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delululand · 6 months

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hi could u pls do txts turn ons + offs in a partner ?? tysm <33

hiii and sorry for long answer, it’s here~ hope you enjoy it~

txt turn ons + offs

I wasn't sure how you wanted this to be, so it has some mentions of NSFW content, but not a lot

soobin

turn ons: i talked about this before, but I think he's really into the cute type and we all know how he likes anime (does he watch hentai? idk but guess yes) and this got me thinking about whiney girls. it's a little hard to explain it completely, but his love for anime (and a shit that's in hentai)+his love for cute types+some aegyo type in korea, which isn't considered weird like it is for people living in europe and america, it all comes together such vibrations… so i guess groaning, moaning, whining it’s really his turn ons (but not too louder? hahaha I just immediately remember how he always “shhhh🤫” beomgyu when he starts being noisy)

and also being call some pet names? he’ll really like it

turn offs: okay i really think one of the biggest turn offs for him is degradation and any form of rudeness. he mentioned so much time that he prefer cute vibe and I really think that this extends to how he is in bed. I see him as a soft guy and if someone (especially his partner) were rude to him, even if during sex, it would most likely surprise and upset

and also just dishonesty, deceit and some shit like that

yeonjun

turn ons: I want to write so many things but I remember one of his live where he said something like "the way you perceive me seems a little distorted. off screen, my and soobin's personalities exchange". he didn't specify what exactly he was talking about or what part of his personality it was about, but it pops into my head every time I think of him. maybe it's a bit of a distorted perception, but can I really see him in something like a partially toxic relationship? I'm not talking about abuse or anything like that and I don't mean this in a bad way, but I think he would be interested in a relationship with some game?

it's like that girl who looks like an arrogant bitch (but she's actually nice) and she gives him mixed signals, secret dates and everything seems obvious, but no one says anything out loud and all that

it’s like 밀당 (밀고 당기기) this is a very popular thing in korea and literally means “push and pull”, first a person devotes a lot of time to the person he likes and flirts, and then pretends that he is not particularly interested in order to attract attention to himself

p.s. for my personal opinion it’s a strange shit, but a lot of people really into it

turn offs: this may sound a little contradictory, but actual arrogance and bad treatment of people? it's one thing to have arrogant bitch vibes, but to be a kind person, but to actually be an arrogant bitch is something else entirely

controlling and obsessive behavior (in a bad way) like I really see that if his partner was jealous of him, he would be flattered and he would take this situation into flirtation, but if his partner tried to control him 24/7, constantly wrote and called with questions about where and with whom he is, this would greatly alienate him

beomgyu

turn ons: ohhh that guy… firstly it’s catching his vibe? he has a specific sense of humor and it would be important to be on the same wave with him in general, but he also makes “suggestive jokes” most often and he’s the biggest dirty minder of all members. so one of his turn ons is someone who could not only take his jokes well, but also be able to answer him in the same manner and actually i think this boy reaaaally into dirty talks

turn offs: first of all I think it has two sides: 1. not taking his jokes and being sarcastic in a bad way (like not making jokes pretending that he is annoying because he would like that, but on the contrary answering rudely or something like that) and 2. not taking him seriously. yes, he is really funny and jokes a lot, but he also has feelings and would like to be able to talk about it seriously, discuss different topics with his partner and know that he will be understood and accepted

taehyun

turn ons: first, he’s really a smart guy and i think intelligent conversation and debate it’s one of his turn ons. but also an even bigger turn on is when he explains something to you? something like you ask him how this or that thing works and he tells you the story of how and why it works the way it does and the moment you nod at him with eyes full of interest his dick literally twitches in his pants.

secondly, he said he's not the type to take initiative (especially in showing affection) because of fear, so if someone had the courage to be more proactive it would touch his heart. like you know for example you're still at the just friends stage and you link arm in arm when you're crossing the road, lightly stroke his back when you hug him or put your hand and lean on his lap when you're sitting next to him and laugh. these actions are simple and innocent enough, but would literally drive him crazy

turn offs: total pessimism and whining all the time. everyone has problems at some point and it's fine if a person wants to get support and share it with someone, but I'm talking about people who literally whine 24/7 about everything and don't want to solve problems. does he really seem a little cruel about it? like he'd have no problem supporting you if something happened and helping you as long as it took, but he wouldn't coddle someone who's infantile and can't solve the slightest problem on his own

huening kai

turn ons: watching and discussing anime with him, don’t ask me why, i just feel so hahaha

paying attention to the smaller things that demonstrate true thoughtfulness and kindness and compassion towards others. he is sooo cute, kind and caring person and he'd really appreciate it if his partner showed the right attitude towards other people.

and also being able to show affection openly, giving him words of encouragement, praise and all of that

turn offs: ignorance and intolerance, too self-centeredness, i wrote about it above and I think it just goes against his values in life and what he might like

and also being closed off and emotionally unavailable like. he has a hard showing his feelings and if his partner is even more closed off, they just won't connect?

p.s. i would also be very interested to hear your opinion on this topic, maybe you have something to add?

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donnerpartyofone · 1 year

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I keep thinking about how I went to a going away party for this person I really like a couple of weeks ago, and it was the first and only time I saw her doing something really unimpressive. We used to have this neighbor between us who was a really sweet person that my husband and I would visit with; she had lived sort of a hard life and, I only realized later, was struggling with addiction. I used to give her asthma inhalers from my prescription because she didn't have health insurance, and sometimes I shared food that we cooked. She did the flowers for my wedding, and more than that, she heroically took control when things suddenly turned chaotic the morning-of; she saw that it was getting late and I was spiraling, took over for me, and did everything but carry me to a cab. But anyway I'm at this going away thing for my friend, where she was hanging out with this other woman who had a really bad vibe. For some reason the woman started asking in this insinuating tone if I knew the old neighbor while she and my friend exchanged these cagey looks like they were sharing a joke. I said of course, I mean we're not extremely close, but why? And they wouldn't quite come out with whatever they were obviously thinking, even when I tried to encourage them to speak frankly because they were being so fucking weird. They seemed to want to say something specific but never did. Instead, the bad-vibes woman then asked if I also knew the neighbor's live-in boyfriend--of course I did, they've been devoted to each other for many years--and then she suggested that the neighbor was also fucking their roommate at the time. I said I wasn't aware of anything like that, but like...ok? And?? Then she implied, in this insulting tone, that drugs were dealt out of that apartment, which I thought was a weird thing to throw shade about because Ms. Bad-Vibes's own boyfriend is an actual drug dealer and it's not a secret. Eventually this asshole got around to noting that the neighbor and her boyfriend had moved away for several months, and recently moved back to a different neighborhood; she seemed to know that the couple had gone to rehab because there was all this side-eye and snickering between the asshole and my friend whose going away party this was. In between all these inuendoes they kept repeating, "But like, you KNOW (the neighbor), right? She's your friend?", like they were trying to find out if they could talk shit to me, and then they just kinda talked shit anyway without fully saying whatever the hell they obviously really wanted to say. Eventually they just pretended to be curious about what she's up to now, which they clearly didn't care about, and it was so gross. I'm not good at confrontations anyway but I really didn't know what to do because it was this girl's going away thing, I really like her, and I had never seen her act this way before. I wanted to say hey, what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you letting this woman turn you into an asshole? I'm ashamed that I didn't say, I have no idea if our neighbors had a sex thing with their roommate, sounds like it was their business if they wanted to do that and I hope they had fun. And yeah, my neighbor and her long-term, committed boyfriend went into rehab together. They needed to, to save their lives, which is what it always means when someone goes to rehab, and they're doing well now. May it never have to happen to you.

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salemoleander · 1 year

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VERY interested in creator commentary for the 3rd life webweave (seriously one of the coolest things ive seen made in this fandom, its gorgeously edited AND very funny AND the quotes themselves are all knock-your-socks off material. That Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Line Holy Shit)

Okay so first off THANK YOU that's super kind! It's nerve-wracking posting graphic design that is reconstituted from other sources, bc I've seen it perceived as a 'lazy' or unskilled format, so this is really really encouraging to hear.

I am not a concise person, which is why this has taken so long! I realized as I was initially responding that I was trying to dive into three separate topics:

The actual process I follow, my tips + tricks on making web weaves

Analysis of my 3rd Life web weave

My philosophy towards web weaves and collage as an art form

Only one of those is the question you actually asked, so #2 is what I'll be talking about in this post! However, I am working on a video overview of the other topics, because I think they're worth exploring - I will obviously post that on this blog once it's done.

To avoid jumpscaring anyone with a wall of text, I've thrown my commentary under a readmore.

The one takeaway I'll mention before we dive in is if anyone has a character/narrative web weave request, please hit me up! I have so many I'm working on, having a next topic suggestion is super helpful to narrow things down.

General Creation Comments

I am At All Times collecting images, so it's only a matter of time until I make a webweave for a group/ concept/ person:

(My phone storage is Certainly being utilized. Also I will never be free of making these.)

It just so happened that my Third Life folder filled up fastest/ felt like it was in a good balance to work with, so that's what I started with!

I try to use a mix of text and images, and both serious and funny stuff. Even at its most serious the Life Series is also funny, and it's important to reflect that!

That said, if you compare the jokes I've picked in this piece vs the void falling web weave, you'll notice the jokes on this one trend sharper. The 'How to Detect Misery' and 'How to Tell if it's Over' memes (both from @thatsbelievable, who is a GREAT source of web weave content) are morbidly funny. Surviving horrific circumstances, preparing to suffer, unimaginable violence, eroticism and death, covered in blood - all of the jokes are violent.

As I go, I weed out posts that don't fit, or (mostly) prune text posts out. Too much text ruins the flow, and I LOVE words so I tend to have too much writing and not enough art.

3rd life had only a few things that didn't make the cut, bc I was fairly judicious as I added to that folder, but these were scrapped:

As I added the posts I knew I wanted and split them between panels, I naturally started seeing a 'flow' from early game biomes/bases and the more tender pairings, into violence + devotion, and then ending in.. something. I wasn't sure what I wanted the end to be yet.

I ran out of posts, and knew I needed Wayyy more images to offset the text, so I went looking through the Smithsonian's excellent collection of CC0-licensed art!

That's where I found the Perfect Image - that last picture of the red angel laid low. I knew immediately that it needed to be most of the final scene, with very little obscuring or distracting from it.

Okay, diving into specific panel analysis!

Panel One

It's the beginning, so everything is still fairly light - lots of brown and green tones.

The summary (imo) is that every faction in 3rd Life is in different stories!

Grian and Scar are playing cowboys, an old Western style narrative where they're beholden to each other, out to get the Bad Guys (even if objectively they're the ones being violent little instigators).

Flower Husbands are a greek fucking tragedy, Jimmy's sudden loss and Scott in mourning, trying to cause as much destruction as possible before the gods knock him down too.

Dogwarts are a middle English story of fealty and homosocial bonds and dying for honor.

And the Crastle is like. Shakespeare or Arthur Miller or Stoppard. They are in a theater, they are playing with all of the narratives. Too aware of the trajectory they're on, and entirely unable to stop it.

The images on the first page are the four primary pairings in 3rd Life - top left, in the background of the 'How to Detect Misery' meme, is the desert. The sudden punchline of that meme felt like a good starting point - a creeper-blast of a joke.

The pair to the right represent Scott and Jimmy. I liked the Impressionist and classic myth-inspired stylization. Also, the toga blended near-seamlessly into the desert hill so it looked almost like a wing, implying a tie to angels as well as foreshadowing Jimmy's death AND Scott's partnership with Grian/Scar.

Up in the top right-hand corner is a little Crastle, and the pair embracing on the right side of the page are Bdubs and Cleo. The red hair fit, but it was the old-fashioned clothing and sense of finality that I really liked.

On the left is Dogwarts - Ren and Martyn. I wanted an image that had a very different style, as they were opposed to desert duo + everyone else. I felt the sketchy ink stood out and elicited ideas of worn vellum paper. It felt like a sketch you'd discover sitting in a chest of a long-worn-down enchanting room.

There's a forest and a mostly-occluded castle in the background art on page one, also meant to represent Dogwarts. That forest bleeds into the next page, where the violence really begins.

Panel Two

We've started with a forest, but it's darker than the last one, and wilder.

Bursts of red stand out violently on the page.

'Fallen Angel' is a classic for emotionally fraught blorboposting! There are many, Many Mountain Goats songs that fit, but the way a-doctor-not-a-fangirl paired this line with this painting was striking to me. In particular, I like how 'getting revenge' was something that drove most of 3rd Life, even though Red Lives (come unhinged) were meant to be the driving force of violence. They weren't supposed to have bonds, they weren't supposed to have allies! But it's the bonds that drove the violence.

The 'I heart eroticism and death' cut-out plopped onto the collage was intended to feel like a kind of cheesy tourist stamp - 'I killed my friends in horrible death games and all I got was this lousy t-shirt' vibes.

The 'First off' comment feels like the illogical thought proces all of the doomed players (so, all of the players) were following - "if I just do well enough at murder, this will all be over."

The 'moments of grace' image is probably my most indulgent addition. I wanted a softer, quiet nod to the good parts, to the fun and the joy in between the violence. In particular, the dawn breaking on waves reminded me of the short span Grian and Scar spent tensely placing TNT under sand in the desert. I imagine silent cooperation and the sussuration of sand on sand, and quiet for just a few minutes.

'It's better to know how to let others unmask you and to endure the rule of the game' means: if you are too good, if you survive long enough, you will end up alone. This is about Bdubs and Cleo - kings of roleplay, of being a little overeager and dying for it and getting a mercifully quick ending. It is also about the cactus ring.

Panel Three

The centerpiece of this page is 'G-d's Idea', the beautiful abstract painting of a blood-soaked angel. It makes me insane every time I see it. Grim reaper in mourning kinda guy

I wanted to do something to tie more directly to the end, but didn't want to pull a disembodied-face-in-90s-grad-photo approach to add Scar. So I found a drawing that looked like the Monopoly Mountain build, and carefully added it onto one wing. I really really like this as an addition, it is probably my favorite combination in this post.

The Anne Carson quote is obvs in Minecraft font - I also split up the lines, so that the left and right side loosely create their own sentences/ideas. "There is a theory that watching other people is good for you" and "Unbearable stories may cleanse you of your darkness." I wish I had been more careful with the contrast on 'yourself all', but oh well, we can just call it being difficult to read an experiential facet of the poem.

"Do you want to go down to the pits of yourself all alone?" is a good fucking line, and manages to mirror both the commentary on us the viewers AND the experience of the creators AND the experience of the characters. We get to experience violence vicariously, the creators get to experience it with friends + in safety, and the characters (or character, I should say, just Grian left by the time you're reading this) are experiencing that low point totally alone.

Aside from the obvious fit, the Rosencrantz + Guildenstern lines stand in as a conversation between the viewers and the characters. The appraising description of kiling and dying beautifully makes way for a mournful interruption that no, fuck that, this isn't a game for us (with some obvious irony there).

Finally, I needed it to end funny; the whole thing is already more serious than it probably should've been. I like this joke because it's short, and it implies the aftermath in a comedic way. Picturing everyone spawning back into Hermitcraft, covered in blood, upset, but mostly with a profoundly awkward sense of 'well I fucked that one up. That got a bit more homoerotic than intended, and now every other shopping trip I have to make awkward eye contact with the person I mcMurdered."

Again, thank you so much for your ask and kind words! I'm looking forward to making a general guide video on web weaves one of these days :D

#salem tag #salem chatter #3lsmp #3lsmp meta #i am going to go pass out but i hope some of this is what you were hoping to hear about lol #salem answer

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loregoddess · 9 months

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9, 10, 12, 20, and 21 for the octo ask game!

Heads up for those who haven't played the game, there are spoilers galore bc endgame stuff had me going insane in a good way. (Also I once more got carried away chatting so uh, under the cut for length and spoilers)

9. Favorite build for [character]? Hmm, overall I felt like Octo2 was much more flexible with how the secondary classes worked, and I wasn't like, devoted to having any one character in a specific class, but I really enjoyed using Arcanist Temenos to make optimal use of the Sunshade Staff and definitely for no other reason at all (jokes aside, using the dancer divine ability on Arcanist Temenos means he can use Prayer for Plenty one turn to boost everyone potentially up to 9999 hp, and then use Reflective Barrier the next turn to bounce magic off the team and it is SUCH a satisfying combo to use).

10. Favorite town? Oh probably Wellgrove, it just had such a nice atmosphere (ignoring the Blacksnake orphanage) even if the music ended up stuck in my head for a week. But I really liked Montwise, Canalbrine, and Conning Creek too.

12. Favorite travel banter? All? Of them? Do I have to choose? No okay, you know the one I think about way more than I should is Ochette and Temenos's travel banter during his Ch.3 at Crackridge in the Fellsun Ruins like, man, I know Ochette kinda gets written off as this silly and naïve character a lot, but I 100% believe she's actually probably one of the most intelligent characters, like just for being able to navigate several cultures that are entirely different from her own and the linguistics involved with all that. BUT also bc she's actually really emotionally intelligent, she's always in tune with how the other travelers are feeling and like, this really shows with all her banters with Temenos but like, in their Crackridge banter specifically she's able to figure out that he's really unsettled and disturbed by basically everything that's happening that chapter (never mind the fact that you can play Crackridge after Stormhail), and just, generally not in the best place emotionally bc he's also still dealing with the grief of loosing Jorg, but like, this is Temenos, the guy who several people note wears a mask 24/7, who never wears his heart on his sleeve bc it's locked away in a box behind several very tall and sturdy walls, and yet Ochette is not only able to pick up on the fact that the mural in the ruins (on top of everything else) makes him upset, but she also figures out the best way to cheer him up a little without overstepping his boundaries and like. GAH IT DRIVES ME CRAZY BC AGAIN THIS IS TEMENOS WHO IS SO PRIVATE ABOUT EVERYTHING but Ochette's still able to read him, still able to know what he's feeling, like damn. Ochette is amazing and I love them both so much, and also it's a really cute banter and somehow it doesn't feel like it takes away from the weight and darkness of everything about Crackridge and the Fellsun Ruins, despite being much more lighthearted than, y'know, everything. Yeah.

20. A moment that gave you chills (or you just found creepy)? Hmm, for "this was really unsettling" reading all of Ori's Diaries was just. Damn. Like I had been spoiled on her being part of the Moonshade Order beforehand but I couldn't wrap my mind around how that was supposed to make any sense bc like, she's so cheery every time we see her till that point, and then reading those journals was just like--everything made perfect sense suddenly, but in the most tragic, horrific way possible. I was so relieved to find out she lived in the end, bc again damn. I love Ori so much, and she deserves a break and a happier life.

For just creepy, there's this little girl NPC who stands outside the Crackridge Inn at nighttime, staring at the inn, but if you try to talk to her she just runs off towards the ruins. If you follow her into the next screen she won't be there. There doesn't seem to be any explanation for this girl, and I spent a good hour or so collectively trying to figure out what her deal was. Considering that this is in the same town as the man who talks to a dead tree as if it were his wife, and Crackridge is also just south of Gravell home to the terrifying "stuffed toy" that did not vanish from that boy's inventory after I got the Sunshade Staff, I'm thinking the Wildlands are just outright haunted and should be avoided as a place to live permanently. How Paritio's family ended up in the only normal town in that area is beyond me.

21. A moment that made you laugh out loud (or you just found funny)? Partitio offering to strip for some random man he'd just met. Also Pala's incredibly messy attempts to flirt with Mikka which somehow worked? Pala: "Hey you can come be my wife. Haha, just kidding...unless?" GIRL HOW??? Veronica and Dolcinaea being disaster lesbians was also hilarious. Honestly for as dark as this game can get, there's a lot of really good, silly bits in it too, so I'm forgetting all sorts of stuff I know I laughed at.

#beantothemax #ask game #I still don't have an ask tag #sorry for going on about Ochette so much I just Love Her A Lot and don't talk about it ever but I legit think she's amazing #I don't actually talk about a lot of the Octo2 stuff that's just rotating in my head but like #there are so many thoughts #the game is so good and I love so many characters so much

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jackson--t · 3 years

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🎃 Spooktober 🎃

Bloody Boneless - Pt. I

Welcome to my favourite time of the year and my month of spooky stuff! I will create some short spooky stories - if you want to join me, feel free to tag me! 🎃

Summary: Heahmund talks about old sagas and legends in his classes - and tries one game out for himself at home. With a frightening result that makes his blood run cold...

Words: 2.6 k (AO3? Here.)

Spooky Friends (so far): @youbloodymadgenius @jadelynlace (if you want to be tagged, feel free to send me a DM or stuff!) 🖤

Heahmund looked around at his students and grinned a little; his bright eyes wandered over the curious eyes of the teens, who were all talking; some were already coming forward to share their ideas and stories.

It was October, and it wasn't long until Halloween; Heahmund had specifically chosen the last history lessons to get into a little spooky subject matter, about ghosts and folklore, about old tales and myths, and things you'd tell yourself if you wanted to scare someone. Outside, the rain pattered against the window, and the class had been decked out in autumnal red for several weeks, decorated with collected leaves and chestnuts. Heahmund grinned for a moment, then pointed to a student.

"Anna?"

"When I was a child, my mother told me that witches could be found in many bushes and along roadsides. We had a bush in our backyard back then, and it was so opaque that you could only ever make out black structures that looked so spooky..."

"And you must have been afraid of it?" Heahmund said, and Anna nodded.

"Who knows any more sagas? Does anyone maybe know games that involve old Halloween traditions?" Heahmund asked to the group, and several students came forward.

"Tim."

"My big sister once got a Ouija board with her friends on Halloween, and they... tried to call a dead friend through the board. They've never touched it since. She told me things moved around the room and the lights suddenly went out," Tim recounted; several girls in the room looked at each other aghast and began whispering excitedly, while Heahmund pressed his lower back against the desk.

"Stories like that scare you, of course, but it can also be fantasy. There are so many ancient legends and customs that, because of their history, already grasp the origins of fear. For example, the superstition that you should never look in the mirror at the stroke of midnight," he explained, and the teenagers fell silent; they looked at their history teacher intently.

"Why not?" Irina asked, and Heahmund grinned slightly.

"They say it makes you see your inner monster, or your inner witch. There are various games you can try in the dark, but they mostly play with your seventh sense, or simply your perception. The basic idea of fear plays a central role in this. Does anyone know of anything else?"

It took a moment, but then suddenly, quite hesitantly, a finger lifted from the back row; Heahmund's eyes met the shy Natalie, who always spoke very little, even though she had good grades. The others did not like her so much; however, to Heahmund she was a nice girl who was just a little quiet. He nodded to her with a smile; she looked around shyly, then said softly, "You told us once about the Vikings, and about their age. I know a saga about it."

Heahmund raised his eyebrows; he had always loved the subject of Vikings and didn't even know until now that there were customs here, too - or at least ghost stories that the young people told each other. "Really? Ah, very nice! Of course, when someone includes real history, it's always exciting. Tell us more, Nathalie!"

Nathalie hesitated for a moment; her fingers buried in her sweater.

"You told us about Ragnar Lothbrok and his sons back then. And I know a... legend. It says that at the stroke of midnight you are supposed to stand in front of the mirror, and if you... well, if you say Bloody Boneless three times, the Viking tyrant Ivar the Boneless will appear in the mirror."

Heahmund felt a slight chill run down his spine; he had gone over the subject very carefully with the students, and he was fascinated by how much had stuck with her; he looked at her for a moment, then asked, "Have you ever tried it?"

She shook her head vigorously. "No, I wouldn't do it either. The stories about him are too scary for me."

"With Bloody Mary, after all, the legend goes much the same way, except she pokes your eyes out. What do you think Ivar the Boneless does, Nathalie?" Heahmund said; the class watched intently as Nathalie bit her lower lip softly.

"They say that he... that he kills you. With an object he finds on you." she whispered; for a moment, icy chills ran through the class, and the abrupt ringing of the bell elicited a cry from some; Heahmund laughed.

"All's well, we'll see each other again on Wednesday. Until then, please read up on the customs about the Salem Witches' Night and do assignment 10 on it."

Heahmund waited until the class was completely empty; he smiled at the students, then scratched his chin lightly. Ghost stories, what nonsense. Of course, he knew none of these things were true; even though he loved seeing the shocked faces of the teenagers.

Bloody Boneless, what a nonsense....

§---§---§

It was late in the evening when Heahmund stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom; for a moment he looked at his dark hair, and then got his toothbrush ready. The clock on his shelf showed just before midnight; so, he still had some time.

Something on the back of his neck prickled as he brushed his teeth and walked slowly up and down the hallway; the rain was still casting gloomy shadowy shapes on the windows in his house, and the wind was clearly audible. If he wasn't mistaken, he had also heard a thunderstorm coming from a safe distance - a terribly cozy autumn night that he was about to end with a good book in his bed. Yet he still carried his student's words from today in his ear; that strange story about Ivar the Boneless.

Heahmund had devoted much of his studies to the Viking field, and it was still his favorite part of history. Perhaps he could joke with the children and pretend that the story about the mirror was true. He was sure that the teenagers - at least a couple of them - would not be able to sleep for nights if Heahmund continued Nathalie's story. He grunted softly in amusement before standing back in the bathroom and washing out his mouth.

When he lifted his head, the clock read 11:59 p.m., and Heahmund fixed his bright eyes on the mirror; his own reflection was staring back at him, albeit still with a somewhat wet beard. As the digital clock read midnight, Heahmund exhaled deeply. His hands clawed tightly into the porcelain of the basin, and he said softly in his deep voice:

"Bloody Boneless."

Once, and the rain whipped harder against the window; it was nothing unusual, for the storm had been predicted. Heahmund snorted softly; he felt a little crazy and silly, but he took another breath and said:

"Bloody Boneless."

Far away in the dark of the night there was a low rumbling; but the storm was still too far away for Heahmund to hear it clearly. Nothing happened; Heahmund grinned slightly at his own image in the mirror, and then quietly muttered a third:

"Bloody Boneless."

It happened all of a sudden; the lights in the bathroom began to flicker all at once, and with a ripping thunderclap, it abruptly went dark; just once, the light of the bathroom mirror still flickered on, causing Heahmund to let out a scream.

For a millisecond, the gruesomely contorted face of an angry young man had appeared in it, that undoubtedly belonged to Ivar the Boneless. But the lights came back on, and Heahmund stared perplexedly into the mirror; his hands trembled, and he wore white marks on his knuckles, so tightly had he clutched at the basin. When his bright eyes fell on the mirror again, he could see only his own face in it. No trace of that grimace.

Heahmund exhaled deeply and ran his hand over his forehead, shivering slightly; it was just as he himself had said in his lessons: the brain knew it was seeing something, and imagined it. The thunder had been a coincidence, of course, and had contributed to that brief anxiety -but it had been a horrible experience.

"Amazing, a brain like that.", Heahmund muttered to himself, slightly breathless, before turning off the bathroom light and turning towards the hallway. Just for a brief moment, for the fragile blink of an eye, he imagined that he saw a black, crooked shadow in the mirror that clearly could not belong to him. But it could just have been the shower curtain.

Heahmund hurried to get to the bedroom; the mirrors in the hallway suddenly didn't seem so trustworthy, especially since a bright flash additionally illuminated the hallway. Heahmund had never really been the fearful type; never. He didn't believe in ghosts and stories; he believed in the measurable reality of people. But this experience had given even him a deep goose bump on the back of his neck that he couldn't shake off. When he arrived in the bedroom, he closed the door behind him; the hallway was silent, however, as he took one last look inside before turning out the light there as well.

He had another mirror in the bedroom that he had a good view of; normally he loved it, especially for certain evenings; but now a strange feeling came over him. He looked at the mirror slightly critically, and yet decided against taking it down - he wasn't that anxious now. Everything was explainable, really everything. The blackout, the flickering, even his hallucination. There was nothing to worry about or be afraid of.

He turned on the small light on his nightstand and leaned back against the end of the bed; he covered himself lightly and began reading his book. He loved this atmosphere while reading; there was a storm outside, and he was inside with a book in a warm bed, and he didn't even have to get up early tomorrow, since he didn't have class until the last period. He enjoyed such evenings very much; only sometimes he felt lonely.

The house was only blanketed by the sound of rain and thunderstorms; however, as Heahmund was turning a page, his eyes caught something out of the corner of his eye. It was a dark movement, a quick, barely visible movement, but it shot up the back of Heahmund's neck so quickly and tinglingly that he could not have imagined it.

His gaze went up to the mirror; it was still standing there motionless, and nothing but the room was reflected in it; this weather was playing tricks on his eyes, he was sure of it. And those damn children's stories. He shouldn't have done that shit with the mirror.

Heahmund averted his eyes again; he continued to read in silence when suddenly he heard an unfamiliar noise - it sounded like something hitting the ground sharp and hard, like some kind of knife or axe; but it was almost too heavy for that. Heahmund raised his head and stared around the room, but he could see nothing; yet he could have sworn that this strange sound had come directly from his room. He wrinkled his nose slightly; the sound appeared again, only this time it was ten times louder. And it was almost as if a dark shadow was creeping out from under the doorframe....

Heahmund jumped out of bed. Maybe it was a burglar! He went towards the door, saw exactly the strange shadows on the wooden floor, which looked as if someone with crutch was standing in front of the door - his neck tingled wildly, and he suppressed the fantasy in his head - when with a sudden movement he tore open the door.

"Ha!" he cried; but there was no one in the hall. Heahmund stared open-mouthed into the hallway, and then at the floor - the shadow was gone. He took a deep breath in and out, as he closed the door behind him with a soft sound. He needed to calm down, his imagination was starting to run away with him. It was nothing more than a scary fairy tale that teenagers told each other at their Halloween parties.

When he turned around, however, his body suddenly froze.

He couldn't move an inch even if he wanted to; his muscles seemed frozen, frozen like an icy body in deepest winter. His mouth was slightly open, and yet neither words nor air came out to breathe; for his bright eyes fell on the mirror.

There, in jet-black leather armor, leaning on a pointed, metal crutch, stood a young man with the brightest, bluest eyes Heahmund had ever encountered. He simply stood there in the mirror, no one in front of it, staring motionless in Heahmund's direction; his dark hair was braided in Viking splendor, and his face revealed that he had been through a lot; a small but legendary scar adorned the young man's face.

It took a while for Heahmund's body to release its rigidity; he took a deep shocked breath, and stared in disbelief at the image in the mirror. It was as if frozen; the young Viking in it did not move a bit, but only stared stubbornly in Heahmund's direction. It looked like a statue; Heahmund dared to come a little closer and walked with slow steps towards the large mirror.

A flash of lightning lit up the room, and the rumble of thunder gave the whole thing an impossibly creepy atmosphere. Although Heahmund's body was wrapped in icy cold and thick goose bumps, he walked forward until he was standing right in front of the mirror; the young man was a little shorter than him and stood slightly bent over by his crutch. But he did not move, not even when Heahmund touched the cold pane of the mirror with a slight swallow.

"You're not real. This isn't real. I'm dreaming.", Heahmund muttered darkly; the mirror felt normal, and nothing moved except for the flashes in the background.

It had to be a bad joke. Maybe someone had traded his mirror for a TV? Maybe this was a show? Those damn kids...

Heahmund hissed softly as he looked around the room; but he could see no cameras in the corners, and no feet or anything behind the curtains. There was nothing there...

He turned his gaze back to the mirror; still the young man stood there, but his eyes had changed direction. They were staring Heahmund right in the face now, and Heahmund had to swallow hard against his own horrible fear. He took his fingers away from the cool glass, and stared at the Viking as well.

"You are not real, Ivar the Boneless," Heahmund said darkly.

And suddenly, with the bright light of a flash of lightning and the cruel, violent thunder of the thunderstorm close by, he moved; the face moved jerkily, and his jaw cracked slightly before bright white teeth showed, looking almost like sharp knives in the flash of the thunderstorm; the corners of the young man's mouth lifted, and the bright eyes stared at him like the devil's face made flesh.

„dauði, Kristr.“ A high-pitched, strangely soft, yet scratchy voice shattered the silence of the bedroom, mixed with cruel cracking sounds; and Heahmund froze to ice again.

He took a shaking step back, but his eyes caught perfectly how the pointed end of the crutch pressed against the mirror from inside, and a thousand shards suddenly pattered on the floor; and with a firm and sweeping pulling motion, Ivar the Boneless pulled himself out of the mirror, incarnate.

„dauði, Kristr.“ - "Die, Christian." (correct me if it's wrong!)

#vikings #ivar the boneless #fanfic #ivar lothbrok #spooktober #spooky #heahmund

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dean-winchesters-gardian-angel · 3 years

Text

The Same Bed - Chapter 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Friends are there to help each other out, but can they help falling for each other when all the long days they spend together turn into late nights they have and their reliance on each other.

Word count: 2675

Warnings: Fluff, angst, slow burn.

A/N: This is probably my favourite chapter so I hope you like it. Read it, enjoy it and I’ll see you on the other side. There’s also a tag list, so be sure to tell me if you want in, as well as a masterlist so be sure to give that a look if your short and content. Like the rest, unbeta’d all mistakes are mine.

Series masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam was jolted from his restful position at his laptop by the bang on the door followed by giggling. A man and a woman. The door swung open revealing Y/N accompanied closely by Dean, both holding grocery bags, as they rushed down the stairs.

“Nuh-uh! I have the snack you have to go put groceries away in the fridge! Hey Sam!” Y/N chucked, carelessly tossing him the cashews the youngest of the brothers had requested. Sam sat as he watched the scene before him play out.

“No fair! You always pick crappy romance movies! At least my picks are bearable!” Sam was stunned in place after catching his nuts. Unused to seeing his brother and best friend in such a cheerful mood, considering the possibility of a curse.

“What is going on here?” Y/N answers his question in a rushed, out of breath yell.

“Dean wanted to pick the movie but he picked last time and I was smart enough to grab the snack bag instead of the groceries, so I didn’t have to go to the kitchen and miss my chance at picking the movie!” She ran down the hall holding the ‘e’ and the end of ‘movie’. A moment later Dean came out of the kitchen holding two plates with pie on them.

“She cheated. She shoved me over before she unlocked the trunk leaving me with —“ He lifted the plates as a reference to the end of the statement.

“How did she get the keys?” Dean's hand managed to hold both plates in one hand with a fork in the other. With a full mouth, Dean answers his brother in a nonchalant manner as though the answer was as obvious as two plus two.

“She drove.”

“You let her drive!?”

“Yeah, look I’d love to talk but if I don’t get in there soon, she’s gonna pick the worst movie possible. I gotta get in there and try to persuade her to some’ better.”

Sam was left in awe in his chair. The youngest had always, arguably, been the smarter of the two, which allowed him to spot the signs far before Dean could, though they were hard to miss. Sam had always been aware of Dean's fondness of their best friend, but he also thought his brother would never allow himself to fall. Seems as though he was wrong.

“We are not watching that.” Dean blurted out as he entered the room.

“Dean I’m literally scrolling! I’m not even on anything specific!” Y/N spotted the plates of pie. “That for me?”

“No.” His mouth was full of pie.

“Whatever Dean, I know you. You put two pieces on your own plate.”

“So?” He swallowed looking at her.

“I promise to consider your opinion on the movie I pick?” She bit her bottom lip, eyebrows raised in an expectant manner, one arm extended awaiting the plated pie.

“Fine.” Dean handed her the plate taking a seat next to where she lay on her stomach looking at the television. “No romance.” Y/N took the plate and set it in front of her, gripping the fork right before shovelling a considerably large piece of pie in her mouth.

“I said I’d consider. Not that it matters. I already picked. I was just browsing while I waited for you. Oh, and it is a romance. Oh! And to top it off, it a musical.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me”

“We’re watching Grease.”

“Alright have fun I’m gonna go help Sam with research.”

“As if you’d pick research over a movie, regardless of the genre.”

“You’ve got a point.”

“Don’t be a baby. You can still be manly if you watch musicals, you just gotta sing the baritone.” Y/N smiled up at him over her shoulder, a teasing look on her face. She started the movie and they both watched, Dean occasionally making ridiculously obvious comment such as:

“They would never just up and start singing about their summer!”

“Well obviously not Dean, it’s a movie. I mean come on ‘Poltergeist’, you really want me to believe ghosts are real?”

Both howled as jokes came and went easing them into a comfortable location at the top of the bed leaning against the headboard and each other. Y/N sang along to most of the songs as Dean would hum to the ones he recognized until ‘Hopelessly Devoted’ began to play. Y/N, being the dramatic person she is, instantly got up kneeling on the bed as she sang pointing to Dean between glances at the telly. Dean had heard that particular song one too many times coming from Y/N’s room while she would make her bed or fold laundry. He heard it enough times that he had managed to store away each and every lyric in his head. In that moment, free of judgment, Dean joined Y/N in singing, reaching out his hand for hers which she took. They sang the whole song through to each other giggling as it ended with Sandy gliding paper over the water in a blow-up pool. Y/N collapsed next to her singing partner while he pulled her closer into his chest. They went about the evening eating snacks and teasing one another until the movie was over. They pulled apart at the credits to clean the room and prepare for bed.

“Here give me that, I’ll deal with the mess you go get ready for bed ‘kay?” Dean reached for Y/Ns plate.

“You know I’m not completely incapable of helping.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. But you can also let someone take care of you for a change.” He didn’t give her a chance at a rebuttal before taking the dishes and garbage leftover from their snacks, making his way to the kitchen. Now, Y/N wasn’t about to chase him down and argue with him for wanting to help, so she made her way to her room to grab a towel and PJs before heading to the shower.

Dean entered the library with a reminiscent smile on his face as he thought back on his day.

“Dean.” His eyes shot up to his brother, who was still sitting at his laptop, his bag of cashews a third of the way empty.

“Sam.”

“I— Listen I understand not wanting to tell, like, Cass or Jack or anyone else but me, man? I’m your brother. I know the risks that come with dating, I, of all people, know the risks in this life and not wanting to tell people makes sense but I figured you’d at the very least tell me.”

“What in the hell are you on about man?” Over the two or so hours it took for them to watch their movie, Sam had come to the conclusion that Dean wasn't in denial of his feelings, in fact, he had already acted on them. Dean, on the other hand, was genuinely lost in Sam's statement.

“You and Y/N. I thought initially that you were just ignoring your feelings, turns out you guys are already dating.”

“Sam, wait you think we’re dating? What in the world gave you that idea?” Without a word, Sam gave Dean his best bitch-face he could muster, watching as Dean then thought back to everything that had happened that day not to mention them sleeping in the same bed for weeks.

“You guys sleep in the same bed every night, you go everywhere together, you let her drive your car, then there’s the fact that you were singing to a musical!”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Dean you’re in love.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Dean—“

“Sam, no! Why can’t a guy and girl just be friends! That’s all we are!”

“You’re telling me that if she started dating someone, you’d be her first supporter.”

“That's not gonna happen.”

“You’re telling me that if she walked in here right now and said, ‘Dean we need to talk’ only to tell you she loves you; you wouldn’t be beyond happy.”

“Sammy, stop.”

“You wouldn’t hug her and kiss her all over; tell her you love her back. You’re telling me, the most observant person in the bunker, that you haven’t felt it? That surge of energy when she smiles at you? The protectiveness when there is any sort of masculine threat around, when someone asks for her name at a bar, Dean! I’ve seen you! Your entire posture changes when someone flirts with her!”

“I said stop, Sam!” Dean's reply came out loud and angry as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Just think about it. It could be really good, Dean. Don’t screw it up, ‘cause you’ll be the one losing her.”

“Hey, you guys okay in here? I don’t wanna have to break a stupid fight, I just showered I’m all clean. I don’t wanna have to the another ‘cause you’re bleeding everywhere.”

“We’re good Y/N. You need anything?”

“No, just came by to say good night and head to bed.” She looked too Dean who hadn’t looked away from her since she’d stepped into the library.

“Well, night Y/N.” Sam was first to answer while his brother picked up a wrapper that had fallen during his outburst.

“Night sweetheart.” With that Y/N headed back to Dean's room which, as she opened the door, realized it was all tidied up including the bed. Y/N smiled at that, remembering the night she made Dean get up so she could remake the bed. She hopped in putting her phone on the nightstand on the side of the bed she had claimed for herself.

Meanwhile, Dean made his way to the kitchen, cleaning the dishes before making his back to his room to grab a towel and PJs and follow Y/Ns example. Dean came back, his hair still damp and tussled, towel in hand, and got in bed next to Y/N after hanging it behind his door he had promptly shut after entering.

Both settled in, arranging pillows and blankets alike. After getting comfortable Y/N lifter her hand, as per their routine, for Dean to take. His hands stayed on his chest as he glanced at her hand. Every ounce of his body wanted to take it and interlace his fingers with hers, the thought giving him a rush. Every cell aching for the contact, but he ignored them all. Ignored the voice in his head screaming at him to take her hand and kiss it before falling asleep the same way he had done since the third night.

“I’m good for tonight.” Y/N gazed over to him with a hurt look on her face. She dropped her hand to her side slowly, not wanting to pressure her friend.

“Right, okay… well you know where it is if you need it.” Without a word Dean reached over and turned out the lights. The atmosphere around them was just short of tense. After a few beats, Y/N turned onto her side, facing away from Dean.

“Night Dean.” It took him a moment to conjure up the will the answer after hearing the pain and confusion in her voice.

“Night.”

Dean awoke the big spoon, reaching over his sleeping companion to hold her hand. In the moment Dean couldn’t care about the fact he was falling for her, — though some may argue he already had — he just wanted to hold her, feel her heartbeat through her t-shirt, the heat of her body against his own. He counted to five allowing himself a chance to memorize how she felt in his arms, before pulling away moving to his side of the bed.

The tension between them was tangible as they went about their day. Dean had practically ignored her all day, giving her the most benign answer, a grunt sufficing of acknowledgment. By nightfall Dean was ready for bed before anyone else, moving to his room. Y/N followed him shortly after, though still in her street clothes, just to check on him. She knocked and without awaiting an answer, opened the door.

“Dean? Are you okay? You’ve been off all day today and now you’re in bed before 7? What’s up.”

“Nothing. I’m fine, just tired.”

“You want me to—“

“No. Actually, Y/N, about that. I think I’ve figured out the nightmares I don’t need you to stay here anymore.” There was a pause while Y/N tried to understand his actions.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re highly lacking in tact Dean?” With that, she turned around and shut the door or rather slammed it. On her way to her room, she passed Sam who had heard the door.

“Hey, is everything okay with you guys?”

“We’re fine Sam.” Y/Ns response was blunt and to the point, a deep frown on her face as she shoved past him. She was angry, but why? She had been staying with Dean, not for her own benefit but to help him. To aid him in getting a full night's sleep that had previously been disrupted by nightmares which, he had claimed, were no longer. Dean was left in his room, lights turned off in hopes of deterring any questions his brother may want to ask. He knew what he had done was one of the least intelligent things he’s done but it had to happen. The more time he spent with her the deeper he would fall and with the life they lived, with the relationship he already had with her, it wasn’t a smart thing to let happen. So, he did the best he could with the aim of not leading her on and avoiding the subject entirely. The thing about Dean was if he liked something or someone as much as he did Y/N, he would, without a second thought, give his life to protect them. In his head, this is how he excused his actions. Being with someone like Dean could only hurt the other person. He was dangerous with a constant target on his back. To be with Dean meant sporting the twinning target though it was worth significantly more than his own because to hurt them meant hurting Dean in a more wounding and permanent way than hurting the Winchester himself. Dean wouldn't— couldn’t risk Y/N’s life because he loved her, if anything that would show the opposite of love. So, he would love her from afar, hurting her himself, but at least she was safe.

Y/N slept just fine in her own bed though it was colder than she remembered, and it took longer to fall asleep due to the missing rhythm of Dean's breathing. She was furious at Dean — and at herself for wanting him this way. It didn’t take long for her initial crush to grow. She was spending every day with him and then she got to sleep in the same bed as the eldest Winchester. Not that she’d have ever acted on it. She knew Dean would have never reciprocated her feeling and she’d made her peace with it. Dean had always been emotionally unavailable though she thought she was getting through to him as of late. She was satisfied with being his friend and one of his best at that. She got to spend every day with him, she was there when he needed her help and vice versa. Y/N had never been overly disappointed at the fact that her crush would never be more than one-sided. It couldn’t be. She understood that with the life they lived, having a relationship was off the table. But the way Dean had been acting the past two days admittedly hurt her. She never pushed him to do anything he didn’t want to do, and suddenly he had completely shut her out.

Dean, on the other hand, simply refused to admit to his feelings. It hurt him just as much to push her away, but he declared it mandatory in order to protect her.

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Chapter 4

Tag List: @akshi8278 @bargedog @just-someone-difficult @mila-dans @valhallavxlkyrie

Series Tags: @autobotgirl15-blog @classyunknownlover @laycblack @lovememisha @redbarn1995 @wellfuckmyexistence

#fanfic #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #Dean x Reader #Dean x you #Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #spnfamily #spnfanficpond #dean fluff #fluff #the same bed series #spn fanfic series #Dean Winchester x female reader #dean

96 notes · View notes

monkberries · 3 years

Note

They dealt with all of the above. Ringo was treated as a joke for pretty much everything, especially since this was the era of prog rock. His personal life was also tabloid fodder. George was derided as being a dour spiritual nut who was out of touch. He along w/ Ringo didn't get the respect he deserved as a guitarist bc his style wasn't in at the time & people knew little about his role in The Beatles. All credit went to Lennon/McCartney. 1/2

John had the benefit of having the rebel genius image, but even he became a source of ridicule with all the stunts he pulled with Yoko and the way his career declined after Imagine. He wasn't deified to the degree he was in the 80s. I'm not trying to say Paul never had a hard time, but the way this fandom talks as if he is the only one who faced extreme criticism or disrespect just tells me they haven't looked much into the other Beatles' lives. The man is more admired than most musicians. 2/2

(IDK if this screenshotted anons were from the same person or not, but I’ll just answer them in this one since it’s all the same subject.)

Here’s what I think is valid, as I see it: Paul fans are upset by the way his music was treated by the music press, especially in the first few years of the 70s, while the music of the other three were generally given at least the benefit of the doubt. They’re not upset about the tabloid gossip, the purely personal stuff – they are upset, specifically and with good reason, at the way Paul’s music was treated and the way the music world’s personal dislike of him seeped into their music reviews. I’m gonna focus in on 1970 through the end of 1974, since this is where a lot of the complaints spawn from, and things start to shift in a big way in 74. You didn’t ask but contemporary writings about their early solo music is something I’m fascinated by anyway and you turned the wind-up toy key in my back, so. Off I go. This is gonna be so, so long.

At different points in the decade, all of them were subject to a sullying of their personal reputations. That is where I do agree with you: all of them were subjected to that by the press, to varying degrees, at varying times, and for various reasons for each of them. That is just what happens to public figures the longer they are public figures. Tabloids mess with everyone no matter how beloved they are.

However, that’s not what I generally see Paul fans getting upset about. What I see is that they’re upset at the way the much more legitimate and widely respected music press approached Paul’s music and talent in general. It is widely received knowledge now that the critics treated Paul’s music differently than they did John’s and George’s and even Ringo’s; the trashing was not “equal.” They came at John and George with the assumption that their talent was real and ongoing outside of the Beatles, their genius unquestionable, their motives pure and well-intentioned and honest. Paul was not afforded these assumptions. Some examples to show what I mean, most of them found through wikipedia, rocksbackpages, or rollingstone.com.

John

Plastic Ono Band was Robert Christgau’s number one album of 1970 in The Village Voice. from Creem’s review: “John's record, of course, has been righteously raved over ever since its release, justifiably. It's interesting and even enlightening to see a man working out his trauma on black plastic but more than that, it's totally enthralling to see that Lennon has once again unified, to some degree, his life and his music into a truly whole statement.” From High Fidelity’s review: "a tremendously exciting listening experience, perhaps the best any Beatle has ever offered." In their Imagine review, Rolling Stone called POB “perfect.” A couple reviews in the mainstream were more mixed, put off a little by the rawness of it, but overall the rock world quickly grew to see this album as a work of genius.

Imagine was even more widely well-reviewed, despite a mixed review from Rolling Stone (John fell out with Jann Wenner around this time, curiously). Here’s a passage from rateyourmusic.com: “Imagine was actually one of the most critically acclaimed albums of the year, aside from this tepid review in Rolling Stone. Indeed, much of the rock press seemed palpably relieved that the former Beatle hadn't gone completely off the deep end. ‘It's the best album of the year, and for me it's the best album he's done, with anything, or with anyone, at any time,’ Roy Hollingworth wrote in the 10/9/71 issue of Melody Maker. ‘The album is superb,’ Alan Smith agreed in the 9/11/71 issue of NME. ‘Beautiful. One step away from the chill of his recent total self-revelation, and yet a giant leap towards commerciality without compromise...I have no criticism at all.’”

Some Time in New York City was admittedly John’s nadir, and the press was vicious about it, both personally and musically, deeming the album egotistical, lacking in energy, and devoid of sincerity. However, many maintained a reverence for the genius that came before it and hopeful encouragement for the future. Rolling Stone said that “The Lennons should be commended for their daring;” Creem said it wasn’t half bad; and even though NME’s article was scathing, it ended with a plea for John to return to form, saying, “Don't rely on cant and rigidity. Don't alienate. Stimulate. You know, like you used to.”

Mind Games, though reviews were mixed, fared far better in comparison. Again, there is a hopeful tone to the reviews, a sureness that John can do better. From Rolling Stone talks about the music being a return to POB form, but the writing is his worst yet; however, Landau qualifies this by saying the lyrics aren’t “offensive, per se, just misguided... [John Lennon’s admirers] might even be able to withstand something more challenging” and then praises John’s voice, his production, and a few individual songs. In Melody Maker, Ray Coleman says, “if you warm to the rasping voice of Lennon and, like me, regard him as the true fulcrum of much of what came from his old group, then like any new Lennon album, it will be enjoyable and even important.” Christgau is more middling but also says, “Still, the single works, and let's hope he keeps right on stepping.”

Walls and Bridges seems confusing to reviewers in retrospect. They couldn’t seem to come to a consensus on it. The musicianship was widely praised, for the most part, though Rolling Stone criticized the first side on this front; reviewers alternately said it was “the latest chapter in John Lennon’s Identity Crisis” (Creem) and “truly a superb album by any standards” (Melody Maker). Throughout the Rolling Stone review, the author is able to thoroughly critique the songs, for better or worse, with a neutral affect and without resorting to insulting John personally. He ends the review on a positive note: “When one accepts one’s childhood, one’s parenthood and the impermanence which lies between, one can begin to slog along. When John slogs, he makes progress.” Again, even though the reviews aren’t all positive, we can see, especially and most importantly in the most influential rock magazine of the time, the acknowledgment of his talent, a sense of excitement for what John will do next, and a belief that his work is authentic and honest.

George

All Things Must Pass, I mean. Apart from a couple of outliers like Christgau in The Village Voice (he called it “overblown fatuity”), it was incredibly, almost universally beloved by the music press when it came out. There was quite a bit of surprise that such a talent had been under everyone’s noses all this time, but I don’t think anon is quite correct that all the credit for the Beatles went to Lennon/McCartney. For example, Ben Gerson in Rolling Stone recognized George’s talent within the Beatles like this: “Up until now, George has been perhaps the premier studio musician among rock band guitarists. From the electronic whine which began “I Feel Fine” to the break in “Hard Day’s Night” to the crazed, sitar-influenced burst on “Taxman,” George exhibited an avant-garde imagination and a technical flawlessness, as well as the ability to stay within the bounds of a song, which has remained unparalleled.” In Melody Maker, the feeling of journalists was summed up thusly: hearing the album was “the rock equivalent of the shock felt by pre-war moviegoers when Garbo first opened her mouth in a talkie: Garbo talks! – Harrison is free!" The personal nature and honesty of the lyrics were praised as well; Time described it as an “expressive, classically executed personal statement.” Ben Gerson did call his proselytizing offensive, but in the next sentence says that George redeems himself from that with the personal plea in Hear Me Lord.

Concert for Bangla Desh - again, some cynicism from Christgau in The Village Voice (must have woke up on the wrong side of the bed that day) and of course tax issues dogged it later, but overall, for the rock press at the time, this was a crowning achievement that George pulled off. He was praised all over the press, countercultural and mainstream, for his live musical talent, the group of musicians that joined him, the lack of political motivation, the sincerity and goodwill, and George’s ability to bring back "a brief incandescent revival of all that was best about the Sixties" (Rolling Stone). To this day he is credited with creating the model for future charity concerts.

Living in the Material World - Nothing could have topped the one-two punch of ATMP and the Concert for Bangla Desh, but honestly, LITMW came pretty close for some journalists. Rolling Stone again praised George’s honesty and authenticity: “ Despite the occasional use of “psychedelic puns,” Harrison’s lyrics are so guileless they convey an extraordinary sincerity that transcends questions of craftsmanship. Similarly, the devotions we are called upon to share with Harrison, though they communicate no specific, private torment, do have the authenticity of overheard prayers and are therefore sacred.” Melody Maker said, "Harrison has always struck me before as simply a writer of very classy pop songs; now he stands as something more than an entertainer. Now he's being honest." The pushback against his pious attitude and lyrics picked up some steam with this album, particularly with Christgau (again) and Tony Tyler of NME, who called it “so damn holy I could scream.” However, it was far from the consensus opinion at the time, and with the biggest rock magazine in the world at your back, you can withstand quite a bit.

Dark Horse, oof. That poor man. It did get some positivity in Billboard and Melody Maker, but my god, the reviews for this album and its subsequent tour were so cruel. I suspect when these anon(s) talk about the others being treated terribly by the press as well, this, along with John’s STINYC, is one of the examples they would give, and they’re not wrong about that. This was the point where George’s piety and what they perceived as a sanctimonious attitude finally started really getting to everyone, and the album plus the tour was the perfect opportunity to dogpile on him. I guess it was to be expected; no one can ride that high forever, and the press loves to knock people over and kick them while they’re down. Rolling Stone called it “disastrous,” “shoddy,” and called his guitar work “rudimentary,” eventually declaring that George had “never been a great artist.” This from the same magazine that was practically worshipping at his feet the year before. Yowch.

Ringo

Sentimental Journey - The less that’s said about this album, the better.

Beaucoups of Blues was actually quite well-received. No one called him a genius for it, and it wasn’t a serious personal record and therefore wasn’t treated that way, but journalists seemed uniquely able to let themselves enjoy this record despite the serious/political/personal tone of most musicians at the time. Melody Maker believed Ringo had "conviction and charm" and that because of that, the album stripped away the serious “hip posturing” and let you just enjoy the music on its own terms. The Village Voice said that Ringo was “good at making himself felt.” Although Rolling Stone’s tone was a bit more cruel than other magazines (there was a crack somewhere in there that Ringo wasn’t as smart as John), it also called him lovable and the record “a real winner” where the songs “sound terrific.”

Ringo was a total smash and I think people forget this. It’s remembered only because it’s an album that was worked on by all four Beatles, but actually, the critics fuckin loved it. Ringo was praised in Rolling Stone for his unpretentiousness, sensibility, and essentially collaborative nature: “Ringo was always the figure of conciliation within the Beatles, undoubtedly the most genial, conceivably the most sensible, and the one with the smallest musical axe to grind. His very lapses bespoke the esteem in which the others held him; had they not liked him so much, those perfectionists would never have allowed him to sing. Perhaps because as the drummer he stood outside the process of creation, he had the best perspective from which to see the Beatles as a unity. Ringo has never had any pretense of self-sufficiency. Once he had gotten his special projects out of the way (projects for which John, Paul and George's talents would have been unsuited anyway) Ringo was ready to call upon the three most obvious people to assist him with writing, singing and playing. As Starr's first "pop album," Ringo signifies a homecoming, not just of family, but in musical style as well.”

Goodnight Vienna was kind of a minor album for Ringo, but still, reviews were pretty good. Rolling Stone praised his “unalloyed sincerity which is his trademark and trump card.” Yet again, we see the theme of authenticity popping up in these reviews - if you are perceived as authentic, honest, and sincere, that takes you a long way with music reviewers in this time period, and Ringo was nothing if not wholly, completely himself.

Paul

McCartney - One of the main complaints of Paul fans is that Jann Wenner forced Langdon Winner, the author of the review for this album in Rolling Stone, to rewrite his article and put a more negative spin on it. The result is that Winner praised most of the music but totally undermined his own praise by questioning the authenticity of the tone and deriding the press release that came with the album as much as he praised the music. He ends the article like this: “I like McCartney very much. But I remember that the people of Troy also liked that wooden horse they wheeled through their gates until they discovered that it was hollow inside and full of hostile warriors.” This was a huge blow at a time when personal authenticity and substance were considered paramount. Melody Maker also questioned the legitimacy of his genius, saying “With this record, [McCartney's] debt to George Martin becomes increasingly clear.” Most other reviews weren’t any better.

Ram, I mean, Jesus Christ the reviews for this. It’s a widely respected album now, even made the RS top 500 albums of all time list last year, but at the time people were still so angry with Paul for supposedly breaking up the Beatles that they were still taking it out on his music a year later (imo). Landau in Rolling Stone called it “emotionally vacuous” and said it lacked conviction, saying also that it was “so incredibly inconsequential and so monumentally irrelevant you can’t even [hate it]; it is difficult to concentrate on, let alone dislike or even hate.” NME called it “the worst thing Paul McCartney has ever done.” Threaded through these reviews is a belief that the songs are devoid of meaning and that Paul’s happy domestic front is just a frustrating lie; Christgau in The Village Voice said he was “infuriated by the McCartneys' modern young-marrieds image” - infuriated because he clearly doesn’t believe it, rendering Paul dishonest and his music inauthentic. Once again journalists are unable to review Paul’s music without sniping about him as a person.

Wild Life - Though the situation remains largely the same - reviewers refuse to take him seriously, believe anything he says, or treat his musical talent as anything but vacuous fluff - the reviews aren’t quite as bad as they were for Ram and a bit of positivity begins to stir. It’s evident especially in the Rolling Stone review, where Mendelsohn wonders if Paul is making crappy fluff on purpose to piss John off because it will sell just as well anyway. It’s not much, and on top of the fairly strong criticism there is almost no hope for future Paul releases: “My own conviction is that we'd be foolish to expect anything much more earth-shaking than Wild Life out of McCartney for a good long while... In the meantime the reader is advised to either develop a fondness for vacuous but unpretentious pop music or look elsewhere for musical pleasure.” But it’s something.

Red Rose Speedway Paul continues to be lambasted by a lot of the press on this album for being lightweight and having no meaning behind his songs (at this point it’s just repetitive to quote the articles, just trust me that they say basically the same thing they were saying for the past three albums too), BUT I think a nuance that gets forgotten in all of this is that Rolling Stone gave it kind of a decent review. It seems like they finally quit gatekeeping and realized that songs don’t need to have some deep personal meaning to be good. Kaye is still not very nice about Paul’s lyrics but he recognizes that he doesn’t have to take Paul’s music on the same terms as he takes John and George. Paul’s music is less personal, but that doesn’t make it unworthy. He calls it “pleasant, accessible without concentration” and praises Paul’s voice and arranging skills. It feels like for this album, Rolling Stone took the stick out of its own ass when it came to Paul and finally relaxed enough to receive Paul’s music on his terms rather than theirs. Which, imo, primed the rock world for...

Band on the Run, Paul’s comeback. Even though Christgau in The Village Voice remained unconvinced (he called it “a pleasant piece of hackwork”), almost everyone else adored it. It seems weird to us now, but the general sentiment seemed to be that people were surprised by how good this album was. NME said, “The ex-Beatle least likely to re-establish his credibility and lead the field has pulled it off with a positive master-stroke”; and although Landau’s review in Rolling Stone overflowed with praise, he also said, “I'm surprised I like Band on the Run so much more than McCartney's other solo albums because, superficially, it doesn't seem so different from them.”

I hope I’ve been able to demonstrate a general trajectory with the musical reputation of each Beatle here. John starts off on two incredible high points, crashes and burns, and then works his way back up. He DEFINITELY missed with STINYC, but even when he followed it up with Mind Games, there was still a hopeful tone to the reviews, sort of like, “Ah, well, the last two weren’t great but we’re still looking forward to what John will give us next.” Until the Dark Horse tour/album, which did sour the press on poor George, the music press adored him. It was hit after hit with him. He could not miss. Three high points, one after the other, then a monumental crash. Ringo seems to stay fairly high, even if the records aren’t serious records. All three of them start out incredibly well, and the music press was able and willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Paul was given none of that. Perhaps because he was out of step with the attitudes about music at the time, perhaps because journalists hated him for breaking up the Beatles, perhaps because they believed John when he painted Paul as “establishment,” perhaps a combination - whatever their issue was, Paul was given no benefit of the doubt to start with, no faith in his genius, and no belief in his authenticity. He was just a hack to the music press for the first few years of the 70s; he started at the bottom and was forced to work his way up, unlike the other three. It started, imo, when Wenner forced the journalist who wrote the McCartney review in RS to rewrite the article, and it spiraled from there. He was seen as hollow and uncool, as one of the anons said, “straight” in the parlance of the time - straight meaning “establishment.” This is kind of where I do start to roll my eyes a little bit at stans, when they get upset at people calling him “establishment” and trying to prove that actually he was so anti-establishment that people couldn’t handle it or whatever, without trying to understand what the word “anti-establishment” meant at the time. But there are also really substantive arguments you can make that say Paul’s music was not taken seriously because of a personal grudge against him.

I’m not saying that all of them didn’t have run-ins with the music press. I’m saying there is nuance here that I don’t think these anons are allowing for in the first few years of that decade. They came at George and John and Ringo with a positive, or at least neutral, slant most of the time. They came at Paul with a negative one. Case in point are the reviews of Band on the Run that were surprised at how good it was. That stuff gets people’s hackles up. The others didn’t have positive reviews rewritten to be more negative. The others didn’t have albums savaged that are now on the Rolling Stone top 500 albums of all time list. I do agree that John, at least, and George post Dark Horse, had a harder time with the music press than people generally remember or care to think about – deification is retroactive, I guess, and as Paul fans we should definitely recognize that Paul wasn’t the only one who went through a rough time with the press. But I do think Paul’s situation was made uniquely and unjustifiably difficult for those first few years.

I mean, at the same time, I cannot stress enough how much this did not affect his bottom line. Despite the horrible reviews, Ram still made a ton of money, McCartney made a ton of money, Band on the Run and Wild Life and Red Rose Speedway all made a ton of money. He had a fanbase, a huge one, that followed him loyally and faithfully through the early 70s as he was getting savaged by the press, and through the middle and late 70s when he was touring. At some point, you have to step back and go, wait. Why does any of this matter? This was 50 years ago. He was a multi-millionaire then and is a billionaire now. And you are right; whenever people over-generalize and try to make the case that Paul was always badly reviewed and the others were press darlings, I tend to get annoyed because they’re totally missing the actually interesting nuances of the situation (that can be easily found online! I found most of the music reviews through snippets on Wikipedia!) In conclusion, I guess my point is that both “Paul was vilified while everyone else wasn’t” and “everyone was equally vilified” paint the events of the early 70s with brushes that are too broad and miss the nuance that was evident in the way the press interacted with their music.

#Anonymous #macca #johnny #geo #ritchie #fab four #sorry this isn't so much a response to anon's points as it is me going off on research tangents and accidentally writing a masters thesis #reading old rolling stone album reviews is such an unexpected pleasure i recommend it

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catcze · 3 years

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Oh, Catte, my beloved... The bracelet is so beautiful. Goodness, did I cry when I took it out of the envelope. It's almost as beautiful as you are, I love it so much! I'm never ever taking this off. Oh starlight I'm so happy, you may as well have just proposed! I love you so so much, thank you💜💜💜

I'm glad Cyno is doing well for himself these days! It's not really that complex of a spell, simple transmutation really, but I'm sure he didn't want to overwhelm you. He may not talk a lot but trust me; he cares. I should write him sometime, if only so the next time an emergency arises he won't think I only remember he exists when I need his help, hehe... I'm joking of course, he's not the kind of person to care. I do still owe him a favor though. Two, now that he's gone out of his way to teach my girlfriend magic, and specifically for helping you make me this wonderful present. Send along my thanks please, but please don't mention that I said I'd write him, just in case I somehow forget to. You know me, heh..

Also I'm a little surprised to hear that name again! Collei was quite the visitor when she was here a few years ago, it's a long story, and one I doubt very much she'd want me to tell. Suffice to say she and Amber are good friends, but I'm sure she already asked you about her as soon as you mentioned Mondstadt. I'm so relieved to hear she's safe, and studying medicine no less! Tell her I'm proud of her. She'll do great things in her life.

I must admit I'm slightly bothered to hear that so many scholars accosted my poor babygirl to ask if I'd return, I'm so sorry darling. If they give you any more trouble, oh I'll come visit alright. To dispense punishment(although I'd definitely grab some food on the way as we left). Speaking of food, that's so sweet of you to offer to learn the local cuisine just for me~ you're so thoughtful, it's one of the many many things I love about you. My reputation around the school is honestly the only accomplishment you'll find though sweetheart. I wasn't really all that social there, aside from talking to the professors and scholars. I couldn't afford to procrastinate if I wanted to learn everything I could. Funny, that sounds completely unlike me, now doesn't it~ Those lectures can be tiresome at first, did they provide you with the appropriate reading materials, or are you only listening? I still have my copy of the first semester alchemy textbook--it's only about 800 pages, but they're packed to the brim with knowledge. I still reference it sometimes.

Like I mentioned though, most of my time in Sumeru was spent at the Academy or at the local restaurants. If you wanted food recommendations, those I can provide, but unfortunately I won't be of much use otherwise. Sorry cutie~

[the next page of the letter is a list of local restaurants, many with recommended dishes written next to them. There's also a fair number of heart shapes and "I love you"s doodled around the edges of the paper]

I hope you'll try at least some of those and tell me what you think. The more you talk about it honestly, the more it's beginning to grow on me. I do want to go back and visit with you, my love. I miss it, even if I don't want to admit that. It would be so much fun to sight see with you, being able to just meander aimlessly through the city, not a care in the world, and with you by my side... That sounds amazing. I'd want nothing more. Perhaps for our honeymoon~? [the last sentence of the paragraph is crossed out with a single streak of ink cutting through it]

Your photos are all amazing, darling. I just wish I had as many to send you in return, but unfortunately I don't own a camera, nor can I afford to leave the library long enough to travel to Liyue and buy one. That being said, Albedo does have one, and he already took that first photo. Darling, I'm curious, and please, *please* say no if it would bother you even slightly. If I... Perhaps wanted to take some... Pictures, just for your enjoyment~ ...would you mind if I had Albedo continue to serve as the photographer? I want my baby to be thinking of me, especially since I'm not there to pleasure you myself~💜 again, PLEASE say no if you'd have any problem with that. Or I could ask Jean if that would be better. I just want to treat my princess to some candy~

That line is going to have me up all night, I swear. I do wish I was there for you in every sense, but goodness does my heart ache for you. I miss the way you taste so much, my precious little munchkin~ you're not going to sleep at all the first night you're back in my arms, I hope you know that. I'm going to edge you so hard you'll cry for me, hehe~ I'm a little peeved you didn't take notice of my comment about punishing you! There will be ropes involved when you return to me. Just the way you always like it, cutie~ tell me, how bad do you miss me? Miss my tongue you love so much~? Don't worry baby--you'll get everything you could ever want for when you come home. I can't wait to taste you~ goodness, excuse me a moment baby... I need to scratch an itch before I finish writing this letter, hehe...~

Okay, I'm back. That was quite the itch, it just kept coming back~ that picture you sent with this letter may have helped with that... Celestia, you're so so beautiful, my rose..~ I love you so much.

Where was I... Ah yes. I'm very glad you've been eating and sleeping properly. Such a good girl you always are~💜 and don't worry; I'm taking care of myself as well. I've been becoming more adjusted to the late nights lately, since your letters often arrive around this hour(it's 11:30 right now, although up until a page ago it had been 10:15, hehe...). I don't mind it at all, since you know I love to sleep in anyway. I love reading your letters sweetheart. They truly do carry your love across the distance. I'm so happy that you're my partner. I love you so so much. I reread your letters every day, they put such a smile on my face.

Also, what's this about ideas you're having ever since I mentioned the uniform? Tell me!! Pretty please~? 💜

I'm going to call my letter to a close here, before I end up needing a bigger envelope, hehe~ I love you so much, starlight. Please take care, and I hope you're well rested when you read this. Hopefully I can put a smile on your beautiful face. I just wish I was there to see it. I love you so much, take care and write me back when you can, promise~?

Yours Always,

- Lisa 🌺💜

Milddd nsfw here muaH <33

Hi, love, I’m so happy that you like your gift! I love you very much as well— hopefully it can give you comfort on some particularly hard nights where I cannot be with you, dearest. Sort of like a reminder that although I cannot be there with you in person, you always carry a piece of my heart with you, you know?

I’ll be sure to relay your message to Cyno and Collei! They were rather surprised when they found out I was your girlfriend, haha! In a good way, of course— they’ve been great company so far.

And don’t worry about the other scholars, Lisa dear. I can handle them plenty fine. I’m sure they’ll go running if I even so much as imply that you wouldn’t be pleased with them for their behavior, my love. They wouldn’t want to mess with one of the best sorcerers to ever roam those halls, you know?

Regarding the lectures, they offered to loan me some textbooks actually, but I had to turn them down since, well, I am just an observer, and carrying so many books with me to and fro would weigh me down. Still, although I sometimes get confused while I observe, It’s such a fun and interesting experience! I can’t say I’m remembering every bit of knowledge I hear, but I’ve definitely learned at least a thing or two.

Just yesterday, there was a bit of a lull in lectures that I was attending— something about one of the scholars who had agreed to host me taking their class out to fieldwork, and I was unable to accompany them. So I took the time to check out some of the restaurants you listed for me! I went to just one of them for lunch, since I didn’t want to get too full throughout the day, and I enjoyed it very much!! I included a picture of one of the dishes you noted for me (a best seller of theirs, apparently) and I didn’t regret purchasing it at all. It was so good! In my free time, it’s one of the recipes that I hope to familiarize and bring back home to you— I think you’ll rather like it, especially since there’s no meat. Hopefully I’ll get good enough at making it that you’ll be able to savor the flavor too!

Though, I don’t mind either if you’d rather return with me next time, and we can have a dinner date here? I really like the ambiance of the place— its both romantic and private. And the view from the balcony here is absolutely magical. Or we can maybe visit a couple of the other restaurants you’ve recommended to me? I doubt that I’ll be able to try all of them this time, and being able to experience it with you would make the experience a million times better.

Also, regarding the photos you mentioned— well, I’m fine with it if you are. As long as you’re comfortable with whoever is photographing you love, then it’s perfectly alright with me. Besides, I know that we’re devoted to each other, so there’s no cause for me to be uncomfortable 💞 If you so wish to grant me such photos, I eagerly await them, love! They’re not the same as you being here, of course, but I’m sure they could help me with how much I miss you.

And ah, sending such things only makes me miss you more! Perhaps I should take a good, long rest before I come back to Mondstadt, if you plan to keep me up all night. And who says I didn’t notice your comment? Perhaps I was just teasing you by keeping quiet about it, especially if I know what’s awaiting me back home. And yes, I miss you so so much, I miss your tongue and you lips, your touch on my skin, the way you hold me and make me feel so good each and every time— Love, really, if your intention with that letter was to get me all worked up, then safe to say you’ve succeeded. My, I doubt I’m going to be getting any sleep tonight, thinking of you.

And regarding that bit about the Academy uniform… well, I might have found a local seamstress who was willing to make me a version of it, tailored to my measurements. It’s not ready quite yet, but hopefully I can send you some photographs soon 💞

By the way, love, there’s no need to have to wait up for my letters, not if you’re not getting enough sleep! I don’t mind waiting a bit for your reply as long as I know you’re sleeping on time. I worry about you as much as you worry about me, so for both your sake and mine, promise me you’ll get enough sleep? Either way, though, I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself, dearest. It makes me happy, knowing that you and the others are doing well. I love you very, very much you know? Please continue to stay safe, dearest, and know that I’m always missing you.

And, well, regarding a proper proposal, though I can’t say I haven’t thought of it before (how could I not? I can fully envision spending the rest of my life with you) I would much prefer if I were able to give you the ring and ask you in person, love. That being said, take the bracelet as a promise that I’ll return to you soon— and hopefully with a ring that I think you’ll like and a question that I plan to ask you.

All the best wishes, dearest. I love you very much 💞

—Catte 💞

#Character anon 💌 : Lisa #Kisses from Catte ��#Catcze.Lingerie 💦#liSA anon ily <333 please get enough rest babes!!!#muAH 💞💞#ALSO have a nice day!!!! ILYSM <33 #Alsooo regarding your other ask I'm so glad you liked the bit about the bracelet aaAA 💞👉👈

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hey8ter · 4 years

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@my dearest sweet anon, thank you very much for this question!! Tumblr hate me because it's the 3rd time I am trying to answer your ask and it doesn't work!!

Anon asked me months ago if I really thought Maru "outed" himself saying he wasn't capable of marrying and because of all the embarrassing absurd posts on this main blog.

It's been a while, but I sometimes caught myself thinking about that ask so I decided to answer. Not the truth (because we will never know), but my opinion as an eighter who loves Maru-chan.

I was going full "PEPE SILVIA" about this matter, but...

[Warning: LONG POST AHEAD]

As a disclaimer, I say that we never should assume or label one's sexuality even if they are public figures. This is a very intimate matter and it's up to the person if they want to disclose it or not. Unfortunately the society as a whole has yet to evolve and overcome their prejudice so people can feel safe to be and express who they are.

To answer the main question: Yes, it was posted just as a joke. I love making theories for fun and sharing with you, but they shouldn't be taken seriously.

About Maru it's a fact... He is a darling. The king of all the touchy fanservice. A devoted and thoughtful idol for the eighters. He always has good interactions with het and queer guests and he is open-minded about a lot of stuff like BL and p*rn. He doesn't mind being called "feminine" or an "old gay" and keep doing his thing. People say he does it for the laughs, but I believe he is like that.

Watching the clip where he talks about marriage his answer is simple: he doesn't feel attractive or good enough to marry because he is "the fool who is always laughing" but it's not like he doesn't want to. He just says he is not "capable" of.

So I will go for the another possibility of this answer (because I don't have a real opinion about the other topic):

When he was young he had all those very specific appearance and physical type of perfect partner. Now it changed. I think the age and all the gossips about women and love triangles are weighting on him. Also he is trapped on the persona he created for himself and feels gloomy about it. A few years ago he said in another interview that his ideal type is "someone who likes him a lot". Probably because he doesn't feel likable at all.

His insecurity is more related to his own public image than the sexuality or something similar.

Maru-chan deserves the world!! I hope he can become more confident and find someone who truly values him.

#fangirl rant #maru chan not the ramen #the ray of sun of eighters life

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merlindoesntwearpants · 4 years

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I just had a dream that there was a video game but it wasn't a video game because I was doing it. But there was a train on an enclosed track and on it robots fought in the different cars and I was supposed to shot at other robots and there was also achievements for stuff like shooting the moon. But the moon was too far away and my friends boyfriend was confused about it and then i realized there was a model of moon in front of a business you passed on the train. There was a zombie outbreak so my friends and I decided to use the train as a means of fighting them. Then there was a race/marathon that I was participating in. But it was super unofficial and had no spectators yet it was really important and Naya Rivera, Michael Jordan, and the actress who played Max in stranger things was there. Also why would I ever be willingly running. That's Satan's work. There was two days of the race. Maybe it was actually a test. I was watching news declassified yesterday that maybe why there was running. So at the end of the 1st day Sadie Sink (i looked up her name) walked into a warehouse and I saw her get possessed by what I can only assume was a demon. Then i was watching a new season of stranger things. But a had to do the second day of the race even though I had already lost. Oh yeah I lost or was eliminated on the 1st day so i could just do one lap instead of the whole course. I had my phone in the waterproof pouch around my neck which i wear irl at work. And I was trying to listen to stranger things as I ran because I was on the last episode and desperate to know how it ends. There were some other runners stuck behind other runners and talking about them like they were stuck behind a slow car in traffic. Oh before the 2nd day running started Finn Wolfhard was showing me pictures of him teaching Millie Bobby Brown (I wish her 2nd name had ie at end too) how to make Mac and cheese which she wanted to know so she could make it for someone. But the one they made together was thinner so she made a thicker one to actually give to the person who I forget. He specifically told me she wanted the Mac and cheese thicc. I laughed. Going back to the race, i finished my lap. Oh side note the race was entirely on the side of the road and we kept having to go into tall grass so cars wouldn't hit us. I was holding up and watching my phone as I walked. I walked into a warehouse that was different than the one Sadie Sink got possessed in. Finn Wolfhard, Millie Bobby Brown and a couple other child actors from stranger things were there. I couldn't really see them they didn't have a concrete form but i knew they were from stranger things that's why I'm not naming names, i couldn't really see them. But they were entirely real and not strange within the confines of the dream. They were discussing the Sadie Sink possession situation. Millie Bobby Brown was stirring a pot but I don't think it was Mac and cheese. The formless children asked me if i was sure she got possessed and I gave the affirmative. I was still kind of watching my phone. I apologized and elaborated that it was the last episode of the season, knowing that they'd understand my devotion to finding out what happens in the show. I stopped the video on my phone and thought about showing them that it's stranger things, which i decided to do but I was still anxious whether they'd be flattered or creeped out. They didn't make any comment so i don't know how they felt about it. Finn Wolfhard showed me the Mac and cheese pictures again (I forgot to mention earlier that these are printed out photos, not just on his phone) and he makes the same thicc joke. I figured he forgot he already showed them to me so i pretended like this was my first time seeing them and laughed again. Millie Bobby Brown turned the conversation back to the actual important matter of their friend being possessed and I woke up

#weord dream #weird dreams #stranger things #sadie sink #millie bobby brown #finn wolfhard

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thatwaywardwolf · 4 years

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I'm going through my notifications to see if there's anything I missed since the app is being glitchy for me again, and I noticed that an MCU blog liked one of my posts. Okay, that's alright. But, it wasn't one of my general shitposts I make. Rather, it was in response of that mini divination session I had several hours ago with Thor after finally deciding to give that "deity and I" spread a shot, which I'll link below.

I've been sitting on this for a bit, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Not the session results or anything, okay, maybe a little bit, but the notification itself. This isn't me ragging on the blogger or anything, don't get me wrong. I just feel a little...weird about it.

I've tackled this topic before in a general sense when it comes to paganism and how pop culture can bleed into it, and I recall seeing some Hellenic Pagans say this has been the case for them because of the popularity of the Percy Jackson series. It can be difficult to find things relating to your gods or the pantheon(s) you work with in general, so having this added to the mix as well is a recipe for disaster and frustration. I'm not sure how other pagans go about it, unless every group seems to have that problem; be it an issue with pop culture related fandoms, problems with academia, or there's little surviving records left for us to go off of - be it poor archiving or erased via colonialism and conversion by Christianity.

I know for me as of late, it's been challenging to want to do something special to spotlight certain gods when the only results I get on here are for video games, anime, Marvel, or Nazi black metal bands. It's absolutely disheartening and repulsive (with the white supremacist trash) to look for either music that draws inspiration from the legends and stories of the gods, and I get directed to Nazism that uses the names of the gods and their halls to perpetuate a hateful agenda. For example, if you've been following me for a while, you might remember a post I made where I didn't take kindly to finding out who Bilskirnir was. When you scrub past that, it's just sad how quiet it is to find other devotees or pagans to kick it with.

The pagan tags and subs I follow are more quiet than usual and the tags specifically related to the gods are 98% of the time pop culture related. It really sucks to want to find and share wholesome, goofy shit with you guys or strike up a friendly conversation on devotional writings, our UPGs, and just casual coffee time stories about our encounters with the gods only to see fanfiction or other similar content. Yeah, I'm a broken record when it comes to this topic. I'm just burned out by it, I guess. It would be nice to have an active, separate space or tagging system where we can just do our own thing and not have to wonder if something else will come into the mix and disrupt things.

Let me just get this out of the way before I go any further:

I don't have a problem with pop culture pagans. If you have a practice that works for you that you're doing safely and you aren't being a tool, it's all gravy to me. However, I don't feel that great when it comes to pop culture assuming I'm talking about them when I bring up my practice, even if it's in a joking or sarcastic manner or can be assumed such on my part. I'm probably being a dramatic baby about the topic, but it feels like the more this happens, the more minimized we are. I remember this happened with the Thor Appreciation Cuddle Pile tag many months ago, where a Marvel blog didn't know it was a devotee tag and apologized later - but still.

I end up looking back on posts that are for devotees of a certain deity asking for people to like/reblog so they can find more blogs to interact with, and I can't help but to wonder how many of them are just Marvel fan blogs and how many are pagans who either have a connection with a figure like Frigg, Thor, Heimdall, Sif, Loki, Odin, and Hel or are working towards that. Again, it feels lonely and isolating in a way. I'm sure other communities on here have a huge pain in the ass of a time finding content, but damn, working with the Norse gods on here (or other online communities) and trying to avoid folkish pricks on top of that feels like a lot to ask for.

I think I said what I needed for now. I'm sure I'll end up making another post like this in a few months, but what can ya do I guess. I'll see you cool cats around later. Stay safe and warm tonight if you're still dealing with the winter advisories, and I'll catch you later.

#adam rambles #i'm tired #paganism #norse paganism

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donnerpartyofone · 3 years

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Usually when I think about my ex it's because of something sadistic that he specifically engineered to try to ruin my life, but sometimes it's like...wait, what the hell was THAT all about? On one occasion he decided to reactivate his neglected Facebook account, but he got stuck trying to figure out how to fill out his profile. Suddenly he turned his frustration on me and sneered, "What am I even supposed to put down? People are such assholes, what do they want to see? ...like YOU, YOU'RE an asshole. heheheheh. What do YOU like? Like you read William Burroughs? Yeah, that's what ASSHOLES read...you like WERNER HERZOG? You listen to TOM WAITS? heheheh yeah, all that stuff is what ASSHOLES are into...now ASSHOLES will think I'm cool..." He just kept like emitting this theatrically ironic giggle and calling me an asshole, as he methodically entered every single one of my interests, at that time in my 20s, as his own. He didn't even change it later, it wasn't a joke. He just had no idea what to say for himself, at all. Thinking back, outside of comic books, he didn't really have any interests that weren't directly fed to him by Wes Anderson movies. He used to obsess over his SAT score and his class rank and other erstwhile signs of intellect, but in the years we were together I don't think he ever picked up a new book, or got excited about a new director or an artist or anything. After the early phase of him trying to impress me, it felt like we never even watched anything together unless people were making fun of it on Fark, or HuffPo published some obnoxious hot take on it, or something else like that, that he thought he had to keep up with. He spent a ton of energy buying new DVDs and toys and shit that he didn't even enjoy, after looking at them once he'd try to flip them on ebay and he'd always become ferociously angry when he failed to turn a profit, which of course he couldn't do because it was always just whatever was weighing down the shelves at Best Buy at that exact moment. If you saw his apartment you could think he was a passionate hobbyist devoted to niche interests, but if you had to spend any significant amount of time with him, you found out he didn't really care about anything besides other people's impressions of him. At a certain point he suddenly developed this cluster of alternative career ambitions that never lasted for more than an hour and that were almost always inspired by whatever he had just seen on TV: stand-up comic, chef, entrepreneur, whatever. It wasn't fun at the time but I still have to laugh when I remember going for drinks after seeing THE SOCIAL NETWORK, when he suddenly decided that his new job was inventing a brilliant new tech start-up that no one ever thought of before. As we sat there, he scribbled a couple general ideas that I came up with on a cocktail napkin, and when he couldn't come up with anything on his own, he just started shouting in my face, "THINK! THINK!!!" One night after an episode of Hell's Kitchen, he started prancing around, speaking in this bad British accent and talking to me as if I were a game show contestant. I thought it was a joke, but when I reflected that, he got really angry and told me how rude I was like 50 times and wouldn't stop until I apologized for treating him so poorly. Apparently I wasn't supposed to NOTICE that he was pretending to be Gordon Ramsey, just like nobody who looked at his Facebook page was supposed to notice that it was full of "interests" that he didnt know the first thing about.

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sometimesrosy · 6 years

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1// B protected C from herself by carrying her ass away from ALIE like it was his damn job. Jasper sounds like he's referencing a wife when he asks B, "You okay with her showing up after all this time?" We have, "You left me!" and "I knew I could (leave) because they (our kids) had you." In 3x16 Abby lets B and only B know they're ready to perform surgery on C so she can have his special support since I guess having her mom wasn't enough??? Reminiscent of how it is when you give birth.

2// C. won’t sacrifice B (won’t part with her spouse). B vows to Abby that he’ll protect C and A tells them to take care of each other. C specifically waits years for B (addresses just him) to return home to her (Odyssey stuff). B makes every choice in remembrance of C, similar to a widower. They’re married. It’s not a cutesy joke that shippers often make, it’s the reality of the text. That bond will not be broken. It’s gonna be insane when he finds out his wife is alive.

Yeah, man. I’m with you. They’re married. They were never romantic or physical, but they are absolutely, in the text, in a married relationship. Real life marriages are sometimes nonsexual. Whether they started out that way or fell into that because of life or illness or preferences, or just getting so busy and distracted the partners don’t have time for it. And sometimes they’re both okay with that. It’s like Bellarke skipped the romance and newlywed phase and went straight for 25 years together marrieds. When Bob said Bellarke transcended romance, I see it, because romance is about courting and falling in love and this is not an issue for them. They just are. Romance not needed. Bond is true and solid.

However, after 6 years apart, they’re going to need to reconnect with that bond and I predict it’s going into the romance and physical territory. Because the things that were keeping them apart will all be gone. PTSD, grief, habit, insecurity, etc. I kinda feel like romance is now needed. 6 years. Talk about bated breath.

I have trouble with talking about canon bellarke sometimes because I know fandom thinks a canon relationship is kissing/confession/sex, but what I see on screen is a canon love/commitment/married relationship. To be honest, there was even a *sort of* vow made on the beach when they drank poison. “Together” they said, and drank. Some ceremonies do actually include that kind of vow and commitment and a drink. Also a little bit like romeo and juliet but they didn’t die because there was no misunderstanding and they did it together.

In my world, kissing/confession/sex is not a real relationship. Those things are shallow and surface. You can kiss or have sex with anyone and it doesn’t mean you love them or are committed to them or care about them. And sadly, someone saying they love you, also doesn’t mean a whole lot unless they show it. What does it mean if they say they love you, but won’t let you be who you are? Is it you they love or their image of you up on a pedestal? Or if they say they love you then cheat or betray you? Talk is cheap in love and relationships. If you can’t walk the walk, then it’s not true. It might be love, but it’s not the kind of love that lasts.

What Clarke and Bellamy have is a love that lasts, even if it’s never been declared or physically consummated. We know this because not only is it lasting over 6 years, but it also lasted through the serious conflict of season 3. They weathered the storm. And came out supportive, trusting, devoted, caring, TOGETHER.

They never had time to get to the physical consummation because the world was always ending and I guess it was too important to them to treat it casually. Or it was for Bellamy anyway.

#the 100 #bellarke #soul mates #married #romantic tropes #it transcends romance #canon #it's about love

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frivery · 3 years

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The last part of this segment of the Ethereal and Tomas trilogy is completed! This isn't over between them.

Ethereal and Tomas argue. A lot. That's it, that's the thing, it's a banter piece that is quite long. POV of Ethereal. The last part is here!

The chair was on the smaller side, atleast for him, the tiefling barely fitting into it with his legs splayed out further ahead of him so he didn't have to further aggravate his hip joint on the angle. The bear-skin cloak he had been wearing had been hung over the back of the chair, a large oil-stain dripping down one side of the fur from where he had held it against the slash-mark in his wires to prevent from leaving a trail for creatures to follow him with. Ethereal was pulling off his extra layers, the furry wraps around his hands, when Lion entered the healer's tent after him.

"Get in a fight with Guide Tomas?" Ethereal commented wryly, though he didn't raise his eyes from the blackened twine he was undoing at his wrist.

"Huh? Oh, no. Mostly speaking with the elf, really." he looked up as the merc crossed the tent to sit down on the bare floor in front of him.

"The elf?" he repeated back, raising an eyebrow down at Lion.

"Yoti? I ain't remember his name." Ethereal huffed, shaking his head, though he offered no assistance. He didn't remember the healer's name either, even though this was not his first meeting with the man.

"Did ya' bring yer toolkit with ya'?"

"Of course, I don't allow a mistake to happen again after the first time."

"Where is it?" Ethereal moved to grab the bear cloak off the back of the chair, but Lion returned to his feet with the obvious intention of doing it himself. A clatter of metal sounded as the leather roll was removed from the inner pocket, the human untying it as he sat back down in front of him. Crisscross, the bag unfurled across one leg allowing access to the several different wrenches, wirecutters, screwdrivers, and more delicate instruments he had. Lion pulled the twine away from the rest of the set, placing it between his teeth before pulling his short, messy, hair back and out of his face. Tying it. Hm, he had never considered Lion could pull his 'mane' back with how short it was, but it helped to further show off his strong features. Especially the warmth of his eyes, Ethereal was almost a little jealous of the color that the Lightweaver had decided to give him.

He was pulled from his admirations of the sellsword by the sound of footsteps, lifting his eyes to the tent door just in time to see Tomas enter. Once again, he was reminded of the fact that Tomas had not seen him since he had lost a leg, lost an arm, and he no longer had a fur coat to hide in. The gold of his prosthetics was the same as his armor, but the wires crisscrossing underneath the plating was unmistakable, really. He couldn't hold his gaze on the familiar man any longer, shifting them quickly to the floor.

He didn't have to be looking to feel Tomas' eyes burning into his prosthetic arm, though.

"When did that happen?" his voice was much less harsh and combative than it had been before, as soft as he could expect all things considered.

"You'll have to be more specific." Ethereal responded, turning his gaze calculating as Lion shifted to his side and held a wrench to one of the bolts connecting his metal leg to his hip. Lion had helped him remove the bolts before, it was why he no longer was so hateful with the man, but that didn't mean he trusted him to not break something. His prosthetics were sturdy but intricate pieces of machine, unique. The only ones like them in all the world since he had created them himself with the knowledge he had stolen from the Gods. From the Stormcatcher, more specifically. It hadn't originally been for him but it had proven useful in the end. Karma, almost.

"Take off the gloves, you'll scratch the plating wearing those." he was only slightly joking, the mercenary rolling his eyes but moving to accommodate him.

"When did you lose a leg?" Tomas reiterated, suddenly, causing Ethereal to wince at him before frowning deeply.

"Seven or eight years ago, probably. Why does it matter? I'm still the best Deepscorcher in the guild, fake limbs or not." why was he being defensive about it? He had put so much time, so much work and devotion, into making these prosthetics. He wasn't shy about it, he hadn't even tried to make them look non-robotic cause he hadn't been trying to hide it. But right then it somehow felt like something he should be ashamed of. Maybe, it was because Tomas had been faced with the same choice and had decided against it.

"And your arm?"

"Six."

"Years? Months?"

"I don't make the same mistake twice, Tomas."

"Then how did you lose an arm and a leg, both?" there was an almost accusatory tone to his voice, if the words had been intended to anger him then it had worked. Ethereal had completely forgotten the situation he was in, his attempts at standing up only halted by Lion quickly pulling away with a hiss, his anger flashing away as he looked down at the human. Back into the chair he settled, at some point the wrench Lion had been using dropping to the floor, and carefully took the human's hand. His fingertips had gotten caught, it happened with fabric sometimes but rarely did other people touch his mechanics in order to get hurt like that. He wasn't sure if he blamed himself or Tomas more for it, but there was no bleeding. Would probably bruise deep.

"I'm sorry." he hated apologizing. It felt like weakness.

"Geez, Ethereal, no need to bite me just because yer a little tiffed at yer friend there." that was not the response he was expecting, he was expecting a certain amount of anger or frustration, not the same good-natured voice he usually used.

"Tiffed?" he repeated back at the human, allowing him to take his pinched hand back now, the man flexing his fingers experimentally before picking back up the wrench he had dropped.

"Try not to do it again, yeah? I rather like my fingers."

"No promises." Ethereal sagged into the chair, closing his eyes before returning his gaze to Tomas, a stray spark of irritation causing him to roll his eyes. "Can we just get to whatever it is your digging at already?"

If he had to guess based on the expression that the other tiefling had thrown at Lion it would be jealousy. Not that there was anything to be jealous of, he might flirt with the sellsword but he was fairly sure the human was straight.

"How did you lose your leg?"

"That's it? I'm a deepscorcher, how do you think it happened?" he must have been tensing for a verbal fight, the merc at his hip putting a hand on his stomach to forcibly make him lean further back into the chair again.

"I don't want to guess, Eth, I want you to tell me." Eth, a nickname... a pet name he had not heard in a decade that made him squirm lower in his seat. Having Tomas call him that while Lion was in the room, unaware of their history, felt in some ways wrong and exposing. Thankfully he seemed to be minding his own business as much as he could, focusing on loosening the bolts that kept his prosthetic leg attached to the hip socket. Fingers darkening purple from where the metal had bit him.

"I don't see that it matters how it happened, it did, I fixed it, it's over." Tomas didn't use to be so exhausting to speak with but he was fresh out of conversational energy, tone taking a dismissive edge. He could hear the other make an aggrivated sound, curse quietly under his breath, and leave the tent. At one point he would have wanted Tomas to stay but now it felt like the air had lightened without him there.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Youta, the healer, had returned to the tent and had been watching Ethereal with a certain amount of interest for the past several hours while he worked on his leg. He hadn't seen the full extent of the damage done until the leg had been pulled away from the socket, finally showing the outer side of the golden-plated steel to him and bearing the extent of the blow. A deep tear, shredding straight through the thick, protective, armor exterior and tearing open several pistons, levers, switches, and a frankly sickening amount of wires. It was a lot of damage, the majority of the oil that kept the systems within going having leaked out onto the floor at some point, and a small amount of snow had managed to wet the insides. It was surprising that it had actually continued to work well enough to get him back to the camp at all.

Wire cutters in hand, prosthetic now broken into two parts at the knee to be less awkward to handle, Ethereal began to cut away at the fraying and contaminated wires. His full focus had to be on this, the insides were too clustered and delicate for him to risk shaking hands or wandering eyes. Lion had passed out on the tent floor some time ago, curling up in the bear cloak he was not using and settling into the corner behind him, and the rest of the camp outside had went silent in a similar fashion. It was just him and Youta that were still awake at this point, as far as he could tell.

"Did you make that yourself?" Youta asked, voice quiet, Ethereal could hardly keep himself from groaning as he pulled the cutters away from the damage.

"What, you mean my leg?" joking or condescending? Why choose, he could multitask and do both.

"Yes, it looks really complicated."

"Surely no more so than being a doctor." he didn't care to continue talking to the elf, giving the other a few moments to speak with before returning to his repairs. Pulling out the broken pieces to mend them in what ways they could be. Tightening down pieces and scraping the less necessary system's wiring in order to patch the vital ones. Progress was slow but functionality was slowly seeming like a more plausible thing.

It slowly became harder to ignore the elf when he got to his feet and started to pace. His mismatched eyes casting towards the outer camp every time he would pause before starting again.

"Paranoid?" he asked, trying not to sound as aggravated as he was, winding a bolt down tight as he set the jury-rigged piston back into place. He'd have to be gentle on it.

"I'm an elf." was all he responded with, standing stock still for a long moment before approaching the tent's flap and drawing it aside. A cold gust followed, but it didn't remain open like that long as Tomas re-entered the tent looking like he had just woken up in pain. The healer quickly moved to help him walk, assisting the hurting tiefling in sitting down on the overly plush bed before skittering off to the side of the tent like a rat to retrieve something.

Tomas' eyes were closed, fingers gripping the plush grey fabric tight, as he breathed like he was counting. Obviously in a lot of pain, something Ethereal understood better than he had once thought he would. Once he had sworn, insisted, that prosthetics were better than living with the pains of shorn flesh but now he was less certain of it. His prosthetics could still break, could still leave him unfunctional, and the phantom pains he got when he tried to sleep was, at times, blinding. Sometimes, as he struggled to breathe through the ghost pain, he could taste the steel on his tongue.

Pale ice eyes cracked open as the wave seemed to lessen, lingering over the pulled apart pieces of machine that Ethereal was working on. For a brief moment he wondered if Tomas ever regretted not taking his advice, just like how he sometimes regretted doing it.

Youta stood back up, a glass vial with a deep green liquid in hand, quickly returning to his boss' side with it.

"Youta." a commanding tone to take for someone struggling to breathe, but Tomas managed it, not breaking the strained eye contact that had started.

"Yes?"

"The vial."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Give me the vial, please." the elf looked confused, glancing at him as if asking for help but Ethereal wasn't really sure what was happening here.

"Don't you need help?"

"Ethereal will help me." Oh, would he now? Tomas said this in an even, powerful, tone that made it difficult to argue with and Youta blanked for a long moment trying to figure out how to respond.

"But he's-?"

"Thank you, Youta." wow, and he thought he was dismissive. The healer frowned but handed the vial over to the other tiefling, leaving the tent like a subject fleeing his king. Now it was just the two of them and a very unconscious Lion, that man could sleep through the end of the world.

"You know, I don't even have my prosthetic put together right now." he commented wryly, trying to ignore the thick pressure on the air between them.

"I know, I can wait." the ice dragon dropped back onto the bed, as if to patiently wait despite the pain he was no doubt suffering with. A moment of silence passed between them, Ethereal staring at the prone form, before he sighed. Tomas had always known how to play him, it was no different even now.

"Give me a moment, Tomas." he relented, the weak sound of submission on his voice even as he hated it.

"I'm not rushing you." if he didn't know any better he would have missed the slightly smug tone to the other's voice, but he chose to pretend to have missed it as he carefully began to reconnect the different, mauled, pieces in his leg. Putting the pieces together was easy after that, the last part being to reattach to the hip joint but... doing that without help was not exactly the easiest thing in the world. Retightening down the bolts he could get to would have to do, his hesitation at risking trying to use the prosthetic again when it was still so broken only washed away by a soft, somewhat stiffled, pained sound from the other side of the tent.

It had been a fucking decade, he had moved on, but hearing it still hurt him in a way that was indescribable. So, into the battery he fed the remnants of his magic, he could feel the circuit start and though he could also feel some leakage... it would work. Ethereal, carefully, got to his feet and crossed the tent. He quietly pulled aside the healer's... stool he supposed, a padded foot-rest that was kept next to the bed, sitting down in front of the plush bed.

"I need the vial, Tomas." the voice sounded weird in how own mouth, like dust and dirt and broken things, the ice tiefling shuddering similarly but he wasn't sure if it was from pain or the way he sounded just then. Soft, weak. He had loved Tomas but looking back he hated how weak it had made him. It had taken losing his leg, losing his arm, to remember what he was. Who he had to be.

The familiar figure, his ex, shifted on the bed and slowly dragged himself back up into a sitting posture, handing him the vial in an almost lethargic way. He could feel the piercing intensity of Tomas' eyes as he pulled off one of his boots, and away the sock beneath. Tattered, poorly healed, and warped flesh was underneath, slightly red with irritation that came from the nerves misfiring. The scarring was deep and completely random in intensity. He could still remember when this happened, could see it in his mind, anger and fear and distress pouring out of him in a destructive rush that burned the predator to ashes. He had barely even registered as a mage ever since, every ounce of his fractured magic now used to power his own prosthetics that had come after. He remembered dropping to the ground next to his injured love, covering his eyes, muttering a repeating phrase that he couldn't recall as he wrapped the torn flesh in every bandage and cloth he had at his disposal.

His hands were shaking, at some point he had brushed his real hand across the wounded skin, but the reason was not for medicinal ones. The vial still unopened in his metal grip.

"Looks awful doesn't it?" Tomas' voice was filled with.. disgust? Distaste? Dissatisfaction? But he didn't know if it was with his reaction or with himself. Ethereal pulled the dropped from its glass container, swallowing down the old sickness in his throat, silently dripping the strange-scented liquid onto Tomas' bare leg.

"It's... awful that you have to live with the pain of it." he responded, not looking up at the other tiefling. He knew exactly what he had started when it came out of his mouth.

"That again?" Tomas almost snarled, giving Ethereal pause as he moved to begin rubbing the green potion into oldwounds.

"I.... do not begrudge your decision, it was yours to make, I just hate seeing you hurt so much." this softness was killing him, Tomas had a way of making him a very particular man without even lifting a finger. It was sickening, twisted, though it was not his fault. It was just his sheer presence that had this kind of effect on him... or so it often felt that way. "That was what I had been trying to say then too, but we both know how bad I am with wording."

Silence followed his words, leaving him to the task that Tomas had given him, too much of a coward to risk even a glance at the face of the man who he had once thought was his forever. It was silly to think that, of course, Deepscorchers don't get happy endings. It was the agreement he made when he joined, not to get too attached to those outside. He had broken that rule and tragedy struck to remind him of his place... it was too bad that it had been Tomas paying the price for it.

"Do you ever regret it?"

"Regret what?" he regretted a lot of things, but there was nothing to be done for it.

"Regret the choice that you made, replacing your limbs with fake ones."

"How do you know it was a choice at all?" a few more drops of the slick liquid on scarred skin, he could feel the calming, numbing, sensation in his hand as he pulled away.

"Was it?" he let the silence stand for a few moments as he took off Tomas' other boot to repeat the process again. The tall shoes now put off to the side in a set, the socks stuffed inside so they wouldn't get dirtied by the bare ground floor of the tent. At least there was no snow.

"Yes, it was... and yes, I do regret it sometimes. When I wake up at night and it feels like I'm cutting my arm off again, or when my prosthetics get damaged. It's hard not to regret it, but it serves its purpose. I can still be a Deepscorcher like this... I do not think Judgement would have let me stay if I had made any other choice."

"Eth, you cut your own-" a concern lilt to his voice, Ethereal didn't back away this time raising his eyes to meet the other tiefling's pale blue ones in a challenge.

"My own arm off? Yes, I did, and my leg before it. I doubt any healing done on my part would have went as well as yours did. Injured solitude does not lend well to that kind of thing and I was not interested in the alternative."

"Of being like me?" now Tomas' sounded hurt, less hostile and more upset. Ethereal pulled back now, shaking his head as he glanced around the tent. Lion was still curled up on the floor like a dog, out like a light, and Youta had not chanced a reappearance. Still just them, too intimate and alone.

"I would not have been like you, Tomas, I'm like you now. If I hadn't cut away what was broken I would have never walked again, would have lost full use of one of my arms, what would you expect me to do?"

"Was it that bad?" the tiefling almost sounded desperate for another answer, there wasn't one. He could see the sickening splinters in his eyes as he stared through the other man now.

"Yes, a thousand times yes, there was no healing from the splintering of bone. No fixing the complete decimation."

"Would it have been so bad to not be able to walk then? To not write?" why was he asking this? Why was this conversation continuing?

"What are you getting at, I love being a guide I need to walk."

"Must you? There are other means to move with." continuing to desperately press, it felt like ten years ago but reversed onto him... after the choice had already been made. More owed karma.

"What is this about, Tomas, do you see me as less whole now that I'm missing my arm? Less complete?" it took everything in him to keep his tone down, he didn't know why the thought prickled with hurt so much. Even if Tomas did see him as less with his prosthetics why would it matter? They had been bitter exs for years.

"Do you?" was Tomas tearing up? The shot back question prompting the ice tiefling to pull away from Ethereal's hands, hands balling up the thick quilted blanket as if he was in pain once more.

"Wha-? No, Light's blessing, Tomas, why would you ever think I felt any differently about you for that?"

"How could I think any differently when you-"

"Don't start with that, you know how things ended. You left me, I didn't leave you, we may have argued but I just wanted what I thought was best for you then."

"You tried to talk me into having my legs cut off so I could better use prosthetics, were the scars too much for you? Did you think I would become too needy?"

"I thought it would hurt you less in the long run, and I was wrong. There isn't anything more to it." like trying to calm a storm, useless but he would continue to try.

"Isn't there?"

"I know you want there to be something else, some alternative motive that will justify how things ended, but there isn't. We disagreed, we broke up, there doesn't have to be more to it. Please stop trying to make this what it wasn't." Ethereal waited a long moment, expecting a rebuttal or biting word, but Tomas said nothing. He was tired of arguing and fighting, of spiting hate between the two of them because it had ended, so he let the silence stay. What else was he meant to say, that he was sorry? He had already apologized, there was nothing else. He carefully took the other man's untreated leg, something that Tomas allowed, and returned to applying the medicine to the pained scars.

Ethereal closed the bottle, setting it down on the floor next to the stool he was sitting on, and began to carefully put the woolen socks back onto Tomas' feet. An intimate gesture that felt strange and vintage now, though he had no doubt Youta did this as well.

"I just..." the voice had him pausing to glance at the ice tiefling as he seemed to be trying to figure out how to speak. "I loved you so much, I thought you felt the same, how can something like that just go away?"

He didn't respond immediately, he wasn't sure if Tomas had actually been expecting one to begin with, standing from the stool to put the numbed tiefling's shoes back on before returning his eyes to his ex's face. Pale blues staring through him, rather than at him, lips pulled into a firm line to keep any further thoughts to himself. His own hand was numb with the same concoction that was used to help, leading to his touch barely ghosting over the other's face. The softest caress, just enough to cause Tomas to refocus on him.

"It doesn't, things just change." Ethereal lightly placed a peck onto his once-lover's cheek, as much as he was willing to give, before pulling away in a move that seemed to confuse Tomas. He was done, this part of his life was over, the Deepscorcher beginning to put his gloves back on.

"Lion!" the sharp command, mixed with his name, was really the only thing that could wake such a man. He slept so well he could make the dead jealous. The human sat bolt up in his make-shift bed of bear fur, ginger-blond hair a mess and eyes blurry with sleep.

"We're leaving, it's a long trip back to headquarters and I'm not giving Leesil an excuse to substitute for me."

Lion yawned, rubbing a hand over his face and getting to his un-even feet.

"Leesil's... pretty smart, ya'know. I think they can handle it."

"That's not the point, the Tempest Spire is my domain and I'll be damned if Leesil, of all people, will be taking that from me." A goofy, tired, smile was Lion's response. "Get ready, we're leaving once I say goodbye to Amor."

"Yes, Sir. Couldn't let the less experienced Deepscorchers see the empty throne of the Stormcatcher, it might demoralize them." Ethereal ignored the mocking tone, instead turning his eyes to Tomas one more time.

"Goodbye, Tomas. Try not to get into more trouble than you can get yourself out of."

"That's... that's it?"

"Yes, that's it." a professional bow before he left the tent, ripping the emotional bandage off full-force. Was it kind the way he handled things with Tomas? No. But, he felt like that chapter of his life was fully closed now, like he wouldn't be thinking about the 'what ifs' between them so much anymore.

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lokicosplaymonkishu · 7 years

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Something Beautiful (Brutasha) Ch9: Remember, reveal, realize, react

The Age of Ultron begins. Yet there is so much more that has just started for Natasha and Bruce.

preview:

Mission accomplished, scepter returned to safety, minimal casualties, cut of a few more of HYDRA's heads and kept the Hulk under control. Everything had worked out fine so why couldn't she shake this ominous feeling?

Despite being mostly impervious against alcohol she wanted to mix herself something strong to enjoy the evening despite her current mood. But merely the smell of the strong liquor brought back her nausea with full force. She sighed and rubbed her belly before preparing something fancy without alcohol.

As soon as she saw Banner walking towards her everything else disappeared and her heart swelled with the love she had for him. He had done great in the fight, even protected her and Clint when he got critically injured. The thought about how this prestigious, heroic piece of man belonged to her made her lips curve in a smile, ready to get into flirt mode when she saw him doing just that.

"How'd a nice girl like you wind up working in a dump like this?" he asked her with that specific tilt of his head when he did something cheeky.

"Fella done me wrong." Natasha replied and adapted to his way of pretending to only just to meet her while filling up a glass for him as well.

"You got lousy taste in men, kid." He said with sly humor in his tone.

"He's not so bad. Well, he has a temper. Deep down he's all fluff." She leaned forward and made sure to capture his eyes with her gaze. "Fact is, he's not like anybody I've ever known. All my friends are fighters." She started to play with her drink and was delighted in the way he tensed up after her next words. "And here comes this guy, spends his life avoiding the fight because he knows he'll win."

Bruce had quickly recovered from how she had portrayed him. "Sounds amazing."

And now for the finale. "He's also a huge dork." When she saw him almost choking she continued with the biggest secret of all. "Chicks dig that." Time to show him that she'd go all the way with tonight. Well, maybe not in her current condition - despite the 'problem' had magically almost stopped this morning -, but going… down would be an option. "So what do you think? Should I fight this? Or run with it?"

That look she gave him was her telltale sign of revealing that he'd be a very lucky man as soon as they returned to their quarters. "Run with it, right?"

She grinned and gave the slightest of nods before her eyes showed him an even deeper meaning than simple sex. "All the way."

Holy shit, had Natasha just indirectly told him she was open to have a family with him? His astonished and baffled face must have been an entertaining sight since her reaction was the most joyful and delighted smile he had ever seen on her. "Isn't there anything that might be an insurmountable obstacle?" He fell out of his role. "What about… our jobs? Is the current situation not a bit too… dangerous? Our lives might never be calm enough to… pull this through..."

"Will it ever not be?" She sipped on her drink and arched an eyebrow. "But never say never." Natasha winked at him before wandering off to the others. She didn't even understand what foolish emotion had brought her to agreeing to this. It was childishly stupid to think there would ever be a chance. But the thought was just too wonderful to not consider. And as far as she had found out through the scientists' report the child could actually turn out to be normal.

The second she had retreated and was out of sight Steve walked over to him with a big smile on his face. "It's nice."

Bruce still had to come to terms with what she had just agreed to. They both knew this right now was a bad moment to consider kids, yet someday… he would be a father of a child. "What, what, what is?" He stumbled over the words.

Steve made a gesture with his head. "You and Romanoff."

Did he hear them? Well, of course he did. "No, we haven't, that wasn't…"

"It's okay, nobody's breaking any by-laws." Yet his look told him that we wanted to see his friends married before any children arrived. "It's just, she's not the most… motherly person in the world despite her being a great leader. With all the weight on her shoulders she'd have a hard time stepping aside from the superhero business for nine months."

Yes, there's that...

He patted on Banner's shoulder. "But with you she seems very relaxed about the topic which truly surprises me."

Don't destroy the nice moment, Bruce thought with his mouth opened in shock before he found his speech again. "No, Natasha, she...she stays faithful to the priorities she sets. And even when it comes to caring for the child, I mean, I am totally devoted to the responsibility and fine with it."

He had to chuckle at Banner's stoic expression. "Just joking. Of course our Nat's gonna be a great ma. She's earned it to have her long given up wish fulfilled." Then he got back to his awkward, typically Steve-like demeanor. "Look… As maybe the world's leading authority on 'waiting too long'...don't. You both deserve a win." He gave him a heads up before walking away with the words: "But I wanna be the child's godfather."

Bruce stood there entirely baffled until he could think again. The statement brought so many things to his mind. The child would grow up among the Avengers, protected and loved. This team was his family and, maybe soon, Natasha and he would add more to its numbers. Then, in a stupid moment of clarity, he remembered the most important thing. "You will have to talk to Natasha about that, not me. She's the boss." He chuckled and sipped from his beer, entertaining himself the beautiful fantasies that could be his family one day.

Natasha had listened to the scene playing out from a safe distance. It was such a foolish idea. Now wasn't the right time. Her body and heart said yes but her conscience said no. So now that she had agreed she would have to stall it in any way possible. A few years maybe. Bruce wasn't the youngest anymore, but he still had at least a decade until it would get awkward to have a child.

read the whole chapter:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11183611/9/Something-Beautiful

http://archiveofourown.org/works/3739699/chapters/21105644

#brutasha #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #hulk #avengers #something beautiful

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