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dykefaggotry · 5 days

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[image id: an ask from @harbingerofskulls that reads: "im gonna b real i only knew the jerking off i would love to hear you elaborate more if you want to go on the whole situation" /end id]

answering here so i can save as a draft without risking the ask disappearing bc tumblr's been doing that lately but

oh god </3 for everyone else- it's talking about this post. sooo i'm gonna go through each one bc i've been feeling insane for several weeks. i'll do my best to cite my sources lmao

i don't know (johnny johnny)

this is referring to this unreleased VERY early beatles track from 1960. the audio quality is absolute shit & as such unfortunately people love to put words to it that don't make much sense in either direction (i.e a lot of mclennon fans want to hear "you're in love with me" and a lot of people that hate mclennon will just make up the weirdest lyrics that make 0 sense so it's Not Gay). some of the lyrics that ARE clear make it obvious this song is about the two of them running away together- at one point i'm fairly certain paul says "how am i gonna tell my father that we're leaving town?" probably referring to them leaving to hamburg. which would be fine but some of the other lyrics areeeee..... very..... Hm. like multiple times paul refers to john as "my boy" and there's bits of them talking about not knowing what to tell their friends & wanting to just run off together alone. if i were the other members of the band having to record this i would have killed them with hammers <3 also the entire end is just paul going "oh johnny" like 1 million times. okay. sure. also since the lyrics ARE so garbled i mean i guess people could be right about it saying "how am i gonna tell my father you're in love with me" but i just don't hear it. still, a very gay song about running off together and getting away from everything and everyone, complete with moaning the other's name </3

2. paris

this one is a huge part of McLennon Fandom Lore lmao but for good reason. not citing sources on all this bc it's one of those that's just Fact & can be found in like any beatles biography or thebeatlesbible.com (my savior) but. for john's 21st birthday, he got 100 pounds from a rich relative. instead of taking his girlfriend or any of his other friends, he decided to use the money to take paul to spain. but they stopped in paris on the way and just decided to stay there. which i mean like. taking your best friend over your girlfriend to the city of love is a little weird but it's not THAT weird. it's everything else that makes people want to chew glass about it. including some of the other things on this list. like this audio of john just goofing around singing about paris and paul, with such hits as "my cheri, my pau pau my pau paul." which is :| okay best friend. and paul has this picture hung up in his house that he took of john sleeping in paris. okay. sure. why not. (although ig there's some doubt about if the photo is from paris? either way it's a picture paul took and has framed in his house which is incriminating enough my man). also NOT in the original post but may pang, a woman john had a brief affair with in the 70s, wrote a book called loving john. in it, there's this quote:

After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”

“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.”

okay! also in an interview once he said:

The thing was all the kissing and the holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic, just to be there and see them, even though I was twenty-one and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing; and they weren’t mauling at each other, they were just kissing.

(interview with david scheff for playboy in september 1980)

3. if i fell

this one i already made an insane post on that started my spiral into posting about the beatles publicly </3 but, essentially, the song "if i fell" by john is..... well it's most likely about paul. he said it wasn't about his wife but that it was auto-biographical and he never really had any public affairs that weren't flings, certainly not a lover. but most damning is he wrote the complete lyrics for the first time on a valentine's day card addressed "to paul with love" with some hearts and arrows pointing to where the lyrics were written. absolutely insane. made me insane.

4. oh! darling

rawest paul song of all time if i do say so myself lmao. but it's just.... Highly Suspicious, that's what it is. a Lot of beatles fans/historians will admit this song is most likely about john but they won't admit that it's fucking romantic if it is. like.

like that is so blatantly romantic idk what to say other than that. also, in the official recording on abbey road, there's Several points where paul says "darling" that sound more like he's saying "johnny" which is what he called him. people brush it off by saying it's his accent, but there's a very clear difference between when he's saying "darling" and when he's saying "johnny". i mean the Lore behind this is that it was written right when things were splitting up between them (& the rest of the band) so it makes sense and it's why most people are willing to accept it's about john. it's just insane to me that they'll accept it's about john without considering the implications of that.

5. the real life demo

this one made me want to light myself on fire i won't lie to you. but here it is! john had a song called "real love" and this is a very early demo of it. but instead of the lyrics that came to actually be in the song (which are thought to be about yoko but let's not get into the fact that it was on a tape labeled "for paul" but whatever), it includes john fucking crying as he sings saying:

"was i just dreaming or was it only yesterday? i used to hold you in my arms. and now a baby and another on the way... la la la la farm..."

which can quite literally be about no one else but paul, as this demo was recorded when he'd just had two children with his wife linda and linda was pregnant with their third child. they'd moved to a farm in scotland. hearing this audio clip did genuinely make me want to lie down in the dirt for a week. also "i used to hold you in my arms" just... yeah. god. when people think it was unrequited idk what to say, really.

6. If Paul Were A Woman-

shoving these two together but. in april of 85, paul said in an interview about john and yoko's relationship:

"I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, 'Who’s this?' You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…"

okay bestie <3 and what would make your relationship different if you were a woman? interesting! and yoko had something similar to say. in this audio, she says:

"I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat – because there’s something definitely very strong between John and Paul."

just reminds me of being a kid and telling my best friends "if i were a boy i'd date you" lol. incredible. does anyone here know about bisexuality.

7. stuart!

not much to say here except that john had a best friend, stu sutcliffe, who died young & before that had been the bassist in the band. paul fucking hated him sooo much oh he SEETHED. a lot has been written on that relationship but it was.... very interesting to say the least. it could have just been about the band, or just jealousy over john's friendship, but take that with a lot of john biographers suspecting john had feelings/even a sexual relationship with stuart and it paints a very Interesting picture to say the least

8. john's bisexuality

here's a compilation of quotes about it, but john was more than likely bisexual. which has nothing to do w paul, really, but more to do against people that like to claim they were both Heterosexual Men. although an interesting quote in this compilation is him saying he's "had paul" lmfao

9. paul's post-beatles work

there's just.... there is so so so much here i don't even know where to begin. @ringompreg has a good compilation of paul songs here. a lot of them do take a bit of Lore but like..... it comes down to the fact that both him and john have/had admitted many times to using their lyrics during The Breakup Years to talk to/reference each other and sooooo many of these lyrics are insanely blatant. the two i mentioned were tug of war and let me roll it, both of which are acknowledged to be about john by most people WITH NO ONE BOTHERING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT which..... tug of war has this:

we could stand on top of the mountain with our flag unfurled? dancing to a beat played on a different drum? this is what gaylors think gaylor conspiracy is but paul mccartney is really out here saying this shit.

and let me roll it is so fucking blatantly romantic but every reviewer is like haha! what a cool song that's "making fun" of john and clearly in his style! like are straight people stupid genuinely. anyway:

bonus to that but about JOHN'S solo work :)))))) he wrote a song called "watching the wheels" and when you consider he very much responded to MANY of paul's solo stuff it's :)

which as a response to let me roll it would just be... so devestating but it may be a stretch idk if i'm onto anything there it's just worth Mentioning

and there's a lot of others, a lot of them in that post up there. like far too many where paul mentions falling in love with a friend like Alright.

10. paul's first lsd trip with john/"i know" "i know"

this one is less blatantly romantic but it is just insane. here's an article. and a quote from george martin about it. the first time paul tripped on acid w john was bc john accidentally took some and he took him home & then took acid w him bc he didn't want john to be alone on the trip :( but, notably:

"And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot," the singer recalled, "And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away."

he also apparently saw john as the, and i quote, "emperor of eternity" during this trip??????? okay

SOMEWHERE i can't find it rn and i'm getting lazy but somewhere they (i think paul?) talk about the fact that they used to just stare into each other's eyes and then say "i know" "i know" which. considering john's song "i know (i know)" makes me crazy

11. in my life/i will

these are really just some devastating songs with lyrics that make you really raise your eyebrows. for in my life, written by john, it's just an incredibly romantic & sweet song that is again, not about his wife. given that the lennon estate is still out here posting pictures of paul to those lyrics i have to say it's a liiiiittle suspicious. and i will is...... it's one that paul insists is not about his girlfriend at the time, jane asher. and when you look at the lyrics vs how him and john met.... like. the song goes:

and the story of how they met was that paul saw john repeatedly before they ever met, when he didn't know who john was other than that he thought he looked cool & admired his sideburns (lmfao). and when they did finally meet, it was when john was singing at a garden fete (party) and paul was in the crowd just Mesmerized. so. well. you can see.... you can see how fitting that is. makes me crazy makes me want to chew glass actually

12. "we were each other's intimates" and other insane quotes

"we were each other's intimates" is a paul quote about john which is just insane but that's not even the tip of the iceberg. here's a ton of quote compilations.

13. "literally everything else"/honorable mentions

some honorable mentions go out to: john going on stage w elton john & playing i saw her standing there and introducing it as "a song by an estranged fiance of mine" okay! the "just like starting over" demos. okay! which isn't even to MENTION the fact that paul locked himself away in the studio listening to "just like starting over" on repeat for DAYS after john died like???? john saying repeatedly that he considered paul & yoko to be his two major partners in life including in an interview the literal day he died. a whole ass rpf movie where they kiss & talk like they're ex-lovers and dance in central park (two of us) made by the same dude that made the let it be movie like. he knew them personally? he worked with them closely? and the only thing paul had to say about it was just essentially that it was what he wished would've happened like???????? i can't find a super reliable source for this so take it w a grain of salt, but apparently paul referred to mclennon fanfiction as "beautiful stories" and doesn't mind them being written. paul also had a cat that had kittens & he named two of the kittens pyramus and thisbe after fictional lovers he and john played and he gave pyramus (the character paul played) to john :|

and literally so much else like all of this and it's not even all of it. it's not even close to all of it. i didn't even get to talk about the way in "get back" the documentary, paul started talking about john leaving the band for yoko and how john would choose her over them and then he got teary eyed, started choke laughing, and then started singing "build me up buttercup" before looking at the cameras and stopping. what the FUCK was that about! IT'S NOT EVEN GETTING INTO THE SONG "TWO OF US" THAT'S SO OBVIOUSLY ABOUT JOHN THAT IT HURTS. it's. it's not even scratching the surface. they were just genuinely insane about each other.

#mclennon #this is long but it had to be to expand on every reference i made in that post FJADJFASDF

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ametrictonofaudacity · 1 year

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Platonic Yandere Batfam x Mentally Ill/Forgetful Reader

Warning: This work is a yandere work, hopefully part of a series, as as such will contain themes of manipulation, abuse, violence and obsession. Stay safe, and enjoy!!

Your ID was missing.

You stand in the middle of your room, every drawer open and rifled through. You had gone through every bag, every purse, every wallet it might have been it. You had moved the bed, moved the couch, moved every piece of furniture that it might have fallen behind. Nothing had worked.

“Fuck..” You groan, sinking onto your couch. “Fuck, this cannot be happening. I’m so screwed.”

You had a doctors appointment coming up, to get your anxiety meds refilled, and you were already starting to run low. You had been hoping to manage, but with your ID missing and no way to find it, you were shit out of luck.

Your phone rings, and you glance down, staring at the caller ID. It was Dick.

“Hey.” You greet, trying to force the appropriate amount of cheer into your voice. The older man was nice, pleasant to talk to and attentive, but he had the irritating habit of picking up on your moods eerily well, even over the phone. That would lead to him fussing, and while you appreciated the thought, you were an adult and would prefer to be treated like one.

“Hey! Everything alright? You sound stressed, kiddo.”

“I’m fine.” You huff, putting the phone on speaker. You, for whatever reason, despised things touching your face, even phones.

“Uh-huh. What’s going on? You’re never this quiet.” Dick presses, and you press your lips together into a fine line, starting to put up your stuff. It wouldn’t do to have someone come over when you had torn apart your apartment. You may live in Gotham, but you refused to have your apartment look half as bad on the inside as it did on the outside.

“My ID is missing. Don’t have a damn clue what happened to it.” You hear Dick suck in a breath, and you curl your shoulders in, wanting to sink into the floor and die. Dick was always so nice that any time you upset or disappointed him, it was like a punch to the gut.

“(Y/N)…” He starts, and your shoulders twitch up higher, and you dig your nails into your forearms.

“I know! I can’t find it anywhere, but I know it’s in the apartment because I literally had it last night.”

“Hey, it’s alright. Me and Dami will come over, we’ll help you look, alright.”

You groan. You didn’t want them coming over, especially not both him and Damian, and seeing you so freaked out and panicked. While Damian was, you knew, extremely mature for being 14, he was also judgemental as all hell and had the very annoying habit of implying that you shouldn’t be living alone. Which wouldn’t bother you all that much, he was a kid, but Dick seemed to be of the same opinion and it drive you absolutely insane some days.

“You guys don’t have to bother, really. I’ll find it, and if I don’t find it, I’ll set something up at the DMV to get a new one.”

“Just let us come over, (Y/N). Maybe we can help you find it.” Dick wasn’t asking now, and you huff, crossing your arms.

“Fine. Just let yourselves in when y’all get here, I guess.”

You hear Dick snicker, probably at your use of the word “y’all” and roll your eyes. For someone who was nearly a decade older than you, he sure had a childish sense of humor sometimes.

“Alright. We’ll see you than.” The phone beeps when he hangs up. You set it down, an ugly knot in your chest.

“Damn it.” You had been trying, so hard, to distance yourself from the Wayne family. They were nice enough, always willing to help even if they were always busy at some point or another, but they had the irritating habit of inserting themselves into anything you did. If you went out shopping, they were somehow there. Doctor’s appointment? They somehow met you outside the office. On a date? They were at the same restaurant. You weren’t sure if it was intentional or accidental but anytime you tried thinking about it you would nearly spiral so badly you had to stop.

“Fuck.” Your chest was tight, and you snarl, frustrated at the way your heart rate was starting to pick up and your hands were starting to shake. You knew, well and good, that the likelihood of it being anything nefarious was low, the Wayne’s were reknowned for being good people, from a multitude of backgrounds. That didn’t stop the way your mind latched onto the possibility though. You tried to ignore it. Your meds had been getting less and less effective, lately.

The doorbell rings. You get up off your couch, ignore the mess, and open the door.

“Hey.” Dick ruffles your hair, and you scowl. He doesn’t seem all that put off, but you suppose he wouldn’t with Jason and Damian as his brothers.

“Hey. You know I said to just let yourself in, right? I gave you a key for a reason.” This had been early on, in knowing the Wayne’s when you hadn’t realized that giving Dick a key meant surprise visits without a call and very little warning.

“Yeah, I know. I left it at the manor, though, I was using one of Bruce’s cars and don’t have my keys.” He explains, and steps inside, not even waiting for you to open the door further. Damian follows silently, and you mentally curse the fact the kid was 14 and already your height. He was going to be so damn tall, it was almost insulting.

“Cool. As you can see, I’ve been looking for it, and..” Your hand motions uselessly. Surprisingly, Dick nods, his face sympathetic. You had expected more scolding.

“Why don’t you just go and sit down, yeah? Me and Damian can search. Did you take your meds today? Set your alarm and everything?”

“I took my meds, Dick. All of them.”

“Including the Methylphenidate?”

“Dick, if I didn’t remember to take that, I wouldn’t remember to take anything else. I took all my meds today, and not only did I take my meds, I actually went to therapy this week instead of forgetting.”

“Good. You need it.” Damian hums, rooting through the couch cushion. You begin to get up to help him, and he sends you a sharp look. You sit back down.

“When do you need your meds refilled? Did you have it in the house?” Dick asks.

“It was in the house. And I need them refilled soon. I can probably try and stretch them out-“

“Don’t. We can get you your meds if we need to, just keep taking them on schedule.” Dick rebukes, and you cringe. You didn’t doubt they could, but you didn’t like feeling like a charity case

“Dick, y’all really don’t have to do that.”

“Relax.” He huffs, standing and squinting at the drawer angrily. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it. ‘Sides, you’ve helped me out more than a few times.”

“Yeah, by covering a shift not by buying your psych meds. These are not at all the same.” You laugh. You and Dick had met working at the YMCA in Bludhaven, and when you had moved to Gotham due to the extraordinarily cheap rent, you both had stayed in contact.

“May as well be.” Dick shrugs. “You cooking anything tonight?”

“Was gonna put some meat out to thaw.” You admit, flushing. The judgemental look Damian sends you says more than enough.

“Why don’t you come on over to the Manor to eat? I know Alfred has missed you helping him wrangle everyone together.” Dick offers, and you want to protest. What about your ID, which he had offered to help find? Wasn’t it late at night?

“Sure.” You say instead, reaching for your keys even as Dick cheers, and Damian smiles.

You can’t shake the feeling something is wrong even as you close your front door, locking it behind you, and let Dick lead you to the car.

#yandere platonic Batfam #yandere x reader #yandere platonic x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam

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youngtomhardy · 18 days

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single no. 3 ‘kiss kiss bang bang’ is out now 💋💥

this one might be the most important part of the MM2 story. this song was born the night i died. you can literally google ‘michael medrano kiss kiss bang bang’ and find the night i conceptualized this song — and the whole era really.

grief is incredibly hard to process, especially when it’s sudden and swift. i was in the room with people i thought were going to change my life forever. i wasn’t exactly poor growing up, but my family struggled for as long as i can remember. i moved 4 times, my dad worked his ass off and we still couldn’t afford to live somewhere comfortably. this caused turmoil and constant instability in my household, which in turn led to some really traumatic times i wish i could forget.

so when you end up in this kitschy club with incredibly successful and wealthy people, you suddenly feel wow… the struggle is over. i’ll finally get to take care of my family. they’ll never have to abruptly move again or live under a landlord who won’t even fix a broken fridge. i can take care of myself and everyone i love — i can have it all. and i’m about to sign the paper that puts it all in motion.

i remember my creative director at the time kept telling me to “never forget how incredible” i am. over and over again. going as far to call me “the next weeknd”. it was in that moment, high off of a shroom pill, i knew they’d killed me. my project was dead. and before i could wrap my head around it, i found myself sitting in the corner of a dingy karaoke suite watching it all end in slow motion. in my mind, i like to pretend it was more of a penthouse suite decorated to look like a humble, midcentury modern dream. they did go all out and get the most expensive suite anyway, as they always had.

the next day, everyone goes silent on me. texts aren’t replied to anymore. resources are cut off. album plans gone. the mystical “sylvia” i’ve been told so much about had vanished. it is probably the most devastating heartbreak i’ve gone through right next to my mom initially rejecting me once i was outed… a story for another time.

so i sat down in my tiny hometown apartment. and cried. drove to literally nowhere screaming at 3 am. praying that maybe they’d come back around and save me. but no one was coming — i was in free fall. alone again and so suddenly, like a rug pulled from under me or gunshot to the head. after months of the endless spiral, i got back to working a regular part time job, hating this life i was once again trapped in. but one day, after all that grief welled up inside me, i started writing again. and writing. and writing. and writing. i’d never been so angry in my life. i’d also never been so fucking determined. and now, here we are. 3 years later. 3 singles deep into MM2. and so much has changed.

never did i think id be sitting in the middle of hollywood in my new apartment, typing this and pulling and all-nighter to get the music video out to over 100k fans listening to me every month. my little guy abel laying next to me while my partner hacks away at editing.

i might not have the deal yet. i might not have the money or the team yet. but i woke up from the nightmare one day and you were all right there in front of me. i love you all so much and i hope you love this song as much as i do. MM2 is coming and i hope you’re ready, because i finally am.

#michael medrano #indie pop #new music #tumblr diary #kiss kiss bang bang #pop music

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auntbibby · 6 months

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my The Amazing Digital Circus o.c. is “Kitten” The Lioness. she’s me if i got sucked into TADC

i have a theory that each character’s body design is based on their traumas before they got sucked into The Amazing Digital Circus. so heres me:

my personal traumas are 1: i have tourettic Rage Attacks (due to my tourette syndrome) that are violent & destructive and im constantly scared im gonna have one and hurt somebody and break stuff, 2: i hate misunderstandings/miscommunications!!!! 3: im afraid of creepy crawlies

so therefor my body in the Amazing Digital Circus would be a scary lioness with a mane made of wormy hairs that would scream outloud whatever my inner thoughts are, as soon as i think them.

id be like “um, hi, am i dreaming? is this heaven? whats going on?” then my mane would scream “OH MY GOD I THINK IM IN SOME KIND OF SIMULATED MATRIX WORLD OR SOMETHIN, THIS IS ◼️◼️◼️◼️ING SWEET” then id be like “wait who said that?? whats this stuff on my neck-“ then my mane would be like “OH ◼️◼️◼️◼️ THERES BUGS ON MY NECK GET EM OFF GET EM OFF!!!!! AAAAHHHH!!! AAAAAHHHHH!!!!” then id freak out for 3 minutes trying to rip my mane off…. then id say “i hate this sooo much but umm….. i should introduce myself…. i’m…… wait…. whats my name again?”

i think, based on my lifes experience and history, i would adapt to living in an isolated virtual world better than some…. id probably have a personality somewhere between Gangle and Ragatha! probably closer to Gangle. in other words id cope with the trauma by crying and being sympathetic to others.

id be kind of like a clingy housecat, spending some time socializing with the others to maintain sanity, spending other time resting alone in my room (cryin) or in the main common area.

me: *sobbing*

my mane: IM GONNA BE HERE FOR TRILLIONS AND TRILLIONS OF YEARS OMG ◼️◼️◼️◼️ING HELL

Ragatha comes into my room: "hey Kitten how are u doin?"

me: "i-im..... im.... im okay...."

my mane: IM NOT OKAY IM SPIRALLING PLS GIVE ME A HUG

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inklingofadream · 9 months

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(1/3) Heartbreaking! Here's what I imagine: The gang doesn't know/can't trust anyone, and they can't just go back to their old jobs (it'll take DECADES for Sasha to learn computers again), so all they can do is play boardgames (freshly bought) and debate in circles. Why is Jon avoiding them? What has Jonah done to him? Is he in danger now? (How should they kill Jonah?) Beholding got them back only for them to sit around worried and bored. Jonah recognises why Beholding did this, that Time wasn't

(2/3) a viable solution after all. This realization does not lead to any kind of useful personal development. They were doing FINE. Jon could be happy if he just TRIED. Jon feels terrible because HE did this to his friends and he can't even support them properly. But he's also frustrated and defensive when they try to push him on WHY he seems to prefer the guy they all - to them so recently - agreed was Bad. Danny's especially hurt. Jon walks on eggshells around everyone, and ironically feels

(3/3) more alone than ever. He spirals. Everyone Hates Him. He doesn't want to hurt Jonah. He doesn't want to get hurt by him. Should he just leave for a while? But then he can't keep his friends safe... Also word quickly spreads about Team Blessed by Beholding and the gang has to deal with being creeped on by the entire cult as they're basically THE Apostles of the Messeyeah. No one knows who they actually are though, so people just collectively create a rather unhinged mythology on the spot.

(4/4) Secret message: I honestly don't know if you appreciate long brain-dumping messages like this. If you don't, just don't respond to the three previous asks and I'll stop :) Also, please don't take it as pressure to continue this particular storyline or even to write more in general, I'm just really excited about your whole au thing and I wanted to share the picture it has painted in my brain today. xoxo Jonah ask anon

yesssss love a brain dump, love your asks

The one solid Thing I know happens post-resurrection is that they Can't live in the barracks. Like it's just not feasible. Aside from the fact that several of these people Did Not Sign Up For This and Will try to peace out and make their way in the world (which Jonah obviously can't allow for both control and logistical reasons, they don't have money or ID and they'll probably like. get shot by Robocop idk future struggles) a separate and rapidly-becoming-fancier room(s) next to Jon's is constructed. Like it might be their own mini compound with a separate bathroom/living room/bedrooms but my initial gut instinct is bunk beds. The kind that's a twin on top and a double or queen on bottom, because there are two married couples. Bed 1: Sasha/Michael on bottom, Gerry on top; bed 2: Georgie/Melanie on bottom, Martin on top; Bed 3: regular bunk bed, the Stokers, I think I might actually have stated who was top bunk and who was bottom when they lived in the Institute so it's whatever I said then

That aside, it has a door like Jon's that locks from both inside and outside, and another that connects to Jon's rooms that can only be locked from Jon's side, with a single key only he has. There is Drama about keys, because it's been part of being the Archivist, on the same level as taking statements, for a VERY long time and Gerry Is Coming To Collect. The separate room reasoning is we used to sleep in Jon's room but he's avoiding us and if he isn't here he's with Jonah which is obviously unacceptable, so we need somewhere to clear out to so he'll come back.

I also think one of the things Jonah decides is that clearly they weren't Beholding enough before if they died (ignoring that it Did Not think through stuff like that, this was not on its radar before Jon told it directly) so we need to fix it so it doesn't happen again. He manages enough logic to corner them into New Tattoos, something Gerry designs that goes around their wrists or over their hearts, I think. Because Jonah mixes the Getting Shot By Robocop concern and the Jon concern into Jon being afraid he's just going to lose them again so he's avoiding them.

This does not help Jon's fear and guilt complex! Also, bad news! it's been a long time since Jon got his! Jonah has filled a New Jar Of Eyes! But I think Georgie is something of a blindspot even WITH a tattoo, which Jonah Hates

Also definitely a thing is that the current James-Shelleys are in a super weird position. Like we're past the point of anything beyond "Jon was such good friends with them 🥰" to have been remembered. But there's still a definite family resemblance to several of them. And what do you even do with that? From either end?

And I think Gerry at least is sympathetic to Jon's situation. He's very clear on Jonah having manipulated Jon into it, but he gets How. Vs several of the others having it snag their brains in a way that makes them defensive and passive aggressive and a bit mean. They come around before too long, but it's well past the point where Martin and Tim have become lifelong Complaining Buddies. But Gerry sees stuff like Jonah coming up to see wtf is happening when they arrive and Jon SPRINTING across the room and wrapping around him and recognizes it. It's the exact same way Jon used to try to fuse with HIS side when he was upset or scared. It's a bit less platonic, the image of the gang getting tattoos in my head has Jon fancied up and sitting in Jonah's literal lap bc he's so upset, but it's the same pattern. And Gerry gets a share of the guilt complex bc being like 90 years old is not a good enough excuse for having Abandoned His Best Friend

And I think the thing that eventually resets everyone's view of Jon is Jon not caring if they go in his rooms because he is Gone Gone Gone and Gerry remembering how Jon appeared from between the clothes. Cue a very Scooby Doo searching-for-hidden-rooms montage and some Big Emotions when they find what Jon saved, how carefully it's kept in climate controlled cases and STILL falling apart in many cases. It drives home both that Jon DID miss them terribly- he was literally in there when they appeared- and how enormous the time without them really was.

(cue Beholding FREAKING OUT because that makes them decide they need some Serious Jonah-free strategizing, because obviously he'll try to sabotage them as much as he can without alienating Jon. And the tunnels are right there. And it may not care as much about them, but it tried SO hard to make Jon happy and now they're GONE what HAPPENED Jon is going to CRY!!)

(also "Jon could be happy if he just TRIED" pinged something in my brain, so if anyone is interested in Jonelias-flavored manipulation, heavy Jon whump, and Elias having absurd unreasonable expectations I highly recommend The Haunting of Elias Bouchard it's an absolute gutpunch)

#also at no point is robocop an actual problem i just COULD NOT come up with a different Future Problem #writing #asks #cult au #feedback #ink post #fic rec

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playersleft · 1 year

Text

‘It’s not like I want to hurt myself...’

But look at him. Just look at him. Who would believe a guy like that?

For the most part, it’s become like this-- run to a game, grab a snack, back to room. He feels bad for it, but putting on a face- any face, became something exhausting to do. He can’t even make it to every game, these days.

‘Gracias, Salita-’ Muttering under his breath, he greets the lounge on such an occasional late-night visit. Nobody is here, so you can come out- Her whisper served as the final straw, breaking him out of the trance at this ungodly hour. He can’t express how grateful he is to her, but he whispers back, and strokes the wood as he settle into the barstool. Nobody is here... So.. it’s okay to ask the keeper for a drink.

You sure that’s a good idea? The flickering lamp to the right seems to say that- But he wouldn’t be able to sleep in the first place, and he doesn’t want to go back ‘there’. Besides, old habits die hard. He lulls her with a limply waving hand, and the flickering stops.

No... ‘back there’ s a no-go. He’s frustrated with the trance of it. At least like this, while he may end up somewhere ‘else’, it’s at least a more vivid and exciting kind of spiral-- And even if it’s the worst kind of exciting, being written off as drunk is better than anything. Besides, Boss, you can have this guy just carry me back, right? Pretty please~? But, the experience of being drunk is better, regardless. Right now, at least.

Right now... It’s always like that, swaying in and out of rationality. The desire to be present, to feel, and to think about where he is, what’s going on around him. Another hour’s him would say that it’s bad to drink, or to overthink, or to cut yourself, or any of it -- But that one had a bad habit of going on vacation every handful of hours or so. It used to be less frequent, at least... But no, that one would always leave when he got bored.

I don’t wanna be self destructive. Period. Stop accusing me of that. That’s the same guy who used to stumble into dead-of-night raves, fake ids ready to go and not a soul aware of where he was. Drugs, drinks and pressing up against strangers, the less caring they were the more willing he was. ‘I want to take care of myself’ -- This hypocrite dropped his corpse in the devil’s lap more times than he could count.

The memories of that are all gone now, mostly- But the habits never left. Yet this pattern of hiding and sneaking around with that ugly side-- Though it’s not like anybody bought it, anyway. The scars he wears are clear as day, and nobody believes for a second that they’re not... -- It’s not like it matters, though. It’s not like he even cares what they think. But that guy, that crappy guy who keeps preaching about love and life and whatever-the-fuck-else, keeps leaving him hanging with nowhere to go. And the more these ‘fellow players’ think about him, on any level...

It use to be easy. That’s what it is. It used to be easy, when that guy checked out, and his eyes got too blurry to deal with on his own-- He could turn to people who didn’t give a crap whether he lived or died. The feeling it gave him was weightless, in a different way than he was used to... A good way. A relieving way. ... Being grounded by way of floating-

There used to be people here who gave him the same kind of feeling.. The ones to drink with, smoke with, sleep with. Not many, not at all- but a reckless few, who did a better job keeping him at ease than anyone. That kind of haven’s been gone for a long time... And it make sense. It’s a miracle he’s still here, when he was probably worse than them.

But, damn... He’s not good at being alone.

So, he drinks. Alone. Late at night, quiet as can be to make sure it stays that way-- What a thinker! What a hypocrite~ But with any luck, he’ll pass out, and the keeper will take him back, and ‘that guy’ will be back by tomorrow’s game. And he’ll be able to keep saying that, ‘I don’t want to hurt myself’ -- as if anyone would ever believe it.

#P.18

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mareplumbeo · 1 year

Text

— Sarah Russell, If I Had Three Lives

[Text ID:

"If I had three lives, I'd marry you in two. The other? Perhaps that life over there at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing — a memoir, maybe a novel or this poem. No kids, probably, a small apartment with a view of the river, and books — lots of books, and time to read. Friends to laugh with, and a man sometimes, for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like when it's alive. I'd be thinner in that life, vegan, practice yoga. I'd go to art films, farmer markets, drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry. I'd vacation on the Maine coast and wear a flannel shirt weekend guy left behind, loving the smell of sweat and aftershave more than I did him. I'd walk the beach at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks water makes in sand. And I'd wonder sometimes if I'd ever find you."

End text ID]

#stumbled upon this poem today and liked it enough to think it was worth sharing :)#quotes #sarah russell #literature #dark academia #books and libraries

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hist0riccemetary · 2 years

Text

this is a vent post pls don’t judge me it’s literally just a stream of thoughts at 4:30-5AM

i fucking.

i can’t. brain spiraling too bad, can’t take an emergency medicine because i need to be awake in an hour and a half and they’ll knock me out.

i cannot stop replaying all of these things in my fucking head

i reread all that fucking shit you said to me and i wish i could just go fucking numb to it. i cannot believe that i fucking believed you. i still do in a sense. i also literally cannot even go to bed at this hour so i might as well just do my chores. try and occupy myself so i don’t fucking keep ending up crying like the lil bitch i’m acting like.

everyone in my life will slowly become tired of it. they already are, i reckon. i need to learn how to exist alone.

but fuck if i didn’t want to exist with you in the beautiful stupid hypothetical future that we talked about. i never said it back, but you’re my fucking dream too.

and i love you too and i fucking want to just tell you right the fuck now but i can’t. it’s been 9 days and it’s so goddamn weird to not just send you something when i think of you.

honestly this is actually kinda cathartic just writing it down. way more then i expected. i’m trying to live my life for myself but instead i’m literally just trying to stay busy so i can distract my brain. i wasn’t stupid for trusting you, i had every reason to think you were safe. i wasn’t stupid for not seeing the signs that you’re not doing that great. i’m just in too deep now to just drop it like that.

you left me and a few days later you went through our dms and “loved” sweet romantic shit i sent you prior. i don’t understand how to take that at all. i told you goodbye and you wouldn’t say it back. you send me specific joke catered to my interest, don’t acknowledge the fact that you apparently can’t maintain this with me.

i regret not responding but i wanted to make myself take a week. we’ll probably never speak again. i have so many of your things. i sleep with your hoodie every night. when will i stop? when will i stop checking for your name every time i get a text? you’re too proud to try again once you’ve already “reached out” i’d bet. literally just like you’re too proud to just come home even though you’re not in the greatest environment.

i know you’re not doing well. or you definitely weren’t last time we spoke. you literally didn’t have to face this alone, no matter what your brain is telling you. i know what it feels like to self isolate when shit is really really rough in the brain sphere. but i told you i would hold space for you as you worked through this and i meant it. you probably think i’m lying. because i can’t just go back to talking to you daily as “friends.” id answer in a heartbeat if you needed me. but as much as it absolutely hurts to not talk to you, i’m protecting myself from the fact that you (who promised you knew exactly what you wanted) have no fucking idea what you want.

i’m gonna do laundry. fuck it.

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glassartpeasants · 3 years

Note

If you don't make a happy ending for couldn't care less you better keep bob with you at all times

HOW DARE YOU THREATEN BOB YOU KNOW WHAT-

Couldn’t Care Less .2

Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, death, blood, abuse, gore

~~~

“i hope that blue haired fuck got what he wanted. I hope that handyman freak dies alone.” You say to yourself as you walk down the alleys way of Musutafu. The smell of the dingey and moldy alleyways flood your nose as the laughter of happy couples ring in your ears.

How come they got they’re happily ever after but you didn’t? It wasn’t fair. You did everything you could to be there for him. Yet he still treats you like shit, all because you cared about him? And then he thinks your cheating all cause you ask a male friend for advice! What an insecure asshole.

A vibrating in your pocket brought you back to reality as you realize your phone was ringing. Letting out a sigh you answer,

“Hello?”

“Come pick up your shit.” Oh, you thought you blocked this fuck.

“Keep it asshole. I don’t want anything that smells like ‘lonely bastard who only gets action from his hand’ on my clothes. Burn it, decay it, I couldn’t give a shit less.”

“God you were always so dramatic. And there’s no reason to be a cunt.”

“And there was no reason for you to be an insecure dick. You either block my number or im calling the police and ratting on you.” A silence fell over the phone. Nothing was said until you finally spoke up.

“Jeez your pathetic. I’ll do it myself.” He was about to say something, insult your most likely before you hung up the phone and blocked him not seconds later.

“Now he’s outta my hair. I can finally feel some sort of calm.”

~~~

3 weeks later

After a day of coming back to your musty apartment you decided it needed a little bit of cleaning, considering you haven’t been their in about 4 months. You paid up front all the time even when you weren’t living in it. Just in case ya know?

You swept up the floors, vacuumed the carpet AND shampooed it.Cleaned the tub, shower and sinks, cleaned out your empty refrigerator, washed all you sheets and what clothes you left there. It wasn’t much so you knew you had to get some more before anything else. That and groceries.

After all that was said and done, you sat down on the couch and just relaxed. Well you tired, that was before Shigaraki popped into your head again. It wasn’t a sort of loving way, it was a hatred sort of. The thought of his stupid face made you just want to punch a wall, pretending to be his face.

But you ignored it as you turned on the Tv, hoping that would get your mind off him. Nothing interesting except the news. Always talking about violence and war. Same old thing over and over. Blood, death, tragedy.

“This world is a cruel unjust place. The only way it seems to be recognized in this world is death or doing horrible things. Nothing good every comes to fruition.” You grumble before walking to your room and plopping down on the nice clean and still warm sheets. The nice smell of lavender slowly dragging you to sleep.

~~~

A loud bang hit your door which ripped you from your slumber. You were questioning on checking it out before you heard something that made your heart stop,

“If there’s anyone in the house kill them, we can’t have people knowing we ransacked this place.” You slowly get off your bed before moving slowly and quietly to your window. Your push your fingers on the glass and you gently push it up. Grabbing at the sides of the window you pull yourself out of it, not before hearing a gunshot and a burning pain inside your calf.

“Fuck! They’re getting away!” You could hear them from inside the house.

“Did they see you?!” You fell from your window onto the ground. Thankfully your apartment was on the first floor so it wasn’t a high drop.

“Not that i know of! I did shot them in the leg so they shouldn’t have gotten far!” You try your hardest as you run towards the main street. Cutting through alleyways, going as fast as you can as you hear they’re footsteps behind you. Looking up closely you see a hero, knowing he was your only chance you scream for help.

“Help me please!” The hero’s head turned towards you and ran towards you. You guess the robbers heard your cry for help because they’re footsteps seemed to be heading back your probably trashed apartment.

“Oh my! What happened?!” The sound of the hero’s concerned voice calmed you down a bit.

“Some people tried to rob my place and i tried to get out of there silently but they must have came into my room and saw me leaving and shot me in the calf!” You wince as putting pressure on the wound burned hotter than hell.

“Don’t worry! I’ll get you to the hospital in no time!” You felt relieved before hearing a crunching sound, you looked to your left and see a familiar patch of blue hair in your peripheral vision. You ignored him before getting picked up by the hero and was carried to the hospital. The blood loss from your calf slowly dragged you into unconsciousness.

~~~

After waking up you notice the white room you were in. It was pristine to the touch and smelled of lemon cleaning products. The bright lights hallways peered inside your room from the crack of your door.

Looking around the small feeling of pain crept back into your leg except not as painful anymore. Pulling back the covers you notice bandages and a small bit of blood that stained through the bandages around your wound.

“Ah fuck that’s gonna scar. It’s gonna be a pain to heal too.” You say to yourself as you pull back the blankets and wrap yourself up in them.

Right as you were falling back asleep the ringing of your cellphone brought you out. Grumbling in annoyance you grab it and look at the caller id. It was a number you didn’t recognize so you just let it ring thinking it’ll be the end of it. That was until it started ringing again. You sighed in frustration and picked up the phone, not wanting it to ring longer since it was in the dead of night at the hospital and you wanted people to be able to sleep.

“What the hell do you want? It’s the middle of the night.” You annoyed voice rang into the other side of the phone.

“Why tf were you talking to a hero? Did you fucking break your end of the bargain?” You were confused at first. You definitely knew the voice behind the phone. Then you remembered earlier that day when you saw him in the shadows.

“I was literally shot. You think im not gonna ask someone for help?” You rub the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t believe you. You always were a two faced bitch.”

“Oh jesus fuck, thanks for the insult. Glad to know what you always thought about me.”

“I’m going to kill you you backstabbing bitch.”

“Love ya too. goodnight and goodbye Shigaraki.” You hung up and blocked said number. You weren’t going to lie, hearing him spill such an insult and threat hurt you and made you very weary and afraid if he would actually go through with it or if he was just saying that to scare you.

You knew what those hands could do and you knew how painful that death would have been. You were hurt more than you liked to admit, at the beginning of your relationship he wasn’t aggressive or mean at all towards you. He’d try to get you flowers or your favorite type of drink. He called you pet names that would make your heart flutter and beat, you don’t know what you did wrong for him to change so suddenly. It was like on day he flipped a switch, and you never knew why.

You tried recalling the day where it started and remembered that everyone was annoyed or being rude to Dabi, you didn’t know why and when you asked Spinner or anyone else they just said it was national, be a bitch to Dabi day. You laughed and shrugged it off ignoring it before walking up to your boyfriend giving him a kiss on the lips, only to be pushed into the wall and ignored. You just looked at him in shocked and it had only spiraled down from there to where you are now.

Something had to be wrong. You knew it, Dabi had to have something to do with Shigaraki’s switch in behavior. You looked around the room for any camera and when you noticed that there were none, you called up the burnt male himself. He surprisingly picked up on the first ring.

“(Y/N)? I haven’t heard from you in 3 weeks. Or was it four? Doesn’t matter, where have you been?”

“Dabi, i need you to be honest with me, did you say something to Shigaraki?”

“Huh?”

“Dabi, five months ago Shigaraki flipped a switch and went from a caring boyfriend to an actually nightmare. I need to know if you or anyone else said something to him.” Dabi was quiet on the other line before sighing,

“About that time range i made a joke about sleeping with you, everyone knew it was a joke but apparently Shigaraki didn’t. I didn’t think he’d treat you like he did. Im sorry.” You fell silent. All this shit treatment because Shigaraki couldn’t a joke. Sure it pissed you off that Dabi made such a stupid joke but you were more mad at Shigaraki that he just treated you like shit instead of asking you and confronting you about it.

“Thank you for telling me. Do you know where Shigaraki is now?”

“He left about an hour ago, why?” Shit. You knew this was the only hospital close to your place and Shigaraki knew that too. You got up from your bed and locked the door before going back into your bed, watching the crack under your door incase the light was blocked.

“Dabi, I just want you to know that i forgive you.”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about-” Your phone went silent as the battery died.

‘Shit shit shit shit!’ you thought to yourself as you beg for the phone to turn back on. But you fell silent as the light from the outside of your room was blocked.

“(Y/N), I know you're in there, open the fucking door before i decay it down.” You said nothing in fear. You were glued to your bed as you faced the door.

But that fear was nothing compared to seeing him actually decay the door.

“You stupid snitch. i should make your death as painful as possible.” he said as soon as he stepped inside your hospital room.

“Shigaraki, I didn’t snitch I promise. Why don’t you believe me!” You say as you get off your bed and try to get as far away from him as possible. The pain of the bullet would making you wince.

“Why would I believe a cheating bitch like you?” Before you could speak a four fingered grip wrapped itself around your throat. Shigaraki was always fast, you should have known that you were gonna die even if you tried your hardest.

“I didn’t cheat on you!” You try to pry yourself from shigaraki’s grip.

“Dabi says otherwise.”

“Are you really going to believe him?! You didn’t even talk to me or ask me about it! Just went straight to believing him!” The grip on your neck got tighter.

“then why was they’re a hickey on your collarbone?!”

“You gave it to me! It was fading out!”

“That doesn’t change the fact you snitched!” His pinkie was grazing closer to your skin.

“I never snitched, I was robbed and then they shot me. If you went to my apartment you would see i was right.” He said nothing just staring at you with cold dead eyes.

“Look! I have bandages wrapped around my calf!” Shigaraki looked down before saying something back.

“It was something the hero’s did so they could protect you in this shit hospital.” I was at that moment you knew, nothing you said would change his mind. You shed not a tear while looking him in the eyes

“I wish I never met you. Fuck you Tomura Shigaraki, I hope you die alone and I’ll see you in hell.” You move your head so his last and final finger touched your skin.

The pain of your skin decaying and falling off was much more painful than you thought it would be. You can remember screaming in pain but, it felt more of a emotional scream rather than one of physical pain. but it seems you weren’t the only one screaming.

The sounds of Shigaraki wailing and screaming your name reached your ears before all you heard was silence and saw nothing.

Shigaraki scrambled to try and grab you and even put you together, but your bloody ashes stuck to his hand. Remains of your existence covered his clothes as he screamed in pain.

“No no no no! Wait please! I didn’t mean it!” He cried as his tears fell onto your ashes, the tears collecting the ashes and forming a grey tear drop. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he’s sorry! He didn’t want to kill you!

Bile rose from his throat as he puked all over the ground, inches away from your ashes. He grabbed your ashes trying to pick them up to hold what was left of you. But all he got was the remains of your smeared all over his hoodie. He shook violently as memories of you guys replayed in his mind, your happy face and the way you use to love him and care for him.

But now, you were nothing more than ashes on his sleeve, reminding him that he was now truly alone.

#tomura shigaraki #mha #bnha #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shiragaki #mha tomura #Shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #never threaten bob again anon :)

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gay-otlc · 3 years

Text

Can we talk about how Sophie has trichotillomania?

Because I've been involved in KOTLC fandoms for over two years and I've heard it mentioned exactly once.

Trichotillomania is a disorder characterized by uncontrollable, repetitive pulling of hair. This can be scalp hair, eyebrows, arm hair, leg hair, eyelashes, really any type of hair. Even though the person knows they aren't supposed to enjoy pulling, they get a weird sense of pleasure or calm from it, and it's difficult to stop. Pulling is frequently done in stressful situations.

Does that sound familiar to anyone? Ring any bells?

Yeah, it sounds like Sophie Foster.

In the books, it's played off as sort of just another nervous habit, a weird quirk of Sophie's. It's mentioned a few times by other friends/adult figures as they ask whether it hurts, but when she says no, they don't tell her to stop. She's often described as "pulling on an itchy eyelash," but it seems to be more of a stress response than something causing her stress.

I thought it was just another weird quirk of hers until I started pulling out my hair. I would pull it most when I was stressed, and it always felt "itchy" just before I did.

It was horrible. Trichotillomania is fucking destructive. At my worst point, I had a huge, gaping bald spot. I didn't talk to people because I was ashamed of my hair. I missed class once because I couldn't tear myself away from the mirror and stop pulling. I spent hours in front of the mirror each day, checking and checking to make sure no one would know anything was weird if they looked at me.

It was so hard. And I felt so alone.

Now, as I said before, I read KOTLC nearly three years ago and have been making fan content for over two. Suffice it to say that series means a lot to me. How do you think it would have felt, if the protagonist of this huge part of my life, was just like me, struggled like me, and it turned out okay for her? I would have had so much hope that it could get better instead of climbing and clawing for every shred of progress.

Now, how do you think it felt to see that protagonist go through something similar, but it didn't matter much to her? It made me feel like some whiny bitch for being this upset about my hair. If Sophie Foster could have trich and go through life functioning fine (well, not really, but the trich doesn't make anything worse for her is my point), why couldn't I? Pathetic.

Like most days, today is a good day to get pissed at L*ura, so I'm going to use her art as an example. This is a close up screenshot of Sophie's eye (please ignore the cursor in the middle, my computer hates me).

[Image ID: A close up picture of an brown eye. It has long, dark eyelashes surrounding it and a cursor covering the pupil.]

(Please tell me if my image ID is shit idk how to write these.)

As we can clearly see, Sophie has long, dark eyelashes. The top eyelashes are most obvious, but there's a fair amount on the bottom as well. It's been a while since I've read the books, but Sophie doesn't wear makeup much, if I recall correctly. So she probably wouldn't be wearing mascara.

Then why the fuckity fuck do her eyelashes look so, for lack of a better word, normal, when she pulls them every three paragraphs?

People with trichotillomania look like they have trichotillomania. I have a bald spot. When I did all my research on trich in an OCD spiral, one writer said she had to wear wigs. Another said she had zero eyelashes for years. Someone on here (not saying who just in case they don't want me to) said their left eyebrow was nearly gone.

I hated how I looked in the worst of my trichotillomania days. It's less noticeable now, but I still hate it. I feel like a freak, to not have hair like a 'normal' person.

Now, Sophie Foster is described as beautiful. She has all the boys and the girls after her. She's an elf, all elves are beautiful. But she pulls out her eyelashes, and she pulls out her eyelashes so often, that unless elf hair grows at really different speeds (which I doubt it would, considering that would have been very noticeable when Sophie lived with humans), she would have no or very few eyelashes.

And yet, that was erased in her official art. Why? Because apparently, people can't look like they have trich and still be beautiful.

But that's bullshit. People with trich are beautiful. I am looking in mirrors and trying to tell myself I look beautiful instead of crying. Bald spots are beautiful. Eyes without eyelashes are beautiful. Brow ridges without eyebrows are beautiful.

People with trich are beautiful, dammit!

So give us that, Shannon. Give that to your readers who don't have trich, so they understand it, and your readers who do, so they see themselves for the first time and don't feel alone.

Give us Sophie Foster thinking she's ugly and a freak because she doesn't have eyelashes, and give us Keefe or Fitz or Biana or whoever telling her she still is.

Give us Sophie Foster trying to sit on her hands, telling herself not to pull, doing it anyway, and hating herself.

Give us Sophie Foster standing in front of the mirror and crying because she can't stop, she can't stop.

Give us Sophie Foster seeking help and trying to get better, trying to heal.

Give us Sophie Foster trying and relapsing and trying and relapsing and trying and relapsing and trying.

If you're going to give us Sophie Foster with trichotillomania, give us a character with trichotillomania.

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regina-del-cielo · 3 years

Text

I was thinking about Copley’s Murder Conspirancy Board (mostly to deal with the absolute rage that the scene with Andy Copley and Booker gives me because ‘UGH THESE MEN ARE SO S T U P I D’), and... I may have a Theory about it - which mostly delves into how much Booker and Copley were in actual contact with each other before the events of the movie.

TL;DR: the Murder Conspirancy Board was built with a contribution of Booker’s information, and Copley was Very Confused on the workings of the Guard’s immortality

(the Essay(TM) is under the cut)

This excellent post expounds on how these two Grieving Dumbasses Definitely Did Not Think Their Plan Through, but still what little they did plan was not done in two days. And I would like to think that Booker would have required more than One (1) Persuasive Speech to get him to potentially get his family outed and put in danger for the (tiny) chance of getting a cure for their immortality.

So they’d been in contact for a while, possibly for almost the whole ‘break year’. Copley has lost his wife two years before the movie, so when he and Booker met again he’s one year into mourning. If Andy needed a break from their jobs, I can’t imagine in what mental state Booker must have been.

Copley probably started looking into the Guard because man, that Surabaya mission was a masterpiece, and how come these guys aren’t mercenary superstars? But they’re like ghosts, and the IDs don’t really match their supposed ages... and dealing with his wife’s death made him go into a Nerd Spiral. And then he finds Booker.

So this is how I think it went: they meet again. They talk. Copley is a grieving widower, Booker goes ‘man don’t I relate’. Booker is probably drunk a lot of the time (maybe so is Copley, misery loves company and all that). They enter a positive feedback loop of sharing grief over lost loved ones. Copley probably spills that he knows something, that they’ve done great things and they have a gift obviously. Booker probably answers along the lines of ‘fuck the gift, it sucks. Didn’t save my children when they needed it’. Copley goes ‘well, medicine is much better today. What if you could do it now?’ And the rest is history.

A) Booker ‘helped’ with the Murder Conspirancy Board

We know for a fact that the Conspirancy Board contains information about the Guard ‘from the last 150 years’ which is, approximately, the time photography’s been around. And it makes sense - photos are pretty easily accessible, and Copley knows their faces. He probably scanned them from one of those fake IDs and then used a facial recognition software to find them in historical photographic archives. But we know (and by the end of the movie so does he) that the last 150 years is a nothing in their lifespan. And while going backwards Copley may have found Booker’s original birth and/or marriage records, nothing of the sort would exist for Joe, Nicky and Andy.

Despite how much we joke about the Guard’s faces being Everywhere in museums and art galleries around the world, we can assume that they wouldn’t leave so many traces of them behind. The two known art pieces representing Andy in an obviously recognizable manner, her portrait with Achilles and the Rodin, are in the cave in Val d’Argent. I don’t believe Nicky and Joe wouldn’t have similar storage places, especially for Joe’s own art. Without photographic evidence and before newspapers, trying to pinpoint the three of them across history would be harder than finding a specific needle in a haystack of needles... unless someone tells you where to look.

When Andy enters Copley’s living room, he calls her ‘Andromache the Scythian, the eternal warrior’. But how could Copley have known that Andy’s “real” name was Andromache? It’s not on her IDs, and it’s not the top choice for a full name that has Andy as a nickname. It’s a literary name, of course it would appear through history in poems or plays or novels. And how could he have associated Nicky and Joe precisely to the Crusades with what he knows of them from the last 150 years alone? For all he knew, they could have been as old as the Punic Wars, or as young as the Battle of Lepanto. Assuming he’d actually caught on on them being together together.

Well, I think Booker told him. Maybe just a thing here or there, while Commiserating on How It Sucks being an Immortal, like ‘Andy’s been around for so long she doesn’t even remember her true age, that’s exhausting’ or ‘Joe and Nicky are ridiculous for two people whose first meeting consisted of killing each other during the fucking Crusades’. And Copley fell into another Nerd Spiral that brought him to understand that holy shit these people are much older than I thought what the fuck.

B) Copley is Very Confused on How Immortality Actually Works

Copley talks to Andy by calling her ‘eternal warrior’ and talking of her immortality as if it was some kind of gift that can somehow be transferred from one body to another (debatable, but... ok). But he’s also flabbergasted by her not healing from Booker’s shot, and later with Nile he says ‘but then why would the immortality leave?’, which is... well, it makes it sound like he thinks the immortals are some sort of Chosen Ones.

Which means that Copley knows nothing about Lykon. He had no idea that at some point the Guard will stop healing.

But why would he not know, since I just conjectured that Booker told him enough about immortality for him to pinpoint the origins of the eldest members of the Guard? Why would Booker not have told him such a central detail of their “power”? (Booker obviously knows about Lykon. We see Andy telling Nile, and you can bet that ‘is this thing permanent?’ is probably the third question Booker ever asked when he met the others. He can’t not know)

I think it’s because despite having bonded over their grief, they are approaching this ‘discovering what the fuck is up with immortality’ from two extremely different sides.

Copley wants to know if there is some biological aspect to their immortality that may be ‘transferred’ or ‘activated’ in any random human being. He’s gotten into his head that their regenerative powers can end all diseases. Which. I could probably write another entire separate post on how this is far-fetched at best. Point being, Copley never thought his endeavour as taking the immortality from the Guard to give it to someone else. He thinks Andy and the others are going to live forever and ever.

Booker knows their immortality is not forever and ever, theoretically. He knows that at some point, in the future, he’s going to stop healing and die. But he Wants to Talk to the Manager about it, damn it. He wants his death to be a certainty he can quantify, not something that may happen in another five thousand years based on the data he’s got at his disposal. He wants to have the choice to end it tomorrow or in fifty years - if discovering what causes his immortality saves other people, well that’s an undeniable bonus, but it’s not the focus of his motivation.

Just like Booker and Copley didn’t cover all the potential ways in which Their Plan Could Go Wrong (and honestly, has Booker not learned yet just how fast they revive on average? He tells Nile that ‘big wounds take longer’, and still he revived from the grenade in three/four minutes!), I think they also didn’t Delve into their motivations for seeking that knowledge. Booker probably thought that Copley knowing of their immortality being relative was irrelevant, because of course the doctors will find something (the thing that makes them stop healing), and then he’ll die anyway, so who cares?

And Copley... Copley was probably Convinced that the Guard was a group of superheroes that just needed to be suggested a new investment plan for using their powers, because saving individuals during wars and natural disasters is very noble and good, but come on, it’s inefficient as hell, they can do much better!

(It absolutely sends me that Copley saw the kind of accomplishments reached by the people that the Guard saved, or by their direct descendants, and STILL it didn’t occur to him that there was a pretty decent chance that sometime in the future they would save someone that would find the cure for ALS and/or other shitty diseases! HE’S LITERALLY HINDERING THEM!!!)

#the old guard #my ponderings #james copley #sebastien le livre #my favourite Depressed French Boi #James 'Dumb of Ass' Copley #Copley is an Absolute Imbecile and I will Die on this Hill #I hope this rant makes sense I changed the order of the paragraphs a hundred times I'm sorry #just to be clear Booker didn't Completely Spill the Beans about the family to Copley otherwise the man would know about Quynh too #Copley most likely scraped at any small detail he could glean from their conversations and add it to the Nerd Spiral #Copley is a Nerd that also somehow forgot how to extrapolate results from given data #for the Guard's sake I hope his skills were hindered by his grief and he goes back to Full Operativeness once he gets some Therapy #THEY NEED SO MUCH THERAPY OMG

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graceslavenderhaze · 3 years

Text

fight night (jatp crew x reader)

readers home life hasn’t been the best and they’ve been lying to their friends about it. one night it all builds up and the reader shows up to julies, distraught. ( for this the boys are alive bc it just worked out best but other than that no changes.)

this has been sitting in my drafts so i thought i’d post it

trigger warning: family fights, anxiety, depression, past talk of eating disorders.

For a long time you use to just keep everything buried down. That was your fatal flaw. It wasn’t a trust issue, you just always had this feeling that if no one knew then everything would be fine. But your family had lately been falling apart, your parents always seemed disappointed in you, you were fighting with your siblings more and it felt it a ballon that kept on expanding. you didn’t know when everything was going to explode it just kept getting worse.

Today was the exploding point. It seemed like no matter what you did, it just wasn’t good enough. You were the black sheep in your family, they made you out to be it. They complained about how you dressed, what your room looked like, the music you played, the people you hung out with, and for what? You didn’t do anything that was textbook problem child material.

You tried your hardest in school, you never asked for much, you cleaned almost everyone’s mess at home, and after a while that became your routine. Never be seen, never be heard and never get any credit for everything you do. Meanwhile your siblings, little miss perfect and the star academic got everything you wanted. Your parents attention, their approval, and their constant reassurance.

By the time you were in high school, you were emotionally independent. A stranger to your own family pretty much. You went to an art school along with your siblings. Even as the oldest, you quickly fell into their shadows. Your sister a musical protégé on the violin, your parents paid for the best lessons, and without a doubt she’ll probably attend some ivy league. Your brother was in the advanced academics program, with yale and harvard already offering him scholarships in his sophomore year. Then there was you. You were in the art program, and while your teacher swears that all the top art schools have you on their radar. You still felt insignificant.

You worked a weekend job at the local coffee shop, latte love , it wasn’t everything but it helped pay for art supplies for you to build your portfolio. Their you met Julie Molina and Flynn Davis. Two girls who were your age, they attended the music program at your art school. You recognized them, Julie had been like the sun at the school. In the hallways always smiling and then her mom died, the sun went away hidden behind clouds. While Flynn was unapologetically herself and didn’t backdown from telling people how things were, she was fearless. They were also probably the first two people who knew your siblings and were able to separate you from them.

Then later on in the year the three of you met Luke, Alex and Reggie. Latte Love was hosting its monthly open mic night. It was almost a year after Julie’s mom died, so in an attempt to coax her back into music, Flynn brought her around. You offered free hot chocolate on the house as a bribe if she wanted to come. After an hour of mainly middle schoolers trying to face stage fright, soccer parents who desperately tried to hold onto their high school garage band phase and any other mediocre act who gave it their all in effort. Sunset Curve preformed.

That night honestly sent all six of your lives’ into a full spiral but in the best way. A month after you had met sunset curve, they formed a band with Julie and became, Julie and the Phantoms. Flynn becoming the band manager and you being the artist for ticket designs, posters and anything else. It helped distract you from everything going on in your life and with your friends you didn’t feel left out or the black sheep. You were you and they loved you for all of it.

But you could only be happy for so long. Your family always managed to make you feel horrible about yourself, this week had felt like the worst its ever been. Your sister being recruited for a summer symphony in Australia, your brother would be off at a stem camp and your summer plans were just to work, make art and hang with your friends. Your family wasted no time in telling you that you were wasting your time, or that it was just some silly childish thing. They didn’t understand how big Julie and the Phantoms were becoming. The latest gig being opening for panic at the disco at the Orpheum.

You couldn’t take it anymore, which is how you ended up walking to Julie’s house right in the beginning of a thunderstorm. When you finally made it to Julie’s front stoop you were drenched head to toe. Julie being the one to pull you in the front door. In her oversized smiley face sweatshirt and baggy sweats. The movie night dress code.

“Did you walk here?” She exclaims looking at the outdoor storm and turning back to her best friend. Your eyes red from crying and cheeks raw from wiping your tears rapidly. She’d been expecting you for weekly movie night, especially since her dad and brother had been away for a baseball game for the weekend. Just not in this state.

“More like swam.” You replied with a dry laugh. Trying to desperately hold yourself together. Knowing your friends were all in the living room, you didn’t want to burden them with your breakdown.

“Hey was that the chinese food! Y/n? Whats wrong bean?” Flynn stated her mood changing halfway through the sentence noticing the state of their best friend. Who looked like she’d just had the world’s worst day. You smiled fondly at the nice name she’d given you, which was a coffee pun.

“Family shit. Like always.” You said looking down at the floor and the puddle that you were slowly dripping onto the Molina residence’s welcome mat. Both girls smiled sympathetically, they had their fair share of stories of how bad things could get at the L/n household.

“Come on! It’s movie night, you’re getting into cozy clothes and having junk food with your friends.” Julie said taking your hand and leading you upstairs to her room. Julie handed you spare clothes due to you being completely soaked. Then a towel to dry yourself off.

“Here, once you’re ready to come downstairs, we can put your stuff into the dryer.” Julie said smiling at her friend before leaving to give her privacy. Taking the towel she gave you and trying to dry your hair. Then changing into the cozy clothes she gave you. Your phone blowing up from texts from your family. Your parents wanting to know where you were. Not caring how hurt you were. Your siblings saying half assed apologies they didn’t mean. They’d done this before and they’d do it again.

Ignoring the messages, you walked back downstairs. The comforting smell of chinese food wafting at you. Julie, Alex and Flynn stood at the table. Meanwhile Luke and Reggie were were at the local 7/11 getting slushies.

“Did anyone order a hot mess?” You said jokingly getting their attention. Alex standing up and instantly hugging you as if he’d never see you again. Hugging him back. Alex’s hugs always felt as if it was a cloud.

The Molina residence house phone then rang, the caller id labeling your house. “We can just let it go to message.” Julie said turning back from the phone to you. You shook your head, “I’m so over this bullshit.” Walking over to the phone you picked it up.

“Hello ever so loving parental unit.” You said with sarcasm dripping off every word. “Pop off!” Flynn said as she bit into a dumpling. You bit back a smile. “Where are you? You can’t run out because you’re upset.” You heard your mom say. You rolled your eye.

“Where i am every friday night. I told you in advance i had plans so when you take your attention span off miss perfect and genius boy remember you have a third fucking child. Goodnight!” You said promptly and then hung up placing the phone back on back on its home base. “Beyoncé would approve.” Flynn said clapping for dramatic effect.

“How much trouble are you going to be in for that?” Alex said passing your usual that Julie knew to order for you, you shrugged. “Bold of you to assume they’ll remember to ground me.”

“Wow what a rag tag group of mommy and daddy issues we are.” Reggie announced as he placed the tray of slushies down on the counter. “Excuse you!” Julie exclaimed as she took a slip of her blueberry slushie. “She’s dead, that’s an issue.” Flynn said as she grabbed her green apple one. You choked on your food for a second, “Out of pocket!”

“She’s right babe.” Luke said hugging her from behind. “You have mommy issues too.” Julie said turning around slightly. “Only the hottest people have both mommy and daddy issues!” Alex exclaimed holding a hand of for you and Reggie to high five.

“My back hurts from having a healthy parental relationship and carrying that standard.” Flynn said cracking open her fortune cookie. You laughed looking around at your dysfunctional friend group.

“We are all going to hell for these jokes alone.” You said taking a sip of your slushie. Reggie scoffed, “We’re just warming up.”

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagine #reggie peters #reggie peters imagine #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson #julie molina #julie molina imagine #flynn jatp #flynn nolastname #alex mercer #alex mercer imagine

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cursed-or-not · 3 years

Text

Suptober Day 31: Carry On

It comes with a whimper instead of a bang.

It’s not so much in how they save the world as it is in how they save themselves. If Dean’s honest, he barely remembers how the final battle went down. It was all a blur of lights, of sounds, of colors, and then they were free.

Looking back, Dean thinks maybe that was the easy part. Now that freedom’s in the cards, it’s figuring out what to do with it that’s the hard part.

Nothing changes right away. Dean always thought that after that final battle, one day he’d just wake up different, but he’s beginning to learn that the world doesn’t work like that, and he sure as hell doesn’t either. Some things, he’ll always carry with him.

They’ve spent three months free when Jack finally asks him about it.

“Why do you still want to hunt?”

The question is abrupt and well-meaning and the last thing that Dean wants to answer. He doesn’t know: doesn’t know why he was born into this, why it’s coursing through his blood. Why he can’t leave it behind.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asks instead of answering. He wishes Sam would walk in.

Jack tilts his head.

“I’m not sure what you want me to specify,” Jack responds earnestly.

In spite of it, Dean catches himself smiling. Jack is kind and curious, and he’s his kid.

“Yeah, me neither. I just don’t have a good answer for you.”

“Oh,” Jack nods. “That’s okay.”

Dean takes a moment to respond. He doesn’t know why it feels like his throat is filling with cotton or why his eyes are stinging, but his hand moves to rest on Jack’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Dean nods back. “Yeah. Thanks, kid.”

…

It takes another two months before Sam asks.

“You ever think about quitting? Like, for real?”

He says it around a smoothie full of something green that Dean will never be able to make himself drink, and Dean wonders how he can sound so casual.

“Do I think about it? Sure,” Dean responds evenly. Dismissively.

“Okay.” Sam blinks. “So do you… think you’d ever do it?”

Dean responds automatically, “Nope.”

Sam looks taken aback, but Dean thinks that he shouldn’t. Out of anyone, Dean thinks Sam should understand.

“No?” Sam presses.

Dean shrugs, but he knows Sam sees through it.

“I mean, guys like me aren’t really meant to leave the life, you know?” Dean responds.

“Guys like us,” Sam corrects, not looking at Dean. “You mean guys like us.”

Dean shakes his head. “It’s not like that, Sam. If you want out, you know I support that— hell, I’ll be the first one to tell you to do it!”

“Dean, stop!” Sam holds up a hand. “I know. I’m not accusing you of—dragging me down, or whatever you think this is. I just… I think that you’re not even giving yourself a chance.”

Dean moves his head in a messy and slight impression of a nod. He can’t do this.

“I don’t think I get any more chances,” Dean says quietly.

He knows Sam’s going to argue, knows that it’s probably not even true, but all he can think about is this blood on his hands and the way that his shoulders still ache from things he no longer has to carry.

“Dean, that’s—I’m not even gonna try to address all of the implications of that. Just,” Sam takes a deep breath, “I think there are things you haven’t even considered that might be worth thinking about.”

Dean huffs a laugh.

“Yeah? Like what?”

Sam doesn’t answer, just sighs in defeat, but Dean doesn’t miss the way that his own eyes drift towards the room he knows Cas is sleeping in.

…

He hasn’t hunted in weeks, and Dean is spiralling.

He’s trying to live without this, trying to make decisions as a human choosing rather than hamster running, but he thinks maybe he wasn’t cut out for this, for freedom.

Maybe humans aren’t as different from angels as he thought.

There have always been orders to follow, whether divine or from his father, and Dean doesn’t know what to do without them.

He needs a hunt, needs the high of it, needs to save someone. He needs to be a hunter.

Dean has his phone in his hand, ready to look for the next case when the text comes through.

Have you seen the movie The Road to El Dorado?

Dean almost laughs out loud. His best guess is that Cas is only asking for Jack’s sake, but Dean can’t say it didn’t catch him off guard.

kids movie, right? Never seen it

Dean has barely hit send when Cas’s caller ID flashes on his phone screen.

He shakes his head, but he can’t help but smile.

“What do you want?” Dean asks into the phone. His voice is good-natured.

“I think it’s a good movie,” Cas responds, and Dean almost forgets what movie they’re talking about in the first place.

“Okay?” Dean answers, waiting for the point. “Is this you asking me to watch a movie with you?

“No,” Cas says, and Dean can hear the excitement in his voice even over the phone. “This is me asking you to go on an adventure with me.”

…

Dean has been on so many roadtrips in his life that he’s shocked they don’t all blend together.

None of the past ones, though, can even compete with this one.

Dean didn’t really believe in it in the beginning; Cas and Jack wanted the kind of adventure that you only saw in animated movies instead of the kind that ends in tragedy. Dean knew even as he said yes that it wasn’t real, this idea of chasing a horizon that glows instead of bleeds, but he almost dared to hope that they’d be right.

Now, they’re in the car, and it feels like they’ve been here a million times, only they haven’t because this time they’re headed towards the coastline instead of a monster. Dean’s driving, so Sam is sitting shotgun while Jack and Cas sit together in the back. Dean can’t explain exactly what he’s feeling as they drive into the setting skyline, but he thinks he likes it.

He thinks maybe bloodlust can be filled by wanderlust instead, maybe the ache in his chest is just the part of him that’s meant for softer, better things.

Maybe El Dorado isn’t real, but the journey there is.

…

The journey is almost over, now.

Soon, they will pack up and turn back, and Dean will try to piece himself together and figure out who he is without this story that has filled him for so long.

He thinks maybe it’s not just the roadtrip that he can feel coming to a close.

His fingers still ache to pull a trigger some days. He has scars that still smart, phantom aches from wounds healed long ago. He has a lifetime behind him and within him, and he still isn’t sure what to do with that.

For now, though, the sun is streaming into his room through the crack between curtains in the motel, and Dean wants to feel it before it sets.

Cas is already outside when Dean walks out.

Dean shakes his head, face breaking into a smile.

Cas is sitting crosslegged in the middle of the motel parking lot, and his face is turned to the sky.

It’s so achingly innocent, so Cas, that Dean almost has to turn around and walk back inside at the pang in his chest.

He thinks a lifetime ago, he would have. Back then, he would’ve seen Cas there, sitting alone, and he wouldn’t have known what to do. He would have run away.

Now, though, he thinks he’s too tired. Maybe it’s because he’s grown in courage or maybe just in years, but he keeps walking.

He doesn’t stop until he lowers himself down next to Cas, and Dean thinks the decision was worth it just to see the brilliant smile that splits his face.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas greets.

“Hey, Cas.”

Cas gestures (rather unnecessarily) at the sky, which has just begun to turn.

“The sunset tonight is one of the best I’ve seen,” Cas says softly.

“Yeah,” Dean nods. “It’s not bad.”

Cas breathes in the air around him like he might be able to pull the colors inside him.

“How are you, Dean?” he asks suddenly.

Dean tries not to balk at the question.

“You know me,” Dean dismisses. “I’m always good.”

“I do know you,” Cas agrees. “That’s exactly how I know that you are not ‘always good.’”

Dean shrugs. “Maybe not always. But now? Yeah. I’m good.”

Cas hums a contented noise, but he doesn’t stop.

“And later?”

Dean looks at him in confusion.

“How d’you expect me to know how I’m gonna feel later?”

Cas shakes his head.

“That’s not what I meant,” Cas says. “I meant in general. The future.”

“That’s a pretty heavy question for a Saturday night, Cas,” Dean responds.

“Well?” Cas shoots back, still waiting on the response.

Dean doesn’t know.

He’s not actually trying to be difficult, but the future isn’t something he’s ever had to think about before.

“I’m… better,” Dean answers carefully. That’s the only answer he really has. At least it’s honest.

“But still not good,” Cas finishes.

Dean objects, “Hey, I didn’t say that. I’m not suffering or anything.”

“Good,” Cas agrees. “That’s good.”

Without meaning to, Dean’s hand bumps Cas’s, and for a fraction of a second, Dean almost panics.

Dean is tired of pretending.

He gave up months ago trying to pretend that there wasn’t anything he wanted from Cas, but he can’t imagine what Cas’s thoughts on the matter are.

Cas must have thought it was on purpose, and Dean doesn’t think he can ask this of Cas, but Cas barely gives Dean the chance to doubt himself before he takes Dean’s hand in his.

He doesn’t even look at Dean as he does it, just entertwines their fingers like they belong like this.

Dean thinks that maybe they do.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean asks, breaking the silence between them.

“Hmmm?”

Dean sighs.

“Do you think I should stop hunting?”

At that, Cas turns to look Dean in the eyes.

“I think…” Dean can see the care that Cas is taking in choosing his words, “I think that you have a lot to consider.”

It’s a non-answer, but Dean nods anyways. He thinks it’s probably for the best that no one will tell him what to do. He thinks he might have to figure this out himself, but that doesn’t mean it will be alone.

The sunset spreads out before them.

Dean shifts his position, taking care not to displace Cas’s hand.

“I guess the part that’s messing me up is just—what now?” Dean asks, and uncertainty colors his voice. Dean wishes Cas couldn’t hear how afraid he is.

Cas smiles a gentle reassurance, hand still in Dean’s and eyes still on the horizon.

“Now,” Cas says softly, “we carry on.”

Dean brings their hands to eye level, brushing his lips to Cas’s fingers. He nods.

Carry on.

Thank you to everyone who has shared or supported during Suptober! This has been a wild ride, and I may not have posted every day (you know, life), but I sure wrote more than I would have otherwise, so thanks to everyone involved <33 Obviously, huge shoutout to @winchester-reload for sparking so much creativity and fandom solidarity

If anyone is interested, here’s my masterpost of my suptober fics

#suptober20 #spn fanfic #spn s15 #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #Supernatural #my suptober stuff #yeah I wrote this 2am after Halloween what about it #mine

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gods-little-meow-meow · 3 years

Text

magnus archives au cause i’m bored

disclaimer; if you don’t know magnus archives probably just check the wiki or something. or just go listen to it. its good. and gay

tubbo is corruption and is juts constant followed by as fuckin massive swarm of bees at all time. they can and will sting you if you piss off tubbo. tubbo is still platonically married to ranboo and it’s ligit for tax benefits this time. had to go save tommy from the lonely at some point but that fine

wilbur is desolation and fucikinh burns himself out and died which brings us to ghostbur

ghostbur is like the Peter lukas of this universe. dream has a hand in wilburs death cause he needed ghostbur to be like Peter lukas and take tommy, also to make tommy s a d. he found tommy when tommy was stuck there but unlike tommy he never got out and when alivebur was eventually brought back to life ghostbur kinda juts faded away.

tommy’s the only fuckin human here and hates it. he was yeeted into the lonely at some point, then was rescued by tubbo. tubbo saved tommy cause ghostbur felt bad about tommy being alone and gave tubbo a compass to find him

phil is the end (duh) he has like phantom wings that kinda appear and disappear when he wants

techno is slaughter or hunt i can’t really decide but id go more towards slaughter. he started hearing voices after Wilbur died (caused by dream) and kinda went on a slaughter rampage and disappeared for ages. HE WAS FOUND AFTER TOMMY GOT BACK, WOOOO

ranboo is a tricky one. i would have put him in stranger but i recon he’s more of spiral (madness, hallucinations, your mind lying to you) yeah that sounds like ranboo. he is also very tall and has the big scary hands and was made avatar of spiral by dream

dream web, but dream XD is eye. also remember that body switching immortal thing that was never really explained, yeah that’s what dream uses to revive wilbur. he asks dream XD to revive wilbur and watch over tommy, tubbo and ranboo. he also is the one who yeeted tommy into the lonely. manipulation and knowing all, yeee that’s dream.

the disks are basically just tapes of tommy’s statement that dream used to manipulate tommy.

Michael is some dog that got stuck in the lonely that ranboo and tubbo just, stole.

they're still platonically married and just cause crimes together with tommy.

ranboo is the only avatar who dose anything and would have caused the apocalypse multiple times but tubbo fucked up his plan mainly on accident and ranboo kinda just gives up.

tommy used to work in the archives with tommy and tubbo under dream XD, then dream XD (under the command of dream) sacrificed ranboo to the spiral (think gertrude and micheal) and tubbo became a corruption avatar. then tommy slowly felt himself drifting away, his wilbur died (caused by dream) and phil and techno slipped into grief. dream cut out all human contact and tommy slipped into the lonely. he was eventually rescued by tubbo and ranboo.

tubbo was suposed to be jon and cause the eyepocolypse but then he liked the lonely better got corrupted.

techno nearly killed tubbo during his rampage thing and that’s what prompted him to go leave. this didn’t help Tommy’s mental health one, bit.

after Wilbur’s death phil spent all of his time trying to bring him back and in his grief forgot how to be a father.

wilbur was revived and the first thing he did was check on tommy cause he still remembered being ghostbur and needed to make sure tommy was ok

tommy lived with techno and phil after he was rescued from the lonely. mainly cause phil and techno felt so bad for abandoning him and also cause he had no where else to stay

#Magnus Archives #Dream smp #ranboo #tubbo #tommyinnit #technoblade #Philza #Wilbur #Dream #Dream XD #Ghostbur #sbi #bench trio #magnus archives x dream smp #i might draw this later #long post

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