and runs back to her room.

Lip stands and pulls Ron up off the couch.

“Merry Christmas, Ron.”

Lip kisses him gently and after all these years, Ron’s face still flushes when he’s kissed like that.

“Lip, I ne-.”

“PAPA! DADDY!”

Lily’s screaming has them sprinting to her room.

Lip gets there first with Ron closely behind him, gun in hand.

There. In their home. In their daughter’s room. Stood the lieutenant of the rival mob with a knife to their daughter’s throat.

Ron aims his gun at the man instantly. He doesn’t know him, but he knows Lip does which is the only reason he doesn’t take him out instantly.

Ron’s move from Chicago to Boston wasn’t intentional. Back in Chicago, he was a cop. SWAT. A rising star. Then he accidentally shot a civilian while attempting to prevent a robbery and that was it. It was either leave the force or transfer out and start over again. So, he left. He cashed out his pension and moved to the first city on a random list. Then, he met Lip, fell in love, got married, and adopted Lily. It was all worth it. Ron would rather be a husband and a father than a cop. And now some piece of shit was threatening to take their daughter away from them. Not on his watch.

He knows though, his rage is nothing compared to Lip’s.

They knew something like this was on the brink. Gio, Lip’s rival, had been making moves across town trying to shut Lip out. They were going to amp up security after the holidays, figuring that Gio was a man of honor and wouldn’t make any moves until after the holidays. He guessed wrong and Lip felt like it was all his fault and despite Ron’s expertise and Lip’s own skillset, any wrong move and they could lose their daughter…their world.

Lip makes eye contact with her first, knowing Ron has his gun trained on the skittish intruder.

“Lily, you remember when me, you, and Papa were playing secret spies?”

“HEY! Talk to me here. I’m the one in charge!” The man demands.

Lily, still looking at Lip, tries to nod but the knife against her throat makes her cry out.

The piece of shit holding their daughter hostage was going to die…slowly if Ron had anything to do with it.

“Don’t move sweetie. Remember playing spies. Remember how you save Papa.”

Lip looks into Lily’s eyes to make sure she remembers and understands.

“Don’t try anything,” the man pulls Lily closer to him and further away from her parents, “I’m in charge.”

Ron’s grip tightens, “Let. Her. Go.”

He’s seething and itching to pull the trigger, but knows he can’t, not yet. If it weren’t for the situation at hand, Ron would be insanely turned on at the calm and collected way Lip is handling himself right now.

“Not a chance!” The man screams back. Lily has stopped crying and forced her face to remain cool as steel. Ron’s going to buy her a real goddamn unicorn when this is over, he’s so proud. God their daughter was so much like Lip sometimes.

“You’re in charge, then. What do you want?” Lip asks, hands folding in front of him.

“I know you got a safe in here. Gimme everything in it.”

Lip takes a small step forward, gauging the man’s reaction. The man remains in place and Lip smiles inwardly.

“I do. There’s around half a mil in cash. Is that what you want?” Lip asks, maintaining eye contact with the intruder.

“Yes!” The man nods his head.

“So, you want money. Anything else?” Lip asks gently, taking another small step forward. Ron still has his gun trained on the man.

“Yeah!” The man replies.

Lip raises his eyebrows and stares at the man.

“Well? What else?” He asks and Ron can see that Lip is very steadily losing his cool. Lily is looking between them, waiting for her signal.

“Jewelry. All your jewelry.”

Ron looks to Lip and notices Lip put his left hand behind his back and hold a finger to the middle of his hand.

Lip knows he only has a few moments before the man’s patience runs out. So, he signals Ron on the plan behind his back.

“I just have one question. Did Gio send you?” Lip asks, voice stone cold.

“Course he did. Said you wouldn’t expect it because you’re too soft.”

Lip laughed and started the countdown to Ron behind his back.

He made eye contact with Lily and smiled.

“Airborne.” He speaks and in a split second three things happen.

Lily screams suddenly and jams her foot into her captor’s knee as she slides smoothly out of his grip.

At the same time, Ron aims and shoots clean through the hand holding the blade.

Lip tackles the intruder to the ground and immediately lays into him. Fist after fist connecting to rapidly bruising and bleeding face of the man that came into his home and threatened his family.

“Daddy!” Lily cries.

Lip is panting, fists bloody and sore. The intruder is unconscious, knocked out after the third fist to his face.

Lip wipes his hands on his pants covered with snowmen and now blood.

With Lily in his arms and glued to his neck, Ron grips Lip’s arm and pulls him up and out of the room.

In the warm hallway of their home, the family of three hold onto one another tightly for a long time.

“I’m so sorry. I love you both more than anything. This is my fault.”

Ron kisses Lip roughly to quiet the ramblings that wouldn’t do any of them any good.

Lily moves to hug Lip’s neck and Lip holds her tightly.

“It’s not your fault Daddy. He was the bad spy and we ‘rested him and saved the world.”

Lip smiled against her forehead, counting his blessings that, for now, she was traumatized.

“That’s right, baby girl. And you saved us!” Ron exclaims, eyes shifting from on the unconscious body in the other room to his daughter.

“I always save you!” She claimed.

Lip looked at Ron and kissed him again. He always knew Ron would do anything to keep them safe, but something about seeing him in action made Lip’s heart swell.

He pulled away, Lily still clinging to him.

“Lily, earmuffs, okay?”

She rolls her eyes but puts her hands to her ears anyway.

Ron looks to Lip before he starts on clean up and retaliation.

“I know, Lip. Take a deep breath first. We’re safe. She’s safe. I love you and I’m ready for anything you want. I trust you.”

Lip smiles and kisses Ron again, adrenaline steadily lowering and bringing heavy exhaustion with it and he sends a quick prayer up above for bringing Ron into his life and letting him love and be loved by him.

“I love you so much, Ron.”

Ron kisses him and when he pulls apart, he nods, ready to begin.

“Toye and Luz are closest. We can have them do the transfer of that piece of shit to the warehouse.”

Lip nods, “Lily will be happy to see them as well and that’ll be good for her. I want Martin and Bull to work a rotation schedule for a perimeter around the clock until I deal with Gio.”

Ron nods, “I’ll help. The boys will be itching for the job.”

“And I want Babe and Roe as Lily’s teams. Babe always asks to babysit because I know they’re itching to adopt, so it works out best. Sometimes I think Lily loves them more than us.”

Lip smiles as Lily starts to fall asleep against his chest, once again sending a prayer up above for all that he has. Ron and Lily are family, but so is every man on his crew. All protectors of them and their daughter.

“When are Joe and Web due back?” Lip asks, shifting slightly as Lily officially falls asleep.

“Tomorrow.”

“Good, I want them working intel with Skip, Malark, and Grant. Anyone who knew anyone who knew about this is dead.”

Ron nods in agreement. The silent power and coldness doing nothing to deter his love and admiration for his husband. It’s not uninitiated violence. It’s revenge. Retaliation. And Ron is more than happy to contribute.

“Dick and Nix are going to lose their minds. You know how much they were trying to prevent this war.”

“Well, they may be police chief and commissioner, but they made it clear that they were her godfathers first and foremost. And once they find out, they might kill Gio themselves.”

Ron laughs, “Boston blood thicker than water?”

Lip smiles, “Something like that, smartass.”

Lip kisses Ron again and the intensity in the tenderness of the kiss makes Ron gasp.

“I love you and I’m so goddamn thankful for you every day, Ron. You and Lily are my world. I will stop at nothing to keep you safe.”

Ron grips Lip’s hand tightly.

“I’m telling Father Donovan you took the Lord’s name in vain.”

Lip laughs loudly and Ron’s cheeks warm with love.

Ron pulls his family into his arms, Lily shifting seamlessly to readjust.

“I love you too, Lip. You’ve given me everything I thought I could never have. I will do everything I can to protect you both and everyone else in our family now and down the line.”

Lip jerks his head up, “Down the line?”

Ron smiles, no longer scared to voice his plans for the future, knowing nothing could every scared Lip away.

“After we win the war, I want to adopt again. Lily hasn’t stopped asking for a sibling since her fourth birthday and I know you always wanted a big family. So do I.”

Lip kisses him again.

“We’re gonna need a bigger house.” Lip posits with a sharp smile.

Ron laughs, “Guess we are.”

They’re brought of out their embrace by a groan from the other room.

Ron looks at Lip, both sets of eyes burning with reignited fury.

Lip nods toward the room, “Your turn, officer. I’ll call the men in.”

Ron kisses Lip’s cheek and moves toward the room, rolling up the sleeves of his ugly Christmas sweater.

“Try not to kill him.”

Ron turns to Lip at the doorframe of their daughter’s room and frowns.

“You’re no fun.”

Lip laughs as he heads to their bedroom to lay Lily down and call in his men to lay down the plan for revenge.

Good thing he’d done enough shopping to feed an Army for dinner.

It’s was going to be a long night. A longer war.

But for now, his family was safe. He was loved.

And with Ron and Lily by his side, Lip knew he could survive anything.

send me one of these with a pairing and you get a fic

[alyseofwonderland]

mirrsd replied to your post “If my memory is not bad... Happy Birthday!!!! I hope you have a...”

oooops, I blame the time zones ;) but really, when someone says today I'm like 'means what, 22th, 23th? what time zone are you in????' all in all joys of internet XD Have fun and cake and coffee and very relaxing day :)

its the 23rd!

im on eastern time in the us. so its still the 22nd here. but your make a good point!

[thebrotherhoodelites]

wish, angel, sunlight, sea, wine, satin, opal :) I'm greedy, I know :))))

wish: what are your favourite memories? This is ever changing but at the moment, I like to remember those good moments in high school - emailing everyone some really nice prose of gossip of the day, sending music and photos over bluetooth, talking on msn to all my friends every night. 

angel: what is your dream aesthetic? Sitting on a rooftop somewhere with the one I love, drinking wine and eating chocolates watching the sunset and talking about everything and anything all at once.

sunlight: list five things you find to be beautiful.1| When you’re having a walk in a forest and look at the trees and the sunlight that filters through the foliage as the birds sing.2| When you catch a smile on someone when they’re not looking.3| The moment your favourite song comes onto the radio and your whole face just lights up4| Movies with good cinematography 5| Autumn

sea: what music, art and/or literature brings you peace? Chopin and The Iliad.

wine: talk about something you are looking forward to.My fourth live ice hockey game of this year! This time I’m going with my cousin and we’re going full-on festive mode as it’s going to be a day before Christmas Eve haha.

satin: what never fails to make you happy? Watching Band of Brothers! As soon as I hear that theme song I know I’m in for a good time.

opal: talk about your interests and passions There’s so much! Obviously fandom stuff like: hbo war, DC comics, voltron, overwatch, kpop etc. but also ah I just love writing, drawing, reading especially fics these days I’m reading a good overwatch r76 right now lmao.

Thank you sm and good ;)

[avonne-writes]

@mirrsd Gale was touched by the gift and probably a little shy about it at first. I think John wanted to see him try it out immediately but Gale felt self-conscious, thinking he shouldn't act too cat-like. He shifted and climbed in just to appease John but he climbed out immediately after. That made John unsure if it had been the right idea to make this side table, but some time later, he found kitty Gale curled up inside it, and he knew he did well.

Regarding John's coping methods, I haven't thought about it in detail. Maybe not necessarily coping methods, just things he wouldn’t have done before the war. Showering in scalding hot water, wanting to do the dishes because it means he’s putting his hands in hot water, avoiding a certain street because the fence reminds him of barbed wire, making up excuses to avoid going out if it snows.

John would try to show Gale that it's okay to act in a way that's different from how people usually behave if it makes Gale feel better. It harms no one and it won't make John love him any less.

Kitty Gale and his box

I mentioned previously that Gale has an empty box that he curls up in sometimes when he's home alone. He keeps this a secret from John, and John never catches him, but he finds the secret box one day.

It's clear what it's used for, because there's a layer of white fur on the inside. John thinks it's endearing and he decides to tease Gale a bit about it during dinner that day.

But it doesn't go the way he hoped. Gale blanches when he realizes that John discovered his secret, and he has a near-panic attack. John jumps to comfort him, but Gale tries to get away from him until John manages to catch him and convince him to talk about it.

Gale's main problem is that he knows that curling up in a box is very cat-like behaviour. He is part cat, but if he acts too much like one and faces this fact, he feels like a freak. So, he tried not to use boxes at all, but they feel so calming and safe that he began to cope with his PTSD this way.

Now that Bucky found his secret, he thinks he can’t do it ever again without looking like a dumb animal. It breaks Bucky's heart. He pulls Gale into a hug and tells him about some of his own coping methods that he kept from Gale.

And maybe, for Gale’s next birthday, his gift is a small, handmade wooden piece of furniture with a hole on the side through which a cat can easily climb inside.

[deflecto]

mirrsd replied to your post: Source How very amusing. And here I was, thinking...

omg, so not true, I can’t stop laughing, how the hell did you mange that? XDXD

The Force was not with me. Clearly.

[pocketmoose]

Concert Asks: 12, 15, 17 :)

12. What’s one thing you have to bring to a concert?

There isn’t really anything I absolutely have to bring to every concert… Oh yeah: good shoes.

15. Worst concert you’ve been to?

In Extremo sometime last year. I used to really like them a couple of years ago, but I wouldn’t have gone if I hadn’t been invited by a friend. The songs weren’t great to begin with, and the sound was really bad. And it was so packed I could barely move. When I left about halfway through the concert, there were still people standing outside trying to get in. Definitely not a pleasant experience.

17. Funniest concert memory?

Oh dear, there are tons. Being screamed at by a drunk violinist after a concert was a highlight. So was Pauline Paris’ pianist who, at the end of the concert, threw a flower bouquet into the crowd, and it landed right in my arms. Then, when he saw me after the concert he shouted “My bride!” He was a cutie.

In terms of funny things happening on stage during a concert, there was the one time during a Die Kammer concert when the bassist thought it’d be a good idea to stick his arm down the tuba, and only realised the mistake he’d made when he pulled it out with a disgusted face.

[bloody-bee-tea]

mirrsd hat auf deinen Eintrag geantwortet “What about a soulmate au where your soulmark glows when your soulmate...”

now I want ro read it *sigh* I'm really starting to hate plots ideas...

How about you write it and tag me in it ;)

[jumpingpuddles]

Quarantine Q&A

Tagged by @mirrsd. Thank you!!

Are you staying home from work or school?

No. I can’t do my job from home so I’m in the office, but there’s very few people actually there and I take a boat to and from work when I can because that means less time spent in a closed space with strangers ’cause half of the traveling time, if not more depending on where I get the commuter boat from, is spent walking from the dock to the office and vice versa. Excellent way to get some light exercise into the day too!

If you’re staying home, who’s with you?

My dad!

Are you a homebody?

Usually, yes. And currently too. But I really miss having the option of going places. And most of all I miss all the people in my choir.

An event that you were looking forward to that got canceled.

A Jethro Tull concert in May. It hasn’t been cancelled, just postponed. But it sucks.

And also my choir’s concert that we were supposed to have at the end of March. Especially since I had a solo...

What movies have you watched recently? What shows are you watching?

There was a movie I watched a few days ago, but my mind is drawing a blank at the moment. I liked it too, so I’m not sure why I don’t remember. Other than that, I’ve been watching Father Brown, one episode of The Alienist (which I plan to keep watching), and slowly re-commencing my Stargate rewatch. Again. I’ve also been watching Starkid and Starkid adjacent stuff! Become my friend and I may force you to watch Starkid. Which @staringatgoats can tell you all about :P

What music are you listening to?

Very mixed stuff. Some folk, classic rock and whatever I’m feeling or what Spotify shuffle thinks I should listen to.

What are you reading?

Nothing right now. 

What are you doing for self-care?

Drinking a lot of tea, taking baths, yoga and pilates. But I miss the gym! My body feels weird now that I’m not doing any proper strength exercises.

Tagging: @bethanyactually, @apicturewithasmile and I just tagged a bunch of people in the last post so... If you want to answer this, please consider yourself tagged!

[alwayscryingoverdannyb]

Thank you @fishylife for tagging me ;))

Rules– answer questions and then tag people who you want to get to know better

Nickname(s): Maru, Mary, whichever is fine

Zodiac sign: Gemini bich

Height: 158 cm (5′2″?)

Last movie I saw: I rewatched The Mask of Zorro lol. but as for new ones - Aquaman and the new Robin Hood.

Last thing I googled: a DAI quest walkthrough :D

Favourite musician: FOB and Brendon Urie

Song stuck in my head: Stereo Hearts by Gym Class Heroes feat. Adam Levine

Other blogs: bloody-mary-23 and this one

Following: 214 (oof xD some of them might be ded)

Followers: 786 on main, 273 on this one

Do I get asks: ask memes occasionally :3

Amount of sleep: either 4 or 12 hrs and nothing in between

Lucky numbers: 23

What I’m wearing: sports bra, old cut-up shirt and sweatpants (sexeeyy)

Dream trip: warm, seaside, sandy beach, no ppl, just margaritas and aperol. and friends.

Favourite food: savoury crepes. always. (put spinach, bacon and egg in it and you’re golden)

Instruments played: piano

Languages: Czech, English, Russian (more and more passively with each month I’m out of school), passive remnants of high school German

Random fact: favorite icecream flavor is coconut or banana. or cookie dough B&J's! :))

Aesthetic: plaid flannel shirts, soft wavy hair, cloudy sky, windy weather, fresh air smelling like soil and wood

I'm tagging @mirrsd @mysdrym and whoever else feels like it - tag me in your answers! ;))

[irohlegoman]

@mirrsd @violetsandshrikes @sandersstudies @stanluigigoshdangit

Because I can't reblog it

[avonne-writes]

@mirrsd good question! To be honest, it would make more sense if they shifted naked, but I just didn’t want to deal with the technical issues of that, so in this AU, they shift with their clothes and the things they carry but not with anything alive 😅

Yes, I can imagine that the military took advantage of shifters for espionage and stealth operations already during the war, Gale just doesn’t know about it. At the time of this drabble, this is still very much under wraps and most people don’t know that shifters exist.

Here (kitty Gale drabble)

The slow, dragged-out death that seeps through everything in the fall will always, inevitably, carry a reminder of the stalag. So far, taking care of his horses and the property provided Gale enough distraction not to let the bad memories affect him. It has been two years. He has learnt how to live with that shadow. Whenever he feels it crawling up his throat like bile, he shifts into his cat form and runs and runs and runs until all his bones remember that they're free.

John, however, doesn’t have an outlet like that. His heart has always been too open, too fragile for how he carries it on his sleeve, and captivity damaged his spirit more than it could ever touch Gale's. It hurts to look at him on gloomy mornings like this and see how dull the light in his eyes is. To look at him only to be met with a dark stare instead of the half-moons of his flirty smile, to see him flit around the house like he cannot stand staying still for more than a second. Gale knows, like he knows his own heartbeat, that John is in physical pain. But God damn it, he doesn’t know how to help him.

"What do you want for lunch?" He calls out from the kitchen, trying to keep his voice cheerful. When no answer comes, he grips the back of one of their chairs and takes a deep breath. "John? You haven't had any breakfast, do you want some pancakes?"

The silence is a heavy coat of guilt on Gale’s shoulders. He’s failing, just like he failed in the stalag. He can’t pull John away from the dark abyss in his mind, he’s not enough, not good enough.

When he hears the sound of footsteps, Gale snaps his head up, only to see John head for the front door.

"Make whatever you feel like, Buck." John says, then sighs. "Everything tastes like ash anyway."

The door creaks open and closed as he steps out, leaving Gale alone in the empty house.

It takes a few minutes for Gale to find the strength to move. Helplessness always makes him withdraw into himself, where he's in full control and nothing could ever touch him. In moments like this, he finds it difficult to talk, as nothing he'd say would make any change in the matter. Words are futile. He knows this. And yet... He knows that silence doesn’t help John either. They've tried it for months on end, haven't they?

Stealing himself for the discomfort of a potential fight, Gale puts on his boots and follows the steps leading away from the house through the muddy ground outside. It’s sprinkling rain, and the leaves scattered around by the wind smell like decay. Gale's nose twitches and the hair on his neck stands up at the wet discomfort of it, but he pushes on until he reaches John where he's standing in the middle of the field behind their home.

"You wanna get struck by lightning?" Gale ask, aiming for lighthearted teasing but he thinks it doesn't quite hit the mark.

Bucky grunts, glaring at the stormclouds ahead. "Maybe I do." He scoffs. "You'd be better off."

Anger flares up in Gale's chest, a stinging flame. "Why d'you have to go and say stuff like that? Why would I be better off, hm?"

Bucky looks chastised, but he doesn’t back down. "You wouldn’t have to stand out here and get soaked, for one. I know you hate that."

"Then don't make me. Let's go back inside."

From the way Bucky's eyebrows furrow and his lips purse, it's clear that he's going to protest. But before either of them could say anything, a loud, plaintive meow interrupts the conversation. They both look over their shoulder to see one of their orange barn cats jogging up to them through the field. She has always driven Gale up the walls since the way John brought her home emaciated and shivering, but they couldn’t just leave her to her fate, so they nursed her back to health, and she stuck around. She has been annoying Gale ever since. Now, as she trots right up to John and winds herself around his legs, Gale can’t help but glare daggers at her.

When John picks her up in his arms, he can feel his cheeks puff up and he can barely hold back a hiss. It would be undignified to act like that in his human form though, so Gale keeps himself in check and crosses his arms. John coos at the cat in his hands, smiling faintly. As Gale stares at the sight, a sudden idea overpowers his jealousy and lights a spark of hope.

"Come on, Bucky. Inside." He says, reaching out to squeeze John's elbow.

When he glances at Gale, John's smile widens. "Really? Jealous about old Martha here?" He teases, scratching the cat's ear as it purrs. When Gale scoffs and starts walking back with brisk steps, he hears John's long stride follow. "You know that Princess is my best girl."

"Just put the damn cat down." Gale grumbles as they reach the house.

It annoys him a little when John refers to his cat form in the third person, because it's still him even if John insists on nicknaming him Princess. But it would be pointless to argue about that today. Gale goes back inside and doesn’t look behind him to see John say goodbye to Martha and follow. He hears him well enough, and it's a relief when the front door closes and the sounds of the coming storm are shut out of the cozy warmth of their home.

Gale waits next to the coat rack until John takes his shoes off, then opens his arms when John steps close enough to embrace. They're getting somewhere now, he can tell, because John hugs him back and clings to Gale's clothes as if he never wants to let go and face the world again. It reminds Gale of the first hug they shared when they reunited in the camp, then the one at Thorpe Abbotts, and he feels like he’ll bleed out if he continues to hold on. He pulls away gently and nudges John towards the bedroom.

"Go change into something dry."

John nods. For a moment, they stay there watching a mirror of their own pain in each other's eyes, then John presses a kiss to Gale's forehead.

"I'm sorry." He says.

Gale gives him a nod to say that it's okay. He knows what he's going to do now. As John disappears down the hallway, he goes into the living room, grabs what he needs and sits down on the couch to wait.

The clock on the mantel above their fireplace ticks the minutes down in quiet monotone.

When John comes back to the room at last, he barks a surprised laugh upon spotting Gale's fluffy cone shape. "Is this about Martha?"

This time, Gale does give into the urge to hiss, baring the sharp little fangs of his cat form as John throws himself down on the cushions next to him. You're an idiot, Gale whines and pushes the comb he grabbed earlier closer to John with his right paw. The signature cheeky grin appears on John's face.

"Aw, baby, do you want me to comb you?"

It's for your benefit, you loony, Gale thinks, but he lets John pull him onto his lap and doesn’t even knead him that hard when John starts running the comb through Gale's long fur. John, of course, winces and groans theatrically as Gale's claws prick at his thigh, but he lets him make biscuits as long as he wants. They settle into a rhythm quickly. It’s the most comfortable John has been sitting still the whole day. He focuses on Gale’s silky fur, and Gale purrs for him. For both of them, if he were being honest.

He doesn’t know how long he does it, but he feels John relax into, and he feels his own body grow tired and boneless in return. He listens to John's breathing and the steady drumming of the rain. It matches the sounds of peace inside.

Although Gale's doing this for John, it’s easy to let the gentle brushing lull him into a sleepy, hazy state, where he feels completely safe and nothing exists but John's warmth, the palm cradling Gale's head and the motion of the comb. He lets himself slump sideways against John's stomach and blinks up at him slowly, thinking I love you every time his eyes slip closed. He rubs his cheeks and whiskers against John's hand until John drops the comb all of a sudden.

He's crying.

Even if he hides it behind his hand, Gale can tell. It’s not a surprise - Gale has been waiting for some kind of relief since he woke up to John pacing around and talking to himself again. The burst of all that pressure in John is welcome, but it hurts nevertheless. There's no pain like seeing the one you love hurting. Gale didn’t know this, couldn’t even fathom it, until he fell in love with his John.

Putting his front paws on John's chest, he stands up tall enough to tuck his head under John's arm and press his face to John's jaw. Wetness soaks into his fur. When John wraps his free arm around him, he licks a salty tear off John's skin. The scrape of his tongue tickles John into a short, hitching laugh.

"Gale." John whispers.

He doesn’t need to say anything else. Gale jumps off John's lap and shifts back, his arms moving to wrap around John's frame as soon as he can move them like a human again, and John slumps into his embrace like a puppet cut from his strings.

"Shh." Gale strokes his back soothingly. "I'm here."

The pained tension in John's body begins to dissipate.

[cajunroe]

100. Put the knife down...I’m not going to hurt you. | AO3

Brad waits silently in the dark in a house that’s not his. He knows its dramatic, maybe overly so, but his line of work can be monotonous, and he takes his joys where he can. He gets wistful sometimes, he’ll admit, because people think being a hired gun is all action and adrenaline, but really it’s a lot of watching and waiting. Like he’s doing right now. So, he figures he’d mess with his target tonight and surprise them when they turn on the light upon entering the safety of their home.

The job was thrown at him only hours ago. A short email from the agency with orders to terminate the target that lived here. A short, stout man in his fifties that had been funding gun-running for years but only was just connected to larger operation earlier this day. He had to hand it to his work, the agency wasted no time in eliminating the bad guys.

He hears a car door slam and boots approach the front door.

He tightens the silencer, checks his safety is off and waits with his gun poised and sitting casually on the front staircase.

Nate notices something off from the half boot print in the mud of the bush next to his front door. He grabs the knife from his back pocket and holds it with the blade pointed outward, ready to strike, as he unlocks the door.

Even in the pitch-black darkness of his new home, he can tell that someone is here that shouldn’t be, sitting on his stairs.

He slowly set his keys and bag down, feigning ignorance.

Knife still in hand, he reaches for the light switch and braces himself.

The light flicks on. He turns quickly and is met with a long-legged, calm, blonde force. He laughs inwardly that his first thought isn’t “This man is going to kill me,” but rather “The man here to kill me is really attractive.”

He refocuses as the man’s face turns from calm indifference to annoyed confusion. Then, and only then, does his notice the gun aimed directly at his heart.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Nate asks firmly. He’s been out of the military for a while, but the training is not something you outgrow or forget.

The man rolls his eyes as he flicks his safety back on.

Nate watches the blonde stand up, impossibly taller as he stands on the bottom step of the staircase.

“Back off asshole. I’m a Marine.” Nate orders, knife poised to strike as soon as the intruder takes a step too close. The safety may be off, but a man like this could probably kill Nate with a paper clip.

The intruder smiles, sharp and dangerous, “Semper Fi.”

Nate balks at that.

The man speaks again, softer this time, “Put the knife down…I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Says the dick who broke into my home and just had a gun aimed at me.” Nate holds his knife tighter.

“My name is Brad if you wouldn’t mind using that instead of childish superlatives.”

Nate scoffs. The audacity.

Still, he figures Brad is the perfect name for a man with his stature and physique. Nate doesn’t realize he’s been staring at the man in front of him and lets his guard down until he feels the knife pulled from his grip in a smooth transfer.

“Good.” Brad comments, the proximity making Nate’s heart race, from adrenaline or attraction he’s not sure.

Brad continues, “Now technically, this isn’t supposed to be your home. This is supposed to be the home of Charles Whitman. A gunrunner and weapons dealer to a domestic, backwoods militia responsible countless terror attacks throughout the country.”

Nate’s eyes widen.

“I moved in a few weeks ago. I was told the previous owners moved uptown.”

Brad sighs heavily.

“For what it’s worth, this has never happened. I’m sorry for the disruption.”

Nate stares at Brad for a long time before he burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Brad looks at him like he’s lost his mind or is in shock or both.

“Disruption?” Nate finally breathes out, “It’s not like you delivered a pizza to the wrong house. You broke in and pointed a gun at me.”

Nate laughs still and sighs as he walks casually toward the bar in the living room.

“Drink?” He calls out, still in shock and wondering why he’s invited the assassin to stay longer.

“Bourbon if you have it,” Brad replies, breaking his gun down with each piece fitting perfectly in the lining of his jacket.

Nate pours the drinks blindly watching Brad handle his gun with such practiced ease.

“You pour any more, I’ll have to spend the night.”

Nate furrows his brows in confusion then turns to look at the glasses and realizes he’s about to overpour Brad’s glass with bourbon.

“Shit!” He exclaims, attempts to mediate that problem by pouring it to other glasses with shaking hands.

Brad grabs Nates hands, knowing that the shock was wearing off and Nate needed a drink more than he did.

He places a glass in Nate’s hands and orders, “Drink.”

Nate follows and is guided to sit on his couch.

Brad soon joins him with his own glass and a second for Nate.

They sit in silence, not uncomfortable, while Nate calms down and Brad decides what the hell he’s doing.

“Feeling better?” He asks softly.

Nate laughs again and Brad realizes he still here because something about his not-target is drawing him in.

“You know, for a hired gun, you have a wonderful bedside manner.”

Brad smiles, liking the man next to him more and more as time passes. He wasn’t like anyone Brad had ever met and in his line of work, Brad’s met more people than he’d like.

“People tell me that all time,” Brad replies, deadpan.

“Really?” Nate exclaims, eyebrows rising to his forehead.

“No.”

Nate and Brad both laugh and Nate slaps Brad’s arm good-naturedly to chide him for the joke and Brad grabs it on instinct.

The contact silences the laughter and forces both men to look at one another. Brad loosens his grip on Nate’s hand

Both men are struck with how easy it is to talk to one another and how, despite how they met, comfortable they were around one another.

Brad was cautious and slow to trust by nature and by career and Nate was the same, but something about the two together was simple and felt easy and natural.

Nate smiles, “I’m Nate by the way.”

Brad leans in slowly, staring deeply into Nate’s focused eyes.

“Good to put a name to the face.”

Nate remains silent, wanting so badly to kiss Brad, but not being able to take the dive. For a trained Marine, his self-preservation was clocking in at around zero right now.

“Dinner?” Nate whispers instead, afraid anything louder would shatter the moment. His self-preservation, despite being a trained Marine, was nearing zero.

Brad smiles, lazy and warm.

“Sure.”

Nate smiles back but neither of them moves to the kitchen.

“Is this weird?” Nate asks suddenly.

“It’s unorthodox, but no, not weird.”

Brad scoots closer to Nate, drawing Nate’s gaze into his own.

“Good,” Nate laughs and pulls Brad into a kiss.

Brad returns the kiss quickly, surprised but not disappointed in how his night has turned out.

He’s about to pull Nate in closer when his phone trills in quick succession.

“Shit.”

Brad stands up and answers the phone quickly.

“Yo, yo, yo. Bradley.”

“Ray. You have thirty seconds.”

“Trombley got the addresses wrong. Send you new coordinates. Hopefully, you didn’t like kill someone yet.”

Brad rolls his eyes so harshly they hurt.

“I know. I didn’t. I’ll head there now. Will send a report when it’s done.”

“Sounds pimpin’, Iceman. See you back at HQ.”

Ray disconnects the call and Brad sighs.

“Duty call?” Nate asks from behind him and Brad barely manages to not to jump. The stealth of the other man impressing Brad in a way that makes him want to continue what they started on the couch.

Brad sighs, “Yeah. My team managed to fix their fuck up.”

Nate laughs, “It’s about time.”

Nate doesn’t know why he’s so casual about the fact that Brad just received an order to follow through on an assassination, but he knows orders are orders and supposes there’s a mutual understanding there.

He throws caution to the wind and grabs Brad’s hand.

“The offer for dinner still stands. When you want.” Nate smile and Brad smiles back.

Nate is pulled into a quick kiss before Brad pulls away and is out Nate’s door.

It isn’t until three weeks later when Nate sees Brad again. This time in a soft grey suit fitted perfectly. Standing in front of the screen door. With flowers.

Nae smiles but crosses his arms to indicate that he’s not happy Brad made him wait so long.

Brad looks nervous and a little uncomfortable and Nate slightly basks in it.

“Dinner?” Brad asks cautiously, worried he’s overthought their fateful meeting three weeks ago. The job had extended because his target got wind of the hit out on him. So, Brad spent the better part of a month chasing hit target across the world when he would’ve rather been with Nate.

Nate let Brad stew in his nerves just a moment longer before he smiles and pulls Brad into his arm.

“You’re in charge of the salad, Iceman.”

Brad laughs and kisses Nate.

Easy.

Simple.

Natural.

Just like he remembered and hopes it always will be.

send me one of these with a pairing and you get a fic