#beatles crackfic

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

John, in 1971 probably: You have to kill the misogynist inside you who says things like "women belong in the kitchen" and "John, I promise you will be okay if you stop physically touching your wife for two minutes"

#the weird intersection of progressive ideals and astounding toxicity that johnandyoko represent is endlessly fascinating to me lol #i kinda wanna make a crackfic about this #fiona.docx #jy #beatles crack

[tapewormoffthestring]

deleted all my old bandom fic bookmarks on ao3 and it felt like tossing remnants of a past you wish to forget into the fire

#why was i reading all that fanfiction about REAL PEOPLE........................................ #anyways its all osc in there now. the only trace of my bandom days is in my fucking username and that weird fob x beatles crackfic i wrote

[thiefbird]

E, n, u for the letters ask please! 🖖

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

Yes, but not recently! These were back in early early high school. I wrote a very short, very bad Draco Malfoy/Apple(as in the fruit) fic once. I hope to god it has been lost to time. I will not tell anyone what my fanfiction dot net username was. I also wrote a Doctor Who/Supernatural/Sherlock/X Files/Star Trek: The Original Series/Warehouse 13/The Yellow Submarine(not Beatles RPF because the only character was Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD aka The Nowhere Man)/Invader Zim crackfic extravaganza in collab with @gabrielnovakgoestomyschool (there may have been another fandom that I forgot). I do not know if it has survived the passage of time. I almost hope it did. They were all in this incredibly Escher-esque grocery store trying to get milk. I guess recently I accidentally wrote "Loghain Mac Tit" instead of "Loghain Mac Tir" when starting a post, took one look at it, and just posted it without further elaboration. I don't know if anyone ELSE thought it was funny, but I definitely did.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

Anders - I love an underdog, I love a revolutionary, I love a pathetic tall man who looks like he hasn't slept in a month, I love a man who will make Those Sounds when he kisses me. Also he loves cats and complaining; same, Anders. More seriously, I think he's a deeply misunderstood character by both those around him in canon, by his writing team and Bioware as a whole, and by the general fandom(not any of my beloved mutuals, we are all in the Right About Anders club); despite this, I do think he is a cohesive character. I just don't necessarily think that he is a cohesive character on purpose. I love the implications of his bonding with Justice, and the avenues it opens up for writing. I fully believe that Anders believes that he corrupted Justice into Vengeance, and that Vengeance is a demon; I just don't believe it's true.

Stephen Maturin - Ohhh, Stephen, my beloved. Patrick O'Brian cooked you up in a lab specifically to make me insane (nevermind the fact that I was three years old when he died) - mine is a fated obsession, to the point that I actually had a crazy-dramatic, toxic relationship with an autistic Trinity College naturalist for four and a half years directly out of high school; my brain simply had not fully learned that Stephen Maturin existed (I'd seen the movie once or twice and listened to the soundtrack ad nauseum because of my mother but never payed much attention), and fixated on the next best thing. Here is my Stephen Maturin propaganda: He's a tiny, angry little man who calls animals and friends and his wife alike "honey" and "my dear" and "acushla/a chuisle" (I will never forget the "awwwwwwww" that came from my mouth the one time he called Tom Pullings honey). He calls his best friend "soul" and "joy", and his other best friend "honey-bun". He's an International Super Spy, one of the most effective in the British service, and refuses to be paid for it because he hates tyranny so much (he does not like English colonialism either, but he has decided that England is the best way to beat Napoleon). He's an Irish and Catalan revolutionary (I did say I love a revolutionary), who is somewhat in hiding in the first book because of his associations with The Society of United Irishmen, and therefore connections to the Irish Uprising of 1798. Despite this impressive resume, this man has never met a boat or ship he is not in danger of not falling out of - he has been at sea for the better part of twenty years by the end of the series, and he still must be Carefully Watched to make sure he does not drown, or get soaked through to the skin. He is an acclaimed surgeon, with a miraculous success rate. He is also a renowned natural philosopher who has discovered multiple species, including a giant tortoise. He is the least tidy or fastidious man in all of creation, and is constantly covered in blood and/or winestains and/or crumbs. He pours alcohol over surgical sites not because he knows of germ theory, but because he thinks it'll help with pain. The only non-familial friend he's had longer than Jack Aubrey(who lives longer than the first book. Sorry James, ily) is Adhemar de la Mothe, a known and flamboyantly queer Parisian. He regularly says that he does not see the harm in sodomy so long as no one is harassing the ship's boys, and that anything that adds more love to the world seems a good thing. He loses his mind over a woman, and the more awful she is to him the more he loses it.

Speaking of Diana Villiers - Oh, Diana. I am fully in understanding with Stephen over you. A beautiful, headstrong woman who can ride better than most men, stuck in the most boring atmosphere of Southern England with her aunt and cousins after the death of her husband and her father both made her leave India - I cannot blame her for many of her actions. Diana is a fascinating character, and to me she is proof of Patrick O'Brian's writing ability. Most authors of Men Go To War books don't really seem to know how to write women very well (C.S. Forester I am looking at you. I do not know who Maria is outside of her fawning over Hornblower), but Diana is a fully fledged person from the moment we meet her setting her horse over a gate, despite the fact that we never see any of the events of the twenty books through her eyes. Not only is she a fully realised character, but she is one that shows his understanding of the setting he writes in. Diana Villiers is coping with grief - not only grief for her husband and her father, but for her independence. Her life in India, keeping house for her father from her mid-teens, would have been almost as different as one can imagine from the life of a poor relation take in on charity by a widowed aunt. She feels stifled in the English countryside, forced to play second fiddle to her cousins in order to keep the peace and a roof over her head. I cannot blame her for toying with men's hearts as a source of entertainment. Going into keeping with Canning is Diana's attempt to regain at least some measure of independence, and it is successful, to some extent. She has money, she is back in a country she finds familiar and exciting - but she also has a jealous, suspicious lover who employs their servants as spies to watch her activities, and little company because she is herself a scandal. Stephen's proposal offers her a way out of her situation; it also, to her, seems like a loss of freedom, not only because Stephen loves her, but also because she loves him, and that terrifies her. So she instead runs away with Johnson to America. Johnson, of course, is worse than Canning, and she leaves him temporarily, but then her freedom in England is threatened, again, this time by suspicions of intelligence work (I always wonder just how she got tied up so tightly in Mrs Wogan's subterfuge; did Johnson have something to do with it?), and surprise! Johnson is there to whisk her away from the danger. But he's worse still, and Stephen manages to intervene(yay Stephen) and get her away and back to Europe. This just keeps happening. Diana wants something that is almost entirely impossible for a woman in the period she lives in: liberty. Anything that could interfere with her freedom and independence is avoided at any cost - even her own feelings for Stephen. Especially her feelings for Stephen. She also, to me as someone with BPD/cPTSD now pretty well in remission, reads as a very empathetic and accurate portrayal of someone with BPD/cPTSD. Personally I think Being A Woman In The Late 1700s is enough reason on its own to have it(and we don't know enough of Diana's life before the Peace of Amiens to speculate on other Sources Of Trauma other than the death of her husband and father), but a lot of her hot-and-cold feels so familiar to me. She can be so cruel, and mean it fully in the moment she's saying it, but almost immediately regret her cruelty while still doubling down because she feels she has no other options.

Wow. This got really long. I hope everyone enjoys my Aubreyad Opinions Of The Day

#ask game #thiefbird speaks

[sortanonymous]

A vent about my uncertain writing (distant) future that really doesn't matter much

You know, it's weird whenever I think about what I could write after Meta Knightmare is over (which I'll just say that I know when that ending will come). I mean I could just eek out some more side stuff, some of which I've wanted to make for a while (might even include some Kirby stuff not connected to MKM), and I would like to make YouTube videos of whatever I want instead of just lounging on AO3 forever. But I keep thinking up ideas of fics I could make for other things I love like Steven Universe and especially Angry Birds (definitely have some thoughts for the latter). At the same time though, with what ideas I have for those, I'm worried that it would just be too much like a retread of Meta Knightmare. I might just make another action-tinted dramedy filled with so many crazy AU ideas with varying amounts of canon compliance that it borders on crackfic, yet tons of heart and found family stuff at the same time. Who knows if I'd even move on past the outline format? Granted, I love using those tropes with Kirby, but I'm worried that if I apply it to those other things, then I may as well just be writing Meta Knightmare again but with a new coat of paint like it's a new LEGO game. Not to mention that it feels comfortable with Kirby because not only is there plenty of material in the base games, but the lore is so extensive while leaving plenty of stuff wide open to the point where even flipping fundamental canon on its head feels suprisingly alright. But while Angry Birds has the characters to potentially work in my style, the world and stuff is nowhere near as extensive to have an easy time fitting into something good unless I try to just rip off the movie or maybe go straight for Angry Birds Stella (which I love, but I'd like to give the main flock some love first, especially the found family idea with ALL OF THEM, even the more forgotten ones). Steven Universe, which I haven't even thought that much about, kinda has the opposite problem in that while it has tons of lore, it's largely open and shut in a way that it isn't that fun to imagine changes to it. Not to mention that even if I tried some of that family theme stuff, a lot of that in my existing work is kinda inspired heavily by SU in the first place. It'd be kinda like if a growing rock band with heavy inspiration from the Beatles tried covering the Beatles and trying to make it sound way different from either of them while still respecting the feel of the originals. Good luck with that. (Admittedly though, I did just come up with a Spinel AU idea that absolutely blew my mind, but I'm not so sure if I'll still have the mood for it by the time MKM's over, which won't be for quite a while. I might just throw it out there for someone else to write in the comments if anyone asks.)

Why am I even talking about this? I've got 12 of the 26 chapters of MKMIII left to write with 4 already published! If I'm no more than halfway through my first fanfic project, then maybe I shouldn't be thinking just yet about my next project. Also now Magolor's in the fic and with how much Magolor instantly makes fans flock to any fic, I may as well bask in the hits while I can! A big thank you to my readers, by the way!

#meta knightmare fanfic #I'll explain the steven universe au i thought up if you press me on it #vent about nothing important #writers on tumblr #writer's block that won't actually happen until like a year from now #what am i even doing #don't be too shocked if i repost this in a year and laugh at it #steven universe au? #ramblings #for both my followers i'm sorry that you still aren't getting the kirby stuff i promised #i'm doing fine i just felt a little uncertain about my writing future and got my ramble on

[fineosaur]

First of all I'm impressed by the productivity second of all I'd like to know about canon-obscured by stars!

ahhaha thank you ila! productivity would have to be objective because i have some of these fics that have been in the works for 3 years 😭

and canon - obscured by clouds (the name is from the pink floyd album) is actually a crack fic i started after a convo with @hendrikfaheys who told me about a fic where theon flirts with robb and robb is so confused and believes that theon is possessed because why on earth would he be acting this way ???

(i also love the name because i remember my first crackfic was named after the beatles album "help!" and every chapter was named after a track so i thought why not do the same this time around.)

i thought it would be EVEN funnier of a crackfic if i put it into a canon setting. here is a snippet because i love it so much:

chapter one: obscured by clouds 

track one: robb

“And what does your father think?”

“I haven’t spoken to him about it yet, I came straight here in anger,” Robb explained. “I hoped that you would be training, not them. Then maybe I could stab you a little.” 

He watched the apple in Theon’s throat bob with his suggestion. Every part of how Theon was behaving was entirely bizarre. 

The black-haired man took a step closer to Robb. This time he settled a hand over Robb’s leather jerkin, slowly bringing it over his shoulder. 

It felt odd, it left goose-pimples over his body. 

“Perhaps we could do something about it later?” 

“Are you feeling okay?” Robb asked. His concern extended when he took a step closer to his friend and saw how wide his pupils were. 

“Yeah, of course, why?” Theon told him quickly. He kept his gaze on Robb and fluttered down and back to his eyes. 

“No reason.”

Robb allowed a safe distance between the two of them once again, trying to forget the strange series of events that had just transpired between him and his friend, choosing to walk towards his sister to channel his frustrations. 

He held a hand out to block Bran, twisting his sword away and instructing him to “teach” their baby brother. 

“You and me, sister— what do you say?”

Arya welcomed any challenge. She quirked a smile and swirled her sword. 

“Has our mother been drilling you about possible marriages?” Arya taunted.

#thank you for this ask ila it was fun to think about this wip again #ive been so focused on work and my other wips that are currently on ao3 that i briefly forgot how much fun crackfics are #throbb #theon x robb #robb stark #theon greyjoy #my writing #obscured by clouds #asoiaf crackfic #asks #team-mom-wannabe

[jamboreeofsurprises]

Do you have an acc on Ao3? Or on any other fanfiction sites?

when i was about 14 i had a joint ffnet account with my childhood friend in which we wrote illustrious beatles, queen etc crackfic which were submitted to the "marching band" category in lieu of an actual music artists category, as one did not exist on that site. this was something we worked on during sleepovers, taking turns writing which beatle would be the next to die romantically in the others' arms

#ask box

[ao3feed-jarchie]

My Babysitter’s a SuperGleeDalePotter SMP

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/t5uQVpw

by hey_shawtie, womenwantmefishfearme69

Everyone has a hero, the Orlando Elementary School bulldogs hero is dr*am until he tears his ACL, like a wimp.

we hit the tag limit so also includd are: funz choni watt quatt our irl, BigD authors brother, sam irl from school, sam mcgonagall badboyhalo skeppy madam pomfrey skephalo karlnap will schuester (deragatory) castiel (deragatory) badlinu tommyinnit (i hate him) sarah fox aimsey billzo karl sapnap note: aimsey, badlinu, and billzo do not deserve this utter bullshit

Words: 997, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Dream SMP, Supernatural (TV 2005), Glee, Riverdale (TV 2017), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Bella and the Bulldogs (TV), My Babysitter's A Vampire, The Beatles (Band)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Other

Characters: Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Bartemius Crouch Jr., Evan Rosier, Regulus Black, Alexis | Quackity, Wilbur Soot, Rachel Berry, Dorcas Meadowes, Erica Jones, Quinn Fabray, Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Jughead Jones, Dean Winchester, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lily Evans Potter, Archie Andrews, Marlene McKinnon, Uncle Sam (Character), Sam Puckett, Luke | Punz, GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Sam Winchester, Ethan Morgan, Betty Cooper, Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Sam | Awesamdude, Scott Morrison, Froy Gutierrez, Rory Keaner, Benny Weir, Sam Evans (Glee), Blaine Anderson, Noah Brown | Foolish Gamers, Toby Smith | Tubbo, Corpse Husband (Video Blogging RPF), Sykkuno (Video Blogging RPF), Sue Sylvester, Phil Watson | Philza, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ringo Starr, Paul McCartney, John Lennon, George Harrison (The Beatles), Troy Bolton

Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Regulus Black/James Potter, Bartemius Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Alexis | Quackity/Wilbur Soot, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Archie Andrews/Jughead Jones, Sam Evans/Quinn Fabray, Mary Macdonald/Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Ranboo/Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Corpse Husband/Sykkuno (Video Blogging RPF), Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, George Harrison/John Lennon/Paul McCartney/Ringo Starr

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, American Football, Band Fic, crackfic, slowburn, author is funny, author insert

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/t5uQVpw

#ao3feed #fanfic #jarchie #riverdale #jughead x archie #ifttt

[kalypsichor]

five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader] part three

chapter summary: Ringo is sweet. George is dumb and emotionally-constipated. At this point you’re more likely to go to jail than pass your midterms. Oh, and Paul is going to get his ass whipped. parts one and two here

warnings: 1.1k of chaos

borhap reference if ya squint. astericks indicate nerdy-ass footnotes which will be at the bottom

masterlist

Even with the nice noise-cancelling headphones you’d gotten for your birthday, you can still hear them going at it in the living room. Every melodic break is punctuated by George’s yelling and Paul’s shrill, defensive hollars. There’s a drum break and, really, you aren’t sure whether that was the crash of a cymbal or something being thrown. You pray it’s the former.

The door to your bedroom opens and Ringo slips in, closing it quietly behind him. Removing your headphones, you only catch the tail-end of what he says.

“-ing to?”

“Huh?”

He smiles and sits next to you on the bed. “I asked what you’re listening to.”

“Oh!” You scoot over to give Ringo more room, not that there is much to begin with—as the only girl, you’d gotten a bedroom all to yourself. This has many perks, such as not having to see the boys’ bare arses and getting to have lots of… alone time. The downside is having the smallest fucking bedroom ever. “It’s some band called the Crickets.”

“Some band?” Ringo takes the offered earbud. “You mean the most popular rock band in the sixties? The first all-woman group to be signed to a record label*, the one that revolutionised the era’s socio-cultural movements?”

“You are a total dork,” you laugh, turning up the volume to one of your favorite songs.

“I grew up in the city where they were formed! ‘Some band’...” He shakes his head with mock disgust. “Don’t disrespect JennyPatsyGilandRita** like that ever again.”

“Why d’you say their names like that?”

“You have to. It’s like… ” Ringo adjusts himself on your pillows and you lean your head on his shoulder, careful not to bump his cast. “It’s like JohnandPaul. You couldn’t say PaulandJohn… that would just be weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“Ace comeback, that was.”

The flat has quieted by now but you don’t notice over your bickering until a knock sounds on the door. George pokes his head in and his face makes an odd expression at the two of you giggling together.

“Hey.” George calls your name softly. “Something, erm, something happened in the kitchen.”

“... what do you mean?”

He looks at the floor. “ItwasPaul’sfault.”

“It was NOT MY FUCKING FAULT,” Paul shouts from afar. You narrow your eyes and hop off the bed, stomping up to George who suddenly looks very terrified.

“When I find out, you won’t have anywhere to hide, Harrison,” you hiss. He takes a very small step back. You press a finger into his (very firm) chest, look him hard in the eye, and then stalk into the hallway.

“You know that scene in Wonder Woman?”

“What?” George blinks, bewildered at Ringo’s non-sequitur. “What are you talking about?”

“Y’know, the one where Gal Gadot throws that bad guy across the pub… and Chris Pine is all-” Ringo stands up and makes a shocked face. “And then the other guy says ‘I’m both… frightened and aroused’ or something like that.”

“Um.”

“Yeah.” The older boy walks past him, pauses, and pats him on the shoulder with his not-bad wrist. “That’s you, Geo.”

And then George is all alone, standing in the doorway to your room. Your headphones are still blaring music. He crosses the room to turn it off and, on second-thought, puts them into his ears and sits down. Ringo’s favorite band. George turns the boy’s words over in his head. Thinks about how happy you had looked, laughing with Ringo just moments before. Falls backwards onto the bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

“Fuck,” he says to the ceiling, and the Crickets’ drummer agrees with a particularly loud crash.

---

Fuck is what John says when he sees your expression. “Fuck,” he repeats and then laughs, turning to Paul. “You are so fucking fucked.”

Paul ignores him. “Look,” he says, backing away from your glare. He eyes the weapon you’ve picked up in your hand. “I didn’t mean—I mean, it was really Geo that did it, y’know. He was going off about the whole shower thing, which is really, y’know, not my fault anyway. And then I—well, he—so. That’s why, uh.” He gestures at the wreckage. “Y’know.”

“If you say y’know one more time I will shove this so far up your arse you’ll be tasting espresso for weeks.“

John, who’s been watching this whole exchange like a ping pong match, snickers. “Kinky.”

“Not the coffee machine,” Ringo protests. He’s standing a safe distance away, only a foot from the door out of which he could escape at any given moment.

You’re not even pissed, not really. No, this is funny. This whole day, you’ve been holding in a truly terrible cackle, a tickling pressure that’s been building and building and building. After your conversation with Ringo you’d thought that maybe it would go away (he had that effect on people) but this. This is making bells and whistles go off in your cranium as something in you spirals into insanity. Wheeeeeee! Yes, you’re not angry because it’s funny, it’s absolutely hilarious that the universe has got it out for you, that nothing is going your way.

Paul has spilled coffee all over your stuff. ‘Stuff’ being your textbooks, your lecture notes, your meticulously organized pens. The pages are starting to dry already, large patches of brown blurring words together (of the right chapter!) and making the paper brittle-looking, like the Declaration of Independence you’d once seen on tv. That was the movie with Nicholas Cage, you think to yourself. I hope they have televisions in jail, you comment internally. I haven’t seen that movie in so long!

The whole flat is dead silent and tense, so tense the air feels thicker and no one, not even John, dares to move. One wrong step and the whole thing will blow. Paul stares at you. You stare at the kitchen table. With a surprisingly stable hand, you set the coffee pot back onto the tabletop. It plops down with a wet squelch and—

You laugh. You bring your hands up to your face and just laugh, shoulders shaking. You cry with laughter because your binder is soaked through with what look like shit stains, the floor that had been wet with George-puddle this morning is now sopping with cold espresso, Paul is mouthing Hail Mary’s, and Ringo’s practically got a foot out the door. Slowly, hesitantly, everyone else starts laughing too. George, who has been standing in the hallway the entire time, feels something spidery trickle down his spine.

“I knew you’d come ‘round,” Paul says. He comes to your side of the table and claps a hearty hand on your shoulder.

You stop laughing and smile, smile so hard it hurts. Very, very slowly, you look at Paul’s hand and then his eyes, which seem to realize something with a dawning horror.

“Oh, Paul.” You shake your head and reach up to grasp his hand. He goes to take it away but your grip is vice-like. “I’m going to fucking murder you.”

The door slams shut behind Ringo.

* the actual first all-woman group to be signed to a record label: Goldie & the Gingerbreads, to Atlantic Records in 1964. so this would be true, assuming our pseudo-beatles band was formed at the same time the beebles were (1960)

** in the top 100 girl's names in england around 1944: 2. patricia, 18. jennifer, 23. gilliam, 41. rita. I DO MY FUCKIN RESEARCH Y’ALL

#the beatles x reader #beatles fanfic #george harrison x reader #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney x reader #ringo starr x reader #beatles crackfic #au where the beatles are the crickets #five's a crowd

[ambular-d]

Fanfic Writer 20 Questions

tagged by @shakespearevillain

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

I have 21 works posted on AO3.

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

91,361

3. how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Depends on how you count them.  In Good Omens (TV), Good Omens (Book,) Hellblazer, Supernatural, Harry Potter, and The Last Unicorn, I’ve written at least one fic worth mentioning.  So six, if you don’t consider the GO book and TV show to be the same fandom.  I also have snippets of crossover silliness in M*A*S*H and Dogma, and GO songfics inspired by the Beatles’ Eleanor Rigby and Gordon Lightfoot’s The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

All of them are GO fics. In order and with links attached:

1. Be Ye Therefore Merciful (Book) (T)

2. And Shows Me Paradise (TV) (T)

3. Next Time I Fall (Book) (T)

4. Unto You (TV) (G)

5. After All (Book) (T)

Note that the current counts on AO3 are a bit misleading, as they don’t include kudos received before I reclaimed my book-based fics from the Good Omens Library Archivist and moved them to my own account.  If those were counted, the same five fics would still be at the top, but #4 and #5 would switch places.

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

I try to respond to virtually every comment I receive.  I love getting comments and discussing my stories.  Besides, it only seems polite.

6. what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Probably  All The Lonely People, a Good Omens TV ficlet inspired by the song Eleanor Rigby.

7. do you write crossovers?

Yep.  I have a series of three Good Omens (book) and Hellblazer (comic) crossovers, one GO (TV)/The Last Unicorn crossover, and a few crackfics with other fandoms.

8. have you ever received hate on a fic?

Just once really, and tbh it wasn’t entirely unexpected, given that the subject matter involved religion and was therefore potentially touchy. Though my critic misunderstood what I meant in a couple of the passages they found upsetting, and I actually made some minor edits and added a foreword to try to clarify, many years after the fic was first published.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

Have done, but not much and not for public consumption.

10. have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, though the very first fic I ever wrote (no longer available online) had a couple of passages that were startlingly similar to actual canon events that later appeared in the Harry Potter books.  Probably just a coincidence, though.

11. have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, I’ve been honored to have fics of mine translated into Russian, Korean and Italian.  Also, several of them have been made into podfics.

12. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not as such, though I’ve done a lot of online text-based roleplay, and I’ve participated in a sort of impromptu round robin event where a group of writers added ongoing chapters to a short fic that begged for a sequel.

13. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

The one I’ve written the most for is Aziraphale/Crowley.  The one nearest and dearest to my heart, whose rowboat I stubbornly captained for a long while, was Castiel (mostly 2014 version)/Anna Milton from Supernatural.

14. whats a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have a lengthy GO (TV) WIP set in Jerusalem shortly after the Crucifixion that I’m still hoping to finish one day, though whether I ever will or not, who knows.  (It’s also got bits of a crossover in it with a now very obscure novel called Dear and Glorious Physician, about the life of St. Luke.)

15. what are your writing strengths?

Hrm.  I’ve got a decent vocabulary and command of the English language.  I’m pretty good with dialogue, not too bad at capturing character voices, and I think fairly adept at explaining away plot inconsistencies and delving into stuff like how supernatural powers work and how they interact with each other.  Also fairly good at writing complicated, nuanced personalities and motivations.

16. what are your writing weaknesses?

Not that great at transitions in time, coming up with names, long many-chaptered fics, or writing genuinely malevolent characters.  I also kinda suck at world-building (hence why I write fanfic.  :p)  I can write smut, and write it pretty well structurally and linguistically, but most of the time I don’t really enjoy it that much and it tends to be fairly vanilla.

17. what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

Don’t mind inserting a bit on rare occasion, but it seems like something that’s really easy to overdo and wind up looking pretentious (and that’s if you get it right, and your character doesn’t pull a JFK and accidentally proclaim themselves a jelly donut.)

18. what was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Harry Potter.  I’m embarrassed to admit that my primary motivation for starting that first fic was going through a slew of stuff on FF.net, finding much of it lacking, and saying to myself, “I could write stories better than 90% of this stuff.”

19. what’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Probably After All, though it was written years ago and I’d write some parts of it differently today, as my thinking on the matter of God and the afterlife has evolved quite a bit since.  I’m proudest of Be Ye Therefore Merciful, which I didn’t expect to go over that well but which turned out to be something of a surprise hit.

20. who do you tag?

@rainydaydecaf - @ariaste -  @aethelflaedladyofmercia - @forineffablereasons - @cheeseanonioncrisps - @fuckyeahisawthat - @vulgarweed - @irisbleufic - @quantum-witch

#Fandom #Fanfiction #20 Questions #Good Omens #Supernatural #AO3

[spaceyantique]

five’s a crowd [the beatles x reader] part two

series summary: You’re two seconds away from strangling John, three from a total breakdown over midterms. Paul won’t stop using up all the hot water in the mornings and George is determined to beat him there one way or another, godammit. Ringo doesn’t deserve this clusterfuck. And you all live together in a shitty, shitty apartment.

modern beatles x reader au (with some developing george x reader)

notes: not sure if y’all are aware of @kalypsichor​ (if you follow this blog you should be lmao) but she created the first part of this masterpiece late one night, and this mess of writing followed. so this is our first collab! fitting that it’s a crackfic. it’s gonna go back and forth by chapter and it’ll live on both of our masterlists.

originally inspired by this post :)

warnings: literal pure crack, almost no plot. bad characterization of the bug boys, swearing

 part one | part three | part four

masterlist

Being packed into Paul’s tiny car with three obnoxious boys is already not the ideal way to start your morning. Said shitty stick-shift car stalling every eight seconds on top of that morning being during your midterms week is even worse. Being en route to the hospital with one of the three boys in tears and the other two at each other's throats is just the fucking cherry-on-fucking-top. 

“Just use the CLUTCH, for God’s sake, John!”

“ExcUSE me, I don’t see YOU helping!” John snarls at George, who glares right back from the passenger seat.

“It’s not MY fault you can’t fucking-”

“‘M doing fine!” John protests as the car whines, but George continues over him. 

“-not MY fucking fault you can’t drive stick!”

“Well-” John splutters. “You can’t either!”

With a loud, metallic creak, the car jerks to a stop, and Ringo whimpers, still clutching his swollen wrist to his chest. You rub his back and stare balefully at the boys in the front seat, still shouting at each other as John rams the gas pedal.

“Why are you even fucking driving? You can’t see!” George waves his hand aggressively in front of John’s face, and John, in all his crackhead energy, snaps at his fingers with his teeth. George withdraws his hand with a horrified look and pulls himself to the absolute furthest he can be from John while staying in his seat.

The rest of the ride to the hospital is mostly silent, punctuated by poor Ringo’s sniffles and John cursing wildly with each lurch and grumble of Paul’s pathetically old car.

---

You’re all quite a sight when you stumble into Urgent Care. Ringo, with his bed-hair and likely broken wrist and red-striped pyjamas. George, wearing a scowl and a white button-down that’s soaked to his skin because he didn’t have time to dry off before you all rushed out the door. John, with a bloody nose, not from George punching him (though it got close), but from his face colliding with the steering wheel when he shifted gears too quickly and the car stopped suddenly. And you, in sweatpants and a messy bun and clutching your textbook like a velociraptor. 

After nearly a quarter of an hour in the waiting room, a nurse calls Ringo to see the doctor. He smiles weakly at you as you hand him a tissue before disappearing into the exam rooms.

“It’s all Paul’s fault,” George says dryly after a few minutes of silence. Good lord, here we go. You look up from the open textbook on your lap at him. He’s still scowling at the floor. His dark eyes lend him an aura of mystery, and his cheekbones look spectacular under his curly, still-damp hair, and the soaked white button-down is more see-through now than white over his biceps and shoulders, and- 

You try to tear your eyes away to answer him, but you really do have no self-restraint, so your useless brain just supplies a supremely intelligent “huh?” 

Fucking genius.

“It is. If he hadn’t used up all my fucking water, I wouldn’t have come out of the bathroom. And I wouldn’t have been standing there for so long if John-”

“Watch it, poodle boy,” John growls through the paper towel he’s clutching to his nose. In twenty minutes of reading, you’re hardly three pages through your chapter (the correct unit this time, you checked). You sigh, resigning yourself to a solid C on the midterm. Anyway, C’s get degrees, right?

“It’s true,” George argues in a half-whisper. “You were being such an arse that I stayed there longer to listen to your shit. I KNOW you knew that Paul knew that-” 

“I didn’t know SHIT, Geo!” John exclaims, and a middle-aged woman from across the lobby gives him the dirtiest look you’ve seen since you binged Keeping Up With the Kardashians in a weak moment during last year’s finals. George fixes him with an equally withering glare, and you’re glued to his cheekbones again, fucking hell. 

John makes a pissy face and throws his hands up, and God, how long does it take to choke someone out? It can’t be too long, can it?

Ringo would probably be sad if you killed John, your brain tells you, and fuck you, brain, but it’s right.

“Well,” you say, making an effort to not murder John. “At least we know Paul’s very clean.”

A tiny smile breaks George’s face and in only a few seconds, the three of you are giggling uncontrollably in the waiting room of your local A&E. 

“Oh, fuck,” John says, because his nose has started bleeding again, but you can’t stop laughing.

Ringo’s very confused when he emerges only a minute later to see his friends sitting on the floor in the Urgent Care lobby, crying of laughter, but you all attempt to contain yourselves and sign his wrist cast. It’s a pretty, light blue. 

“It matches your eyes,” you tell him, and he beams at you. George’s smile drops a little at the one you return to Ringo, but you’re too busy making your signature as fancy as possible to see it. 

You all bundle into Paul’s shitty car once again, this time with John driving and Ringo in shotgun.

It isn’t until you’re nearly home that you check the time to see it’s nearly two in the afternoon. As the four of you pull into the alley beside your apartment building, you realize with mounting horror that Paul must be home from class by now, completely unaware of the car-full of boys on their way to beat his arse.

“He must be back by now,” George mutters, peering out the window at your second-floor apartment with all the controlled rage of a fucking comic book supervillain. “I’m gonna throttle that clean bastard.”

God help that poor boy, you think.

#beatles x reader #beatles fanfic #five’s a crowd #george harrison x reader #john lennon x reader #ringo starr x reader #paul mccartney x reader #oops still no paul #modern au #college au

[monkberries]

1) @mcglassonion Actually, this is an idea I’ve been thinking about doing recently. If I can get my shit together after I finish the one I’m working on now, that was gonna be my next one!

2) Love a good crackfic, and hell, SOMEONE needs to roast Paul for being on tiktok. Not Ringo’s president meme, though, that was perfect.

3) Holy shit dude. Holy shit. I LOVE this. This is such an incredible idea. George and Paul in the seventies already wrecks me, but George and Paul in 1970 came into my house and murdered me in my bed and I love it

4) If ever a band needed group therapy it’d be them

5) You know, I don’t think I’ve ever found one where John is the time traveller. That’s a great idea, though.

6) I mean, if you’re gonna do an OC in a Beatles fic, it’d better be one who can whip their asses into shape!

7) Once again you people are trying to kill me with your George and Paul ideas and you know what I’m into it. And I love the crushing on Ringo idea, that’s so sweet! We get little bits in a lot of fics about why they like him but it’s rarely the focus of a fic. More Ringo love, always.

8) OOOOOOOOOOOH you’re directly in the wheelhouse of What I Am Into with that one, friend. Write that and I’ll be your best friend forever.

#beatles fanfiction #anonymous

[lunawho47]

Buzzfeed Unsolved: The Mysterious Doctor and the Omen of the Blue Box (Part 1)

Fandoms: Buzzfeed Unsolved and Doctor Who

Genre: Total Crackfic, Humor

Rating: 16+ (for language)

Summary: A script for Buzzfeed Unsolved, in which our two favorite jackasses, the Ghoul Boys, discuss the various internet theories surrounding the identity of various mysterious figures known only as “the Doctor” and the blue box that tends to appear around them.  Well, Ryan wants to discuss the theories; Shane thinks it’s all urban legends and bullshit.

A/N: So, I’ve read a lot of these mock scripts going around for Unsolved discussing CW’s Supernatural as though it was real, and I thought they were hilarious.  So, my brain started wondering what theories the reddit and conspiracy boards would think up about mentions of the Doctor, the Doctor’s companions, UNIT, and Torchwood.  And to be honest, my brain came up with A LOT of theories that would make sense, and this format seemed a fun way to discuss all of them.  It was originally going to be a one shot, but as I started writing, Shane kept interrupting in my head about how stupid all of it sounds, and that kept making the script longer and longer.  So, it’s now going to be a few parts long cos the history of DW (even when seriously truncated) takes a long time to go through when you try to use the serials to make arguments about the Doctor’s potential identity(s).  

So, here’s part 1.  Please let me know if you like it and would like to see more.  And if Shane and Ryan sound anything like themselves because if they don’t then the whole thing is nowhere near as funny as it should be.

Ryan: Today on Buzzfeed Unsolved we're looking into the puzzling mystery of an entity known only as "The Doctor" and the corresponding omen of a blue box.  It's a mystery that, in its more comprehensive moments, is whimsically strange and, most of the time, is just plain batshit bizarre.

Shane: Okay, so I can hear the air quotes around the name, and you called it an entity.  Are we talking like, cryptid creature that is based in reality or am I going to be sitting through theories about zombie plagues and Ant-man Ax murderers again?  Just what am I in for here?

Ryan: No zombie plagues, and the Doctor has never murdered anyone with an ax.  At least, not in any of the records available. It's just...well, it's hard to explain here, so let's just get right into it.  Just bear in mind this is Gene Wilder Willy Wonka levels of weird when it's at its most sensical.  And it's rare that this story makes any sense at all.

Shane: Alright, I'll confess I'm...intrigued.  I'm ready to listen.

Ryan: Alright, here we go.  *opens folder*

Ryan (in his Unsolved VO):  The first documented evidence of a being calling itself "The Doctor" is in the files of now deceased British UNIT officer Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart.

Shane:  Wait.  UNIT?  What's that? Sounds like something out of a video game.

Ryan: (wheeze) It does a bit, yeah. But there is paperwork evidence that verifies this group -- lame as the acronym is -- actually existed.  They were set up in the mid-1960s by the United Nations to look into unexplained phenomena and for a long time they were a covert operation.  The British Prime Minister knew they existed, and they answered to Geneva, but they weren't known to the wider public until after they shut down three years ago.

Shane:  I'm sure that meeting went GREAT.  'Hey, everybody, thanks for coming down this Monday morning. Erm...thanks for protecting us from alien invasions for the last 50 years and for keeping such a great secret about it.  Here's your reward: you're all fired, and we're going to tell the entire world what your names were and let you deal with the press about it for the rest of your life.  Have a great rest of your Monday!'  (Wheeze) What a bunch of shitty bosses.

Ryan: I mean, based on what little there is to read about how UNIT operated, the Brigadier we'll be talking about really had to go to bat for the organization in front of the Prime Minister a lot over the years in order to keep the operation going.  After the Brigadier died, they were able to keep going for awhile, but as you'll see from some of these stories we'll be looking at today, the organization was considered obsolete long before it was disbanded.

Shane: Okay, so the Doctor first appears in conjunction with this UNIT?

Ryan: Right, so in the 1960s, there was some weird circumstance that led to the London Underground shutting down and the Brigadier, who was only a Colonel in the regular British army at the time, ran into what he described as a "(quote) man with a foppish haircut, ratty waistcoat, and tartan patterned clown pants; a young teenage girl; and a full Scotsman (end quote)."  

Shane: So which is the Doctor?  

Ryan: In this case, it's the first description.  The man with the clown pants on.  (wheeze)

Shane: (wheeze) Do you think he had clown shoes on, too?

Ryan: See, I know exactly what you're picturing right now.  You're thinking of a guy with a depressing Beatles haircut and complete clown regalia, including the extra large shoes.

Shane: I am.  100%  And you know, given some of the things we saw when traveling around London, including on (*with a terribly fake posh Oxbridge accent*) the Tube, a man dressed as a clown running around the platforms underground wouldn't even register as weird on a normal day.

Ryan: (Conceding) That is true.  And on a normal day, I'd agree with you.  But, bear in mind, this was the 1960s -- not the modern day -- and the Tube at the time was closed to the public because of this unknown threat the army was trying to deal with.  And what's even more notable -- the reason why the future Brigadier apparently wrote about it in his official report to the Prime Minister -- is that the man who called himself the Doctor, together with the two other civilians, saved the day.  The details are sparse, but the Brigadier makes it clear that the Doctor is the one who figured out what was really going on and managed to deal with whatever the situation was with minimal casualties.

And that's just the first time the Doctor and the future Brigadier crossed paths.  There are later documents that report the Brigadier -- now promoted from Colonel and officially a Brigadier -- came across the same man and Scotsman, but a different young girl in London just weeks after the military organization known as UNIT was founded.  And AGAIN, whatever the situation actually was, the Doctor and his friends were the ones that helped UNIT save the day.

Shane: Am I the only one who finds it suspicious that the details are always missing?  Like, shady organization set up by the government to look into extraterrestrial happenings?  Sure. (*puts hands in the air in surrender to argument*) I'll buy that.  Governments do shady shit all the time.  But, I mean, things like shutting down the London Underground and alien happenings in the city of London itself.  People are going to notice, right?  And how shitty are the Brigadier's write ups that no one remembers or knows any of the happenings in Britain's capital?  "Dear Prime Minister, stuff happened.  Doctor did some other stuff.  Stuff stopped.  The end.  TTYL."  Sounds like someone was crap at his job and when things just luckily worked out, everyone just swept it under the rug.

Ryan: You see, I would agree with you there.  BUT...there are pictures.  We can't show them to the audience because of copyright, but if you know where to look online, people love to discuss the Doctor and all the people who have gone missing while looking for the Doctor, so.  Investigate at your own peril. But, Shane, here you go.

*the audience can't see the photos hidden by Ryan's open folder, but we see Shane's expression.*

Shane: (*laughs*)  That Doctor looks like a moron.  I mean, I still think the Brigadier must have been crap at his job, but he was bang on his descriptor of the Doctor looking like a clown.  And I take it the guy in the kilt is the Scotsman?

Ryan: Yeah, I looked up what full Scotsman means when I read the description and apparently it means a guy who wears a kilt with no underwear on underneath it.  Before that, I just assumed that it meant this other guy was wandering around the Underground, playing bagpipes and singing songs from Highlander or something.

Shane: You thought this guy was wandering around singing Who Wants to Live Forever over a decade before the film came out.  (wheeze)

Ryan:  Well, when we get into the theories that idea won't seem entirely out of place, I don't think.

Shane: Well, I'm going to go ahead and call a preemptive bullshit on that theory.

Ryan: Noted.

Ryan: (back in Theory VO) The next record of the Doctor's appearance comes about in the 1970s when a man is admitted to a local hospital after collapsing outside of a blue box in the woods.

Shane: There was a blue box in the woods?  Like, human sized or was he scrunched up in it like Shroedinger's cat?

Ryan: We'll get back to the box in a minute, but it's larger than a human, yeah.  In fact, it was something called a Police Public Call Box, which were common to see on city or town street corners in Britain in the 1950s and 1960s. The idea was that if police or citizens saw a crime being committed, they could either phone the police from the box or shove the criminal in the police box and go fetch a policeman.  But what's weird about the box in this case is: 1) it's in the middle of the woods, and not even on like, a hiking path or anything.  But, the legit WOODS.  And 2) it's the 1970s and police call boxes are no longer really a thing at this point.  But, once the man calling himself the Doctor gets to the hospital it gets even stranger.

Shane:  I mean, everything about this story so far feels like the Brigadier spinning a yarn, but keep going.

Ryan: So, the Brigadier gets a phone call from the hospital that a man called the Doctor has been admitted to the hospital.

Shane: Wait, how did the hospital know to call the Brigadier about that?  Was there a national bulletin?  Is the Doctor a wanted man or something?

Ryan: I don't know, man.  Maybe the police just call UNIT whenever something with the label "fucking weird" comes across their desk.  I don't know.  This is just what the report says.

Ryan: (theory voice) Due to a situation UNIT was overseeing in the area at the time, the Doctor's appearance was notably auspicious for the Brigadier, so the UNIT officer went to see if his friend could help with the investigation.  However, when he got the hospital, he discovered that he the man calling himself 'The Doctor' was not anyone he recognized.

Shane: Wait...what?

Ryan: (laughing).  I told you the situation at the hospital is weird.  So, the Brigadier is told that this man who has helped him out before has been admitted to a hospital that is nearby a situation that UNIT is investigating -- a clear sign, in the Brigadier's mind, that this Doctor who is injured is the same one he's met twice before -- and then discovers that it's a completely different man.

Shane: Well, I mean...that's not *too* weird.  I mean, the man is in a hospital, and you usually see doctors in a hospital.  And I'm sure a lot of doctors are known more by their title than their surname.  There are millions of doctors on the planet, so I don't know if two different people wanting to be called Doctor is all that unusual.

Ryan: (with a haughty smile) That makes perfect sense, but listen to this.

Ryan: (Theory voice)  The Brigadier assumed at first that the patient calling himself the Doctor was a coincidence and started to leave the room.  However, he found himself called back when he heard the unknown man call the Brigadier by name. The conversation made it clear that, not only did the patient know the Brigadier's full name, but also knew the circumstances under which the Doctor and the Brigadier had met both times before. Information which, at the time, was highly classified and known only to those in the Prime Minister's office and those who had been in the UNIT planning room at the time of the situational crises.

Shane: Okay, I'm going to call it.  I'm going with spy.  I think the Doctor is a code name and this guy inherited  the call sign and the information from the Doctor's previous operations.  

Ryan: So, you think this is like, a 007 scenario?  

Shane: I mean, I'm sure you'll peddle some alien abduction theory or some other supernatural bullshit, but...yeah.  I'm going spy call sign.  Makes sense to me so far.

Ryan: Well, you might not be a *total* dipshit, but...we'll see.  There's still quite a bit more to cover. This isn't even the tip of the weird iceberg.

Shane: (sarcastically) Oh joy...

#buzzfeed unsolved #bfu #doctor who #fanfiction #(or at least fanfic adjacent) #the mysterious doctor and the omen of the blue box

[beatlevmania]

Beatles Masterlist

Created 7/22/19

A few disclaimers! First, everything I write is ‘reader x beatle’. So, no mclennon, starrison, etc! Also, everything is female reader! I write fluff, angst, NO SMUT. ok I think that’s it, enjoy, loves! And request anything you’d like to see!

Headcannons

Beatles comforting you after a nightmare

Beatles x reader at the movies

Beatles reacting to reader in the hospital

First kisses with the Beatles

Dating the teddy Beatles in general (this one is longgg lmao)

Ringo Starr

Showing you off in front of the boys

Bedsharing with Ringo

I Think I Want To Marry You (Ringo proposing)

Scenes from a Liverpool Restaraunt (meeting ringo’s parents)

American!Reader x Ringo Date (Ringo and reader imitating each others accents its basically a crackfic)

John Lennon

Run for your life (Johnny fights a guy for you)

Best friend (PART ONE)

Best friend (PART TWO)

Hold Me Tight (John’s has a hard day at the studio)

Honey pie (kitchen/baking fluff)

George Harrison

Naturally (first time george seeing you without makeup)

In love with the assistant

Baby it’s you (PART ONE)

Here comes the sun (George and your newborn)

He’s in love with me (studio fluff with geo)

Rain (rainy night with Geo)

No matter what (angst and fluff)

Paul McCartney

sick day (Paul takes care of you when you’re sick)

Golden slumbers (morning fluff with Paulie)

Spin the bottle (hate to love storyline)

Autumn (fall fluff to give you those fall vibes)

#masterlist #writing

[geneclarksboobs]

The Beach Boys go to the Museum

A crackfic. Read if you want to immediately lose all your brain cells.

---

    Once upon a time, Brian Wilson was daydreaming about girls going to the museum which was very educational. More educational than daydreaming about girls which is good for you which is why he was daydreaming about going to the museum instead of girls. 

    “Yoo hoo brothers!” he said. 

    “What is it, big brother?” shouted Dennis and Carl Wilson from another part of the Beach Boys ResidenceTM

    “I have decided to go to the museum which is a very educational activity for us to do which will be beneficial for us,” said Brian. “I will call our cousin, Michael Edward Love, and our friend, Alan Charles Jardine.”

    “Oh ok, big brother,” the two younger Wilsons said. “As soon as we get out of the shower and clothe ourselves (which will probably align with the arrival of our cousin, Michael Edward Love, and our friend, Alan Charles Jardine), we shall take off in the Beach Boy MobileTM to go to the museum as you wish.”

T I M E S K I P

    “Incredible,” said Carl Wilson. “We have finished showering and being clothed just as our cousin, Michael Edward Love, and our friend, Alan Charles Jardine, have arrived.”

    “Now we can go to the  Beach Boy MobileTM to go to the museum Brian Wilson, my big brother, wishes.”     “I hate this story,” said Michael Edward Love, a man with no taste.

“Do not attempt to break the fourth wall,” said Brian Douglas Wilson, extremely annoyed at Mike Love’s lack of taste.

“Harrumph >:( !” harrumped Michael Edward Love.

Suddenly, Bruce Arthur Johnston appeared out of Norway. “May I come too?”

“Permission accepted,” said Al Jardine

T I M E S K I P

    The beach boys arrived at the Museum of Interesting Plot which interested them very much. They headed into the museum, where they bumped into GASP! The Beatles - an English rock band formed in Liverpool in 1960 with a line-up comprising John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr, who are regarded as the most influential band of all time. 

    “THE BEACH BOYS!” the bug boys ejected.

    “THE BEATLES!” the sand children exclaimed.

    “What a coincidence that we have bumped into you guys in the exact same museum,” said John Lennon. “I bet you were trying to sneak behind us and steal our songwriting ideas >:O”

    “Absolutely not >:O” said Brian Wilson, putting his hands on his hip in a gesture of frustration. “I bet YOU were trying to sneak behind us and steal OUR songwriting ideas”

    “We were not >:O” said Sir James Paul McCartney.

    They started fighting and in the moment of anger, they broke!! The statue of David (not Crosby unfortunately for the statue of David Crosby has cursed the museum for over a century now)!!!!!!!

    “HEY” said The Manager of The Museum (which was an unfortunate name given to him by his parents sad emoji)

    “Oh no” said Brian Wilson.

“Oh no” said Carl Wilson.

“Oh no” said Dennis Wilson.

“Oh no” said Mike Love.

“Oh no” said Al Jardine.

“Oh no” said Bruce Johnston.

“Oh no” said George Harrison.

“Oh no” said Paul McCartney.

“Oh no” said Ringo Starr

“Yoko Ono?” said John Lennon. “My wife in the future, depending on the era.”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” THERE WAS A CAR CRASHING INTO THE MUSEUM WHICH BROKE THE STATUE OF DAVID TENNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

IT WAS THE POOR MONKEES!!! IN THE MONKEE MOBILE!!!

“Ouchies!” said Micky Dolenz.

“OMG” said The Manager of The Museum (who happened to also be a clone of  Ringo Starr) He was angry. Very angry. So angry, that he was angry. “You guys better pay for this.”

“But we can’t,” said the Beatles (for Brian Epstein did not give them their allowance that day)

“We can’t either,” said the Beach Boys (for they had already spent enough on getting a nintendo switch to play animal crossing: new horizons.

This is left the poor, poor Monkees. “Bruh we poor af.”

“Then you have to work to pay for it smh,” said The Manager of The Museum.

“OH NO!” said all of them at once.

“You must go around the museum to find three fragments of the broken statue that you have broken, which somehow have been transported into the museum which you must complete challenges to get!”

“Like Dora the Explorer?” asked George Harrison, the youngest member of the Beatles. 

    “Yea,” saidThe Manager of The Museum. “Ok bye im gonna play animal crossing: new horizons now :))))))”

    “Ok. We must split up into three groups.”

BEACH BOYS SECTION - THE HALL OF THINGS THAT HAVE TO DO WITH WATER

    “Wow, how convenient is that we have coincidentally walked into the hall of things that have to do with water,” said Denny Wilson. “It is as this was planned.”

    And then…………………….”oh my god a wave,” said M*ke Love.

    “QUICKLY INTO THE BEACH GEAR” shouted Brian Wilson as they proceeded to use the sims animation to change into their beach gear. “NOW WE MUST.,,,,,,,,,,,,.,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,.,..,.,.,”

“We thro Dennise into da water bc he is da only 1 who can surf XD” said Mke Luv as he tossed Deniise into da water liKE A BOSS AND HI-FIVES ALL ROUND WAPOOSH WAPOOSH TAHK YOU GUYS FOR WATCHING AND I’LL SEE U IN THE NEXT VIDEO!!! *outro plays*

“Ahem,” said Ctrl. “We did not bring a surfboard,,,,,,,,so how is he supposed to surf??? Thonk emoji. Lmfao roasted XD”

“We use (drumroll pls) AL SARDINE as Da Surfboard Lmao!!!” said Miiiiiike lov e as they all jumped on Al Jardine.

“I did not feel a thing, lol” said ALAN JARDINE because he was a super strong boy (stock image of a blond guy flexing his muscles).

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

“Bruh we reusing animation bro,” said Denal Wilson.

“Oh look an island,” said Brain. Dey all hopped off and landed on the island. On the island was Kurt Cobain.

“Wow Mr Kurt Cobain,” said Broose Honda. “I did not know you lived on dis island.”

“I don’t rofl,” said Coq Au Vin as he handed them a statue fragment.

“Oh wow thx Coco Van,” as they flew away.

MONKEE SECTION - THE HALL OF….I DONT KNOW

    “Lmao is that Stephen Arthur Stills, an American singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist best known for his work with Buffalo Springfield and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young,” joked Micky Dolenz, pointing to a mirror in front of Peter Tork.

    “Lol yeah,” said Stephen.

    Micky screamed.

    “Here you go broski,” said Stephen Stills, handing them a fragment.

    “But what did we do?” asked Mike Nesmith.

    “Allowing the author to make the awful, often repeated annoying joke about me and Peter Halsten Thorkelson looking like identical twins.”

    “Ok thanks brewski,” said the Monkees as they headed off. “Come on Peter, don’t just stand there.”

    “But I’m Stephen.”

    “Wait,” said Davy. “But Peter was standing there just now.”

    “No, I was standing there.”

    The Monkees looked at each other and had a collective sigh. It was not gonna be as easy as they thought.

    And to make this complication more complicated, the author decided to make David Crosby, Graham Nash and Neil Young walk into the scene.

    “Bro Stephen wtf,” said Neil. “I knew you were small but I didn’t think you could crawl into the vents like that.”

    “But I’m Peter??????????”

    “Oh no not again,” said Graham Nash, already getting another headache.

    “Wait, wait wait, just a moment,” said Davy Jones. “Go back a bit. What do you mean by crawling through the vents.”

    “Please do not question the plot,” threatened David Crosby. 

    “YUH DAVY” said Micky. “Come on now, Peter,” - he grabbed Peter’s hand -” we gotta advance the plot.”

    “But I’m Stephen.”     Micky looked at him with such an expression that expressed a deep amount of hatred for the author. “It doesn’t matter. You guys are the same person anyway.”

The other lads shrugged and took poor Peter Halsten Dorkelson who was too confuzzled and befuddled and bamboozled to be crying.

BEATLES SECTION - THE HALL OF PAPERWORK

    “This is so boring,, (-_-)” said Jawn Jennon. “I think George Harrison fell asleep.”     “L M A O i did rofl lol,” said Heorge Garrison.

    “I am surprised because there is so much paperwork lying about that all look so boring!!” said Paul McEyelash.

    “Someone should clean this up smh,” said Ringone Starone.

    “YAAWWWWWWWWWWWNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!” they all sed at 1nce. That yawn pushed a stack of paper off a table, which caused a chain reaction, leading to a bucket falling down, a train being activated, a cow mooing and the members of Queen being awoken from their frozen-in-som-kind-a-tube state.

    “BRO WTF WHOMST WOKE US UP (((p(>o<)q)))” said Roger Taylor, stretching. “I was still having my beauty sleep.”

    “(O.O) omg (O.O)(O.O) oh mah gawd (O.O)(O.O)(O.O)” said Freddie Mercury. “Are those (O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O) the legendary (O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O) bug boys????????”

    “Ja” said gH.

    “ヽ(★ω★)ノ” said Brian May

    “(¬_¬") smh you woke up my cheese toast,” said John Deacon.

    “I guess, we should thank u for waking us up,” said Freddeh.

    “We wuz nevah gonna wake up,” said Briaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan Mei.

    “Take dis,” Rogah Taylah gave them a statue fragment that had landed in his hair.

    “Wow thanks that was EZ lmao,” said the bug boys as they went away.

T I M E S K I P

    “（●＾o＾●）” said The Manager of the Museum as he stuck the broken statue fragments of the broken statue of the Museum of Interesting Plot Idea (well I think that what it was called Lmao I didn’t check don’t correct me doe lel)

    “It was’t very challenging at all doe…” said Sand Children. “And for a story with out name in the title, we did not seem to get much attention at all.”

    “Shut up you’ll get your moment later,” said the others pointing down to the rest of the story. “See look at that.”     “None of this is very good,” said Mike Hate, a man with no taste.

    They all went into their respective vehicles and drove away.

    “WAIT!!!!!!” said Dave Jone of the Monkees, pausing the time. “We did not resolve the plot point of us actually kidnapping Steven Stills?????”

    “Help me,” said Stepe.

    “STFU IT’S OUR STORY (◣_◢)” said the beach of the boys, so infuriated with them that smoke came out of their ears like a boiling kettle and their eyes started glowing red which indicated anger.

    “Oh ok sorry lel, he’s British Lol,” said Mike Nesmith.

    “STFU Myke Gessmith.”

    “;~;” said Mike Nukesmith.

    “Y do u guys always have to take the spotlight?!” asked the Beaky Bubs.

    “Bc we’re the author’s favourites, unfortunately,” said Micky, shivering at the memories of what had happened to them before in previous crack fics.

    “Sux for u lmao.”

    Uh how to end dis. Boom. Story done lel.

    THE END FADE TO BLACK

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.Al Barmine

#the beach boys #queen #the monkees #the beatles #kurt cobain #for some reason idk bro i like him ok #csny #why did i write this #my fics #i wrote 1853 of this stupidity

[mclennon-ao3-feed]

The Swinging 60’s

by Disaster_Otakaboo2

The JBHK gang gets teleported back in time to the 1960’s when Amane was still alive and the Beatles were first getting big in Japan.

What’s happens when two legends meet?

Words: 621, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 地縛少年花子くん | Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun | Toilet-bound Hanako-kun (Manga), The Beatles (Band), The Beatles

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Paul McCartney, Martha (Paul McCartney's Dog), John Lennon, George Harrison, George Martin, Brian Epstein, Ringo Starr, Hanako | Yugi Amane, Yugi Tsukasa, Yashiro Nene, Minamoto Kou, Minamoto Teru, Mitsuba Sousuke, Neil Armstrong

Relationships: Hanako | Yugi Amane/Yashiro Nene, Minamoto Teru/Yugi Tsukasa, George Harrison & John Lennon & Paul McCartney & Ringo Starr, Minamoto Kou/Mitsuba Sousuke, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

Additional Tags: Time Travel AU, Toilet Trio meets the Beatles, setting-1964/68, crackfic, what the hell am I writing, Help, im going crazy, but it’s all right, this monstrosity of a fic is coming at yall

#mclennon #mclennon fic #the beatles #johnxpaul #john lennon #paul mccartney #ao3 feed #beatles fic

[gumnut-logic]

Prank War IV - You can’t stop the music!

Title: Prank War

Warm Rain Series

Author: Gumnut

6 - 8 Nov 2018

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: it was war.

Word count: 3215 (Part IV) - Total 5098

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, crackfic

Timeline: After ‘Home’ and before ‘The Proposal’.

Author’s note: This is total crack. I blame a combination of the lurgy that is messing with my muse and @vegetacide who inadvertently asked for it.

From this conversation. 

Nutty: Are you requesting a whump? 😁

Veggie: No.. Not me.. I want one with fluffy unicorns and rainbow farts.. Lol

Nutty: Really??

And here is the last of the crazy :D I hope you enjoy it :D I’m feeling much better now :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Prank War I - Rainbows Prank War II - Jello Prank War III - The Unicorn

Prank War IV - You can’t stop the music!

It started with his alarm.

Usually Gordon was woken in the morning to the slowly increasing sounds of the ocean, a little whale song and a few waves crashing on the shore. It was a nice comforting way to slowly ease out of sleep. It gave him energy. It got him slowly geared up and into his morning routine.

AC/DC suddenly screaming out ‘Big Gun’ at the full volume his alarm was capable of didn’t quite have the same effect.

Gordon shot up and fell out of bed.

The floor was hard first thing in the morning.

As the song played out, he rolled over on the floor groaning. Okay, okay, I’m up. He aimed to turn it off. Somehow the alarm ended up in pieces on the floor.

Great.

He sat there for a moment and let his heart rate slow and his circulation catch up. There were only two possible reasons his alarm had done that...Virgil’s revenge...or, well, yeah, Virgil.

Gordon took a deep breath and stood up. He had no doubt there would be more. An altered alarm clock just did not add up to alginate in the pool.

He had to admit it. That had been some damn good revenge. It had taken days. Days. To get the stuff out of the pool. And for a good part of it, Virgil had sat on the balcony with a smirk on his face just watching Gordon dig it all out.

Alan had helped. Gordon loved his little brother.

Virgil, however.

He twisted his lips. Virgil was a challenge. Of course, the man was a loveable bear, and he couldn’t resist poking the bear.

It had just escalated recently.

Gordon reached for his swimwear and frowned.

What was that sound?

He made the movement again.

The sound happened again.

He grabbed his swimwear and began to change.

The sound became instrumental. Orchestral. Tuba? Trombone?

The theme from Jaws.

Each time Gordon moved, a strain from the theme echoed throughout his quarters. The faster he moved, the faster the music. The slower he moved, the more paced and threatening the music.

He looked about the room, but couldn’t see anything obvious that could be following his movements.

Experimentally, he walked into the bathroom.

“I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts...”

He yelped. It was at full volume and threw him back into his bedroom.

Jaws resumed.

Okay, Virgil, you smart ass, I’ll give you this, it’s creative.

Jaws followed him into his living room and out into the corridor with his towel.

When he hit the kitchen, the soundtrack switched to the Beatles and “Love Me Do.” Which wasn’t too bad, he didn’t mind the occasional Beatles track.

Moving out onto the patio, however, proved to be bit more of a challenge.

Italian Opera was never really considered motivational for swimming or any other kind of exercise. Between the smell of the slowly decaying alginate to the west of the pool and the accompanying music, Gordon’s exercise routine was cut short.

Returning to his room brought back Jaws, however his bathroom chose to sing ‘Agadoo’ during his shower.

On loop.

By the time he was fully dressed, he had just about reached his limit.

He activated his comms. “Virgil?”

“The Thunderbird you are trying to contact is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the...” And his comms let off an awful screech.

Okay, so he jumped. He’d admit it. He was used to relying on the infallibility of IR equipment. But then if comms was involved with this, then that meant...

John.

He tapped his comms again.

“John?”

“You rang?”

Blink. “What are you doing?”

“Eating breakfast.” As if to prove it, there were some sloppy chewing sounds on the line.

“Are you siding with Virgil?”

“What do you mean?”

“In the prank war.”

“Is there a prank war? Sounds highly unprofessional.”

Gordon grit his teeth. “Which is why I’m finding it hard to believe that you are involved.”

“And what could you possibly think I have done?”

“There is music wherever I go.”

“Nope. That was totally Virg.” There were more chewing sounds. And a belch.

“Ugh, gross.”

“Better out than in.” Another burp. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“What? Are you on something?”

“Thunderbird Five, but I thought you knew that.” And then the line cut off

“John? John!”

“The Thunderbird you are trying to contact is currently unavailable. Too bad, so sad, go eat a lemon.”

Okay, that left him trying to stare at his collar.

John was definitely in Virgil’s pocket.

Jaws once again followed him down the corridor, but upon entering the kitchen it switched to piano music.

Virgil’s piano music.

Kayo was sitting at the breakfast bar with a bowl of fruit salad. “Good morning, Gordon.”

“Hey, Tin.”

He chose to ignore the music, perhaps if he paid it no attention it would simply go away.

“This is truly a lovely piece of music. Virgil is quite talented.”

Gordon grit his teeth. “Yes. Yes, he is.” He dug the butter out of the refrigerator before diving into the bread bin.

“This piece is special.” An involuntary glance at his sister found her gazing somewhat dreamily at the ceiling, her fork waving a chunk of pineapple on its tines.” I was there for both the inspiration and the writing of this piece. It is written so well, I can hear the waves on the beach, feel the sand between my toes, his hands on my skin...”

Gordon dropped his butter knife and it clattered across the floor.

“Virgil is very good with his hands.” Tin’s smile was lascivious. “Of course, he does quite well with the rest of his body as well.”

Gordon stared at her.

“He has a very nice tongue.”

Gordon fled.

But it got worse.

The moment he hit the comms room, the music switched to the godawful ‘It’s a small world after all’.

If there was a song out there that promoted ripping ears out that was it.

“Ooh, I like this one.” And to Gordon’s horror, Alan, who had been sitting on the couch playing his computer game, started singing along.

“What? How? Whose side are you on?!”

“Huh? It’s a cool song.”

“It’s a horrible song. How can you possibly-?” This had to stop. “Where is Scott?”

“In Bermuda.”

Gordon blinked. “What?”

“He’s taken a weekend and gone to Bermuda. Apparently, he has wanted to go for a while.”

“How could he do that?”

Alan frowned. “He deserves a break, Gordon.” He turned back to his game. “Big Bro hardly ever gets to relax around here.”

“But what about International Rescue?”

“Eh, we’ll survive. Virgil and the rest of us are here.”

Virgil.

“Yes, and where exactly is Virgil?”

“Dunno. Probably still in bed. You know him, midnight to midday if he could.” And his brother started humming along to the damn song again.

Aaargh.

Okay, okay, take a deep breath. Get out of the house. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Cool.” Alan went back to his game, still humming that damn song.

-o-o-o-

Gordon set off along the cliff tops to the eastern side of the island, his shoulders still tense, muttering under his breath. For the first few steps he revelled in the sudden quiet, but just as he turned the corner, finally out of sight of the villa, a train whistle echoed amongst the rocks.

And a kids choir started singing.

We'll sing a song for Gordon

He's big, he's fast, he's proud

His paint is blue, so strong and true

And his whistle's really loud

The fastest train on Sodor

You can't forget his name,

So when we've sung for Gordon, well

Let's sing it once again.

 His jaw dropped. Oh god, no, not Thomas the frickin’ Tank Engine!

And the song looped.

Awwwgh. He had fists full of hair.

Young Alan had absolutely adored that damn program as a toddler, and when he discovered one of the engines had the same name as his big brother...

Oh, the ear worms.

Gordon rubbed his face in his hands.

But he kept walking. Maybe he could out pace it.

Halfway around the island, it faded out and Gordon sighed.

Then Virgil’s voice echoed amongst the rocks.

We’ll sing a song for Gordon

And torture his little ass

He comes in yellow, not so mellow

But in this war he’s last.

He is the biggest fish on Tracy

And you can’t forget his name

Because he simply will not let you

And he thinks it’s all a game.

But when you sing a song for Gordon

You have to know it’s true

He’s forgotten who he’s playing with

And big brother is two for two.

If he knows what is good for him

He will throw in the towel

And wave the flag of truce tonight

Before it gets really loud.

 Gordon had just a moment to consider that, yes, his brother could sing really well, before that too went on loop, bellowing out from a series of loudspeakers amongst the rocks.

It followed him the rest of the circumference of Tracy Island.

It wasn’t even ten am when he got back to the villa (the pool had switched to the Beatles ‘I wanna hold your hand’ as he walked through it) and already he felt he was going to lose it.

Jaws chased him up the staircases, but when he entered his rooms, Dory started encouraging him to ‘just keep swimming’.

Over and over again.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, nooooooooo......

In desperation, he jabbed his comms. “Scott?”

“The Thunderbird you are trying to contact is currently unavailable. You’ve driven him insane and he has fled to the Bermuda Triangle.” Twilight Zone music danced with Dory.

“John?”

“Yo?”

“What can I offer you to make this stop?”

“Make what stop?”

“The music!”

“Oh, you can’t stop the music...” And John was singing another ear worm and his singing skill definitely wasn’t up there with Virgil’s. “Nobody can stop the music!”

“Oh, for the love of god!”

“Is something wrong, Gordon?”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“I am. He’s had it. This is beyond the rule book.”

“Nope. Sorry. Not going to happen.”

“Watch me.”

“Okay then. You might want to check out your balcony.”

“My balcony?”

“Oh, yeah, baby.”

Gordon was attempting to stare at his collar again.

“Go on, I haven’t got all day. Important rescue calls to be sorted.”

Against his better judgement, Gordon stepped through the double doors and out onto his balcony.

“The hills are alive with the sound of music!”

Julie Andrews. Echoing across the Tracy Island volcano.

“Take a look downstairs.” John was smug, there was no other word for it.

On the side lawn, Grandma was twirling.

Twirling to Julie Andrews.

Gordon fled to Dory.

“Why, John?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you side with Virgil? You’re the middle kid, the casting vote. What did I ever do to you?”

“I have a list, Gordon.”

“Really?”

“A long list.”

“Okay, but c’mon, I’m the prankster in this family. It is to be expected. Before the pool, I don’t think he ever even thought of pranking anyone.”

“Point One to the Virg.”

“Are you sure you’re not smoking something up there?”

“Thunderbird Five is a non-smoking habitat. Unless it is on fire.”

Blink. “Okay. You sure it is not on fire?”

“You may be the prankster Gordon, but you forgot one very important fact.”

“What?”

“Virgil is an engineer. A fully qualified and creative engineer. And you pissed him off.”

Another blink. “Okay, you may have a point.”

“Oh, and although traditionally Virgil is the kind of guy who wouldn’t hurt a fly, he has a girlfriend who would be quite capable of stringing you up by your eyelids.”

Now that was an image that hurt.

“So, you see, little brother, logic dictates that if I want to keep my eyelids intact and my Thunderbird in one piece, I’m sticking with the pissed off engineer.” A pause. “You are, of course, welcome to join us on the not so dark side. All it takes is the waving of that little white towel or flag. Do you have a white pair of underwear? I’m sure Virgil will accept those if they are clean.”

“Where is he?” It was low, it was dark.

“Oh, where you won’t think to look.”

“John, you suck.”

“Such rumours, young padawan.”

Yet another blink and he shivered, cutting off the connection.

So, Virgil was a smart ass engineer, huh?

There is more than one engineer on this island, and the other one has a smarter ass!

Gordon grimaced at that thought. It didn’t quite come out the way he had intended.

The music followed him down to Brains’ labs, alternating between two of the most annoying advertising jingles ever composed.

The door to the labs was shut. It was locked. It had a great big sign on it.

‘For the duration of the current argument, these labs are a Tracy-free zone. Keep Out.’

Gordon muttered under his breath and reached for the button to activate the door anyway.

A whirring of wheels and suddenly MAX was in his face.

Glaring at him.

Gordon flung his hands up in defence. “Okay, okay. I get the message.” Another threatening whir. “I’m going. I’m going.”

As he turned around, Elvis started crooning Jailhouse Rock.

Okay, so that one wasn’t so bad.

He stomped off to plan B.

The hangers and Thunderbird Four.

He never knew that the cavernous Thunderbird Two hanger was so acoustic. But then it may have sounded better if it wasn’t screaming ABBA’s Dancing Queen off all the technology housed inside it.

He hated ABBA with a passion. It may have had something to do with John liking it, a lot, all through yet another revival during his teenage years. God forbid if it switched to Mamma Mia.

Which, of course, it did.

Virgil obviously knew him very well.

He clambered into Module Four, sighing in relief as it closed and dampened the echoed out in the hangar. He then threw himself into TB4, sealing her hatch behind him. Ah, blessed silence.

He closed his eyes and simply breathed out.

“Badger, badger, badger, badger, badger, badger, badger, badger, badger, badger, badger, badger, badger...”

It was so quiet, he didn’t hear it at first, but it slowly increased in volume until it was just distinct enough that he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Mushroom, mushroom!”

“Badger, badger, badger...”

What’s with the badgers?

“IT’S A SNAKE! IT’S A SNAAAAKE!”

Gordon yelped and almost fell out of his chair. Oh god.

And it was badgering again.

It only took three more screamed snakes to have him stumbling out of his little sub.

Okay, Virgil, I admit it. You’re good.

-o-o-o-

He went boating and snorkeling that afternoon.

And discovered that not only had Virgil rigged the boat, but he had also added music to the fishing equipment and his snorkel and mask. How the hell he had managed that, Gordon had spent an hour going over said mask and snorkel failing to work out how.

There may have been tears of frustration at one point.

He spent the entirety of his boat trip home ‘Row, row, rowing his boat gently down the stream’, but it wasn’t the crocodile that made him want to scream.

By six o’clock he was ready to give in. He had a headache, his ear worms were breeding in his brain and, for the love of god, could he please have some peace and quiet?

John was useless.

Scott had migrated to another country.

Alan...Alan had disappeared. He would be slightly worried, but this was Virgil, he had a moral code, and Alan was easily distracted. Gordon himself had used candy in the past.

Kayo...well, her allegiance was obvious. And her commentary on Virgil’s music...he so wasn’t going there again.

Brains was Switzerland. If Switzerland had robotic defences and didn’t let anyone in.

Grandma was still excited about the volcano spouting Julie Andrews. Who knew she would be such a fan. The movie had been made over fifty years before she had been born.

That left Virgil the evil demonic overload of all this musical hell.

And Shirley.

Gordon had managed to find one small niche of the island that was music free. The small grassed area where they had constructed a little pen for Shirley the pony. Obviously Virgil was above torturing wannabe unicorns. He sat with Shirley for two hours while the miniature horse chewed on his shirt.

Despite this, the music continued in his head. Particularly that Thomas the Tank Engine torture device, except now the original lyrics kept warping into his brother’s voice.

Surrender was apparently the only option.

So, it was with red faced annoyance, temper and humiliation that he climbed the stairs to the residential areas and knocked on Virgil’s door.

As John had said. It was the last place he had looked.

Perhaps because that was where he knew he would find him.

“Come in.”

The room was dark when he entered, lit only by the lights in the corridor and some faint light from the long set sun. The music of choice in the corridor had returned to its preferred Jaws theme.

“Close the door behind you.”

He did as he was told. And discovered the second music free spot on the island. Oh god, blessed silence.

“Hello, Gordon.”

His brother appeared out of the shadows by the window, his outline only lit by that pink sunset remnant. It made him look large and mysterious. Far from the gentle artistic demonic overlord he knew him to be.

“Please make it stop.”

“It already has.”

“What?”

You only had to come to see me to get it to stop. I’m surprised you lasted this long.” He sighed. “In fact, it worries me. Does this prank war mean that much to you?”

Gordon blinked. “What?”

“I thought we were closer as brothers than a petty prank fest. That you would rather suffer than simply come and ask me to stop...Gords, really?”

“It’s war.”

“You started it.”

“Yeah, that was hilarious.” A grin.

He didn’t need to see his brother’s eyes to know he had rolled them. “For some.” A sigh. “Well, the fun is now over.”

“Why? I owe you big time, bro.”

He saw his brother move and suddenly the room was filled with ‘It’s a small world after all.” Gordon flinched. “Okay, okay, I get the message.” The music stopped.

“Anytime, Gordon, anytime, and it can all start again. I have ABBA’s complete collection at my disposal.”

Disposal was the right word. He was going to kill John.

“And it’s not John’s.”

Wha-?

“It’s Kay’s.”

Shit.

“Virgil, love, come back to bed.”

Speak of the devil, and Tin walked into the room, turning on the light.

Gordon blinked. Virgil was shirtless. Kayo was in a short, very short, negligee, a silky green one.

“Gordon, you’re staring.” Tin smiled that same smile she had weaponised at breakfast, leant over and licked Virgil’s ear.

Gordon shuddered.

“I-I’ll be going.”

Tin smiled again. “You do that.”

“Virg?”

“Yes, Gordon.” He was kissing Tin’s nose.

“You win.”

“I know.”

Gordon fled.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #scott tracy #kayo kyrano #virgil/kayo #warm rain