#read larries make me angry

[louiseyesinsky]

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[crowfanity]

Some more text post memes!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

(ID under cut)

[ID: A series of ten text post memes with Ace Attorney character sprites

The first image is a twitter post with Miles Edgeworth looking smug. The tweet reads “proud to announce that i am making a Bad decision but I’m not telling y’all what it is so u can’t stop me”.

The second image is of a tumblr post. An anon with Athena Cykes’ angry sprite next to it asks “Have you ever met someone who you just weren’t able to bully?” Underneath it is Simon Blackquill’s sprite with a smirk next to the response “no. I’m a very unpleasant person”.

The third picture is of a joke article title that says “If You Want To Achieve Enlightenment, You’re Gonna Have To Go Through Me”. In the corner is a picture of Nahyuta Sahdmadhi with his hand up in meditation.

The fourth photo is a tumblr screenshot. It says “my flatmate has just rocked in with the two lesbianest lesbians I’ve ever seen and introduced them as “my sister and my sister’s... roommate”. Underneath it has Kay Faraday grinning on the left, and on the right is Ema Skye’s confident sprite from Investigations next to pictures of Lana Skye with a neutral expression and Mia Fey smiling with her arms crossed.

The fifth image is a twitter conversation. The first tweet has a picture of teenage Maya Fey looking solemn with her head tilted down a bit. The text reads “The realization that the switch is 5 years old and they’re probably gonna reveal their next console in a couple of years just hit me like a fucking truck”. Underneath that is a response saying “I used to go into hospitals and switched the babies around. You can’t do stuff like that anymore, too many cameras.” To the right of that comment is a picture of Zak Gramarye in his magician outfit with his hands on his hips and laughing.

The sixth picture is of a single twitter post. In the bottom right corner is a picture of Nahyuta Sahdmadhi smiling with his eyes closed. The tweet says “Back in Uni, a girl mocked my presentation one time so I searched for her group and asked the topic they were presenting on. I spent 4 days researching on it and asked her so many questions like it was common knowledge that she cried. Stay blessed precious one.”

The seventh picture is of a short Facebook conversation. The first names are censored but the two commenters have the same last name. The first post says “I’d kill my own brother to be in bed right now I don’t even care” with a smiling emoji at the end. To the lower right of the comment is a picture of Aura Blackquill smiling with her chin in her hand as she leans on an upset Clonco. To the left of the second comment is a sprite of Simon Blackquill glaring. The reply says “I’d like to see you try you silly cunt I’ll put you in the fucking ground”.

The eighth photo is of a Grindr conversation. The first message is on the right with a yellow text box and just says “hey” next to a sprite of trilogy Phoenix Wright smiling awkwardly and rubbing the back of his head. The next two messages are on the left and have blue text boxes next to a sprite of Larry Butz playfully rubbing the back of his head with his eyes closed and tongue sticking out. The messages from him read “Hey” “Just so you know I’m not gay or anything”. The next message is next to a sprite of Phoenix looking confused/annoyed and sweating. It says “this is grindr my guy”. The response is next to an image of Larry looking angry with his eyes closed, teeth clenched, and hands balled into fists. The message says “I guess people who are lactose intolerant can’t walk down the fucking dairy aisle? I’m just looking”.

The ninth image is of a single tweet. In the upper right is Athena Cykes’ thinking sprite as she touches her earring. In the bottom right is a sprite of Simon Blackquill looking up and away from the camera and frowning. The tweet reads “My uncle, the countriest guy I know, just said “I fuckin hate seeing chipmunks cause it means there ain’t no big cool birds around””.

The last photo is of a single tweet in a chat format. In the upper right is a picture of Wocky Kitaki with his arms crossed and smirking awkwardly while looking away, looking smug yet nervous. Underneath him is Apollo Justice’s disheartened sprite, slouching forward a bit and looking annoyed/exhausted. The tweet says “me: [whispering to my lawyer]” “my lawyer: I’m not asking that” “me: [whispering some more]” “my lawyer: your honor would he still be guilty if he was a worm”.

/End of ID]

[tw1l1te]

blueberry₊˚✩⊹sal fisher x reader₊˚✩⊹

(Not edited, so please forgive men if there are grammatical/spelling errors. Random thought I came up with. Please let me know if you'd like more backstory/a continuation of this!

Sitting on top of Addison Apartments was a place to think. A place of silence except the sounds of breathing and the occasional shuffling around. You haven't been up here in a while, since the fight you and Sal had a few months ago.

₊˚✩⊹

"God you're such a hypocrite. You keep telling others to take care of themselves and not isolate, but yet you don't give two shits and don't even take your own advice. Not answering your phone or leaving your apartment for over two months? Do you know how worried Ash was? How heartbroken and distant Larry became?? We thought you were fucking dead Y/n. And after all that you decide to drop by and ask 'what's up'?" Sal seethed, his tone getting more hostile by the second.

You don't think you've ever seen him so angry.

"I'm sorry Sal, I didn't mean to make you all worry. That was the last thing I wanted you guys to feel. You know I don't handle my mental health well," you murmured, avoiding Sal's eyes. You could already feel the tears streaming down your face.

"Listen I get it Y/n, but you can't just cut us off like that. You made us all husks of what we used to be. Do you know how many nights I stayed up till the early morning just staring at my phone, hoping you'd at least call?? I couldn't even remember what you sounded like until today."

"Bluebe-"

"Don't call me that. You have no right calling me that after the months of heartbreak and worry you've caused us. Every time this happens, I get my hopes up in that you won't shut us out and disappear. I get disappointed every. Single. Time. You're lucky that Larry, Ash, and Todd are such forgiving people. You don't deserve them."

You mulled over his words. He was right. You didn't deserve them. All the affection and love that they gave you all for you to throw it down the drain when you got too ill. The hundreds of phone calls from Ash. The constant check-ins from Larry over the walkie-talkie, talking about stupid shit that happened that day or speaking softly about how much he missed you. Todd emailing you every few days asking how you were holding up and if you needed anything, but eventually those emails automatically went to spam. And Sal. Sal was probably the hardest to avoid.

He sat outside your apartment door for hours, talking, pleading you to let him in to talk. He brought snacks and slid them under the door, worried if you were eating enough. Playing his guitar for you through the walkie-talkie, hoping it would soothe you or cheer you up. Sliding random doodles and letters under the door so you had something to help remind you about how much they cared about you. How much he cared for you. You kept them all under the bed in a shoe box, reading over every word and cat doodle every single night.

"I can't do this again, Y/n. You've hurt me over and over and over again. Each time I expected it to end different."

He took a pause, waiting for a reaction or a word from you.

"We're done. I don't know about the others, but don't bother writing or talking to me. I can't do this anymore."

And with that, he headed downstairs, not sparing you a single glance back.

₊˚✩⊹

You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the rooftop door creak open.

You don't look back, hoping the person would get a hint and leave.

You hear the footsteps get closer, and stopping right beside you.

"Didn't think you came up here anymore." he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

Fuck. He was probably the last person you wanted to see right now.

"I come here to think." you stated, looking out to the street and nearby houses.

"Y/n, I'm sor-" "I'm leaving." you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say.

You've thought about your time in Nockfell and decided that it was time for you to move on. You couldn't be stuck in a time capsule forever. The more time had passed, the more it had started to hurt being here and see reminders of what had happened. Reminders of him.

"What?" he whispered, finally looking at you.

"I need to move on. I can't be here anymore." you stated, trying to keep your voice level.

"You were right, I can't keep leaving people in the dark and constantly worrying them. I'll keep doing that if I stay here. I need to be somewhere else, I don't know where, but I'll figure it out."

"Y/n. If this is about what I said, I'm sorry, I was in a bad state too. I was just so worried that something had happened-"

"Sal, please stop. I'm not changing my mind. I'm leaving tomorrow morning-"

"What about Ash? Larry and Todd? What about me?? I need you here. It was wrong of me to shut you out, to ignore you. I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You finally looked at him, right into his blue eyes.

His hair had gotten longer, choppier, like he'd tried to cut it himself. No longer in the pigtails you loved. Seems like you'd both changed.

"I need to go, Sal."

You walk away, not looking back because if you did, you wouldn't be able to leave. You wouldn't be able to leave them. Leave Nockfell. Leave him.

"I'll see you around, Blueberry."

₊˚✩⊹

[dead-enby-detective]

To continue my comparison of the Dead Boy Detective show and the Doom Patrol episode with them in it, I wanted to talk about the exploration of Charles’s aversion/fear of water in Doom Patrol, I thought that was an interesting way to give him some more depth in the short time frame (especially since we get to see more of Edwin’s depth with his pain being used to open the door to the afterlife and Larry reaching out to him to discuss his feelings for Charles).

In the scene above Charles has to work himself up quite a bit in order to cross the lake and continue their case.

DBD Charles, in comparison, doesn’t seem to feel the same way about water.

In episode 2, he’s delighted by the enchanted ocean container.

In episode four, he even calls the view “pretty brills” while staring out into the ocean.

He doesn’t hesitate to run to Crystal when she’s dangling over the ocean.

He walks on the ocean side later (probably partially to ensure she doesn’t try to throw herself into the ocean) and even walks toward the water without any fear.

And when the Night Nurse has him relive his memories she sends him to the lake.

To me he seems more confused, maybe frightened because he doesn’t know where he is or what’s going on and than is far more scared when he gets attacked by the boys again rather than afraid of the water itself.

Then after the Night Nurse lectures him he’s angry,

and willing submerges himself to get away.

Then when he returns he, in his anger, sends her over the wall into the water.

To me, if he was afraid of the water, he’d be less likely to want to go towards it, or he’d at least hesitate before putting his plan into motion.

In my first post comparing and contrasting the Agency from the two show, I said the Doom Patrol Boys feel far less reactive to violence, especially their own. They doesn’t seem scared of it or using it themselves. But while DP Charles isn’t afraid of violence, though it did cause his death, he is afraid of water, which also played a role in his death.

In the DBD show Charles is scared of violence (especially his own) - as violence impacted him greatly in live with his abusive father and bullies but doesn’t seem to be of the water which also played a part in his death.

It’s very interesting to me which parts of his death the writers focused on for each show, the DP writers focused on the water/hypothermia and the DBD writers, the bullies.

As I said in my first post, obviously there’s far less time to explore the boys in the Doom Patrol episode than in the Dead Boy Detectives show so that absolutely could have been part of it.

I haven’t yet read the comics so I’m unsure which version of Charles’s fears is more accurate to the source material, if there’s an exploration of it at all.

It makes sense, in the Doom Patrol episode to show his fear of water. It naturally introduces his death, just as the door to the afterlife being opened by open naturally introduces Edwin’s experience in Hell.

The actor handles it really well. Just as the DBD actor handles his fear of violence really well. Both feel natural and important within the context of their shows.

Additionally, I tired looking up to see if Charles’s father was also abusive in the comics and I couldn’t find anything (please let me know if you know otherwise) and according to his wiki Charles actually died from burn injuries - though he did have to spent time in the icy lake as well.

So it’s definitely interesting that both shows focused on the hypothermia from the lake rather than the burns and it makes sense that if there’s isn’t a major storyline about his father in the comics that DP Charles has less negative feelings about violence than DBD Charles and thus, going back to my first post, reacts differently to it even though he too was bullied to death.

It’s incredibly interesting to me to see how the same character can be played/written in two very different ways based off the same source material and the ways the writers chose to focus on their traumas and fear differently.

What do you all think about how the shows chose to handle Charles’s fears?

[toopimpabutterfly]

making my INTRO!!!!! or this is my intro. ykykyk. (meet my shitty way of designing intros and stuff too,)

HIHI call me Jésus I'm 16 Apache Mexican American. With some other stuff cause yeah. just mentioning that cause. I will say a lot of stuff yk. I'm autistic and scitzohenic but PLEASEEEE I NEED FRIENDS and PEOPLE TO talk to about my current interests!!!

MOVIES

Oh to go. on ABOUT THIS.. here's my letterboxd I fucking love movies.

DOGMA, MOONLIGHT, CLERKS, NATURAL BORN KILLERS, GOOD WILL HUNTING, FIGHT CLUB, NAKED LUNCH, FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS, CONSTANTINE, HELLBBOY, GUMMO, MAD MAX + FURIOSA, GODZILLA, I SAW THE TV GLOW, AVATAR, JACKASS, MID 90S, STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON, I LOVE YOU PHILIP MORRIS, WEEKEND AT BERNIE'S, FRIDAY, THE MATRIX, JAY AND SILENT BOB STRIKE BACK, THIRTEEN, REQUIEM FOR A DREAM, TRAINSPOTTING, THE PEOPLE VS LARRY FLYNT, DUCK TILL DAWN, THE WATERMELON WOMAN, DONT BE A MENACE TO SOUTH CENTRAL, BOYZ IN THE HOOD, 12 MONKEYS, MENACE II SOCIETY, WATCHMEN,MALL RATS, KIDS and a lot more.. coughs.

TV SHOWS

PREACHER, THE BOYS, THE MAXX, ÆON FLUX, THE BOONDOCKS, LOITER SQUAD, CLERKS ANIMATED, AQUA TEEN HUNGER FORCE, BOJACK HORSEMAN, BEVIS AND BUTTHEAD, JACKASS THE SERIES, SMILING FRIENDS, THE ERIC ANDRE SHOW, FUTURAMA, KING OF THE HILL, MORAL OREL, BLACK DYNAMITE, HOME MOVIES, SPACE GHOST COAST TO COAST, THE OBLONGS, and more stuff again. Assume that a lot tbh.

MUSIC

THE BUTTHOLE SURFERS, KENDRICK LAMAR, ICE CUBE, N.W.A, BLACK FLAG, DEAD KENNEDY'S, LEONARD COHEN, NINE INCH NAILS, OUTKAST, TYLER, THE CREATOR, NAS, DR DRE, BONE THUGZ, QUASIMOTO, EAZY-E, KMFDM, ALEX G, WEEN, CHEMLAB, JANE'S ADDICTION, GERMS, ANGRY SAMOANS, NEW ORDER, JOY DIVISION, COWBOY JUNKIES, JESUS LOVES JUNKIES, PIXIES, DINOSAUR JR, HOOTIE AND THE BLOWFISH, THE VELVET UNDERGROUND, THE DEAD MILKMEN, NECROS, CIRCLE JERKS, HOLE, and a lot more. I love hardcore punk, crust, hip-hop, rap, and basically everything tbh.

MISC + FIXATIONS

I love comics like the Punisher, The Maxx, Preacher, Bratpack, the clerk's comic, Watchmen,little things. I like reading, TOO . I LOVE HUNTER S THOMPSON!!! Mostly Fear and Loathing in las Vegas, Hell's Angels, and the Campaign Trail 72, and other books like Revolt of the Cockroach People, Get in The Van. Little books like that sorta. GAMES TOO I like Faith the unholy Trinity, DOOM, POSTAL, GTA, DUSK, and a few others!

I collect DVDS, games, VHS tapes, books, CDs, records, laser discs, literally any piece of physical media . All of it. I like conspiracy theories, civil rights activists, some art history, Malcolm X. I'm a punk I go to local shows and stuff and might sometimes post that when I can. I have a HUGEEE fixation rn on Dogma(1999) and Kendrick Lamar. But I heavily enjoy the viewaskew universe rn and want to interact with more of the little fandom please... my dad got me into the movies and we watched them all together n stuff. I do powerlifting as a hobby and like to go on walks around my town and say nonsense please interact. I will post whatever I want here really tbh.. BYE.

[rivstyx]

Hey! Could I please ask for a NatM fic recommendation? I don't like oneshots or pwp so Idk where to start tbh

YES of course you can my dear anon! it sounds like you're looking for longer, more plotty stories, so here are some fics that may fit that description:

The Barn Raising by PoetryInMotion (7,463 words)

The Old West's barn has been demolished by a fetch-related accident. When they get a new one, the Western denizens throw a good old-fashioned barn-raising party. Jedediah decides to invite Octavius (and both secretly hope that they can kindle a romance between the do-si-do and the two-step).

some classic fluff. if you grew up a yeehaw like me, you'll love the little touches of Western culture; if not, you can still appreciate how damn cute this fic is

Down Then Left by mournwiththemoon (36,024 words, incomplete)

Octavius is balls deep in the closet and a mild midlife crisis. Jedediah just wants to fix the elevator. AKA the corporate loser x mechanical engineer AU that literally nobody asked for.

modern AU that i'm obsessed with. octavius is a sad divorced sandbag, jed is an obnoxious wannabe country singer, and i love them both with all my heart

He Loves Me Not by orphan_account (25,820 words)

Jed stumbles across a stack of unsent/unfinished love letters from Octavius to an unknown person in the museum. Jed sets out to find out who. Not because he’s jealous. No, not all.

big romcom vibes. it's not miscommunication, but it's not not miscommunication

if this was a cowboy movie (i'd give you my boots) by Liviapenn (10,180 words)

There are secret articles in our treaties with the gods, of more importance than all the rest, which the historian can never know.' -- Henry David Thoreau. This hour I tell things in confidence, I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you. -- Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself"

ok this one only sort of fits the bill, but i love it too much not to rec it. it follows jed and octavius as they walk back from the car wreck in movie 1 and tell each other stories about their pasts

living beyond your years (acting out all their fears) by Riv_Styx (16,447 words)

“Go,” Octavius repeated. “Run. I am with you.” Jedediah did the one thing he never thought he was capable of doing. The thing he would have sooner died than chosen of his own accord. He ran. Secret of the Tomb AU. Octavius doesn't make it out of Pompeii; angry and grieving, Jedediah goes home alone. Meanwhile, for Octavius, his whole world changes overnight. The new museum is thriving on the magic of the tablet, but it's not where he belongs. It's going to be a long way home.

oh look a familiar name!

my heart will stop in joy by HungryOnMain (12,433 words, incomplete)

A temporary exhibit, on display at the AMNH for a limited time, brings forth a vengeful force from the past. Terrible, painful memories bubble up from the depths of the minds of everyone on display. They can be taken, and joy restored - for a price.

dark, fucked up, and utterly addicting. i eagerly await every serving. this one says "hey, forget kahmunrah - what else could tablet magic possibly do in the wrong hands?"

Any Weather (series) by EwokRae22 (151,470 words)

On a lucky break from McPhee, Larry brings the exhibits on a winter vacation north of New York. He has everything prepared, or at least that’s what he tells himself. Because nothing can stop Jedediah and Octavius’s useless and oh-so-tiny longing for each other, not even the snow.

a fandom classic! the series follows jed and octavius through some wild adventures and features some genuinely heart-wrenching twists

Cacoethes (series) by Anonymous (25,927 words)

A deeper look into Jedediah and Octavius's experiences during Battle of the Smithsonian, and a look at what could have happened after the end.

take the hourglass scene from natm 2 and turn the homosexuality up to eleven, and you've got cacoethes - though the rest of the works in the series are definitely worth the read!

hope this helps! :D

[your-divine-ribs]

Broken Part 2

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: Brief description of a physical assault // this story is about an abusive relationship // hurt/comfort

Imagines Masterlist Main Masterlist

Read Part 1

You curse under your breath as your heel catches on a crack in the pavement.

These damn shoes! Why the fuck did you wear them?

Well... you wouldn't have counted on having to walk through town on your own in the dead of night, half-cut and frozen.

The night had been going so well. You'd been at a party, a friend of James's, and for the first time in for as long as you could remember you'd actually been enjoying yourself on a night out. James was even in a good mood once he'd got over the fact that you weren't going to go and change into something 'less slutty'.

You'd decided that things were going to change and you were determined. No more letting him rule your life, no more jealous comments and angry rages. You were strong. You’d just stand up to him.

Of course what you really should have done is break up with him, not give him another chance. The thing with second chances is they quickly become third chances, then fourth chances, then before you know it you're just forgiving someone constantly, and losing yourself in the process.

You'd noticed James's demeanour start to change after his fourth beer, first came the sullen looks, then there were the little digs. Putting you down in front of his friends, making you feel small. You'd tried to laugh the comments off although they stung. You were good at that. Putting on a brave face. You should have just left the party then, but you hadn't.

You stumble again, a loud sob rising which you try to swallow down. You're trying so hard not to cry, but the more you think about the hopelessness of your situation, the more the tears sting your eyes.

"Oi oi, need a lift sweetheart?" A loud cry goes up as a souped up boy-racer car pulls up next to you at the traffic lights, and a young lad wearing a cap sticks his head out of the passenger window. You carry on walking with your head down, giving the car a wide berth. There's cat-calling and lewd comments but thankfully the traffic lights change and the car screeches off.

You suddenly realise how risky this is, walking alone as drunk as you are, an emotional wreck. It's 1am for gods sake. You hate bothering people but you know Lizzie will be up. It's Larry's birthday and they're having a party at their house. You reluctantly pull your phone out of your bag and perch on the low stone wall of the house that you're outside.

The phone rings and rings, and you're just about to give up when you hear the call connect.

"Y/N! How are you? Wish you were here!" Lizzie's voice comes loud and excited down the line, she's practically shouting over the booming music and background chatter.

You nearly make out that you dialled by mistake and hang up, fretting that you're only going to go and ruin your best friend's evening, but you stop yourself, knowing that she would be mad at you for even thinking like that. You go to speak, but a sob bubbles up from your throat rather than actual words.

"What's up? Are you crying?" Lizzie's voice is even louder now. "Hold on, let me get somewhere a bit quieter... right I'm outside now. What's up? What's happened?"

“I don't know what to do. It's James... we had a row... at the party. It was horrible. He... he..."

You trail off, your throat closing off. You can't quite summon up the courage to say the words because you know that once they're out there it will change everything. You won't be able to lie and hide and cover for him anymore.

"That bastard! What's he done this time?" Lizzie fumes down the line. "I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him! Where are you?"

You look around, suddenly realising that you'd been walking with no destination in mind, the desire just to get away so strong that you'd acted on impulse. You should be going home, but you're not really familiar with this part of town.

"I don't know where I am... I just walked out of the party..."

You stop when you hear Lizzie's voice again, but she's not speaking to you. She's talking to someone else. Her voice is muted like she's holding her hand over the phone.

"Y/N? Y/N? Where are you? We'll come and get you!"

Oh crap, Larry's involved now. You can tell by his slurred voice that he's wasted and there's no way he should be driving. You cringe inside, feeling guilty for ruining your friend's celebrations.

"It’s okay, I'll get a taxi. You just carry on with your night and I'll ring Lizzie tomorrow."

"But she says you're really upset!" Larry's tone tells you that he's not going to back down. "Now tell me where you are."

You look around again, grudgingly telling Larry what you can see and he seems to know your location straight away. "You sound pissed Larry! You can't drive like that," you splutter, but he cuts you off.

"I’m not driving, Van's coming to get you. He's not been drinking, he's got an interview with some local radio show early tomorrow. Stay where you are... alright?"

You mumble a yes, and then Lizzie comes back on the line, still raging on about James but you can't concentrate on her words now. You feel a churn of nerves in your gut when you think about seeing Van. To be honest you've been avoiding him since he walked you home from Lizzie's two weeks ago and he questioned you about your relationship with James. You know he means well but you've no idea how he's going to react when he sees you.

You reach up a hand and gingerly touch the corner of your right eye, wincing slightly. This time it wasn't just harsh words that James fired at you. You'd shouted back at him angrily and he'd lashed out, the resulting blow knocking you backwards with enough force that you'd stumbled in your heels and landed in an ungracious heap on the floor. Immediately he'd acted horrified by his actions, pulling you on to your feet and apologising whilst you just stood there in shock. It hadn't taken him long to back-track though, justifying his outburst by the drinks he'd had and your apparent inability to see things from his perspective. But that was James for you. Nothing was ever his fault.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a car approaching, and you look up to see Van's car pulling up at the kerbside. You stand up tentatively, letting your head hang down so your hair flops down over your injured eye.

"Thanks for coming Van," you mumble as you hear his car door open. "I'm really sorry to drag you out of Larry's party though. I told Lizzie I'd get a taxi home..."

But Van's not listening, as soon as he's out of the car he's rushing around to you, holding out his hands which come to rest on your shoulders firmly, turning you fully to face him. You keep your head down, hiding from the streetlight's illumination.

"What's happened? What did that prick do to you?"

His tone is unmistakable anger and his grip tightens on your shoulders. You freeze automatically, anxiety prickling your nerves. Your chest feels tight.

"Nothing... nothing... I'm okay!"

"I'd say you were very fucking far from okay!" Van fumes. "Just look at you."

He tries to manoeuvre you backwards then so he can take a good look at you but you just hang your head even lower to avoid his scrutiny, thankful for the shadows.

"Leave it Van... it's nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing to me. You're out here on your own in the middle of the night! Jesus Y/N... what happened that's so bad that you had to just run off like that? And why did he let you go off on your own, huh?"

The tears that were already brimming in your eyes are starting to sting now and no amount of blinking them back is going to stop them from falling. You feel a huge sob rising in your throat and you shoot up a hand to cover your mouth like that will somehow stop it but it bursts free anyway.

"Just take me home... please!" You whine.

You're expecting further probing from Van but it's quiet for a moment, your pathetic sniffling the only sound to penetrate the night. His grip softens but only for a moment, then before you realise what's happening his arms start to wrap around your back, pulling you tightly into his body. You're stunned but you just let yourself be enveloped, still holding yourself stiffly. When he talks this time his voice is soft and tentative, but his body still feels tense as you press your face into the material of his shirt.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to shout. I just... I was so worried when Larry told me, I thought something really bad had happened. I about crashed the car getting here I was driving so fast."

Now you're not under pressure to look Van in the eye you can feel yourself start to relax. Maybe you can just gloss this over, act like it was nothing, persuade him to take you home and then you can go and burrow under your bedcovers and shut out the rest of the world. It's your preferred method of dealing with things after all. You know you're going to have to face it at some point but not now. Now you're just too tired, exhausted in fact, the weight of your situation pressing down heavily on you.

"No, it's fine, it was a row, that's all. I'm just overreacting as per usual."

"I'm sure that's not true," he says, and you feel his fingers move gently over your back, soothing caresses smoothing down over your shoulder blades. "You know I don't want to lecture you, but you can't keep going on like this. You shouldn't have to."

I know, you think, but you don't say it. You just nuzzle further into the warmth of his chest, feeling yourself relaxing even more. You've just realised how secure you feel, completely safe and protected. It's a stark contrast to how James makes you feel. It should give you relief but it doesn't, it just makes your situation seem all the more hopeless. You can feel a fresh round of tears welling up again, the sobs wracking your body.

"Oh god I'm so sorry," you mumble into his chest, bringing up a hand so you can dab at your eyes with the sleeve of your top. "Here I go again. I'm a fucking mess."

You huff out a shaky laugh, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere, your attempts to stem the sobs only making your chest even tighter. Little stifled gasps burst from you every now and again as your nose starts to run and you surreptitiously try to wipe that on your sleeve too.

"Shhh... shhh," Van whispers, his head dipping down so that he can speak soothingly into your ear. "Don't apologise love. None of this is your fault. I've got you."

"But I'm making a mess all over your shirt," you say, turning your head to the side. "My nose is running and everything."

Van lets outs a soft chuckle. "I don't mind if you get snot on me... that's what friends are for, isn't it?"

You can't help the laugh that bursts forth and the smile feels good on your lips as you press even further into Van, your fingers flexing on his waist. You both stand there quiet for a moment, you sniffling intermittently as your sobs start to die away, Van stroking your back, his face pressed into your hair now. You feel so comforted that you don't want it to end, you just want to stay cocooned in his arms forever where you don't have to face reality or admit the truth that your relationship's deteriorated past the point of no return. The fact that you're scared of your boyfriend and he actually hit you this time and you have absolutely no idea what he's capable of.

All of a sudden you're one of those girls. The ones you hear about who are trapped in abusive relationships, the ones who lie to protect their partner and cover up their bruises with make-up and convoluted stories about walking into a door. The ones who you shake your head at and pity, and say "I'd never let that happen to me."

Yet here you are.

You feel Van start to pull away and you don't want him to, tightening your grip momentarily before you realise that you need to let him go. His hands move again to your shoulders but he's much more gentle this time. "Hey, hey... we ought to get you home before you freeze your arse off out here."

It's only then that you realise how cold you are, shivers coursing through you from the chilly wintry air. You'd left in such a hurry that you'd not even picked up your coat.

Van quickly shrugs out of his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders and you mumble a thank you, still not looking up, afraid to meet his eyes.

"Come on love," he urges, his arm around your shoulder, guiding you to the car where he opens the passenger door and waits for you to slide in before he closes it.

So far so good. It'll be dark in the car and Van won't notice your bruised eye and then you'll be home. It's late enough that your mum will be fast asleep which will allow you to slip in unnoticed. It'll buy you some time to drum up enough bravery to come clean about what's happening or concoct a believable cover story. You've not decided which route you're going to take yet even though a niggling voice in your head is chastising you for already favouring the latter.

You feel warm in Van's jacket, and as you reach up to grasp the seatbelt you nuzzle into the collar, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne, marvelling at how just that small sense of familiarity is such a comfort to you whilst you're feeling so hopeless.

Van opens up the driver's side door just as you're clicking the seatbelt into place.

"FUCKIN' 'ELL!"

The shock in his voice and the sheer volume of it is enough to make you temporarily forget your efforts to hide your injury, and in any case as soon as you whip your head up in surprise you realise it's already too late.

As soon as he'd opened the car door the overhead light had automatically blinked on, illuminating you perfectly in all your bruised, sorrowful glory. Your head drops down once again, an automatic reaction, but Van shoots his hands forwards, one cupping your cheek and the other under your chin, tilting your face upwards. You try to resist but realise it's helpless, giving in and letting him see, your throat choking up with even more tears.

His face is pure shock shot through with disbelieving horror, and the sight renders him temporarily speechless.

"It's not as bad as it looks, honestly, it's just... it's..."

You trail off, watching Van scan your face, looking for further signs of damage before his eyes come to rest on yours. "Fuck Y/N... why didn't you say something? He did that didn't he? He hit you. He fucking hit you didn't he?"

You don't answer Van, but you don't need to. He can see it in your eyes. All the horror and the pain and the fear that still lingers there, a culmination of your desperation to leave the situation you've found yourself in but you just don't know how.

"But it was... it wasn't... it was just..."

Stuttered words fall from you, broken syllables before you trail off, realising that you're automatically going to defend James even now. Even after all of this. The thought makes you instantly nauseous and you pull away from Van quickly, hanging your head in shame and defeat.

"That bastard! That fucking bastard! I'll kill him. Where is he? Where's this party you've been at? Tell me where it is!"

Van moves erratically in his seat, his body tensing and his arms flailing, slapping down on the steering wheel with force, making you flinch. You can feel the anger radiating off him and even though it's not directed at you it still scares you. You sink down into your seat, making yourself small, an automatic reaction that's become involuntary when you witness rage. You can't help it.

"No! Please no! Please don't..."

You words fall into a strangled cry which is punctuated by yet another sob, your hands shooting up to wrap around yourself, your eyes screwing shut tight, trying to block out all the horror of the night. All you can hear is Van's muttered curses spat out in fury, his control temporarily lost as the horrific notion of his friend being hurt sinks in. He's livid. But you can't let him go and confront James. You can't bear the thought of more confrontation, more anger, more threats and more violence. You just want it to all be over.

"Please stop it!" You cry, and those three words pierce the tense air, bringing Van to an immediate halt.

Silence falls on the car and your eyes flick open. Van's still, frozen with the look of shock and horror still on his face, but something's changed. The anger's still there but he's holding it in, swallowing it down, biting it back, the realisation that it's distressing you flooding him at once.

"Shit... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I didn't think. I didn't mean to scare you. I just... I..." He pauses, shaking his head, at a loss for words.

"It's okay..." you croak, still hugging yourself tightly, pressed into the seat.

"No it's not." He shifts in his own seat, leaning in to you slightly but making sure he gives you space. "The last thing you need is me screaming and shouting and losing my temper. I just lost it for a minute." Another pause. You watch as he closes his eyes, a pained look creasing his face. "What are you gonna do? You can't let him get away with this. Shall I call your mum? The police?"

"NO!" The word flies out with force, panic rising in you like icy flood waters, gripping your heart. "No police, I can't face that... please..."

You're expecting him to protest, maybe just call them anyway, thoughts of being examined and questioned, reliving the moment over and having to press charges chilling you through. But he doesn't. Instead he reaches for your hand which has fallen into your lap, cupping it softly rather than grasping it like he's afraid of expecting too much from you.

"Okay, okay... don't worry. But how about your mum? I could ring her? Or I could just take you there... home I mean. That's probably the best..."

"No..." You surprise yourself, speaking without thinking, the thought coming to you suddenly, an impulse taking over as you turn your hand over and close it over his, squeezing it tight. "I don't wanna go home, not yet. Can we... can we just... go back to yours? Just for a little while."

You can't face your mum, not yet. Not whilst everything is so raw. She'll be upset, absolutely horrified, and you don't feel strong enough. You've not even come to terms with it yourself yet, let alone dealing with the implications and the 'what now's and the future. You just want to feel calm, looked after, safe, and you know that Van will come through for you.

After all, he's just like the big brother you never had. Almost.

I’ve had Part 3 in my drafts for ages so I’ll try and get it finished xxx

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

Proud

May and June, through the years.

Pairing: platonic familial May & Everybody basically

Word count: 3108

Warnings: Hey Look At Me. Theres some pretty serious homophobia at the beginning of this, and references to homphobia throughout

Notes: part of my Love and Other Fairytales verse, spanning from Abby, Dot, and Larry being teenagers to a little less than a year after Linda’s birth.

for @creativity-no-renewal

thank you to @airiervessel for beta-reading!

---

There was a lot May could say about Lazarus Sanders.

None of it was kind.

She hadn’t been angry when she’d found Abigail hiding Laurence in her closet – she’d mostly just been confused. She wasn’t entirely sure she knew what the three of them had going on, and if Abigail was going to give up her disdain for dating for anyone (which May found entirely unlikely) she would have guessed Dorothy before Laurence, who was obviously infatuated with Dorothy himself.

When Larry tumbled out of the closet looking like he’d been crying for hours, she shuffled through the possibilities and came up empty.

“C’mon, up ya get,” she said gruffly, helping him to his feet, “Abigail, did you kidnap the poor boy? The hell is going on?”

Larry, in a rather uncharacteristic move, shrugged off her hands harshly, darted across the room, and- hid.

Hid, behind Abby, like he was- like he was afraid of May.

“Hey, baby,” she said, raising her hands non-threateningly, “What’s wrong? Are ya alright?”

Abby turned and whispered something to Larry, pressing her forehead almost to his temple. Larry looked on the verge of a fresh round of tears, and Drusilla climbed out of Abby’s shirt pocket to clamor up the fabric and onto Larry’s shoulder.

“Promise?” she made out Larry whispering.

“I swear,” said Abby fiercely, “And I can take ‘er if not.”

May recoiled a little. There was a very, very short list of things that Larry could do that she might get genuinely angry at him for, and fewer still that would make him this terrified to tell her. She flipped through them frantically, her heart rate picking up.

“Larry, baby, I need you to tell me straight right now,” she said cautiously, “Do I need to deal with a body?”

Larry actually barked a wet, startled laugh.

“Uh. No,” he choked, “You know, uh. Unless Poppop makes good on the threat to shoot me if he sees me again.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, well, you might want to wait until I tell ya why, in case you agree with him.”

“Laurence Sanders,” she said, some part of her heart crumpling like wadded up trash, “There is not a goddamn thing on this earth you could do that would make me hurt you.”

Larry swallowed hard, and Abby squeezed his hand; he curled into her in spite of having a good six inches advantage, and May wanted to wrap him in knitted things.

“He… found some stuff,” he said, wincing, “You know, like… embarrassing teen boy stuff, please don’t make me say it.”

“He threatened to kill you over smut rags?” she said incredulously.

“No,” said Larry, laughing bitterly, “He threatened to kill me over gay smut rags.”

“… Oh.”

May was ashamed to admit it, but she did blank out a bit. She’d never met a gay – she didn’t really think they even existed this far out of the city. She had a better understanding of the mechanics than most – she was very thorough when giving sexual education to idiot teenagers who were liable to stick their bits damn near anywhere they’d fit – but that was about it. “How to Talk to a Gay Kid” had never been something she’d gone about making a script up for. She was also scrambling to figure out what exactly was going on with Larry and Dot if Larry was gay - she’d been pretty sure, but maybe not-?

“I’ll leave with him,” blurted Abby furiously, shoving Larry further behind her, “If you make him leave I’ll go with him and you’ll never see me again and I’ll make yer life hell from three states away, Momma, I swear I will-”

“Calm down, ya hot-headed little shit,” said May, back on surer footing in the face of Abby jumping the gun like a fool, “No one is leaving. I’m taking a minute to process but let’s make that damn clear.”

“I- No one-?” said Larry, and god, what an awful expression; hope buried under layer after layer of misery, a baby bird too afraid to break the rest of the shell and face the snake.

“No one,” she said, firmer, settling in herself, “I don’t really know what ya need from me right now, baby, I’ll be honest. But you can stay long as you need, and if your granddad comes around I’ll put a bullet in ‘im. Sound doable?”

May had an armful of teenage boy then, and that settled that.

---

Abby had set up this little… picnic. There was only the four of them (Larry, with Abigail and and Dorothy there for moral support and May there for security), the little picnic table covered in knick knacks (crocheted miniature flags, a tub of pins, stacks of hand-drawn pamphlets that they’d had to buy their own printer to copy because no copyshop would let them in) and Jax, circling above and behind. The pamphlets weren’t anything special; black and white, L-G-B-T and a page to explain each that May had had to surreptitiously swipe one of and read rather than put Larry through the misery of explaining what exactly his… situation was when he clearly found the topic very embarrassing. She was pretty sure he was the B, but she wouldn’t say anything until she at least overheard something to that effect.

May sat a bit away from the kids. They were excited – flush and adrenalined with the excitement of doing something they shouldn’t, high on their defiance. May could give them the space for that.

They were just kids. They were old enough to know they were rebelling, to know Lazarus had meant what he said about killing Larry, to know that they were in danger.

And yet still young enough that Abby’s Momma and a twelve-gauge were enough to set them dizzy with victory, make them feel untouchable even in broad daylight, in full view of a road that was gathering increasingly gawking traffic. Some folks drove past four or five times, gaping or glaring or flipping them off. Jax circled the treeline, looking out for anyone sneaking up from the back, and May kept a white-knuckled grip on the shotgun and her eyes glued to the road.

No one stopped. Nobody had the balls or the stupid to face May Gage at her worst, and May was just fine with that. If they could get through this with just the threat alone, she’d be well pleased.

When someone finally crossed that line, she knew it was definitely stupid and not balls.

She stood from her chair, hefting the shotgun, and turned to the kids.

“You hear a shot fire, you run,” she said, “No heroics. You follow Jax back to the house and you lock up and you do not open the door for even god himself, you understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Abby, steel in her eyes. Larry was looking over May’s shoulder, his face ashen.

“Larry,” she said, “If there’s one thing your granddad is, it's a grand ol’ coward. I can take him.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said tremulously.

May turned, stalking across the field toward the incoming column of fury that was Lazarus Sanders.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded, “May fucking Gage and her degeneracy again, your feminism turning my boy into a damn sissy-”

“Let me make this quick,” said May, “You’re gonna leave. You’re gonna let my babies have their picnic. You’re gonna never speak to any of ‘em, ever again. And if you don’t, I am gonna kill you, Laz, and I ain’t even gonna feel bad about it.”

“You threatening me, Gage?”

“I damn well am,” said May, “On my life, on God, on Eve and all her daughters, if you raise a single hand to my kids for the rest of your life, I will put you in the fuckin’ ground, Lazarus Sanders.”

Jax finished his third circuit around them, high over their heads, and even Laz wasn’t stupid enough to not notice the June warm climbing to August blood-hot. Jax swooped down to land behind her, wings spread wide, and Lazarus paled like the cowering dog he was.

“You,” he hissed, furious and terrified, “You did this. Possessed him with your- your devil worship!”

“Larry is the sweetest boy who ever lived in this town, no thanks to you,” said May, “If he’s possessed, may we all be so lucky.”

Lazarus’s eyes bugged out of his head, and apparently that was just too much for him. He turned tail and booked it for his car, and May waited until it was full out of sight before she turned to walk back to the kids.

Dorothy was looking at her with wide, astonished eyes, like May had summoned lightning or something, and Abby looked as smug as a Gage ought to.

May turned to Larry, only to find him already half in her arms, bullying under a damn shotgun like an idiot and hiding his face in her neck, shoulders shaking under her hands.

Well. She’d give him the gun safety lecture after the hug then.

---

Dot and Larry had been running the pride picnic long before their falling out, and May had to admit that she’d missed it. It hadn’t gotten much bigger by then, but it had fairly exploded in the past five or so years. Sure, there were still grousing folks, even a few protesters a handful of times, but even that had died down once May came back with the shotgun in tow once more.

She’d sat a bit further away this time, not without ulterior motive. She was glad she did – Roman, Patton, and Logan ran their own little mini-booths apiece, and Virgil would have been alone if not for the spot saved just for him next to her.

“Seems odd.” he muttered.

“How so?”

“To celebrate something like that,” said Virgil, “I mean... is it like the difference between Seelie and Unseelie, for humans? Or more like springs and summers?”

“Is what?” said May, furrowing her brow, “Sexuality?”

“Yes.”

He was looking up at her with those big, wide-set purple eyes. He was tall and gaunt, no baby fat left on him, but he still had the knobby-limbed gangliness of a teenager, looking a bit like he’d been stretched like taffy too quickly. She didn’t know if he’d fill out over the next few years, if he’d age with her boys. His head was tilted so like Logan’s, his fingertips gripping the hem of her skirt as if to ground himself. The Lord of the Forest, clinging to a grandma’s skirt, nervous around a bunch of strangers.

He was just a kid. And May ought to tell him the truth.

But it was a happy day. And something cold and miserable curled up in her belly at the thought of the way his face would crumple if she told him that some – a lot – of the world hated his boyfriends, for no good reason at all.

“Everybody loves a good party,” said May, shrugging.

Virgil nodded, accepting her explanation easily, and May swallowed the guilt like she did everything else.

“Mamaw!”

May looked up at Roman, who was out of breath and flushed pink, beaming and holding out a pamphlet.

“Okay, so- I know this is weird,” said Roman, “But- Dot said- Dot said she thought Mom would have used it if she'd heard it and I know it's not really cool to speculate on people's identities but I thought- I thought maybe it's a bit different? Because you knew her, and I was wondering, if- what you thought. Maybe.”

“Hm,” said May, nodding, “I have no goddamn idea what ya just asked me.”

Roman laughed nervously, and held out a little green, purple, and black pamphlet. May vaguely recognized the colors from a couple of the flags up, though she’d never bothered to keep track of them. She remembered that first little picnic with Dot and Larry and Abby arguing over which of the rainbows they ought to be using, eight or seven or six stripes, and she’d thought it was silly then and she thought it was silly now.

“Do you think Mom- do you think Mom would have identified as aroace, if she’d known the terms?” said Roman, his voice small, “Do you... do you think she would have been queer, too?”

May skimmed the pamphlet... and a lead ball dropped right into her belly.

Aromantic...asexual... lack of attraction... sex repulsion...

May was old. Old enough she’d thought she was just about unflappable – that she’d seen too much of the world to get caught off guard.

Her baby. Always managing to surprise her, even beyond the grave.

“Yeah, baby,” said May, handing it back to him and for once thanking the shake in her hands that never left, giving her an excuse if either of them noticed, “That sounds like my girl.”

Roman beamed, swooping in to kiss her cheek and pressing the pamphlet to his chest.

May decided she was gonna tell him more stories. It hurt, it hurt more than almost anything, to talk about Abigail, to talk about the baby she’d loved with every cell in her body and betrayed and lost without ever the chance to apologize. To make it right. Abigail died angry at her and she deserved it.

But Roman deserved this. To know her, as best he could. To know how alike they were, how much she saw pieces of Abby embedded in him like crystals on a fresco. May’s pain would have to take second fiddle to that.

Virgil set his head on May’s thigh, and she rested her hand on his head as Roman trotted back to his booth with a spring in his step.

Anything. Anything, for her kids.

---

“What’s that one?”

“That’s the demisexual flag,” said Roman, “Your Papa is demisexual. It means not feeling attracted to someone until you already love them.”

“And that one?”

“That’s the genderqueer flag! Avaun Ellie is genderqueer, and so is Vati, a little bit.”

“That doesn’t sound like Vati’s gender,” said Linda, wrinkling her nose at the flag.

“That’s why I said only a little bit,” said Roman, bouncing her a bit on his knee. May listened with half her attention, the other half on Brian in the bassinet next to her as she jingled his little teething keys.

“Vati’s gender doesn’t really fit any of the ones humans have named,” Roman continued, “Because he grew up among the fae, and not among humans.”

“That makes sense.”

“So he says that agender and genderqueer are closest to his gender, and he likes just ‘queer’ for his sexuality. They aren’t perfect words for him, but they don’t bother him, so he uses them for conversations with humans.”

“What about you?”

“I’m a queer gay man,” said Roman, “That means I’m a man who likes other men.”

“But Vati’s not a man?”

“Ah but that’s where the queer comes in!” said Roman, tickling her stomach and making her giggle, “We aren’t supposed to fit into the words; the words are supposed to fit us! I know Vati’s not a man, but the word ‘gay’ is important to me, and Vati doesn’t mind. I use it because it feels good to me and makes me happy, not because I fit the dictionary definition perfectly.”

“That makes sense,” said Linda, “Like how you’re not really a prince cuz you're a consort but Papa and Daddy and Vati call you Princey anyway cuz it makes you smiley.”

Roman laughed aloud, and May cracked a smile too.

“Yes, exactly.”

“What about the green and black and white one over there?”

“That’s aromantic,” said Roman, “Like... well, like my mom.”

“You have a mom?”

The pause lasted just a touch too long, and May ached.

“I did,” said Roman softly, “She passed away when I was very little.”

“And she was aro-mat-ic?”

“Aromantic, yes,” said Roman, “It means someone who doesn't experience romantic attraction.”

“How’d she have a baby if she didn’t have a husband?”

“Stubbornness,” muttered May, and Roman laughed.

“I wish I could tell you more,” said Roman, “But I don’t actually know much about aromanticism, it’s never come up. The only aromantic person I ever knew was my mom, and I don’t remember her.”

May was old. Older everyday. More forgetful too – there were some things even the fae couldn’t delay, the slow creeping away of her memory being one of them.

She might not have many more chances to say it.

“Roman,” she said, shifting in her wheelchair, “Gimme.”

Roman blinked, startled, and turned to Linda.

“Do you want to sit with Mamaw?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, be gentle.”

Linda was, ginger and feather-light as down as she crawled over the armrest to sit in May’s lap. May breathed her fruit-and-earth smell, and steeled herself.

“... Mamaw?” said Roman softly.

“Actually, baby,” she croaked, “I’m aromantic.”

Roman stiffened, but Linda perked up curiously.

“How’d you get a baby without a husband?”

“I did have a husband,” said May, “I got my baby the usual way.”

“Why’d you have a husband, if you didn’t love him?”

May breathed around the lump, in through the nose, out through the mouth.

“You see this festival, all around ya?” she said gently, gesturing around, “How it’s a big party, and most everyone in town comes, and we’re all happy?”

“Yeah?”

“It wasn’t always like this,” said May, “It used to be scary, to be different this way. People might hurt ya. And so nobody talked about it if they could help it. When I got married, it was because I was lonely, and I thought that if he loved me, and I had company, well, that would be enough. I didn’t know there was a word for what I was, I thought... I just thought there was something wrong with me.”

“Mamaw,” choked Roman, clutching her hand hard.

“But... that’s sad,” said Linda, furrowing her brow in confusion.

“It is a bit, ain’t it?” said May, “But now things are better, and we have a grand ol’ party, don’t we? And I’m happy. Happy enough that I can admit it and not feel like I’m doin’ somethin wrong. I’m so, so happy, baby.”

Roman jumped from his chair to kneel beside hers and wrap his arms around both of them. May slipped a gnarled hand into the peppered white at his temple. Her boy, all grown. Maybe grown enough that May could put a little bit down, and trust he’d help her out.

“I’m so proud of you,” said Roman wetly.

And there was no better feeling in the world.

---

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[zilabee]

There are a couple of places in Ticket To Ride, where Larry Kane simply types up his notes of the concerts as he took them at the time.

Chicago, Sep 5, 1964 (The meat referred to here is a piece of raw steak that someone threw at Paul.):

Ringo. Beating the drums so hard. wonder how he can hear what's going on with the crowd noise. He keeps on putting the stick to the drums. Looks around. Smiling. George kicks the slab of meat off the stage. McCartney and Lennon face to face, cheek to cheek, almost in perfect harmony on I Wanna Hold Your Hand. Girl behind me puts arms over my shoulders, reaching out to try and grab Paul's shoes. Her face is pressed against the strap of the tape recorder. Cop has arms spread out to prevent movement toward stage. Paul looks down at me with an expression that reads, "What are YOU doing down there?" He smiles. Wonder if I'll make the motorcade or get squeezed to death right here. Breathing difficult. Sweating loads. Girl in rear crying. Is it pain or pleasure? Hard Days Night playing. This was a hard night. Being in the middle, between Beatles and fans, makes me feel closer to it - whatever 'it' is. Clarence Frogman Henry is standing near the stage, taking it in. When Hard Days Night is over I start pushing and shoving to get out, but some private guard holds me back. I move to the other side and reach rear entrance. No chances here. I get to the cars before the Beatles. Neil brings boys to limo. Ringo jokes about flying meat. Derek looks pissed. Hope I never see this place again. It's too hot and sticky.

New Orleans, Sep 16, 1964:

"Ringo banging the drums hard, looking left and right. Paul lifting guitar up and down. John looks screwed up, like he doesn't know what's on or not. In front of me, two girls in big wide dresses take a lunge at cops, who push them back. But another girl makes it through to stage. Neil and Mal grab her and she runs back through police line. Cops look frustrated, sweaty, kind of angry. Waves and waves keep hitting them. Nightsticks come out and they wave them over heads as if to threaten. Paul's microphone seems dead. I think it's out but he doesn't know it. Now the horses come in, and some of them are agitated. What a scene - horses' hooves flying, children hurling themselves at police. Kids fainting. It's pandemonium or worse. Private security guards. They are not armed. Trying to keep kids back. Incredible."

from Ticket To Ride, by Larry Kane

[ourshadowstallerthanoursoul]

Interview to JPJ

(by Steven Rosen, Guitar Player - July 1977, Chicago)

It was shared on ultimate-guitar.com by Steven Rosen himself (link). I suggest going to read the introduction because there's a bit of angry JPJ which is quite surprising (to me at least). Enjoy!

What was the impetus behind becoming a bass player?

I used to play piano when I was younger, and there was a rock and roll band forming at school when I was fourteen, but they didn't want a piano player, all they wanted was drums or bass. I thought, I can't get the drums on the bus, bass looked easy, four strings, no chords, easy so I took it up. And it was easy; it wasn't too bad at all. I took it up before guitar, which I suppose is sort of interesting. Before I got a real 4-string, my father had a ukulele banjo, a little one, and I had that strung up like a bass, but it didn't quite have the bottom that was required. Actually my father didn't want to have to sign a guarant or to back me in the payments for a bass. He said, ‘Don't bother with it; take up the tenor saxophone. In two years the bass guitar will never be heard of again.’ I said, ‘No Dad, I really want one, there's work for me.’ He said, ‘Ah, there's work?’ And I got a bass right away.

What was your first bass?

Oh, it was a pig; it had a neck like a tree trunk. It was a solid body Dallas bass guitar with a single cutaway. It sounded all right though, and it was good for me because I developed very strong fingers. I had no idea about setting instruments up then, so I just took it home from the shop. I had an amplifier with a 10 speaker... Oh, it was awful. It made all kinds of farting noises. And then I had a converted television; you know one of those big old stand-up televisions with the amp in the bottom and a speaker where the screen should be. I ended up giving myself double hernias. Bass players always had the hardest time because they always had to cope with the biggest piece of equipment. It never occurred to me when I was deciding between that and drums that I'd had to lug a bass amp.

What kind of music were you playing in that first band?

Shadows, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis stuff. I started doubling on piano. We didn't have a drummer at first, because we never could find one. That happened to another bass player, Larry Graham, Sly Stone's bass player. He started off in a band with no drummer, which is how he got that percussive style. You've got a lot to make up for once the lead guitar takes a solo because there's only you left. You've got to make a lot of noise. We got a drummer after a while whom I taught, would you believe. I've never played drums in my life.

That must have definitely had an influence on your playing.

I suppose it must have. I don't like bass players that go boppity boppity bop all over the neck; you should stay around the bottom and provide the end of the group. I work very closely with the drummer; it's very important.

How long did that first band last?

Not very long. I found a band with a drummer. This band also came along with really nice looking guitars, and I thought, ‘Oh, they must be great!’ They had Burns guitars so I got myself one, too. The one with the three pickups and a Tru-Voice amplifier. We all had purple band jackets and white shoes, and I thought, ‘This is it, this is the big time.’ But as soon as I got out of school I played at American Air Force bases, which was good training, plus they always had great records in the jukebox. That was my introduction to the black music scene, when very heavy gentlemen would come up insisting on Night Train eight times an hour.

What was the first really professional band you were in?

It was with Jet Harris and Tony Meehan (bassist and drummer with The Shadows). That was when I was seventeen, I suppose. And those were the days when they used to scream all the way through the show. It was just like now, really, where you have to make a dash for the limos at the end of the night make a sort of terrible gauntlet. In the days before roadies, you'd have to drag around your own gear, so we all invested in a roadie. We thought we owed it to ourselves, and this bloke was marvelous. He did everything, he drove the wagon, he lugged the gear, he did the lights... the whole thing.

What kind of bass were you using with Harris and Meehan?

Oh, I got my first Fender then. I lusted after this Jazz bass in Lewisham, and it cost me about $250, I think. It was the new one. They'd just changed the controls, and I used that bass up until last (1975) tour, and then she had to go. She was getting unreliable and rattling a lot, and I just had to leave her home this time.

What followed your working with that band?

I got into sessions. I thought, ‘I've had enough of the road’, bought myself a dog and didn't work for six months. Then I did start up again. I played in other silly bands. I remember that Jet Harris and Tony Meehan band, John McLaughlin joined on rhythm guitar. It was the first time I'd met him and it was hilarious. Here he was sitting there all night going Dm to G to Am. That was my first introduction to jazz when he came along, because we'd all get to the gig early and have a blow. Oh, that was something, first meeting him. And then I joined a couple of other bands with him for a while, rhythm and blues bands.

Do you remember the first session that you ever did?

No, I don't think so; it was in Decca Number 2 (studio in London). I was late, and I suddenly realized how bad my reading was. There was another bass player there, a stand-up bass, and I was just there to provide the click. It was nearly my last session.

Who were some of the people you were doing sessions with?

All kinds of silly people: used to do calls with Tom Jones, Cathy Kirby, Dusty Springfield.

The Rolling Stones and Donovan, too, didn't you?

I only did one Stones session, really. I just did the strings, they already had the track down. It was ‘She's A Rainbow’. And then the first Donovan session was a shambles, it was awful. It was ‘Sunshine Superman’ and the arranger had got it all wrong, so I thought, being the opportunist that I was, ‘I can do better than that’ and actually went up to the producer. He came around and said, ‘Is there anything we can do to sort of save the session?’ And I piped up, ‘Well, look how about if I play it straight?’ because I had a part which went sort of ooowooooo (imitates a slide up the neck) every now and again, and the other bass player sort of did wooooo (imitates downwards slide) down below, and then there was some funny congas that were in and out of time. And I said, ‘How about if we just sort of play it straight; get the drummer to do this and that?’

How did the session go?

The session came off, and I was immediately hired as the arranger by Mickie Most whom I loved working with; he was a clever man. I used to do Herman's Hermits and all that. I mean they were never there; you could do a whole album in a day. And it was great fun and a lot of laughs. I did all of Lulu's stuff and all his artists. I did one Jeff Beck single, and he's never spoken to me since. It was ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining’. I did the arrangement for it and I played bass. Then we had ‘Mellow Yellow’ for Donovan, which we argued about for hours because they didn't like my arrangement at all, not at all. Mickie stood by me. He said, ‘I like the arrangement, I think it's good’. It wasn't Donovan. He didn't mind either but he had so many people around him saying, ‘Hey, this isn't you.’ But he sold a couple of a million on it, didn't he?

Was the Hurdy Gurdy Man session when you first met Jimmy Page?

No. I'd met Jimmy on sessions before. It was always Big Jim and little Jim. Big Jim Sullivan and little Jim and myself and the drummer. Apart from group sessions where he'd play solos and stuff like that, Page always ended up on rhythm guitar because he couldn't read too well. He could read chord symbols and stuff, but he'd have to do anything they'd ask when he walked into a session. But I used to see a lot of him just sitting there with an acoustic guitar sort of raking out chords. I always thought the bass player's life was much more interesting in those days, because nobody knew how to write for bass, so they used to say, ‘We'll give you the chord sheet and get on with it.’ So even on the worst sessions you could have a little runaround. But that was good; I would have hated to have sat there on acoustic guitar.

How long did you do sessions?

Three or four years, on and off. Then I thought I was going to get into arranging because it seemed that sessions and running about was much too silly. I started running about and arranging about forty or fifty things a month. I ended up just putting a blank piece of score paper in front of me and just sitting there and staring at it. Then I joined Led Zeppelin, I suppose, after my missus said to me, ‘Will you stop moping around the house; why don't you join a band or something?’ And I said, ‘There are no bands I want to join, what are you talking about?’ And she said, ‘Well, look, I think it was in Disc, Jimmy Page is forming a group’, he'd just left the Yardbirds ‘why don't you give him a ring?’ So I rang him up and said, ‘Jim, how you doing? Have you got a group yet?’ He said, ‘I haven't got anybody yet.’ And I said, ‘Well, if you want a bass player, give me a ring.’ And he said, ‘All right, I'm going up to see this singer Terry Reid told me about, and he might know a drummer as well. I'll call you when I've seen what they're like.’ He went up there, saw Robert Plant, and said, ‘This guy is really something.’ We started under the name the New Yardbirds because nobody would book us under anything else. We rehearsed an act, an album, and a tour in about three weeks, and it took off. The first time, we all met in this little room just to see if we could even stand each other. It was wall-to-wall amplifiers and terrible, all old. Robert (Plant) had heard I was a session man, and he was wondering what was going to turn up some old bloke with a pipe? So Jimmy said, ‘We're all here, what are we going to play?’ And I said, ‘I don't know, what do you know?’ And Jimmy said, ‘Do you know a number called, The Train Kept A Rollin'?’ I told him, ‘No.’ And he said, ‘It's easy, just G to A.’ he counted it out, and the room just exploded, and we said, ‘Right. We're on, this is it, this is going to work!’ And we just sort of built it up from there. ‘Dazed And Confused’ came in because Jimmy knew that, but I could never get the sequence right for years; it kept changing all the time with different parts, and I was never used to that. I used to having the music there, could never remember. In fact, I'm still the worst in the band remembering anything. And the group jokes about it, ‘Jonesy always gets the titles wrong and the sequences wrong.’ Even now I have a piece of paper I stuck on top of the Mellotron which says: ‘Kashmir remember the coda!’

What were some of your early amplifiers?

I've used everything from a lousy made-up job, to a great huge top valve (tube) amp. We started off in a deal with Rickenbacker where we had these awful Rickenbacker amps; they were so bad. Our first tour was a shambles. For about a year I never even heard the bass. They said, ‘We've designed this speaker cabinet for you’, and I said, ‘Let me see it, what's it got in it?’ It had one 30 speaker! I said, ‘All right, stand it up there alongside whatever else I've got, and I'll use it.’ I plugged it in, and in a matter of five seconds it blew up. I thought the bloke was having me on; I said, ‘There's no such thing as a 30 speaker!’ And I had to take the back off because I couldn't believe it. Then we met the guy from Univox, and he came up with a bass stack, which unfortunately didn't last the night. But while it was going, it was the most unbelievable sound I've ever heard. It was at the Nassau Coliseum in New York, I remember, and the bass filled the hall. It was so big, it couldn't have lasted. I don't think I'll come across anything that sounded like that. But as I said, three numbers and wheel the Acoustics out again. I used two or three 360 standard Acoustics for quite a long time. They served me well.

You used the Jazz bass until just recently?

Yeah. Oh, I got a hold of a very nice Gibson violin bass (pictured in the little cut out wheel on the cover of Led Zeppelin III). That was nice, too, it's not stage worthy, but it gives a beautiful warm sound. I don't like Gibson basses generally because they feel all rubbery; I like something you can get your teeth into. But the violin bass was the only Gibson that was as heavy as a Fender to play, but still had that fine Gibson sound. I used it on Led Zeppelin III, and I've used it every now and again, usually when I'm tracking a bass after I've done keyboards for the main track. The one I have went through Little Richard's band and then through James Brown's band, and it arrived in England. In fact, I saw it in an old movie clip of Little Richard. It was probably about a '48 or '50 or something like that; it was the original one. Actually, I've also got an old '52 Telecaster bass. I used that on stage for a while, for ‘Black Dog’ and things like that.

Do you ever use a pick when you play?

Yes, when the situation demands it; on the 8-string it's awful messy with your fingers. On ‘The Song Remains The Same’ I use a pick to get that snap out of the instrument. It's fun, you play different. If I was just playing straight bass, I'd use fingers. When I first started I always used my fingers.

How has playing with Jimmy Page for the last nine years styled your playing?

That's hard. I play a lot looser than I used to. For instance somebody like John Entwistle is more of a lead instrument man than I am. I tend to work closer with Bonzo I think. But then again I don't play that much bass on-stage anymore, what with the pianos and the Mellotron. I'll always say I'm a bass player, though.

How do you develop a bass part?

You put in what's correct and what's necessary. I always did like a good tune in the bass. For example, listen to’ What Is And What Should Never Be’ (on Led Zeppelin II). The role of a bassist is hard to define. You can't play chords so you have a harmonic role; picking and timing notes. You'll suggest a melodic or harmonic pattern, but I seem to be changing anyway toward more of a lead style. The Alembic bass is doing it; I play differently on it. But I try to never forget my role as a bass player: to play the bass and not mess around too much up at the top all the time. You've got to have somebody down there, and that's the most important thing. The numbers must sound right, they must work right, they must be balanced.

You just picked a track from the second album, but there was something so gloriously unique about the first Zep record.

I know what people mean when they say the first Zeppelin album was the best. It was the first. I don't know what it was; we could never recreate those conditions it was recorded in. It was done in about thirty hours, recorded and mastered. There was a lot of energy in those days. But I liked (Physical Graffiti). I liked most of them actually. The funny thing was about the first album, when we got to about the third album (Led Zeppelin III) and started using acoustics everyone was saying, ‘Ahhh, Led Zeppelin has gone acoustic. They've changed their style.’ What everybody forgets is there were two acoustic numbers on the first album. Right? ‘Babe I'm Gonna Leave You’ and ‘Black Mountain Side’. The funny thing is people try to pigeon-hole you with all that heavy metal stuff. And if they ever listened to the fucking albums they'd realize it was never riff after riff after riff. It never was like that, you know? Peculiar... oh, well.

Do you practice?

In a word, no. I fool around on piano, but bass I never practice. Although again, with the Alembic, I'm beginning to feel, ‘Wouldn't it be nice to have it in the room?’ It really makes you want to play more, which is fantastic.

The band has always had a strange relationship with the press.

There is an amount of professionalism which must be retained. You can't go around canceling gigs and things like that. After Robert's accident there were rumors of, ‘Oh, they're afraid to come out’ and this and that which was really hard on us because we've always tried to be as professional as possible. And we take a pride in this. We've tried to turn up on time but it gets hard moving this amount of people. And that sort of thing hurts. Robert was in a wheelchair and we had to wait until he was healed. And then we were all ready to go and he got tonsillitis on this '77 tour. And he must have felt so bad. I tell you if this band ever drops from favor with the public, a load of people are going to come down on our asses so fucking hard. They're just waiting for us to drop. I don't know why, I honestly don't know. I always remember the first review of our first album in Rolling Stone and the bloke dismissed it out of hand. I don't even think he would listen to it and said as much. Then they dismissed us as hype.

Who do you listen to?

I don't. I used to listen to a lot of jazz bass players once, but jazz has changed so much now, it's hardly recognizable. I listened to a lot of tenor sax players: Sonny Rollins, John Coltrane and all those people. Bass players? Scott La Faro, who died. He used to be with (jazz pianist) Paul Chambers. Ray Brown and Charlie Mingus, of course. I'm not too keen on the lead bass style of some players. Paul McCartney, I've always respected; he puts the notes in the right place at the right time. He knows what he's about.

Who don't you listen to?

Ian [Anderson] is a pain in the ass. We toured with Jethro Dull [sic] once and I think he probably spoke three words to Jimmy or I at any one time. The band was nice but he was such a funny fucker. His music bores the pants off me, it's awful. Page came up with the greatest line about them. He had a title for a live album when Jethro was playing in Los Angeles: ‘Bore 'Em at The Forum’. (Ritchie) Blackmore is another guy I don't like. He was supposed to have been a big session man but he must have done demos because he was never a regular session man. I'm getting out all my pet hates.

There's nothing you'd like to do outside of Zeppelin in an instrumental context?

I always get the feeling I'd like to write a symphony. I like all music. I like classical music a lot. Ravel, Bach, of course, Mozart I could never stand, though to play it on the piano is great fun. If Bach had ever come across the bass guitar, he would have loved it. Rock and roll is the only music left where you can improvise. I don't really know what's happened to jazz; it has really disappointed me. I guess they started playing rock and roll.

So you're able to continually experiment in Zeppelin and expand your playing?

Yes, absolutely. I wouldn't be without Zeppelin for the world. What's it like being in Led Zeppelin? I don't know. It is a peculiar feeling; it intrigues me.

[foxes-that-run]

Dear angry anon,

Below I have some reading suggestions for you instead of my blog, while you read these I recommend listening to Treat People With Kindness.

This ship has been used to bully, makes it difficult for the subjects and distracts from the many talented LGBTI+ artists we are blessed with.

Thank you and all the best.

28 times 1D said Larry is not a thing.

"On the phone to my sister [...] :) she's telling me about 'Larry Stylinson' hahah!!" H on Twitter November 2010

In 2011 Louis said he had a girlfriend in nearly every interview

“originally they were making little fan fiction but then it turned into so many people. Some people genuinely believe Harry and I are in a relationship. We started off just saying really good friends” have you kissed? “No.” Muchmusic June 2012

"This is a subject that was funny at first but now is actually hard to deal with as I am in a relationship. Me and Harry are best friends, people look into our every move. It is actually affecting the way me and Harry are in public." “We want to joke around but there seems to be a different rumour every time we do anything.” LT MTV July 2012

“Hows this, Larry is the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. I'm happy why can't you accept that.” LT Twitter September 2012

“Still months on reading ridiculous conspiracy theories. It's upsetting that I have to read them daily. Thank god for the lovely people on here. People like you reflect so badly on our incredible fan base. Go and waste your time somewhere else. unfortunately mate people like that are a lost cause and can’t stand to see me and Eleanor happy. Shame really!” On Twitter September 17 2012

"I just think it’s really degrading towards her." LT Chatty Man September 2012

"That is a conspiracy fan fiction that's made up between me and Harry." "Well it gets pretty graphic, it's just, apparently me and Harry are together and my girlfriend isn't real." LT Late Late Show October 2012

“But a lot of them are so wrapped up in the conspiracy. Let me tell you now, they'll find a way to put some twist on this interview. I think it's pretty obvious when you see me and Eleanor together that it's real. Think of the amount of time I spend with her. It's crazy that I even have to say it's genuine. 'The truth is, these people aren't our real fans. That's the way I like to look at it.” LT ET November 2012.

"Harry was the initial boy who set us up, Louis and Eleanor as well" Liam i93 Dallas June 2013

"That's photoshopped." So there's nothing going on? "No." H Sunrise October 2013

“The psychology behind the theories are very interesting. That's a fucking annoyance. I wouldn't say it was impressive. I'd say it was f***ing annoying." Louis sugarscape 26 November 2013

“The fact that you work for such a 'credible' paper and you would talk such rubbish is laughable. I am in fact straight.” LT Twitter November 2014

"People think of the Louis and Harry thing, which is absolutely nuts and drives me insane. It's like when you know the ins and outs of what is going on with people it's so annoying when it's so stupid. It becomes like a conspiracy or a cult, the people who watch them and think that every move they make is a gesture toward them being together, and I know it's not true and it makes me mad. It's so funny to be on the inside of it because you know what's what and then you hear all these crazy theories," Liam to Altitude September 2015

"Have a bit of respect for the baby." LT Refinery April 2016.

"This could cause like Global World War III! But I I have to say something. No, Larry's not real," Liam to KDWC 101.3 May 2017

"I think if you really listen to the lyrics, I think you can work out if it's really about that or not, and I would lean towards no." H to Teen Vogue May 2017

When Louis blocked the word Larry on instagram and posted his middle finger. Buzzfeed September 2016

Roman camp asked if Harry’s hand is in Louis MV “not that I’m aware.” Harry Roman Kemp May 2027

“It took away the vibe you get off anyone. It made everything, I think on both fences, a little bit more unapproachable. I think it shows that it was never anything real, if I can use that word.” Louis The Sun July 2017

"yeah so what was that like anyone who wants to write any rubbish about um the relationship between us, but that's just evidence right there you know what I mean when it matters" Louis Lorraine July 2017

"People can believe what they want to believe, but I just think it comes across sometimes a little bit disrespectful to the ones that I love. You know, like Eleanor. And, it's like anything. If you Google "conspiracy" on iPhones - You're gonna get a conspiracy. So, I think it's one of these things that people just love to buy into, But in reality, obviously there's no truth to it, obviously." LT Big Biz Quiz August 2017

"It was a kind of confusing thing to me as I have always been pretty open about me and my girlfriend. But hey, you know." … "They all think that my girlfriend is employed, these people who believe in that conspiracy." to Andy Cohen 7 August 2017

"I can categorically say that I was not contacted nor did I approve it." Twitter July 2019

“Can you imagine,” he says, “going on a second date with someone and being like, ‘OK, there’s this corner of the thing, and they’re going to say this, and it’s going to be really crazy, and they’re going to be really mean, and it’s not real.… But anyway, what do you want to eat?’ ”H to Rolling Stone 22 August 2022

“You start by realising all these ridiculous childish theories and conspiracies are wasted time and energy and then just throw the chicken in the oven to be fair.” Louis Twitter November 2023

"what are you most proud of?" "Freddie" LT Twitter November 2023

“they will not see the truth for what it really is. I'm sure many people look and find all these little conspiracies that happen in life interesting. I'd be lying if I said it didn't irritate me” April 2024 to G1

Seriously, it’s time to use this energy to

Support Queer Artists

[tellmissyou28]

Well, I'm going to think, saying how I think I see Larry, I don't want people to criticize me because I truly enforce doing this, I don't want anyone saying that nothing I say is false, it's just my point of view and please, if you don't like Larry don't read and thank you.....

well let's start everything starts in 2010 in my opinion I think the one who was in love was Louis and Harry still not well why I believe this you don't know if you remember him. diary video in which Niall says that a fan tried to put Harry's cell phone in to make him see him the next day, well Louis gets jealous but what I notice is that Harry is calm but calm and calm because Louis would manage to make Harry fall in love with him in that same year 2010 since later we had this beautiful moment

Yes, as we can see, Harry was nervous and more so because of the kiss that Louis gives him in the original video, he tells him that he is very cute. I firmly believe that Louis fell in love with Harry first and managed to win him over, since later Harry would do many things for him.

We went to 2011 this year I love it because Harry and Louis were inseperable although Louis had a girlfriend so remember that Louis got married in 2011 and that's when the complications would start since there were surely fights I'm not saying it's just that it can happen that out of jealousy or ect. We all remember the One Direction interview that was done in Dallas in which Louis says that many fans believe that he and Harry are dating. Harry's reaction is not a reaction like a friend and we all know that by that point Louis is supposedly already They didn't like those rumors and they also had to remember that he had a girlfriend and that it bothered him, supposedly obvious, then it seemed like this

Everyone, absolutely everyone, remembers that, even those who don't believe in Larry, well, this tweet is very important since 2012 would come later, the hard times.

Ok, that's my point of view, I repeat, I don't want you to get angry with me, please. ;) This is the chronology from 2010 to 2011, I didn't put much information because it was going to take much longer to upload, sorry next time I'm going to upload it with more information, seriously, I promise, I'll repeat this point of view, don't get angry ;)

[drpsps]

Random shit I said while watching different saw movies!!! Pt1

Spoiler Warning

Saw - “Adam isn’t THAT fine” (lying right through my teeth).

“Teehee Larry you naughty boy” (was extremely high).

“Y’all their actually gay” (chainshipping bitches)

“I just know if Adam survived he would NEVER stop fucking with Lawrence” (Annoying bf who?).

“My pookie John is so silly!” (Besties hear me out, sometimes the pookie is a crazy old man).

“I hate you Lawrence.” (During the whole “I gotta go get help” thing).

“Adam’s thoughts were “Why is that body throwing it back?” during the scene where John gets up.” (I am crazy).

Saw 2 - “Y’all fuck that kid.” (I’m a hater fr).

“His dad is a fucking dick and I hope he DIES!” (He indeed does not die).

“Amanda you’re so silly.” (She was being crazy).

“I hate everyone but Amanda and that dumb ass kid.” (It was that first scene where someone died).

“Okay okay just can everyone calm down.” (Literally any fight scene).

“Damn HE’S BALD AND TORTURING PEOPLE WITH HAIR!” (Gotta quote a good ole tiktok).

“Shit man’s is beating an old guy whose dying.” (I thought it was funny).

“I’M SO GLAD THE KID SURVIVED!” (Me before the reveal).

“Oh fuck that.” (Me after the reveal).

Saw 3 - “Amanda calm your tits.” (Teehee).

“John what the fuck.” (I think he said some dumb shit).

“Okay bitches calm down.” (Anytime Amanda was beefin with the doctor chick).

“Shitttttt!” (x20 because y’all wtf).

“I thought he was gonna change!” (Dude remained vengeful).

“Well everything is fucked now.” (Amanda montage).

“Girl shut up.” (The doctor chick said something super cunty).

“Yas queen!” (Amanda said something super cunty).

“NOOOO!” (any fucked scene).

“YASSSSS!” (Any good scene).

Saw 4 - “OMG IT’S MY POOKIE BEAR MARK!” (Mark appeared on screen).

“I wonder how they didn’t know it was Mark. The constant side eye was a dead giveaway.” (We were barely a few minutes in and he did it three times).

“My pookie wookie isn’t crazy.” (Mark hoffman is extremely crazy).

“His delulu became trululu.” (Mark casually killing).

“If John is dead, then why would Mark join now?” (Before reveal).

“OOOOOHHHH.” (After reveal).

“Mark definitely listens to slipknot.” (Casual observation and definitely not a projection).

“I would NOT survive a Hoffman trap.” (Bitch rigged everything).

“Oh pookie…” (Near the end of the movie).

“I’m glad Eric died..” (Randomly remembering he’s there).

Saw 5 - “IS STRAHM HERE YES HE IS!” (That’s my genuine reaction when he showed up).

“Perez get your dog on a leash.” (Strahm was being a little asshole).

“Meow.” (Anytime both Hoffman and Strahm are on screen).

“I wanna eat them up.” (Me at Hoffman, and Strahm).

“He’s delulu.” (Talking about Hoffman).

“He’s trululu.” (Talking about Strahm).

“He’s not that bad.” (Talking about Strahm).

“Sorry he sucks sometimes.” (Talking about Hoffman).

“Eat shit asshole, die in a trap.” (Hoffman at Strahm).

“Y’all I’m so cool.” (Me on liking all the apprentices).

“My pookie wookie is trying.” (Me about Hoffman).

“HE NEEDS LOVE!” (Me about Strahm).

“I HOPE YOU ALL DIE.” (Minus Strahm and Hoffman).

“I’m so sorry baby girl..” (Me anytime Strahm is on screen).

“He’s cringe but he’s free.” (Me at Strahm and Hoffman).

“Damn someones salty.” (Angry Hoffman scenes).

“Bro is down bad.” (Strahm investigated Hoffman).

“Y’all this shit is crazy.” (About the traps).

“I’m still mad at hoffman.” (About the trap he put Strahm in).

“Okay what the fuck!” (end of film during Strahms death scene).

I need to watch 6-9 and I’ll make a second post.

I love these films with all my heart and you can definitely tell that my faves are literally every jigsaw apprentice (Including Logan from the later films) and most of the male characters (I.E. Adam and Peter Strahm). I honestly think the first three movies tie in together better than the later movies (seeing as we keep this crazy shit going).

I hope y’all enjoyed reading this shit.

[rehnwriter]

The Wailing of Willow Way

Terrance Brown had always been in love with ghost stories. He would scour our town in search of any and all rumors regarding the supernatural.

Yet, our town was small, tiny even, and its few inhabitants shared nothing resembling even the most normal rumors or urban legends. Ghost stories or hauntings were not something the people concerned themselves with.

One day, however, as I sat with my friend Mark, eating our lunch, Terrance propped himself down next to us. His face was distorted by a never-before-seen serious expression.

“Have you guys heard about the Wailing of Willow Way?” he asked with wide eyes, and almost leaning into our faces.

“The wailing of… what?” I asked, before I took another bite of my sandwich.

“The Wailing of Willow Way!” Terrance repeated in a conspiratorial whisper.

“It says that on certain nights, just past two in the morning, you can hear strange sounds, a wailing down Willow Way. They say it’s the ghost of-“

“Who are they?” Mark cut in, laughing.

By now, the two of us were pretty annoyed by Terrance and the silly stories he tried to spread every other week.

“Old Larry told me about it. He said he saw the ghost himself a few weeks ago.”

“You know that guy’s freaking crazy, right?” Mark asked, half-amused, half-annoyed.

“Look guys, I know he’s crazy, and I know it sounds stupid, but a few nights ago, I went down there and I heard it myself. I swear it!”

“Stop making up stories, Terry,” I mumbled, getting angry.

“Well, why don’t you see for yourself? Bet you guys are too scared, anyway!”

Continue Reading

[w-corp-clerk-anon]

[Aisles Q and sub-aisles under the number 17 are being shut down unthil further notice due to situations out of our control-W corp administration]

Day 3 of the war: Welp, if you read up, we just got a notification for all employees to "Warp" back as soon as possible, so with the guidance of W.P. and the aid of the still standing employees we are evacuating the area and doing a emergency shut down. While going back to our stations we found out that some of our missing employees ended up in a space in-betwen dimensions while trying to teleport away; the place doesn't looks too different than our basement honestly, except for the flesh in the walls.

We also found Larry in there... but with a notable problem, he didn't put anything besides his underwear under that costume, so not only he somehow lost his costume, but he also forgot to put on his uniform today.

There is also another problem, due to recent events, we now have to deal with Paperwork (lots of them), angry costumers, a caged raccoon (we told Aisha to leave them alone, but noooo, she said and i quote -"I always wanted a raccoon"-) and the fact that "Donnie" may or may no had tried to skewer one of the poor things.

As of now, we are currently trying to stabilize the barrier to avoid them from geting out unthil further notices from the higer ups, but for now we have to stop Aisha from releasing the furry beast of apocalypse from it's cage. -"please let me al least interview it to ask the why they went afther us"

-"Aisha, im not your boss, but i also don't want you lose more fingers than the ones you lost today"

Edit: forgot to add but, remember when i said that Aisle Q shutted down yesterday? well turns out that the higers ups decided that it would be TODAY to make the annnouncment official... no wonder why we kept getting more civilians from the other districts unthil now while trying to fight them away -"*Sight*, i need a drink and a change of clothes, good thing we all got told to leave our wallets in our personal safes, but i don't know if the others did the same"

[beetlegoose01]

🧁Chainshipping Week Prompt 1: Cooking/Baking 🧁

Summary: In order to help Diana with her school's fundraiser, Adam and Lawrence must work together to face their hardest challenge yet: baking.

Read on AO3!

"A bake sale?" Adam quiered, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the fire escape, amused as he listened to his partner's plea. 

Lawrence gave him an equally pointed look. Unlike Adam, he was merely poking his head out the window. With his foot or lack thereof, he didn't want to risk stumbling on the rickety platform. "Yes, it's a fundraiser for her school.” 

“She goes to a rich private school, how much money does it actually need?” 

“It’s the principle of working hard for something in return. And it sounds like a sweet idea. Pun not intended.” 

 "No, it sounds like a recipe for disaster." He waited for a moment, before adding belatedly. "Pun intended." 

Lawrence sighed. "I know, I'm not thrilled about it either."

"I can barely microwave ramen, Larry, what makes you think I'm at all qualified to help make something remotely edible for small children?" He pinched the tip of his cigarette between his thumb and index finger before taking a long drag. His eyes lit up. "Wait. Can we add edibles?" 

He pinched the bride of his nose in exasperation. "We are not feeding edibles to fourth graders, Adam!"

"Hey, keep your shirt on, there can be two batches. One for the kids, one for the adults." Smoke swirled around him as he exhaled once more. He only smoked outside, since Lawrence hated it, but sometimes he moved close enough just to mess with him. 

"Will you please be serious?" Lawrence asked wearily, forehead lines creasing from stress. He looked exhausted, both with work and from personal life taking a toll on him. His blond hair was even starting to see some silver streaks in his temple. "I promised Diana."

"Why would you promise her that?" 

He chewed at his lip, thinking for a moment on how to answer. "Ali was usually the hands-on parent. The one who would do this sort of thing. She would go to meetings, host birthday parties, and see her piano recitals. I was always too busy with work. And um, other excuses. I found myself disappointing both Ali and Diana more than once."

Adam frowned, flicking the cigarette on the ashtray. His angry eyes spoke more volume than any words could. 

"But I want to be different for their sake. Give Alison a break, and bond with Diana. Especially since we have her this weekend. I don't know, perhaps it is stupid. I don't know the first thing about bakin---"

"I'll do it." Adam said firmly. 

"What? You will?" Lawrence stared at him in astonishment. "Are you sure?" 

"Hell yeah I am. We'll make the best damn brownies her school has ever tasted." 

"I was thinking we would bake cookies, since they're easier."

"We'll make the best damn cookies her school has ever tasted." 

Lawrence laughed. "Thank you. Now, I should pick her up, speaking of which. Would you mind getting the ingredients while I'm gone?" 

Adam waved him off. "You can count on me. I'm totally prepared---"

"No edibles." 

"Aw."

Adam heard Diana before she even arrived, with her high pitched voice echoing through the halls. The door swung open and lo and behold, she burst in charging at full speed the moment she plopped down her My Little Pony lunch box.

"We're home!" 

"Hey Princess!" He chuckled, lifting her up and twirling her around. He was only able to do this for about three seconds before putting her down again. "Oof. You need to stop growin', kid. My back can't take it."

Diana giggled. "You're just old, Adam." 

Adam put a hand to his heart in faux offense. "Ouch. You wound me." he teased, poking at her nose. 

"Sorry, it's just the truth, and I gotta be honest."

"Huh, can't argue with that. Speaking of old, where's your Dad?" 

"Coming!" Lawrence called out. In typical Dad fashion, he was carrying Diana's backpack and handling his cane. Though he tried not to show it, he was clearly struggling to manage both, as judging by his limp being more obvious. Immediately Adam rushed to his partner's side, taking the backpack off his hands, hanging it up on the hook. 

"Diana, don't forget to take your shoes off." As she was about to do so, he said, "and don't kick them off, please." Begrudgingly she obliged and unbuckled them right next to the closed door. 

"I didn't have a good day at school today." She said, shuffling towards the couch and flopping on it. Adam made a note of her mismatched socks, one rainbow, the other blue with puppies. 

"Aw no, what happened?" He asked, to both Lawrence and Diana. Last week they both heard from Alison that she had been repeatedly picked on by a bully named Brayden. They had spoken to the school and the parents, so he was hoping the little shit wasn't causing her any more grief. Otherwise he would have to resort to violence. 

Diana made a face. "We had to do fractions." 

Adam winced, pulling the exact same expression of disgust as Diana. "Ugh, man. I hated fractions when I was your age. Useless, if you ask me. In fact, I promise you that you won't use fractions anywhere except for school." 

"That's not true," Lawrence interjected, handing Diana a plate of apple slices from the kitchen, which she happily started to devour. "Fractions are important, honey." 

Diana didn't look convinced, but she nodded. "Can we watch SpongeBob before I do my homework?" 

"Actually..." He said with a shared smile at Adam. "We have a surprise for you in the kitchen." 

She gasped. "For real life?!" 

"Ye---" But before either of them could tell her what the surprise was, she sprinted into the kitchen and let out a squeal. Together (although Lawrence hobbled behind a bit) they discovered Diana rummaging through the grocery bags. Adam had bought regular stuff: sugar, butter, flour, salt; he also took the liberty of buying all sorts of confectionary decorations. The latter of which Diana was more invested in: sprinkles, silver balls, icing, chocolate chips, walnuts and little candies. 

"Can we bake now?!" She begged. "PleasepleasePLEASE!"

Lawrence nodded. "Alright, let's get cracking." 

As expected, Diana did little to help with the baking. After helping crack a singular egg, she scampered off to watch cartoons while Adam and Lawrence attempted to follow the recipe to the book. Mostly Lawrence, since Adam was rather distracted, despite being in charge of the dry ingredients. 

"Don't forget to add salt."

"I won't."

"But not too much salt."

"Yeah, yeah."

Lawrence had successfully combined the wet and dry ingredients into one bowl, but it was hard to celebrate when all he could focus on was Adam staring at him dreamily. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his strong arms, and it was impossible not to look.  

"Do I have something on my face?" 

"You do."  

Automatically Lawrence started to touch his cheek, and in that moment had taken the bait, Adam flung some flour into the air, swirls of dust hitting Lawrence right in the face, and in his hair. 

"Don't worry, I gotcha." He used his fingers to brush it with a cloth. With a cheeky grin, he moved over to bump Lawrence's hip, sliding his hand over to graze it slightly. 

Lawrence, though startled, accepted the affection by pulling him closer, combing his hand through a mop of messy dark hair and tracing his fingers against the man's jawline. Adam took this as an invitation to make another move, heart aflutter as he finally pressed his lips against Lawrence's, at last closing the gap between them. He took this opportunity to slip some tongue in, a soft moan escaping him as he reached for Lawrence's belt----only for the latter to pull away. 

"Not in the kitchen!" He hissed, cheeks flushed. "Are you out of your mind?" 

"S' not my fault." He whined.  "You're so fucking sexy when you roll your sleeves up."

"Need I remind you that we are not alone?" He warned, waving his finger. 

"It was just a kiss."

Lawrence snorted at his attempt at innocence. "Just get the mixer out, please." 

Adam rolled up his own sleeves as if nothing happened. "You got it! We'll continue this later." 

"Diana, honey, would you like to sprinkle some chocolate chips in?" He asked, ruffling her hair fondly.

Diana squealed,. "Yes!"

"Ready kiddo?" Adam said, preparing to open the oven with Diana by his side. 

"Ready!" 

A blast of hot air hit them at once, smelling of sweet chocolate goodness as they reached inside to retrieve the pan of cookies. To their delight, they looked absolutely delicious. They were crispy, but not burnt. Fluffy, but not too soft. Round with the perfect chocolate chip to cookie ratio, they couldn't have looked better. 

After they let the cookies cool off, Diana was practically bouncing with excitement. "Can we decorate them?" 

"Maybe we should taste them first?" Lawrence suggested, already cautious.

"Man come on, they look amazing! And they probably taste amazing too!" 

But when they each took a bite out of the smallest three cookies, they promptly spat them out in unision.

"Eeeew it's salty!" Diana said.

"Mine has a weird salty after taste too," Lawrence tilted his head. "Adam, how much salt did you add?" 

"Uuuuhhh..." 

"Adam." 

"It might have been a bit more than I should have." He admitted. "But it's not that bad---" He took another bite, forcing himself not to gag. "Oh God, thisissogross. I mean, wow! So good." Wiping his mouth, he said, "Yeah, no I wouldn't feed this to my worst enemy. What do we do now?" 

"Box mix?" Diana piped up.

"Box mix." Lawrence and Adam agreed. 

As it would turn out, Pillsbury Cookie Dough tastes just as good as homemade.