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#but with us owning sheep it DOES make me nervous
greatooglymooglyyy · 26 days
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The Last Ride Chapter 8 (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)
summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.
requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper
contains: verbal arguments, physical altercation, kissing, lots of emotions and insecurity, 3.9k words
a/n: sigh. i'm warning you... be nice to me or chapter nine gets it!! 🔪
series masterlist
“Whoa, girl.” I say gently as I tighten my thighs around Cinnamon’s body and tug gently on her reins. She comes to a stop with no issue and I rub her neck affectionately.
One of the trainers jogs up to her side and puts a cautious hand on her body to which she tenses up but doesn’t react negatively. We’ve been working on getting her more comfortable with other handlers and my girl has been making so much progress. But, it’s a slow process and I know she still gets nervous with faces she doesn’t trust.
I slide out of her saddle so the boy can take my place and step out of her line of vision. Almost immediately, Cinnamon starts to panic and my heart aches. I know I’m supposed to let them build the bond on their own but I can’t stop myself from comforting her. 
“This is my friend Max, Cinnamon.” I coo as I step back in front of her and nuzzle her nose. “He’s just going to take a ride, okay?” 
From across the field, I catch Chris throwing me a disapproving glare but he doesn’t say a word. Unsurprising since he hasn’t uttered more than a few my way for the last two weeks. But annoying nevertheless.
Ignoring him, I walk along beside them until I’m sure she doesn’t need me anymore and then step aside and watch them ride. 
It feels nice to see her progress in action and my lips pull up in a small smile at the thought of her beating her monster allegations. If Cinnamon can fix her reputation, there’s hope for me yet. A tap on my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts and I look back to see one of the younger stableboys.
“Chris said to tell you to help Mr. Buck shear the sheep.” He chirps, nervously biting his nails while he talks as if he expects me to bite his head off.
Irritation does rise in my chest, but not at the poor stable boy. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” 
The boy gives me a relieved smile but it morphs into a look of panic when he sees me marching toward Chris instead of the truck. I ignore his calls behind me, locking my focus on the pigheaded brunette in my scope. 
“So we’ve moved past you mumbling orders at me and now you’re just sending messenger boys instead?” 
He looks up slowly from where he’s crouched down fixing the enclosure fence and tosses me an uninterested glance. “Do you need somethin’ or you just bored again?”
I roll my eyes at the jab and continue on, determined to get my rant out. “How long are you going to ignore me, Chris? This is getting beyond childish.”
Standing with a sigh and taking a look around, he gestures at all the workers watching us. “Nothing round here’s childish except this scene you’re putting on. Come on.”
He leads the way to the stables, moving so quickly I basically have to run to keep up. As soon as we’re inside, he slams the door shut and glares at me. I glare back, refusing to back down and give him a ‘go ahead’ gesture.
“I’m not ignoring you.” He says calmly, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. “I have nothing to say to you.”
My eyebrows knit together as I step back and study his face, wondering if he’s bluffing or not. “Really? Because you had a lot of words for me at the fair. Now it’s radio silence and you didn’t even let me explain-”
“I don’t need you to explain. You don’t owe me a thing. And neither do I. There is nothin’ else to say because there’s nothin’ between us anymore.” 
“So that’s it? After all that? We just go back to being strangers?” The disbelief in my voice is heavy but I feel a wall between us forming higher and higher.
There's a split second of hesitation but Chris shrugs, averting his eyes. “I dunno, Scotch. Maybe we always were.”  
Wow. I nod quickly and turn away from him to compose myself, trying not to allow any hurt to show on my face. Behind me, I hear him exit quietly and it settles in that maybe he’s right. It’s not like I belong here anyway. This was always a temporary game. I just can’t believe it felt so real.
***********************
Like most Saturdays here, I wake up to the early morning sun beaming through my window and the smell of breakfast cooking. It’s crazy how different waking up here feels compared to when I first got here. 
I used to spend my days here counting down until I could leave this humid ass state and hardly ever think about it again. But now? Lying here and listening to the calm quiet sounds of the country with my aunt’s quiet singing as the only disturbance? Somehow the idea of leaving makes me feel sick. 
But it doesn’t matter. I try to remind myself that this life isn’t mine- no matter how safe it feels. And as for my Birdie, it’s not like I can never visit again. Right?
I shake it off and get up to get ready, taking a quick shower before heading into the kitchen. As soon as she sees me, my aunt grows a huge suspicious smile on her face and I raise my eyebrow. “Good morning?”
“Good morning, bunny! How’d you sleep? I made your favorite. Take a seat. Honestly, honey, I’ve been up since before the roosters in this kitchen-” She rambles on and on as I slide into my seat, continuing to stare at her with a bewildered expression.
I look around for my uncle, finally noticing he’s nowhere to be seen. But before I can ask, Birdie sits across from me and takes my hand. “Your uncle has a surprise for you, darlin’. A damn good one.”
As if on cue, I hear my uncle’s truck pull into the driveway, always recognizable by the loud rumbling and occasional backfiring. My aunt squeals in excitement and scrambles over to the door so I follow behind her, laughing lightly.
“This better not be another Duck Dynasty merch find. I told you I’ve never even seen that show-” I cut myself off as the door swings open and I lock eyes with my dad.
It feels for a second like time freezes as I take him in. His weary smile. The bags under his eyes from what must have been months of little sleep. His outfit being as casual as I’ve ever seen him; not a tie or a designer in sight. 
“Hi, honey.” He says softly, his voice taking on the soothing tone of my childhood. The one he’d use when I was sick or hurt. When I needed him. And just like that it’s like a dam breaking as my anger crumbles and I throw myself into his arms.
“Dad.” is the only thing I manage to say into his chest as he rocks us back and forth, holding the back of my head like he did when I was young. But he seems to understand anyway, pulling back and smiling at me.
“I missed you too, kiddo.”
My uncle, the big softie, sniffles and we both cut our eyes to him. “ See now, that right there is just plumb beautiful.” He wails, leaning into Birdie who rolls her eyes in good humor. I laugh at his dramatics until someone clearing their throat grabs my attention and I look out to the porch. 
“Can we get a little love next?” 
Jace stands with a smug look on his face and his arms wide, my other two ‘best friends’ Brielle and Lydia standing awkwardly behind him. My eyes widen as I look between my dad and the boy I thought was the love of my life. What. The. Fuck.
“Surprise!” My dad says with genuine enthusiasm. “You’ve been doing so well, I thought you deserved to see your crew. How excited are you?”
I swallow hard, tearing my eyes away from Jace before I pass out. “Yeah, Dad. Ecstatic.”
***********************
The thing about Jace is he’s never known how to sit in silence. He’s spent our entire lives being the one who fills it while I hang on to every single word. It used to be one of my favorite things about him. But now as we walk quietly past the lake, his body fidgeting with discomfort at the silence, I’m not so sure.
Sighing, I take pity on him and finally speak. “So...you said you wanted to talk?” 
“I do.” The relief in his voice is palpable and he stops me from walking with a hand on my arm before he continues. “Since you’ve been gone, I’ve done so much thinking about that night. And I’ve realized I really fucked up. Worse than that time I stole my dad’s Porsche. And you remember how bad that was.” He laughs but I don’t join, staring at him and waiting for the point.
He clears his throat. “Anyway, I should have never done drugs that night. And I shouldn’t have let the girls leave you. That was wrong. And it won’t happen again.”
My eyes narrow at his roundabout accountability but I let it go, knowing it's as close to an apology as I will ever get. “You’ve said that before.”
“But I mean it now. I flushed all my blow after that night. It was really messing with my sinuses anyway.” He sees the look on my face and quickly adds, “But obviously, it was mostly for you.”
I sigh and shake my head. “It’s fine, Jace. I’m not holding grudges anymore. We’re cool.”
And I’m surprised at how much I mean it. After all the work I’ve done this summer, holding on to all this anger has been the most exhausting part of it.
Jace brings a hand up to my face and it takes a conscious effort not to flinch away from him. “I don’t want us to just be cool. I want you to know how much I care about you.”
I give him a stern look and pull away. “We can’t start this again. I don’t want to be anyone’s secret.”
“Who said anything about a secret? I’m done with that. I mean, it’s not like everyone didn’t know we were fucking anyway.”
“Jace.”
“Sorry. I just mean, we might as well make it official. Everyone knows it was always going to be me and you.”
I try to keep my heart still at his words, but despite everything he’s done, there’s still a weak spot. When I study his face, I see our entire history. All the years I spent longing for him to touch me, all the nights I spent trying to figure him out once he did. My past and his are so interlocked, I can’t untangle them. The problem is I don’t know if I want our futures to be as well.
Plus, there’s Chris to think about...or is there? His words from the stable play in my head on repeat. According to him, there is no us for me to think about. If that’s really how he feels about me, then it’s time I try to get over it.
Realizing how long I’ve been zoned out of the conversation, I refocus on Jace, bringing a hand up to his perfectly tousled hair. “Okay. Let’s try.”
He grins before pressing his lips to mine and I lean into it, wrapping my arms around his neck. It’s a familiar feeling, this boy pressed close against me. Once I’d even have described it as home. But as he deepens the kiss so close to where a boy once taught me to fish, the only thing echoing in my head is “Well. at least this one wants me.”
***********************
“Bunny, would you stop fussin’? It looks fine.” My aunt Birdie explains. She’s been watching me string lights up for the past fifteen minutes and no matter what, according to her it looks ‘fine’.
Apparently, everyone had been waiting eagerly for my dad’s return because it seems like the entire town is here tonight for his ‘welcome home’ party. People are piling in left and right, quicker than we can even finish with the prep.
One thing about me is, if I’m going to throw a party it’s going to be one people don’t stop talking about. And that begins with something as simple as the setup. I wish I had known about it sooner.
“I just think we need a few more over there,” I reply, motioning over to a fence that’s left completely blank.
She thinks for a moment, knowing it’s useless to argue with me. “There might be a few more lights in the shed, should be with all the Christmas stuff.”
I smile, immediately turning to head over to the shed that resides on the side of the house. The walk is short, but by the time I make it there, I'm met with a familiar figure on the other side.
His gaze sends chills down my spine, for whatever reason I haven't gotten used to the mean stares. Maybe it’s because I know what his softness looks like, and now it’s gone.
I go to open the wooden shed door before looking at Chris once more. “What’s your problem, Chris?”
He chuckles under his breath as if my reaction was completely unwarranted. If this was the first time he sent his nasty looks at me, maybe it would be unwarranted, but now I’m sick of his shit. 
“Just wondering what’s got you all happy.” He replies, leaning against the side fence with his hands crossed with one another.
No matter what, he always seems to believe he has the upper ground. His body language makes that more than apparent.
“I can’t just like parties?” I reply, more sheepishly than I meant to lead on. It’s stupid that I'm still defending myself against him, especially when I know a few weeks ago he liked me for all of me, now it’s as if I'm entertainment for him.
“So Prince Charming didn’t put that smile on your face? I heard he graced our poor humble digs.” He remarks with a tone dipping of sarcasm, simply earning a glare from me as I head into the shed.
When I step back out, he’s gone and it feels like the party has doubled. Looking around the yard at the crowds of people gathered, I can’t believe my aunt and uncle managed to keep this all a secret.
After finishing my final touches, I spot my dad and decide to stand with him and welcome guests for a bit, relishing how good it feels to spend time with him again.
He can’t walk more than a couple of feet without being stopped by a classmate or an old teacher so I fall back and let him enjoy catching up. It feels good to see him so relaxed here, blending in like he never left. I almost swear I catch his accent creeping back in before I walk away.  
I’m surprised with how many people I recognize as well, waving to Abby and a few of Chris’ friends. Hank hugs me before spotting my dad and hustling over to him. I should have guessed they were friends.
Looking around for my city friends, I spot Brielle laughing in a corner with Jason and my eyebrows shoot up to the sky. Okay so new type for her then. I make a mental note to pry later. Continuing my search, I spot Lydia and Jace looking pretty bored and honestly a little scared so I make my way over.
But on my way, I hear my name being called from a high-pitched familiar voice and spin around. Evie runs as quick as her little feet can take her and wraps a hug around my legs. Laughing, I squat down and give her a proper hug, pushing her wild bangs out of her face. “Hi, sweetie.”
“I haven’t seen you in this long!” She says with adorably wide eyes, stretching her arms out in a big gesture and making my heart sink.
“I know. We’ve been busy, huh? I heard you learned to write your whole name.” I say, recalling the brag Chris shared over one of the last lunches we spent together.
She grins and nods excitedly. “I can! Do you have paper?”
A hand lands on her shoulder and we both look up to see Chris hovering above us. “I think she’s good, Evie.” He gives me a brief smile but his eyes are still cold and emotionless so I stand wordlessly. 
“But-” She starts to complain but catches sight of Birdie at the chocolate fountain and her jaw drops. Before either of us can say another word, she takes off again in my aunt’s direction.
Chris kisses his teeth but we both can’t help but laugh. “Thank god these are good people, or I’d have to put her ass on a leash.” He says but he’s watching her hug Birdie with his usual loving gaze.
He notices me staring and raises an eyebrow, shooting me his cautious smile. “What’re you gawking at?” 
“Honestly?” I ask, looking over his outfit with exaggerated horror. “Those damn jeans of yours. Put them out of their misery, I’m begging you.”
He chuckles, his eyes twinkling with humor. “Oh, so we’re back to the clothing roasts, huh?”
“See, I personally never left. It haunts me.”
“Yeah, okay, Ms. Socks and Sandals.” He says looking down at my feet pointedly.
I laugh and push his shoulder. “Shut up. My boots didn’t go with this fit. I’m limited here.”
“We’ll have to get you some more.” He says almost on a reflex before he seems to realize and flinches. But his reply is cut off when Jace swings an arm around my neck. 
Immediately, it’s like a cloud comes over Chris’ face, hurt warping his features before he puts up a mask. At the same time, I freeze but do my best to recover. “Oh..uh..Hey Jace.”
He smiles at me and leans in, pressing a long kiss to my lips to my absolute horror, before turning to Chris and extending his hand. “What’s up, man? You must be the caterer. The food was great.”
Oh god. Chris’ eyes narrow but he slowly shakes Jace’s hand anyway without a word so I step in. “Actually, he works with my uncle. He’s been sort of a mentor this summer.”
Chris laughs humorlessly but if Jace catches on he doesn’t acknowledge it. “Oh, great. The food actually really sucks. Greasy as hell.” He laughs, sounding even more arrogant than normal.
I lock eyes with Chris, both of us knowing full well that Birdie spent the entire day cooking. He nods, gesturing coolly between the two of us. “I gotta say. You two? Perfect for each other.”
He turns and walks away as Jace throws an unsuspecting “thank you” at his back. But I stay frozen against my boyfriend’s side knowing it was anything but a compliment.
***********************
A couple of hours later, the party is still in full swing. People are doing line dances, tripping over their own feet due to the well-stocked bar. Someone has started a fire in the pit and the kids are enjoying their s’more while their parents catch up.
I lean against my chair, taking in the community, as Lydia whines to the left of me about being cold. Jace takes off his coat and throws it over her and I frown for a second before my dad catches my eye by the snack table.
“Do you guys want anything?” I ask as I stand, needing more than anything to speak to someone who might get how I’m feeling. They shake their heads so I mumble that I’ll be right back.
When I get to my dad’s side, he smiles warmly before grabbing a couple of my favorite pinrolls and handing them to me. Maybe he knows me better than I think. I return the smile and take the plate, whispering my thanks.
As he’s about to walk away, I stop him and he looks back in confusion. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” He says, crossing his arms and leaning in to hear me better.
“How did you get this place out of your system when you left? How’d you move on?” As I ask, I glance around the ranch before looking up at the sky, mesmerized by the glow of the stars I’d never be able to see in the city.
His eyes soften as understanding floods his features. “What makes you think I was ever able to do that?”
I blink slowly at him, not understanding. “The city. You made a whole life there. We never come here to visit.”
“Because it’s hard.” He explains, looking past me to where his old friends laugh and talk amongst themselves. “You can’t hide here. Not when they know everything about you. But, this place is in my blood, in my heart. That’s the real reason I wanted you to come here. I was hoping it would somehow creep into yours.”
The smile that crosses his face is sad but I return it with a nod before turning and making my way back to my table. But to my surprise, Jace isn’t there. Lydia has fallen asleep with his jacket draped over her so I don’t bother waking her.
Wandering around to find him, I move closer to the house until I hear his voice coming from the side of it. Plastering a smile on my face, I walk toward it until his words make me halt.
“-I know she must have been useless with all that bullshit.” 
My face scrunches up but I stay hidden when I realize the person he’s talking to must be Chris, recognizing his heavy sigh before his reply. 
“I wouldn’t call her useless in no kinda way. But sure, man.” 
I peer around the corner and get a glimpse of Chris’ face, his telltale flush of irritation fixed to his features. I debate coming around the corner since I don’t want to be caught snooping but something tells me to stay put.
“Either way. Thanks for looking out for my girl.”
I don’t miss the emphasis Jace puts on the 'my' and roll my eyes at the sudden possessiveness. Especially when a few months ago, I couldn’t even touch him in public. 
“Uh-huh. Just...” Chris seems to hesitate, bringing a hand to the back of his neck and sighing. “Just deserve her, alright?”
My heart thuds against my chest but I don’t have long to process before Jace laughs riotously like that’s the best joke he’s ever heard. He places a hand on Chris’ shoulder and leans in.
“Come on, man. Have you met her? I’ve been on planes with less baggage than that bitch. It’s not like I’m going to marry her.” Jace is still laughing as he says it, his tone so matter-of-fact that I almost don’t realize what he just said.
That is until I see the expression on Chris’ face, the blankest I’ve ever seen him look. “Fuck.” He mutters as if being extremely inconvenienced before he takes a step back and throws a punch so quick I can’t even tell where it lands.
The party goes silent in an instant, the only noise coming from Jace’s body crumbling to the ground. 
Oh. Shit.
🏷️/ @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos @teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @fratbrochrisgf @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo @clemlament @maryx2xx @fwskullz @luv4kozume @breeloveschris @xoxo4chrisss @ribread03 @sturnrc @h3arts4harry @chrissystur @pepsiboyy @wcnderwqll @watercolorskyy @sturnsmia @fake-sturniolos
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exhaustedcatte · 9 months
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Are we doing this here? (yes)
Remus ran his sweaty palms over his suit, which did nothing to dry them off given that the material was very silky.
“My god, Lily, you should’ve asked someone else to sub in,” Remus muttered balefully.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, accent thick – it only ever came out when she was nervous. “You made bigger numbers than Susan when you filled in for her last time.”
“I wish I was knee deep in editing instead,” he said, just to keep the banter going.
Remus wasn’t mad about Lily asking him to fill in for her co-worker, mainly because the carpet they were on was for a Period Era film whose book had him crying for days. No, he was just very out of depth being in front of a camera and not a screen. Besides, this must be what people call Nepotism. Remus was simply an editor, who cuts clips out and makes a nice video out of it. Lily, who’d pulled strings to get Snarky little Remus Lupin out here, did so with the intention of getting him to do some networking.
“No, you don’t, not when Black will be here,” she replied knowingly.
She knew too much, honestly. Lily simply barked a laugh when he told her that.
He tried to settle his nerves by doing a headcount of the reporters on the carpet. He thought he might reach Nirvana once he’d counted upto the 90 mark, but his cameraman starts clicking the little button with such force, Remus is startled out of the ���counting sheep to sleep’ method he was using.
“Oh my god,” Lily applied her lipstick hastily. “Remus! Remus that’s Dame Minerva McGonagall.”
He bit his lip, trying to contain his own excitement. “Who gets her?”
They were both under the same network, it would make no sense for both of them to interview her with similar questions.
“Do you… do you want it?” Lily asked.
Remus saw the generosity in her offering her role model to him. “Of course not, Lils. I was only pulling your leg.”
She punched his arm. “I was about to replace you with Frank.”
Remus’ cameraman, Frank Longbottom, popped his head from behind the huge camera, “Oh, piss off.”
Minerva strode into their section after getting her photographs taken. Remus stepped away in awe. He’d never been so close to anyone famous, well excluding his one boyfriend – who wrote three love songs about him and then dumped him after the songs blew up. They’d been together at the cusp of his fame. Remus squashed the thought of Caradoc Dearborn, the nation’s favourite Pop Artist, according to Daily Prophet.
“Miss Minerva,” Lily smiled brightly, “you look lovely. Might I know who you’re wearing?”
“Why, you look beautiful yourself,” the woman smiled. “This was a work of Pandora Lovegood.”
“It looks stunning,” Lily reiterated sincerely. She segued into her question smoothly with, “The pantsuit must’ve been easier to wear than traditional Victorian outfits, right?”
“Oh yes,” she nodded. “Many, many layers.”
“This film is also your comeback after two years, how does it feel?”
They’re lucky they secured the entry spot on the carpet, because the other interviewers are likely to ask the same questions as these actors progress down the line.
“It’s very special. I’ve known the director, James Potter, for a few years now and working with him has been lovely because he really eased me into it,” Minerva spoke fondly of James Potter and it was all but a miracle that Lily’s knees didn’t give out judging by the dizzy expression that overtook her smile when her celebrity crush was name dropped. (Remus knew Lily as well as she knew him, so it was never a disadvantage really.)
“The trailer also broke records, have you got any anecdotes to spare about scenes that have been revealed?”
Minerva pondered for a few. “I found it very difficult to chase Sirius around set when he thought dropping seeds on my hat was a good idea. I almost had a pigeon infestation on me.”
“Did you have to run in the gown?” Lily laughed good-naturedly.
Remus also had to hold back a snort at the vivid image of the Dame running behind Sirius Black and a flock of pigeons trailing her.
“Running after him was a personal choice, it wasn’t a shot for the movie,” the actress said primly, making everyone laugh again.
“I wish the movie great success, it was lovely meeting you,” Lily bade her goodbye.
Minerva smiled once again before heading over to the next reporter.
“How was I?” Lily asked.
“Good, but a touch too nervous maybe,” Remus offered honestly.
“Okay.” She spotted Slughorn making his way over to them and straightened, “It’s go time.”
The old veteran was suited up in boring grey slacks and a grey suit jacket with a plain white shirt under. Remus wished there were less boring men’s outfits on the carpet, at least then it’d make it interesting for him to edit these things, it would provide great gossip material.
Lily breezed through the next couple interviews, trying to shuffle her questions between them to make it less monotonous for both parties.
When Narcissa Malfoy finally sashayed away, Lily slugged half of Remus’ ginger lemon tea. “This thermos is god sent, the tea is so warm.”
“I know. It was Caradoc’s last christmas present. But it’s so good, I couldn’t justify throwing away just because he was a shit ex.”
“His money anyway,” Lily winked. Her voice sounded too hoarse.
“Want me to go?” Remus asked.
Her shoulders slumped, a bit relieved. “I would appreciate that.”
Remus steadied his mind, just a few questions and that’s all there was. You can do this, you got this, it’s just a few minutes and – Holy fucking god.
Marlene McKinnon stepped out of her car in a sequinned dress, thigh high slit and tall pumps.
Remus managed to snag her first out of the sea of interviewers.
“Good evening,” he smiled. “You look gorgeous, very old Hollywood.”
Her blonde hair was pinned up, lips painted blood red, mole under her eye, black sequinned dress glimmering in the flashes of the cameras.
“Thank you so much, but I have to thank Fortescue for this.”
Her ability to understand cues was very well appreciated by Remus.
“I must say, your role in the movie seems to be rather demanding psychologically,” Remus started off strong, “judging by the book and the trailer, of course.”
Marlene blinked away her surprise fast. Women were usually not asked about their character’s personalities very often.
“Harriet is a bit of a character,” she said eagerly. “She’s too strict on herself and clearly a bit emotionally constipated,” Marlene laughed.
“Was it difficult to recover from that kind of a role?”
“It was,” Marlene’s surprise bled into her voice. “Harriet’s strictness with herself often translated into her constantly picking herself apart so my confidence did see it’s ups and downs.”
“And she’s also Irish!“ Remus redirected towards something lighthearted. “How was working the accent for you?”
“I’m so used to London, it took a lot of work to get my pronunciation as close to a native as I could,” she admitted sheepishly.
Remus grinned, watch pulsating silently on his wrist. “Well, Harriet, I wont keep you long, for your duties call you elsewhere.”
“Wow,” Marlene laughed, “you’re better than Sirius, man!”
“I wouldn’t make it past auditions, Marlene,” he deadpanned.
She giggled. “Give yourself some credit. Sirius only remembered his dialogues when he had to whinge about me.”
Remus shifted back, on his hip, “Harriet, dear, don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Marlene guffawed, “Oh, you’re good.” She waved as she was led away.
Remus didn’t get a refractory period when the next actor swarmed in.
After six successful interviews Remus started to loosen up. He managed to land a few jokes based on the knowledge of the actors and their characters.
“Are you the interviewer that Marls said I had to meet?”
Remus turned around.
Sirius Orion Black.
He was wearing proper Victorian attire. A ruffled white blouse, a midnight blue paisley vest with gold embroidery, charcoal slacks and tailcoat. His hair was tied back with a gold ribbon. God. He looked delectable.
Remus’ brain sent pure dumb into his head and he fish-mouthed. “You cut quite a figure in that suit.”
“It’s an Ollivander custom,” Sirius grinned, eyes shining. Oh, his smile. “I see you’re dressed to star alongside me too!”
Remus cracked a smile. No one had commented on his commitment to the part yet. He was also similarly in Victorian garbs, but he decided to take a simpler route by thrifting and sewing them himself.
“It’s a Remus Lupin special,” he said. After a pause, he motioned to himself, and added, “I’m Remus Lupin.”
“You’ve got quite the talent in suit making, Lupin. Want to make one for me next time?” Sirius leaned in close. Remus could smell the decadent notes of vanilla and coffee in his perfume.
“I’m not all that talented,” Remus said modestly. “I might be better at taking a suit off than putting it on you.”
What the hell am I doing? On Broadcast! Oh, he’s so fired. Lily pinched his arm from behind.
But Sirius Black grinned widely, very obviously looking him up and down, “You certainly have the permission.”
Remus smirked. “Alright now, let’s keep it media-friendly. Tell us, Sirius, you’ve taken on the role of Sir Fitzwilliam Grey, who is notoriously difficult. What was being such a frustrating man like?”
“Frustrating,” Sirius laughed. “He definitely was written well, but boy, he got on my nerves a bit.”
Remus also smiled, agreeing, “It’s true, the book almost made me pull my hair out.”
“You can pull my hair instead,” Sirius winked.
Remus swallowed, before smiling brightly. “Ah, but I don’t put out until the fourth date at least.”
Sirius snorted, “I was talking about braiding my hair.”
“Mm, either ways, I am good with my hands.”
Sirius hid his face in his palms, shoulders shaking with laughter. Remus felt proud of himself for making this man laugh. God, he looked really beautiful.
“So,” he cleared his throat at Frank’s pointed gaze. “James Potter is your best friend and this isn’t your first production together. But you mentioned this project was very close to you, why so?”
“I grew up in a family like Grey’s, so I could understand why he behaved the way he did – I was much like him until I met James. So now I’m not welcome home anymore,” Sirius snickered lightly. This news was known to the public for a while, but it was still a sore subject.
“You’re welcome to my home anytime,” Remus winked, trying to make it lighter on the viewers.
This time, Sirius actually blushed. “I’ll make a note of that.”
“Your first film was also a period era movie, was it nostalgic going back to your roots, in a sense?”
“A little. I was too nervous to experience everything the first time, so this felt like redemption,” Sirius said. Then he broke into a jive, “Redemption is leaving the man you dreamed of~”
Jesus. Caradoc Dearborn through the mouth of Sirius. But Sirius had a really nice voice, rich and robust.
“Sorry, I don’t know why I keep singing that song, must be because I’ve been hearing it a lot on the radio.”
“Yeah, me too,” Remus said stiffly. Lily snorted into her palm.
“Oh?”
“Er, my ex… he was a huge fan of, um, Caradoc Dearborn,” Remus felt his eye twitch.
“Oh.”
“He’s my ex,” Remus shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“Oh yeah, absolutely. If he left you, then he was probably a right Fitzwilliam Grey, eh,” Sirius giggled. “Or like, Earl Grey. A bit basic.”
“You’re right.” He leaned in a bit, heart jumping when Sirius mirrored his action. “I much prefer it Black.”
Sirius’ ears were slowly getting red, probably like his own. “Everyone likes black tea, Remus.”
“We all have good taste,” Remus nodded importantly, willing himself to stand his ground.
His watch beeped, breaking the moment. “Oh, we’ve run out of time. Have you got any last remarks?”
“I hope you watch the movie,” he said to the camera. “And let me know how it is,” he turned to Remus.
“Well, it has been a pleasure to talk to you Mr Black,” Remus smiled his professional smile.
“You too, Remus,” Sirius said softly. “I will see you sometime.”
That sounded like a promise if he’d ever heard one.
Sirius strode away, but Remus noticed him peeking back at where he was stood.
“What on Earth was that Remus?” Lily squealed. “How can we possibly use this footage?!”
“We can, I think. It’s guaranteed views, Lils,” Frank interjected.
Remus blushed. “Sorry, I don’t know what got over me.”
“Thinking with the wrong organ, most likely,” Lily muttered, but she sounded too fond and too impressed to be mad.
“Most likely,” Remus echoed, once again on the receiving end of The Sirius Black smile.
His phone rang six times before he even considered picking it up.
“Hey,” he croaked. “I met the deadlines and uploaded it yesterday evening.”
Lily, who had been pestering him to get the interview out before the movie’s first day, didn’t utter a word.
“Lils?”
“Have you seen the comments?”
Oh, god.
Remus sat up in his bed, blankets falling in a pool around his naked torso. “Should I?”
“Yes.”
He pulled up the video, and immediately was stunned by the 2.3 million views on it. “Holy shit?”
“Read the comments, lad.”
laralare: um id tap his ass too sirius, get in line
beyzoz: not in front of my saladfsusjro?!
flour: am i jealous of sirius or remus lupin?
patricknorth: 6.57 im gay now
gillian: look at the eYES sirius makes when remus mentions his ex!!
hollyhollyday: the blatant flirting?! jail. my single ass is sobbing at 2am
freyja: i like lupin. we need him on more carpets.
doorathea: sirius looks so hot, id hit too. so yeah, remus was just being gay, not unprofessional.
Remus laughed incredulously at the number of comments in support of this tomfoolery.
“Now, Remus, I want you to breathe and go on Twitter.”
“Lily!”
Twitter was flooded with trends. About Him. And Sirius. Together.
#remusirius
#sirius black flirting
#remus lupin
Remus found many tweets – mostly laughing at the pair and dissecting the interaction. But it had felt so natural even to Remus so he had left it in, thinking it was amusing. Clearly everyone agreed.
The topmost tweet however.
SiriusBlack:
Last night was one of my favourite nights ever. I hope tonight you all can enjoy the movie too. Dress victorian, thrift and sew your outfits, have some fun!(a borrowed idea) when in rome, do as the romans do, (or is when in remus more apt? lol) enjoy!!
Remus screamed into his phone, blushing at the innuendo.
“His publicist loves you or hates you.”
“Let’s hope she’s obsessed with me, because.”
“Uh oh, Remus. Remus, what are you doing?”
“Nothing!”
RJLupin: im going to the movie w my best friend this weekend.
SiriusBlack: oh he’s in my dms now
RJLupin: too presumptuous?
SiriusBlack: the right amount i think.
text me here– xxx
“Remus…?”
“Might’ve scored a date with Fitzwilliam.”
“Remus! Caradoc could never!”
Remus laughed.
(a/n: based on a prompt i saw on pinterest lol. can you tell i can’t flirt for my life. or that i have no idea how red carpets work? i wrote this at arse o’ clock, so please excuse the lack of research and feasible scenarios that went into this. i hope it put a smile on your face at least.)
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gotpineapple · 2 years
Text
Under his mane (Part 7) // Tywin Lannister x Baratheon!Fem!Reader
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”A Golden wedding for a golden pair”, someone whispered as the people watched the mighty Old Lion take the Gentle Doe into his arms as the music began to play.
 The way their eyes never left each other’s, the way Tywin’s tall form lead them around the dance floor and the way the bride’s dress swayed in their steps was the epitome of a golden couple. Graceful, powerful and enigmatic.
 ”I feel like an animal in a cage with all these stares”, Y/n whispers as she feels the eyes boring holes into her. Tywin lets a small smirk cross his face.
”Let them stare. You are a Lannister now and-”
”A Lion does not concern himself with the opinions of a sheep”, the new Lady Lannister finishes gently for her husband. It felt surprisingly easy to be in Tywin’s arms in front of all the people. The time she had spent with him over the years was more than just enough for her to feel at ease with him.
 And she knew he would be her strength and stay if needed, no matter his reputation or his own volatile thoughts of himself.
 ”Now now, my lady. You might be my wife now but one should still remain careful when laying in bed with a lion”, Tywin says face serious but voice teasing. She gives a slight smile at him and raises her brows.
 ”I would think it’s safer to lie with the lion rather than lie waiting for it to bounce on you”, she shrugs. Tywin raises his brows at her statement, making her blush as she realizes how her words must have sounded. ”That is how it is for all the women in this realm. Your father and your husband are the beasts that can protect you and give you the most power. But they also are the ones that have the power to take all of yours away in the eyes of the realm”
 ”Do you think I married you just to have you as a pet?”, Tywin scoffs tightening his hold on her, mindful of pulling on her hair.
 ”Do you think I would be a good pet , my lord?”, Y/n challenges him. Asking questions was more entertaining than answering them. If Tywin was in the mood to entertain her questions, she knew she would get entertaining answers.
 ”You may kneel to me in the safety of our bedroom but I would be an idiot to make you kneel in the council room” Tywin’s answer is softer than what she had ever expected. A gentle warmth blooms in her chest as she nods at his words. He was not a man who was intimidated by the idea of a council from women, he was a man who was irritated by the council of people who thought themselves smarter than they were.
She also cannot help but blush at the beginning of his answer. Oddly there was truth to that too. She wished to have a husband who she could kneel to if she so wished. Who she could give all of her vulnerability to when she needed to level her head.
She was always so in control and aware of herself, she needed someone who she could give that power to so she could rest for once.
 As the music comes to halt, the pair turns to walk back to their table arm in arm.
 ”Grandfather! Aunt!”, sounds a cry from the King’s table. Sure enough the blonde boy king stood on his feet, a goblet in his hand and a nasty grin on his face. Y/n’s jaw tightens as she stares at the boy with fire, her hatred burning as strong as wild fire.
 ”The night is young but that’s when young lovers usually like to retire is it not?”, the King’s joke gains a couple of laughs of pity but those come to a quick silence as they see the look on the face of the Hand of the King.
 Tywin licks at his teeth as he waits for his grandson to make another wrong comment. Another wrong comment and the King would be asleep for the rest of his life. If only he could snap that boy down to the deepest hell he was born from.
”It would be a shame for my Lady Aunt to not experience the appreciation of the men as you experienced the love of the ladies when you were first married, Grandfather.”, the King giggles as his mother and Uncle both look nervous at the way he is behaving, knowing full well what their father was capable of.
 ”Let the bedding begin!”
 ”Very well, let us not keep our YOUNG king awake longer than he should be”, Tywin sneers glaring at Joffrey sharply. The boy let’s out a little gulp and has the sensibility look away.
 When the hollers of the men start, Y/n feels the urge to panic, all her memories flooding to her. But before any hand can be laid upon her, her husband is kneeling down, her feet are taken from under her and she thrown over a very high shoulder.
 Tywin was carrying her to their bed chambers. Tywin Lannister was carrying her in front of all of the guests. The hollers die down at the sight. With a soft squeak she grabs onto the leather of Tywin’s coat. The absurdity of the situation almost causing her to laugh.
 This was not an act to humiliate her, no. This was an act to dare anyone to hurt her and live with the consequences. She knew that the common people in the keep needed no warning. The servants and town’s people were rarely malicous when it came to people who treated them well. They were people who worked to live, they did not work to gain petty power.
 The reminder was to the knights and Lords and Ladies. To the King and the Queen regent.
 No one in the room dares to touch the pair as the husband carries his wife across the hall towards the tower of the hand. Tywin looks at the men around the room with the eyes of steel. Daring them to take a step closer.
 No one moves until the couple is out of sight.
 ***
When the pair arrive to the steps leading to the Tower of the Hand, Tywin gently places Y/n back to the ground.
 ”I must say, you surprise me, my lord husband”, Y/n says with a soft mischievous smile. ”I never expected such show of strength from such an old man”
 Her jest causes Tywin to let out a short laugh. ”My my wife, there are more than enough surprises to come”, he says jovially as they began ascending the steps. ”That boy needed a lesson, no one seems to be keeping the brat in check”, he says lowering his voice slightly.
 ”I used to think that boy needed some benefit of a doubt for his youth. I pitied him for how my brother treated him.
He is far too gone to be saved anymore, Margaery is his only chance for becoming a beloved King. But should she fail…I never want to see that fate fall on anyone”, the Doe says shaking her head slightly.
 ”And what say you of your remaining brother’s claim to the Throne?”, Tywin inquires laying a hand on the small of his new wife’s back.
 A soothing or domineering gesture. In this case: Both
 ”In an ideal world birth right should not matter to who sits on the throne. In ours it makes it easier to choose who leads but do you truly think birth right gives anyone the quality to sit on a throne? Most people cleaning the sewers have more sensibility than us born in the great houses.
 No matter what we claim, all we are fighting for is our own power. Marriages, wars, they are selfish deals for people of nobility, we just try to justify them to ourselves so we can keep living our status”, she near whispers the end as they arrive in front of the guards who immediately open the door for them.
 Once they are let inside the chambers Tywin leads her to have a seat in front of a dresser. The bed chamber of the hand was everything that was to be expected, red and gold, and regal. Yet the things that laid inside spoke of a pragmatist living inside of it. The fishing rods and sets of knives laying on top of a chest were not the common sight for a bed chamber of a man in his boots.
 Looking at each other through the looking glass, Tywin speaks lowly. ”Family is all that matters, family is what keeps on living. We are a family now. It is no longer my legacy or your legacy, it is our legacy that matters.
 My children never learned that blood does not give you wisdom, tact or capability. If one doesn’t build their own legacy it will die down, no matter what the generations before us built”
 While speaking he walks over to a pitcher and pours out two goblets of wine. Walking back and placing her goblet on the dresses he takes her chin into his hand and turns her to face him.
 ”You understand more than you should in the eyes of many, you fool many but you won’t fool me. You did not answer my question of Stannis which leads me to my answer. ”
”Do not hide things from me”, his tone turns dangerous at the end of his speech causing Y/n to gulp.
 Gently pulling Tywin’s hand off of her face, she takes a sip of her wine and stands up, stepping right in front of her husband. ”I am at your mercy Tywin. Bare and scarred, as I have been since I was laid in front of you”, she admits looking down at her feet.
 Gentle hands lift her crown of antlers off of her head, a sound of metal softly touching wood following the action. The feet of her husband disappear from in front of her as she feels his hands meticulously starting to untie the laces of her gown.
 They stand in silence as he works on the lacings, soon helping her arms out of the sleeves. Leaving her only in her chemise and tubular bodice.
 Offering her his arm, he guides her to step out of the dress and stand once again face to face with him. His hands cup the back of her neck as he brings their faces closer to each other before speaking ”I am a hardened man Y/n. I am a cruel man. But no mark will taint your skin apart from the marks of passion from this day on”
 The low timbre of his voice causes a shiver to rise up the spine of the new Lady of the Casterly Rock causing her to let out an audible sigh. Never had she doubted how attractive Tywin Lannister was, no matter his age, he was still a handsome, authoritive man. A man who commanded attention without begging for it.
 Staring into his green, gold flecked eyes, she softly leans up and kisses the edge of his mouth before lowering her forehead to rest against the side of his chin.
 ”Mark me then, bring me under you mane for good”, she whispers vulnerably.
Her request causes Tywin’s chest rise and his nostrils to flare.
 I am no savage,
 Tywin thinks, before his hand tangles itself into the hair of his new wife, pulls her face back, just to bring her back closer to lock their lips together with overwhelming desire.
 Y/n can’t help the whimper that rises out of her mouth as Tywin bites on her lower lip, his other arm circling her whole back to hold her impossibly close. Raising her own arms she bring one of her hands to cup his cheek while the other finds itself on his shoulder blade.
 ”My Lord”, she moans as he pulls on her hair to get room to nibble on her neck, his scruff scratching her sensitive skin.
 Tywin pulls back with a ferocious look in his eyes. ”There are plenty of Lords in Westeros but there is only one Tywin Lannister and my wife will only call on my name in the throes of pleasure”, he growls .
 ”Tywin”, his lady wife says softly looking up at him with wide glistening eyes. Once again, her husband bends his knees and her feet leave the floor. This time her legs end up around his waist and lips locked with his.
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127tyong · 2 years
Text
Highway to Heaven Intro
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Genre: Only plot, Jeno hates you, Yangyang loves you, Renjun is scared of you, Haechan wants to play with you, Jaemin is being Jaemin, Reader is oblivious by choice.
Warnings: No warnings for intro, only fluff for now x
Word Count: 1.2k
You’re losing your mind. How could you be so stupid? When you filled out housing applications to attend NCIT, you later received an email offering free dorming, so naturally, you accepted. You figured it was gonna be a run down, old dorm room which you’d have to clean, or something. You didn’t read the whole email, and somehow, you were the only girl stupid enough not to. The caveat was the fact you would be living in the boy’s dorms, and the only girl there. Honestly, you didn’t care enough to change it. After all, it’s free housing, and how bad could it really be?
Really bad, apparently. You have to live in a suite with 5 other guys! Sure, you do get your own room. Sure, you do get a beautiful living room, but 5 other people? You already knew they wouldn’t clean after themselves. This was going to ruin your college experience.
But all your best friend, Jisoo, can think about is how hot the 5 of them are.
“Look at that buff guy, oh my god, the things I would do…” Jisoo, giggled, looking at a guy from across your dorm hall.
“Oh my god, Jisoo, I have to live with him!” You whisper-screamed. 
Her eyes lit up. “If you don’t want him, you have to introduce me, I mean, you know what they say about guys with big noses!”
You rolled your eyes.
“C’mon, oral with guys with big noses is so~ much better.”
He walked over to you two, and extended his hand to you. “Jeno, the guy with the big nose, and your roommate.”
You awkwardly forced a laugh and shook his hand, praying he didn’t notice how sweaty and nervous you are.
Jeno crossed his arms. “All your stuff is up here now, yeah? Can she leave now? We need to make house rules and it’s already 10 pm.”
Jisoo practically ran out of the door. “Bye baby girl! I’ll see you tomorrow!” She blew you a kiss. 
You sighed. "So, rules, huh?"
~
You, Jeno, and the other boys sat around a dining table.
"So, to explain, all five of us have been friends since we were kids. So we're cool with no rules, but we wanted you to be able to make some rules so we don't cross the line.”
You nodded. "Well, thanks. First rule, for my sake, no walking around naked."
"I second that. But no walking around in lingerie in general." A boy with black hair and blonde underneath nodded his head.
Jeno started typing this all out into a Google Doc.
You continued. "Second rule, you make a mess, you clean it. But we all have to clean the dorm on Sundays. And if someone doesn't show up without letting us all know beforehand, they have to clean the bathrooms the week after."
"那么我们应该进行群聊吗?" A boy asked. (T/N: Shall we have a group chat?)
"好." Someone replied (T/N: Fine.)
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"Haechan, language!"
"Jaemin, language!" Haechan said mockingly.
"It means, you all have to give her your phone number." You pulled out your phone and handed it to Jeno, and by the time you got your phone back, you had "Full Sun", "Nana", "Big Nose", "Sheep", and "Yellow" in your contacts list. 
"Guys, I need your real names." 
"Haechan."
"Na Jaemin."
"You already know my name."
"Yangyang, yang as in sheep."
"Huang Renjun, Huang as in yellow."
You sighed. "Well, we have an entire year to get to know each other…"
"Rule 3!" Jaemin yelled. "We split the cost of groceries evenly."
"God no. We all know you're gonna kill our wallets with your coffee addiction." Jeno looked up from his Macbook.
"Actual third rule," Renjun sighed, "No bringing other people over." He looks at you. "As nice as Jisoo seems to be-" Jeno scoffed. "I don't want random people over. And we'll all do the same. No guy friends over."
You chimed in. "How about I'll ask before I invite anyone over?"
"Fine, but that means we all have to agree."
Jeno typed all this out. "Fourth rule, to double down on that, no hook ups. We may all have our own rooms, but we all live here." He looked at you for confirmation. 
"Wasn't planning on it." You crossed your arms.
"This seems good enough for now." Yangyang said. "But the bigger issue is… who gets what room?"
"I thought the university assigned us rooms?" You looked at him, puzzled.
"Let me spell this out for you. There are two bedrooms left of the living room, and two right, and two behind. Each of those pairs has its own bathroom. You're in the room to the left of the living room. And that means whoever lives next to you has to share a bathroom with you, and the walls are thin so…"
"No offense, but we're planning on betting who has to take that room." Haechan finished Yangyang’s sentence. 
All the boys nodded. 
"Wait!" You sat there stunned. "Shouldn't I get to choose? I mean, it is my roommate.”
"Oh dear God, not me…" Renjun rambled.
"Just for that, I'm picking you." You replied snarkily.
"We have a winner!" Jaemin announced. "Renjun, please move your shit to the left hall!"
"Wait, wait. We should actually take this seriously, I mean, we're all out of state students so there's no going back, and we're living here for a year." Jeno rationalized.
"Yeah! I vote that we all sleep together in that one room!" Jaemin smiled. “We can cuddle.”
"JAEMIN NO." All the boys said at once.
"Damn, y'all treat him like a puppy." You laughed.
"Nah, he's a bunny." Jeno shook his head.
"You know what, you all can decide, I'm showering then going to sleep." You stood up, not waiting for a goodbye.
"Sleep well!" Jaemin smiled and waved at you.
You got the best night of sleep in your life while the boys played Mafia.
~
"HEY WAKE UP!" The sound of knocking ruined your blissful sleep.
"No!!" You groaned.
"Jeno and I ordered food for all of us, let's eat together!" It sounded like Yangyang.
"Fine…" You stepped out, groggily, and made your way to the dining table.
"Girl, put some actual clothes on." Jeno looked at you from across the table. You were just wearing a tank top and shorts.
"Get used to it." You sat down and grabbed the plate of omurice.
"It's not like she's wearing anything that bad." Yangyang stood behind you and gave you a back hug, then tied your hair up for you.
Jeno slammed his chopsticks on the table and mumbled something about waking up Jaemin.
"So, aren't you interested to know what happened while you were sleeping?" Yangyang sat next to you.
"Oh yeah… who's stuck with me?"
Yangyang laughed. "Jeno." He whispered.
Yangyang laughed. "Me."
"Oh really? How?" You stared at him with wide eyes.
"I won!" He giggled.
Jeno threw one of his t-shirts at you. "Cover up."
"Don't be fucking rude." You scoffed, but still put the shirt on.
Yangyang moved in closer to you, and put his lips next to your ear. "We all want that room. Jeno's just upset you're giving me attention instead of him."
"But… why?"
Yangyang pulled away, and smiled. “You’ll find out.”
(A/N: Edited due to suggestions)
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rueitae · 1 year
Text
Season 2, Episode 5: the Boston Tea Party Caper for @csweekly
BACKSTORY DAY BACKSTORY DAY
And not just for Ivy and Zack! They literally meet Carmen on her first caper and Player is so YOUNG. They’re babies all of them and I love them. Honestly it makes it even more special they met each other on caper 1.
“Player can have his own room” I could literally cry at the sweet sentiment but also my conspiracy mind whirls because so many throwaway lines were foreshadowing WHAT IF THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN TOO
“I thought he lived in the cloud” LOL
Zack: maybe it’s a flying race car?
Let your dreams become reality next week, Zack.
LoL Shadowsan did not ask for a flashback but he’s literally getting one. That’s so funny.
These two episodes are so interesting. Zack, up until now, we have only known as a ray of sunshine, a golden retriever. But Trey is about the only person EVER to get under his skin. Even Dash Haber, who actively tried to do so, only succeeded in making him nervous or mildly annoyed and generally clueless in a stressful situation. But as far as I can see, Trey is not insulting Zack. He’s insulting the car, which Ivy built from scratch with her talent and skill. Zack doesn’t get mad over himself. He gets mad over people knocking his family. Only once they do that does Trey get Zack mad by insulting him personally.
Okay counting the cars, Zack comes in fifth, so they DO qualify. They just don’t have a car for the actual money races.
Shark Head Eddie is peak character design.
Urgh the sibling conversation in the car breaks my heart. They are such good kids. They don’t want to do this but they will psych themselves up to do what they have to. Contrast that to when they’re stealing to help Carmen. It’s a mission they can put their hearts into.
Okay this is the best way to tell the backstory. Shadowsan’s even half invested. And Carmens just. Nah I’m not letting you get off the hook for this one. You two started the story I’ll finish. And now we get Carmen’s side!
“A few months” my butt. More like a few months had to be closer to a year to 1. Grow in height 2. Grow the hair
And honestly changing the plan because Zack and Ivy are there and stressing Player out just becomes the norm. Also that’s great Ivy could sneak in specifically because Player cut the security cams. They’re unintentionally helping each other already.
Carmen not used to driving a vehicle. Boats in the middle of the ocean have no traffic.
I DONT EVEN HAVE MY LEARNERS PERMIT.
Please someone write the fic where Zack shows up in Canada to help Player pass his driving exam. PLEASE
I am endeared that Zack and Ivy give the first geography brief. Literally everything about them endeared them to Carmen.
Carmen Sandiego, kidnapped by two siblings from Boston for a history lesson. The comedy That her hat just lingers for a minute in the air.
Reminder for next fic to have Zack attempt to create a baseball rivalry with Player or Carmen over the BlueJays or Padres.
Player literally fact checking them from Canada lol he’s so chill they’re family already.
Also, Player has changed into his regular series outfit. No more white hat. He’s “red hat” with Carmen now. Let me talk about his layers of clothing color theory now, Even if it’s a fashion disaster it has meaning. Blue shorts are for his white hat days, as blue is ACME/the “good guys” so to speak. He wears a red T-shirt to show his loyalty to Carmen, but because he’s a secret he keeps it covered by the grey hoodie. Lastly, the yellow zipper on his hoodie matches the yellow zipper on Carmen’s stealth suit. Usually yellow is for team red Allies. Sonia, comes to mind later. Players outfit is literally inverse of Carmen’s. As she wears black underneath the red, and wears blue gloves.
You can literally see Carmen’s disappointment forming as the sibs start talking about the money.
I FORGOT it was Brunt who called it Beantown lol
I also forget how soft the classmates were on Black Sheep. Le Chevre wants her to get away. He knows how angry the Faculty are and what an egregious move she’s made by running away. He understands what that means. He still cares about her safety right now. It’s such a good scene. Because Carmen might have been fond of them, but she acknowledges they all joined VILE and knew what they were getting into. She’s not holding back and she’s not going to show much emotion over it. She knew this was going to happen one day.
If I had a nickel for every time Le Chevre and El Topo got pushed into the water I’d have like four nickels by now.
The WAY IVY RESPONDS to Carmen needing muscles I’m dying every time.
Ivy and Zack are so chaotic they’re helping Carmen without even realizing it yet. Just solidifies they’re made for each other. Also!!! I love how curious and inquisitive Ivy is!!! They haven’t even joined Carmen but she’s already thinking about making a grappling hook!!!! What a little scientist!! Bellum would love her.
Their team up fits so perfectly. Ivy and Zack need out of town, and Carmen has found out she very much needs some ground assistance. AND FRIENDS MORE FRIENDS. It’s just been her and Player it has to be lonely.
And to round it off, Shadowsan’s pov on the Faculty reaction. That’s so neat that because he’s there we get all of the pov. That was really cool because sometimes we’ll get that insight into the third party reaction for no reason in other shows, but here it’s because Shadowsan remembers and he’s there! So they all participate in reminiscing.
There! Series ending explained. Ivy and Zack love what they do. And they love Carmen. Despite their fear sometimes, they get a huge rise out of being able to thwart the bad guys. They love racing yes, but they still get to do so in a way now. They tried something different and they love it.
I knew this logically, but seeing all four of them get into the car has my mind racing with joy over the many trips to the airport and road trips the four of them have taken.
Also Player is so endeared to them too. He specifically uses the term flying car teasingly. I love. This family.
Next week time for Rue getting massive second hand embarrassment (but still a good episode! Effective!)
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silveeee · 1 year
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idia who's sarcastic like 99% of the time but as soon as the sarcasm comes from another person he's clueless(projection goes brrr)💀
the projection is so real
anyway ! thank you for the request :D sorry it took me so long to write, i got busy with school but i also got thrown into writer's block </3
i freestyled this a little cause idk how u envisioned me writing this ^^" hope u like it tho !!!!
btw i refuse to make Ortho call Idia "brother" in dialogue where he's talking to him bc no mf does that. anywhere. ever. in the English language. so i'm sticking with the JP appellations !
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no content warnings needed :)
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It was downright unfair. Maybe even preposterous! Idia had been pacing around his room, mumbling and talking to himself – and the sheep plushies he and Ortho owned – about what had happened only ten minutes prior to him getting back to his room.
Idia had basically been forced to go into the real world to go get some equipment from Sam's shop, where he had encountered Vil. Vil wasn't the worst person to come across, but when Vil had tried to start up a conversation with him, which eventually lead to Idia asking him what he was there for, Idia got back a reply that made sense.
But it only made sense in the moment because as soon as he started walking back to his room he realized that Vil sounded a little.. off? He didn't even remember what Vil had said back to him, which made Idia a little nervous. What if he had sounded dumb? It couldn't have been that much of a fatal reply, right?
And so there he ended up, in his room, talking to the sheep plushies on his bed.
"It just can not have been so bad. There is no way. You guys would definitely agree with me if you had come with me and witnessed the whole situation, for sure!"
The sheep plushies didn't respond, obviously, but right after Idia finished his sentences the door to his room opened, Ortho coming in through the door a second later.
"Are you getting answers out of them, Nii-san?"
"Yeah, they're spilling the world's very own secrets to me right now."
Ortho wasn't one to use sarcasm much himself, since he thought it was confusing, but Idia used it almost daily. It got more frequent when Idia was thinking about a situation where he couldn't figure out what was going on.
Ortho then quickly managed to put two and two together, moving over to pat Idia on the back. "Nii-san, even if you completely missed the sarcasm, they most likely have already forgotten about the interaction."
"...thanks, Ortho."
Maybe he should just bring Ortho with him next time.
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ty for reading !!! it was short but i also didn't really. have an exact idea for the prompt ? as i said, i freestyled it and i'm not unhappy with the result !!
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caemthe · 1 month
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@intcritus said.º
His chin is tucked into his chest, arms folded and a slight furrow to his brow that smooths out as he dozes off. Vega has gone off to search for random treasure and the badger is sure he'll be back when boredom strikes but for now, between wakefulness and the need for a nap, he's aware of Cú, and can hardly refrain the twitch of his lips. " Is there a reason yer being so noisy? Usually yer light on yer feet. Nervous?" Voice is husky with sleep and he watches the wolf from beneath the thick fringe of his lashes, " Dont worry about him. If I can't kill him, then he'll be fine. "
He should be sleeping, the wolf was very aware of it. He tended to wake up later than everyone and could be such a pain to deal with in the morning, so it was for the best he slept early. But, even if he closed his eyes and started counting sheep, the land of dreams didn't call for him. Ears twitched whenever he heard something different, while his tail wagged nervously from side to side. And he completely blamed Vega for that! He wouldn't be having this much trouble sleeping if that dammed necromancer hadn't decided to go investigate on their own without telling him when they'll return.
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Ughhh, this situation annoyed him. Vega annoyed him.
"I'm not nervous," the wolf argued, but the defensiveness in his tone exposed him. He wasn't a good liar, nor was he any good at hiding his emotions. Wolf ears dropped as if to signal his slightly gloomy mood. "He's strong, far stronger than he looks and lets others believe, I can see that much. And it's not as if I'm worried about his well-being." That wasn't completely true, he was a little worried. Parts of the dungeon had fallen to corruption, and he knows better than anyone what corruption does to a person. "It's just that... I don't know, it makes me uneasy. He's the secretive type, so it's not like I have any idea what's going through his mind most of the time. I tend to let my mind wander and think too much when he isn't around."
Ruby-like gaze drifted to the door of the room they were staying at. As expected, he didn't hear familiar steps getting closer, even though it was getting late. How annoying. "Just what does he need to check that we can't go as well, huh?" And so the wolf clicking his tongue in annoyance. He didn't like being kept in the dark, even though he knew the necromancer didn't have to tell him anything. "Don't mind me, just because I'm awake doesn't mean you've to wait with me. I'll just... take another look at the map and the notes we took on our way here. It should buy us some time for tomorrow."
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mommydust · 3 months
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A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing.. (oc x ghost)
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A story full of star crossed lovers, angst, betrayal, and unexpected plot twist you won't see coming, and a lesson of you can't trust everyone, not even those closest...
Them Rats.. (Chp. 7)
Drew closed her diary and regret writing it immediately after. She shove it behind her dresser and swallow her nerves as she walked out of her room.
To go against Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil were punishable enough, but being their own daughter and doing so..Drew was unsure of what the consequences would be. But she knew they wouldn't be light.
Drew continued to think on that as she snuck out to meet with Omega, who had told her he had something important to share with her privately.
"Would you like honey in your tea?" Omega asked as Drew sat down at a table in his room that was located on the other half of the church.
"No." Drew mumbles.
"You're mumbling again. What's the matter?" Omega asked as he poured two cups of tea.
"Huh? Nothing..just was thinking about things recently." Drew said.
"Do you want to talk-" Omega began.
"No." Drew mumbles. "Stop going off topic, what is so important that you had to tell me?"
"Sorry just..nervous." Omega said as he placed the tea in front of her and took a seat across from her. His wood chair making various squeaks as he sat down.
Omega sighed and nervously tapped on his cup. "I-..your brother and I.." He began. "Nevermind."
"Come on.." Drew groaned before she sighed. "Sorry..I'm probably not making this better for you. I'm not good at comforting others..but I will listen, I promise." Drew said in a more soft tone.
Omega took a deep breath. "Uh..for some time now..your brother and I have been..uh working together. You know, showing me things we wants to do when he becomes papa, practicing a few songs together..um but-but it came a little more than that at some point."
Drew paused mid sip.
"I know it's sounds odd and unnatural..a human and a ghoul, together. It's something about him, maybe that he's never been afraid of us or thought of us as beast. Or maybe it's way I can feel comfortable around him..the littlest butterflies in my stomach when he's near.." Omega rambled and the realization clicked with Drew.
"You two are together?" She asked.
"Yes..I-i wanted to tell you because I trust you and so does Terzo. I just wanted to ask you personally if it would be okay since Terzo clearly has a special place in his heart for you and vice versa..." Omega said quietly.
"Well..thank you.." Drew began, taking in all this new information. "And as long as you make him happy..that's all that matters."
Omegas eyes squinted with the smiled behind his mask.
"Now that I think about it, it all makes sense between you two." Drew chuckled as her and Terzo walk on a path outside the church. "All the times I've seen you two together seem awfully flirtatious now that I look back."
Terzo chuckled. "Yes, though I'm trying to be better about it. I can't slip up around the wrong people. I hope that when I'm papa I'll be able to bring maybe even the slightest amounts of equality to ghouls."
"Me too.." Drew agreed. "I'm honored that you trust me."
"Of course, you're one of the few people I trust Drew." Terzo admitted.
"You don't trust a lot of people?" Drew questioned.
"You can't trust everyone Drew." Terzo sighed. "There's...there's something not right about our church and the people running it.."
"With ghouls?" Drew asked.
"Not just ghouls, Drew. There's something more than just spreading satanic influence to the outside world with music going on here. Even Primo agrees something is wrong." Terzo said.
"I-I don't understand." Drew said concerned. "Is something bad going to happen?"
Terzo gave Drew a complexed look. "I don't know, but Omega told me that before either of us were born that there was a whole other part of the church that was below ground. It was said to have been used as underground passages to different places inside the actual church."
"Really?" Drew asked.
"I didn't believe it either as every evidence of it has been removed from the church's history, but Omega still has an old map of the whole underground system." Terzo said.
"Why was it removed" Drew asked.
"It's closed off and filled in now because people abused its ability of secrecy.." Terzo began. "A group of cloaked people, not ghouls, humans were said to have frequent meetings. These people sought more than what the church intends. They sought utter power and control."
"Well..were they ever caught?" Drew asked.
"Only 2.." Terzo sighed.
"Out of?" Drew asked hesitantly.
"Omega said an estimated..70." Terzo said. "And what's worse is that people around have done odd things out of the blue, various rooms turned upside down without trace of who, people gone missing..but the church doesn't bring that to the surface. Drew, I have this gut feeling that..that this means someone within the high ranks..maybe the clergy..are one of those people. Maybe more."
"Satanas.." Drew breathed. "So there are "rats" among us still."
"I am afraid there still is, little sister. But do not worry, your big brothers will do everything to make sure you're safe. I won't harm come your way, Drew." Terzo said trying to lighten up the mood.
The heaviness of the idea that a whole secret organization could still be thriving within their very church made Drew uneasy.
With this new information only brought Drew more questions and the truth seemed to hide itself even further..
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forabeatofadrum · 11 months
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Thank you for the tag @martsonmars. Happy 10th birthday to Check, Please!
Y’all know what time it is, right? That’s right, it’s Thesis Wednesday!
Last week, I shared the opening of my conclusion and it is, in Peach’s language, a dogshit chapter. I know. I said it myself. (Or actually, I meme’d it myself.)
After talking with my thesis advisor, I have some extra confidence. I mean, I am pretty confident about my results chapter. That one is no longer dogshit. My conclusion.... we’re getting there.
Here is the same first paragraph, but now slightly improved:
The aim of this research is to explore how queer women give meaning to the representation of queer women in television series and films. Queer women give meaning based on their judgments about the quality of television series and films, on how queer women are treated differently in television series and films, on the influence of television series and films, and because of a sense of identification that develops during the watching the television series and films.
Yes, that is an abundance of “television series and films”, but hey, my thesis advisor didn’t comment on that. As I said, it is slightly improved. It is still pretty vague, but just.... less? I am just a bit nervous cause it is still kind of dogshit and all my chapters will be graded separately. I need to pass all of them in order to pass my thesis, so I hope this conclusion won’t, as the Dutch say, put ashes in my food. I need to hand in a draft of the full thesis this Friday.
Again, [WYFMITE voice] how does this make you feel?
If you just read this sentence on its own, is it... fine? Okay? Dogshit?
It is also such a long sentence. Maybe I just need to cut it up in a couple of sentences, aka giving every main results its own sentence. I am just struggling with the ✨ word count ✨! Honestly, right now, I am under the word count, which surprised both me and my thesis advisor BUT I am aware I also need to add some other things so I doubt it will stay there SO using extra words when it’s unnecessary is not ideal. But is it unnecessary? Or is it necessary to make it more readable?
OH AND YOU KNOW WHAT IS ALSO FUNNY? MY THESIS NEEDS A TITLE AND A SUMMARY (aka the Abstract). WHY IS THIS FUNNY? CAUSE I’VE BITCHED COUNTLESS TIMES THAT THE HARDEST PART OF (fic) WRITING IS COMING UP WITH THE TITLE AND SUMMARY!!!! I’VE HAD FINISHED FICS STUCK IN MY DRAFTS FOR WEEKS BECAUSE OF THIS SHIT. SO YEAH, I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS SHIT ALSO HAUNTS MY THESIS.
And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @takitalks @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @cutestkilla @nausikaaa/@wellbelesbian @artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @shrekgogurt @boyinjeans @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @blackberrysummerblog @whatevertheweather​ @nightimedreamersghost​
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dotster001 · 2 years
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Hi! I use she/they pronouns. I’d like to do an obey me match up please for the followers event! Please don’t match me up with mestipho or thirteen as I don’t know anything about them really! I haven’t gotten their yet lol. I’m a sculpture major and love all kinds of art, especially origami and embroidery. I love to write and learn about almost anything. I’m a collector of many things, from nature and the past. I love me a good friends to lovers. I’ve been told by friends and family I’m reliable, kind and patient, and being reliable is something I really value in a relationship. I tend to cry and startle easily, as I have ptsd, so I prefer if people are gentle with me. Thank you so much!! I love your fic the cuddle war so much it was so CUTE!!!!
(Omg you're just too sweet! No worries, all I know about Mephisto and thirteen are from fanfics so you're safe. In all honesty, I almost paired you with Mammon, cause he's a puppy, but I remembered he has absolutely no chill)
I match you with Levi.
Luckily for both of you, he also enjoys a good friends to lovers, so the second you two start to get closer, that's all he can think about. (He's not blushing! It's just hot in his room from all the computers)
He absolutely loves that you're a sculpture major, and asks you to make pottery for him all the time. Especially early in the relationship, when you two are only just starting to develop feelings, he'll hold the stuff you make and pretend you're holding hands.
Falls even further in love with you (if that's even possible) when he finds out you like origami. The two of you will have nights where you just watch anime and try to make increasingly complicated origami animals.
You like history? Henry, he was there! He has a lot of things that he's collected over the years, and he is willing to share them with you for your own collection. Just make sure to give him another sculpture in exchange.
He's not much into leaving his room, but when he learns you like nature he'll make an exception. He'll take you to the ocean to introduce you to Lotan, and tell you everything he knows about sea life on the Devildom. (Which is a lot, it's his domain after all)
I hc that since Levi has high anxiety, he also has issues with loud noises, and when crowds get too big. (I'm not projecting, shut up) so he does everything he can to help you avoid your triggers. 
He learns to read your body language so he can get you out of a situation fast, but if he happens to be too late or slow on the uptake, he takes you to a quiet place, and gently holds you and whispers soft reassurances until you can relax again.
The two of you are in Levi's room watching the premiere of the new anime "I finally have a best friend, but it turns out we're soulmates and now we are falling in love!" Both of you are sitting in comfortable silence and folding papers when suddenly you speak up.
"Done!" You hold up your finished origami and place it gently in Levi's hands. "It's Henry 2.0!"
He looks down at it, and almost looks like he's about to cry.
"It's beautiful." He sniffles, and pulls you in for a soft kiss on your cheek. "I love it. Mine's not done yet, so don't look."
You obediently close your eyes, until you feel him place it in your lap.You look at it and notice it's a sheep. On it, he has written, "To my beautiful Henry, with love from your Lord of Shadows"
You look at Levi who seems nervous. You grab his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.
"I love it. It's perfect."
He lets out a relieved smile, and pulls you in for cuddles. Even after the anime has finished the two of you continue cuddling until you both drift off to sleep.
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Wolves are starting to become a problem to the herds of sheep being near their living/hunting grounds, to the point where they just kill bc their predator instinct kicks in (aka sheep start running = wolf starts chasing and biting) and don’t really eat the sheep. A group called Wolves in the Netherlands stated that we’ve “forgotten how to protect our herds from wolves, and we’ll need to re-learn it.”
Interestingly, just last week I read an (older) article on their own site about how people used to drive away wolves. Which was by organising large groups to herd wolves into nets or strategic landmarks, and kill them. So uhh...
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anime-grimmy-art · 3 years
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What do you do when there’s not much to an AU? You make up your own stuff, ofc. And as is per usual when I make Character Designs, I make up a shit ton of lore too.
The ramblings under the cut, but what I’m really interested in, is what you guys think. Do you guys have any headcanons/ideas for this AU? Let me hear them! Also, if you don’t wanna read on tumblr, here’s the Google Docs link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/151yshHxnb_--P6eMKkwkI2dee9xC_Llb/view?usp=sharing
Before I get into the characters’ roles, here’s some general facts and backstory of their town:
- Basically, it’s Undertale meets Harvest Moon / Stardew Valley. Well, kinda. I at least used that approach for coming up for the jobs for the characters. You know, how there’s always a general store, a doctor, a smithy, etc.
- The usual story of a HM game is that you come to a town that’s way past its glory days and you, as the player/farmer, help them get back to that. The “backstory” of the town is that that already kinda happened. I’ll get into it more in the character description, but basically when Asgore was still mayor, the town got really popular. Then yadda yadda, a certain tragedy happened, two kids died, and the town suddenly got very bad publicity. There was a lot of stuff going on back then, bad reputation being spread and also a lot of law stuff, cos, you know, supposed child murder ‘n all, so Asgore made the decision to shut off the town to ppl from outside. This was in the interest of most monsters living there, because as fun as it is to have a lot of people coming there, most just wanted to live a quiet life. Not everyone was happy with that though, so many moved away from town and some others are trying to get the town back on its feet. But more on that later.
On to the characters:
I’m just gonna start with the skelebros, cos it’s their fault in the first place I got so invested.
Basically, they are what the player is in hm/sdv. They just showed up one day, took over the abandoned farmhouse and began their life there. The two came to town way after it was “closed” and since then a new mayor has opened the possibility for new residents to move in. Their farm helps the economy of the town a lot and the mayor, like usually in hm games, is trying to use that to make the town more known again. The skelebros aren’t really working towards that goal however.
So, now a bit more detail on them individually.
Papyrus:
- The design is mostly based on what’s “canon” in this au.
- He works mostly on the fields and is in charge of the crops. Their fields aren’t spectacularly big, but still big enough to plant a few dozen rows of veggies. 
- Paps also helps out a lot in town when he has the time. He helps Asgore with his plants, he goes fishing with Undyne, helps Toriel carry crates around and so on. This is inspired by the part-time job mechanic in HM ToT.
- Unbelievably, in this AU Pap is not an absolutely awful cook. Since he helps out at Muffet’s and Grillby’s a lot, they tend to show him some tricks to cooking. Even though Pap’s not a big fan of the greasy or overly sweet cooking those two do, he picks up a lot.
Sans:
- Again, design mostly based on the “canon” look. Maybe a bit more baggy.
- This is finally an AU this dude gets to rest. Since there are no resets and he doesn’t have to see his bro die again and again, for once in his life, he’s not a sad ball of depression. He’s just a chill and lazy dude that loves to make puns. Though, since he’s not too experienced with the feelings of loss, helplessness or grieving, he still tends to hide behind puns and fakes smiles if he does feel bad.
- Sans is in charge of the animals on the farm. Papyrus begrudgingly gave him that role since Pap’s loud demeanour and hectic movements usually scare the animals. Sans’ relaxed attitude draws the animals to him naturally and even if Pap mostly finds him sleep against a tree, in a stack of hay or on one of the sheep, the animals are always fed, healthy and relaxed, so Sans seems to be doing his job.
- Sans always has a small chic sit inside his hoodie or hat. Is it always the same one? Who knows, maybe.
- Sans also, somehow, can produce eggs out of thin air. Grab into his hoodie pocket, in his pants pocket, in his hat, in his slipper, there’s suddenly always an egg there. On good days he can even make butter or cheese appear. 
Gaster:
- He’s literally just a scarecrow in this. Though, if you ask any of the bros why they designed their scarecrow that way, they won’t have an answer.
Frisk&Toriel:
- Frisk is mostly based on what I wore myself as a kid in summer. Just a loose shirt with a cappy. Toriel basically has her ut gown, just with an apron on top.
- Frisk just appeared outside the “magical” forest one day. Napstablook and his cousin found them and brought them to Toriel, who has been taking care of them since.
- Toriel runs the general store in town, but also often takes care of the few kids that still live there.
- Frisk usually helps out in Toriels store, plays with the other kids or sits around at Asgore’s. They’re notorious for nabbing small snacks, mostly from Asgore’s plants. You’ll always find them munching on something. 
- Frisk was in town before the skelebros. Since they’d moved in, Frisk often went to spy on their farm. After a small incident with angry chicken, Frisk got to know the two better and now they see them as something between brothers and uncles.
- But Frisk honestly gets along with everyone. Just like in UT, they’ve not only been adopted by Toriel but literally everyone.
- Toriel and Asgore’s relationship is not as bad as in the main game, since, you know, Asgore didn’t kill literal children, but there’s still tension between them. Back when Asriel and Chara died and the whole thing with the bad rep for the town began, Toriel felt betrayed by Asgore focusing more on the town than giving their deceased kids the grieving they deserved. They’re not divorced, but Toriel still moved out and said needed space to think. Now that Frisk is in the picture though, the both of them are slowly coming to even ground and may even be able to talk things out and clear up the uncertainty of their decisions.
Asgore:
-Asgore has his UT Ending / Deltarune clothes, just with a gardener’s belt.
- He’s the previous mayor of the town, but after all the crap that happened, he stepped down from the position. Now he has his own little shop and sells seeds, saplings, homegrown veggies and fertilizer. So, basically what e.g. the Marimba Farm is in HM AP
- His main customer is Papyrus and they’re on friendly terms. Asgore is worried about how much and how hard Pap works, so he often gives him a discount. 
- Since his family’s past tragedy, Asgore is kind of nervous around kids. So, when he first met Frisk, he hoped they’d not visit him too often. But to his chagrin, Frisk took an instant liking to him and spends a lot of time at his shop (and steals eats the fresh grown veggies). Now, he’s really grateful for that, because for one, he loves Frisk as dearly as he had his own children, and also because now the tension and mistrust between him and Toriel seem to grow smaller day by day.
Undyne&Alphys:
- I gave Undyne a pretty basic fisher’s outfit. Alphys basically has Elli from HM’s outfit, just a bit more doctory stuff added. She still has her canon lab coat too.
- In essence, Undyne and Alphys have 2 completely different jobs. Alphys is the resident doctor and Undyne runs the fish market.
Two things. Yes, I know Alphys is more a mechanic than a doctor, she fits the aesthetic though, so she’s the doc now. And no, Undyne being a fisherwoman is not cannibalism, think of it more as a shark hunting smaller fish.
- The reason I lump them together is because they act as the local “smithy”. Alphys is still really tech savvy in this (I mean, Mettaton is still part of this AU), so she takes on most problems with electronics and stuff. For Undyne, I didn’t want to lose her Royal Guard’s Captain image, so she’s really good at handling tools (and weapons, but Al doesn’t let her make them anymore). So basically, if there’s a broken tool, you can be sure that either Undyne or Alphys can fix it.
- As for relationships, those two are still an item. Alphys is still really shy and a shut-off, but since Undyne and Pap become best friends, she gets to know the skelebros better. She and Sans especially get along well, since most of the time Undyne and Papyrus are let loose, they sit back and talk about science-y stuff. (no, Sans doesn’t have a background in science but he’s still into sci-fi)
- Alphys has a bit of a strained relationship with both Asgore and Mettaton.
Back when Chara and Asriel died, it was because of “illness” (maybe poisoning?). Alphys feels awful because with her back then limited knowledge on medicine she couldn’t help the two. Asgore doesn’t hold anything against her but Alphys can’t help but feel guilty.
Alphys still built Mettaton’s body in this one. The two had a really big disagreement, because Mettaton hated the fact the town was going to close, and he couldn’t understand how Alphys could feel otherwise, even more so endorse the idea.
Mettaton, Napstablook, Mad Dummy/Mew Mew:
- Napsta and Dummy are pretty self-explanatory, they got straw hats. Mettaton’s outfit is a bit of a joke cos it’s a play on “work at the top and party at the bottom”. The tie has two different sides, one with the yellow red pattern, the other completely red. His “top part” is the business part, because when he’s on tv or in the mayors’ office, you don’t usually see his feet. The bottom is his party/dance part, cos his dancing/entertainment channels mostly feature his legs. 
- Mettaton, still a robot, Napstablook and Mad Dummy are all still cousins in this AU.
- Originally, they all lived and worked at the Blook Farm, the Animal Farm of this AU. Mettaton, however, despised that simple live and after befriending Alphys and her building him a body, he left the Farm to pursue bigger things. 
- Mettaton runs the local tv network. From weather to game shows, he does it all. He also runs the tailor shop in town that sells his designer clothes and merchandise. After Asgore stepped down, Mettaton also took over the role of town’s mayor and now works towards making the place more known again. Not everybody is happy with him doing that though.
- One of those people is the Mad Dummy. He can’t stand people anyways and he always claims that history would just repeat itself.
- Since the whole family is made of ghosts, they have different dummies and scarecrows they can use to take care of the animals. To mock Mettaton and kinda get back at Alphys for giving MTT such an opportunity, Mad Dummy found the blueprints for the Mew Mew robot and now modelled one of their scarecrows after it. 
- Napstablook isn’t fond of taking over obejcts like his cousins do, so he mostly takes care of the snails. Somehow, he can interact with them even when incorporeal. 
Muffet&Grillby:
- The two of them run the Inn together. Muffet cooks in the daytime and makes desserts, Grillby manages the bar in the evening. 
- The two still can’t really stand each other but working together like this benefits them both because their rivalry just spurs them on more.
- Even though Grillby is a patient person, somehow Muffet is the only person who riles him up enough to retaliate. (Well, maybe except for Sans, he’s a strong second).
So, basically everything between those two is a challenge in some way. Even if Papyrus doesn’t notice, even his cooking lessons are a challenge for them. 
- Even though they’re constantly bickering, after working together for so many years, there’s a strange level of respect and trust between them. Even if back when they first started this business, they’d pour salt into an already open wound, nowadays they’d know better and just take a step back from the other or even comfort the other (on very rare occasions only). 
Asriel&Chara:
- They be dead. Kinda.
Some Characters that’d live in that town too but that I haven’t made designs for:
- Gerson is the original smithy of the town. He’d grown up in a family of smiths, but he’d always had an appreciation for the sea. That’s why, when the town became more deserted and Undyne had a good enough skill level as smith, he took up the Captains hat and now mostly spends his days out on sea. He also ferries people to places if they need him to. Oh, and just like in canon, Undyne learned most of her skills from him.
- Burgerpants is a poor dude Mettaton basically kidnapped when he was trying to get fame in the city. Now Burgerpants works wherever MTT needs him to, be that as cameraman for the tv shows, cashier in his tailor shop or his slave secretary in the mayor’s office.
- MK is Frisk’s best kid friend. MK’s parents are in charge of shipping the goods out of town and paying the individual people. MK’s the one that usually collects the goods at the end of the day.
- Other than that, there are only a few people in town. I’d imagine the older folks or the really young families stayed in town after it was closed. I think the librarby dude would still run the library. Some Snowdin residents like the stone family or the dogs also might still live there. 
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the-blind-geisha · 2 years
Note
POV: Demiurge found your body pillow of him.
A/N: I would have an excuse though... XDD;; I have RLS, and ironically enough: body pillows help with RLS. *shifty eyes, trying to pretend that's all she wants her Ignis and Demiurge body pillows for*
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He was hoping to talk to you personally about plans he had regarding the farm he worked on away from Nazarick. If any brilliant mind could accommodate his own in this musings, it would be you. Assuming you were in your bedroom, he knocked three times before entering.
He gazed into the room, peering about curiously. “My Lady?” There was no sign of you anywhere. However, he did notice something was tucked into your bed. Maybe you were just under the covers. “My Lady,” he called out again, grabbing for the covers but halting when he noticed what was there.
Demiurge's words were lodged in his throat as a blush warmed his cheeks. A body pillow. He as well as the others were more than aware of them. A lot of novelty things from the world their Creators came from drifted down to their ears well in time. Albedo had been able to make many of Ainz, but the devil never imagined you'd have one of him.
He was flattered, but also as a demon's pride would have it—insulted.
You opened the door to your bedroom in a hurry, having been told he was heading there to speak with you. “D-Demiurge! What are you doing here!?” You tried not to sound offended, but you weren't expecting him to just arrive unannounced.
He turned, bowing with respect. “I was wishing to consult with you about my farm where I raise the Abelion Sheep. However, I must ask on top of such a request...” His words derailed as he gestured towards the body pillow. “...What is this doing here?”
You could hear he was offended, making you nervous. Hardly would you expect such a thing to upset him so. “I, umm... I-I had Albedo make it for me.” Hurrying to the bed, you tried to cover it a bit more. “My legs can sometimes hurt, you see, and this pillow helps.”
“If your legs hurt, my Lady, I can help you better than this pillow can.” His nostrils flared, taking in the scent of the item and the room. “Besides, I can smell that you use it for more than that...”
It was your turn to be embarrassed. “Oh, I tend to forget you have a great sense of smell...” You sighed. “Does it truly upset you that I own it?”
He fixed his tie with a flick of his tail. “I am flattered you chose me, my Lady, but I am here. In the flesh. Why would you require this when you have the real being to serve you as you so requested?”
That was far more a straightforward response than you expected from him. But, Demiurge was a demon. By all accounts, demons were selfish. You could have a shrine dedicated to them, but if you didn't at least beckon to them to have them fulfill your every sinful need, they would become upset.
You rested your hands on his chest. “Shh, don't be that way,” you whispered. “I can have you both, can I not? Besides, you are busy a lot of the time, Demiurge. When would you have time for me when you're busy running that farm of yours?”
He went quiet, thinking of what to say. The scent was overwhelming in the air. He couldn't ignore it. “Mm, well, I could escort you to my farm, and breed you as you so desperately want—with me and me alone, of course.”
Again, another straightforward response. You gulped and struggled to speak. “O-Oh? And how would you go about doing that?”
Demiurge's grin stretched unnaturally across his features. “I could give you your very own stall, my Lady—bind you in ropes and chains that can keep you off the ground with your legs forcefully spread for me to fill you as I so desire.”
“W-Well, that's very nice, but body pillows are also for comfort too.”
His hand stroked the back of your head. “Then I will rest under the covers with you whenever you so require me to. My leg will cradle yours while I keep you comfortable as well as warm throughout the night. How does that sound?”
It sounded wonderful, but you still didn't want to give up your body pillow. Even if for the real thing.
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god1ngs · 3 years
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━‎ ghost of a memory
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synopsis; the ghost of a man comes back.
contains; pogtopia wilbur spoilers, yandere themes, mentions of death, implied death, swearing, mentions of stalking, wilbur is a creep in this
yandere c!wilbur soot / reader, 2.8k wc
note; this is the longest thing i've ever written >:)) very proud of this
masterlist
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‎ ‎ ‎it was snowing, like it usually was. the layers of snow piled up on the floor only to get crushed down by your boot. you were on your way back to your house, ready to lay down and relax. days were hard now, especially since having moved away from the dream smp and l'manberg.
‎ ‎ ‎it was easy at first, but you were more lonely now. there was no tommy to come greet you in the mornings, or no tubbo to show you his new bee portrait done by someone else. it was lonely, only your presence to comfort you when days got too lonely.
‎ ‎ ‎you lived near techno, phil, and ranboo, but you never really talked to them. while you could hold your own, the angel of death and blood god striked fear into your heart. phil, although somewhat of an intimidating man, had been much different after the explosion of l'manberg.
‎ ‎ ‎you hadn't been there to know what happened, but it was something severely detrimental from what you've heard. and you haven't even heard that much. you heard of how l'manberg was exploded, but didn't know much else. there was a way people looked whenever you asked about it though.
‎ ‎ ‎you set down your things as you came inside your house, tired from the long day of venturing out from the snowy area. you had been trying to find some more resources, having been slowly running out of some minor ones, but wanting to have them nonetheless. sighing, you tiredly looked down at your hands.
‎ ‎ ‎you never went a day without thinking of what you had done with those hands. blood splattered along the calloused palms of them, rough from gripping swords and bows. you regretted your previous decisions, having worked alongside l'manberg. while you didn't regret meeting the people, the experiences would plague you for years to come.
‎ ‎ ‎a knock on your door brung you out of your mind, gentle and soft. it was unlike any of the loud banging from the war. you shook away your troubles, wanting to block out everything from your past as a soldier. you opened the door, hesitantly bringing your hand to the sword rested on your side.
‎ ‎ ‎it was ranboo. he stood at the door, taller than your doorframe, and looking down at you. "oh," you said, retracting your hand from the hilt of it. "hello ranboo. what brings you here?" you were curious, never having really been close to ranboo during your time at l'manberg. you two had become closer since you lived in each others radius, but had never talked for a long time.
‎ ‎ ‎"uh, i just.. i just wanted to ask if you've seen ghostbur. i haven't seen him in a while and was wondering if you have?" the dual boy asked, tugging at his shirt collar. ghostbur? your brows furrowed, a nervousness piling in your stomach. did he mean wilbur? he seemed confident about what he had said though.
‎ ‎ ‎you cleared your throat before speaking again, leaning against the doorframe. "who's ghostbur?" you asked, confused. maybe it was just a mess up with his name, ranboo was very forgetful after all. realization crossed his features, eyes wide. "you don't know who ghostbur is?"
‎ ‎ ‎disbelief coated his tone, shining in his eyes as well. the boy stammered, trying to figure out what to say. "oh boy, uh..." he exhaled harshly, scratching at his neck in nervousness. "do you know what happened when l'manberg was blown up?" you hadn't known much, but you did know what mainly happened ─ l'manberg had been blown to the smithereens.
‎ ‎ ‎"not really, i guess. i mean, i know l'manberg was blown up, but i don't know much besides that." you told ranboo, being confused as to why this was even important. he stayed silent for a minute, cautious as to what he should say. does he just tell you outright that wilbur had been killed and that ghostbur was his ghost?
‎ ‎ ‎he exhaled again, nervous. "well, wilbur is the one who blew up l'manberg and.. phil killed him after." he said, pausing between his words to see your reaction. your eyes were wide, throat dry. there was a deep pit in your stomach, a neverending bad feeling. "he's dead?" your voice trembled as you spoke, brows furrowed.
‎ ‎ ‎ranboo nodded, sucking in a breath awkwardly. "i'm sorry i had to be the one to tell you." he said shortly, hands clasped behind his back. you tried to shake it off, laugh and tell him it was fine, but no words could come out. "so," you spoke once you had finally grasped your words. "is ghostbur his.. ghost?"
‎ ‎ ‎he nodded again, rocking on his heels. "he doesn't act anything like from what the old wilbur used to, from what i've heard." he tried to confide you, however it didn't do much to help. you smiled weakly at the male, not exactly knowing how to deal with the information as of now. "thank you, ranboo, and uh, no i haven't seen.. ghostbur. i hope you find him though."
‎ ‎ ‎with that, he thanked you and left you alone for now. you shut the door gently before breaking down. you grasped your hair, sliding against the wooden door. he was dead? while you slid against the door, you began laughing. he was dead. you were gleeful. you laughed and laughed and laughed. god, he was dead.
‎ ‎ ‎you didn't know you would ever celebrate a mans passing, but wilbur was different. wilbur was.. obsessive. not only with control, but with you. you always got a weird feeling from him too. he was always with you somehow, always greeting you wherever you would be. he was highly protective of you and, while he passed it off as it due to you being a citizen of his country, you suspected otherwise.
‎ ‎ ‎your gleeful laughter masked the sound of the rustling bushes.
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‎ ‎ ‎ranboo hadn't known you didn't know of wilbur's passing. he thought maybe phil or someone else would've told you, not him having to break the news to you. you seemed awfully upset, he hoped you would be okay. as he walked, head down with a friend, there was a thought nagging at the back of his head.
‎ ‎ ‎recently, ghostbur had been acting different. he couldn't put his finger on it, but something was off. he tossed the thought when there was a sudden shout of his name. he turned, quickly, seeing the man of the hour. "hello ranboo!" ghostbur said, smiling warmly at the other. "oh, hey ghostbur." he replied, a soft smile painting his face.
‎ ‎ ‎the two talked for a little while, catching up with each other and seeing how the other was. "well actually, i think i left friend at phil's house, do you mind go getting him for me, ranboo?" ghostbur asked, tilting his head at the half and half boy. ranboo's brows furrowed, wondering why he couldn't go get the sheep himself. it was his sheep after all.
‎ ‎ ‎ranboo glanced back at his house, rubbing at the back of his neck before answering him. "uh, sure, yeah. i can do that! why can't you go get him though?" he asked, confused. he didn't mind going to go get friend, liking to help out his friends, he was simply curious. "oh, i just have something to do! it's nothing really, but thank you again ranboo!" the airy tone of ghostbur coated with delight, he smiled at the man.
‎ ‎ ‎ranboo nodded, wishing him a farewell, before walking away to get more food for the trip. finally. ghostbur smiled, turning to the wooden house you had gone in a few minutes prior.
‎ ‎ ‎he would have you.
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‎ ‎ ‎you didn't think that today would be the day you celebrate a dead man, but you learned new things everyday. you didn't celebrate per say, you were just happy the british man wouldn't bother you anymore. he had creeped you out when he was alive, but in death he couldn't do anything.
‎ ‎ ‎knocking at your door had interrupted your moment, brows arching at the door. hadn't ranboo just left? maybe there was something else he had to tell you. as you got closer to the door, hand nearly on the doorknob, you hesitated. why would ranboo come right back? it didn't make sense.
‎ ‎ ‎you put your hand on the hilt of your sword, once again preparing you for if you were to get attacked. yet as you opened the door, there only stood a man ─ a man who looked exactly like wilbur soot. from the hair, to the clothes, to the face shape; it all reminded you too much of wilbur.
‎ ‎ ‎"hello! i'm ghostbur!" the man happily introduced himself, smiling warmly at you. this wasn't how wilbur acted? ranboo had told you that ghostbur acted different from him. "uh, hey. why are you here?" awkward and a tad rude, you asked, narrowing your [color] eyes at the brunette. he only smiled.
‎ ‎ ‎translucent, nearly grey in color hands rose up to wave you off. "i just wanted to come meet you! ranboo had said you were a good person! here, do you want some blue?" fishing in his pockets, ghostbur pulled out a small clump of blue. royal blue in color, it made you somewhat happy to look at it. the corners of your mouth twitched.
‎ ‎ ‎you accepted the blue, gently getting it place in your hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he did so. you squished it some, finding a certain fondness in the way it felt. maybe he wasn't bad. "may i come in?" the ghost asked, tilting his head quizzically. could you trust this guy enough to let him inside your house?
‎ ‎ ‎you pondered the idea, considering the worse case scenario ─ which would really be just takes all of your things or killing you. you doubt he was able to though, he seemed way too nice to even think about it. he seemed trustworthy and so, without another thought, you let ghostbur inside of your home.
‎ ‎ ‎he thanked you and took a look around, complimenting your interior design with a warm smile. he had that aura, the one that makes you feel comforted in his presence. kind and gentle, he was the type of man to be gentle with anything and everything. he seemed rather innocent as well, a child like enthusiasm in the way he carried himself.
‎ ‎ ‎you didn't mind, you actually found it quite admirable. before the war, you had been like that as well. bubbly and warm, smiles that could outshine the sun ─ and now, you were alone, although of your own accord. you had to admit, it was better for it to be like this though. the war and other experiences you shared with l'manberg still haunted your nightmares, causing you to wake up in a cold sweat everytime.
‎ ‎ ‎"[name]," the ghost murmured, looking over the paintings on the wall. "these paintings are quite lovely!" you smiled, agreeing with him. the paintings were nice, as they had been given to you as a president from ranboo. he had magnificent taste, the paintings holding such beauty. you sighed softly, glancing towards ghostbur.
‎ ‎ ‎"hey ghostbur? do you remember anything.. before you died?" you asked, cringing at the question yourself. you assumed it was a question he got a lot, being the ghost of a man who was loved by many, but you couldn't help the curiousity arising in you. he only smiled at you, he always seemed to be smiling.
‎ ‎ ‎"only the good memories! i don't remember any of the bad memories wilbur has!" he answered, still staring at the paintings. he seemed to take a liking to them. you nodded, humming in thought as you glossed over the paintings. "you know," you murmured. "i never really had fond memories with wilbur."
‎ ‎ ‎you had never told anyone of your past experiences with the man, being too scared of being called a liar or saying that you were wrong. wilbur was a man of great charm and charisma, traits he knew how to use to gain what he wants. you knew this first hand, having been on the receiving side of the anger he never showed the public.
‎ ‎ ‎ghostbur was quite for a moment, causing you to look over at him. he seemed deep in thought, eyes nearly wide with a nearly upset look crossing his face. "are you alright?" you asked him, concerned. it would be understandable if he didn't like talking about wilbur, having been the ghost of said man.
‎ ‎ ‎"oh yes, i'm fine! can you tell me about your memories with alivebur?" he asked, looking over at you questionably. you nodded, sitting down on the couch, to where the ghost followed. he sat beside you, almost a little too close for comfort, but he did seem obvious so you chose to let it slide.
‎ ‎ ‎you told ghostbur everything. about how wilbur was a creep. how you suspected he was stalking you. how he had been possessive of you. how you saw a side of wilbur that was never shown to the public. how you never liked him. how wilbur was a deranged man.
‎ ‎ ‎he listened to you quietly, not talking as he stared down at his lap. as you were finished talking, going to ask him if he was okay, he sighed. he shook his head, tsking at you. this was different. confused you scooted away from him, brows furrowed. he only looked up at you, grinning.
‎ ‎ ‎"was my disguise that good?"
‎ ‎ ‎your mouth ran dry. your hands trembled, trembled with fear of the danger lurking in his voice. the madness glinting in his eyes. was this ghostbur? no, this couldn't be. as you stared at him in disbelief, shock coating his features, something started happening. he was melting?
‎ ‎ ‎the grey skin, along with the yellow sweater and beanie, melted off of him. it was like slime dripping, coating your couch in the gooey substance. it disgusted you, how it melted into a puddle of grey just below him. but that was the least of your problem, as the disguise had melted, something sinister lurked below.
‎ ‎ ‎it was wilbur.
‎ ‎ ‎unmistakably, it was wilbur soot.
‎ ‎ ‎the brown hair that bunched up, the dull red beanie atop his head, the brown trenchcoat that coated his features. you backed away, horrified. standing up, you tried to run, yet he only laughed. a sickening laugh that made you stop in place, eyes wide with fear. your feet were glued to the floor, unable to move despite your door beckoning you to run.
‎ ‎ ‎the crazed look in the mans expression would be one you would never forget. he laughed maniacally, grin wide with unmasked enthusiasm. "you really thought it was ghostbur!? that little punk, yeah? you thought wrong, sweetheart!" he shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls, surrounding your every direction, making it impossible to escape.
‎ ‎ ‎who knew you would be trapped inside your own house?
‎ ‎ ‎you could hardly find the words to talk, the phrases getting stuck in your throat as you simply shook your head. it couldn't be wilbur. why was he here? how was he here? the man, who you previously believed to be ghostbur, had been inside your house. you had ranted to him on your troubles with his alive state, unaware he was the one you were speaking to.
‎ ‎ ‎"you- how? how are you - how are you here?" you mustered out, your voice weak. you could barely make them out, quiet and frail. he laughed once more, throwing his head back with unfiltered euphoria. he was so joyous, so content with watching you fall apart in front of him. watching you break down was what he wanted.
‎ ‎ ‎"i always come back, sweetheart, you should know this." he said, smirking devilishly. he walked to you, triumph yelling with every step he took. you backed away as he came closer, fearfully backing away from the brunette until your back hit a wall. alarm coursed through you, desperately trying to look around for a way to leave, a way to escape the misery that would soon come.
‎ ‎ ‎he stalked up to you, stopping in front of you. he was even more terrifying up closer. the broad shoulders and the looming shadow over your figure terrifying you more than anything ever had. "sweetheart!" the pet name rolled off of his tongue, almost in a sing song tone. you hadn't even noticed the tears running down your face until he wiped them away.
‎ ‎ ‎"don't cry, don't cry," wilbur muttered, pulling you closer to him, bringing your scared form into his chest. you tensed, worry clear in your figure as you tried to fight back. you tried to pull away, muttering how you didn't want this. you didn't want wilbur to touch you, to hold you as if he was someone special to you. "why do you keep trying to pull away from me?"
‎ ‎ ‎once you had finally pulled away from him, you looked at him in the eyes. you were still backed up against a wall, knowing your end was nearer than you thought. you glared at him one last time, choosing to pick fight over flight, and spit in his face.
‎ ‎ ‎"fuck you, wilbur soot."
‎ ‎ ‎blood splattered on the walls seconds later.
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Musicians On Musicians: Paul McCartney & Taylor Swift
By: Patrick Doyle for Rolling Stone Date: November 13th 2020
On songwriting secrets, making albums at home, and what they’ve learned during the pandemic.
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Taylor Swift arrived early to Paul McCartney’s London office in October, “mask on, brimming with excitement.” “I mostly work from home these days,” she writes about that day, “and today feels like a rare school field trip that you actually want to go on.”
Swift showed up without a team, doing her own hair and makeup. In addition to being two of the most famous pop songwriters in the world, Swift and McCartney have spent the past year on similar journeys. McCartney, isolated at home in the U.K., recorded McCartney III. Like his first solo album, in 1970, he played nearly all of the instruments himself, resulting in some of his most wildly ambitious songs in a long time. Swift also took some new chances, writing over email with the National’s Aaron Dessner and recording the raw Folklore, which abandons arena pop entirely in favor of rich character songs. It’s the bestselling album of 2020.
Swift listened to McCartney III as she prepared for today’s conversation; McCartney delved into Folkore. Before the photo shoot, Swift caught up with his daughters Mary (who would be photographing them) and Stella (who designed Swift’s clothes; the two are close friends). “I’ve met Paul a few times, mostly onstage at parties, but we’ll get to that later,” Swift writes. “Soon he walks in with his wife, Nancy. They’re a sunny and playful pair, and I immediately feel like this will be a good day. During the shoot, Paul dances and takes almost none of it too seriously and sings along to Motown songs playing from the speakers. A few times Mary scolds, ‘Daaad, try to stand still!’ And it feels like a window into a pretty awesome family dynamic. We walk into his office for a chat, and after I make a nervous request, Paul is kind enough to handwrite my favorite lyric of his and sign it. He makes a joke about me selling it, and I laugh because it’s something I know I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. That’s around the time when we start talking about music.”
Taylor Swift: I think it’s important to note that if this year had gone the way that we thought it was going to go, you and I would have played Glastonbury this year, and instead, you and I both made albums in isolation.
Paul McCartney: Yeah!
Swift: And I remember thinking it would have been so much fun because the times that I’ve run into you, I correlate with being some of the most fun nights of my life. I was at a party with you, when everybody just started playing music. And it was Dave Grohl playing, and you...
McCartney: You were playing one of his songs, weren’t you?
Swift: Yes, I was playing his song called “Best of You,” but I was playing it on piano, and he didn’t recognize it until about halfway through. I just remember thinking, “Are you the catalyst for the most fun times ever?” Is it your willingness to get up and play music that makes everyone feel like this is a thing that can happen tonight?
McCartney: I mean, I think it’s a bit of everything, isn’t it? I’ll tell you who was very... Reese Witherspoon was like, “Are you going to sing?” I said “Oh, I don’t know.” She said, “You’ve got to, yeah!” She’s bossing me around. So I said, “Whoa,” so it’s a bit of that.
Swift: I love that person, because the party does not turn musical without that person.
McCartney: Yeah, that’s true.
Swift: If nobody says, “Can you guys play music?” we’re not going to invite ourselves up onstage at whatever living-room party it is.
McCartney: I seem to remember Woody Harrelson got on the piano, and he starts playing “Let It Be,” and I’m thinking, “I can do that better.” So I said, “Come on, move over, Woody.” So we’re both playing it. It was really nice... I love people like Dan Aykroyd, who’s just full of energy and he loves his music so much, but he’s not necessarily a musician, but he just wanders around the room, just saying, “You got to get up, got to get up, do some stuff.”
Swift: I listened to your new record. And I loved a lot of things about it, but it really did feel like kind of a flex to write, produce, and play every instrument on every track. To me, that’s like flexing a muscle and saying, “I can do all this on my own if I have to.”
McCartney: Well, I don’t think like that, I must admit. I just picked up some of these instruments over the years. We had a piano at home that my dad played, so I picked around on that. I wrote the melody to “When I’m 64” when I was, you know, a teenager.
Swift: Wow.
McCartney: When the Beatles went to Hamburg, there were always drum kits knocking around, so when there was a quiet moment, I’d say, “Do you mind if I have a knock around?” So I was able to practice, you know, without practicing. That’s why I play right-handed. Guitar was just the first instrument I got. Guitar turned to bass; it also turned into ukulele, mandolin. Suddenly, it’s like, “Wow,” but it’s really only two or three instruments.
Swift: Well, I think that’s downplaying it a little bit. In my mind, it came with a visual of you being in the country, kind of absorbing the sort of do-it-yourself [quality] that has had to come with the quarantine and this pandemic. I found that I’ve adapted a do-it-yourself mentality to a lot of things in my career that I used to outsource.  I’m just wondering what a day of recording in the pandemic looked like for you.
McCartney: Well, I’m very lucky because I have a studio that’s, like, 20 minutes away from where I live. We were in lockdown on a farm, a sheep farm with my daughter Mary and her four kids and her husband. So I had four of my grandkids, I had Mary, who’s a great cook, so I would just drive myself to the studio. And there were two other guys that could come in and we’d be very careful and distanced and everything: my engineer Steve, and then my equipment guy Keith. So the three of us made the record, and I just started off. I had to do a little bit of film music - I had to do an instrumental for a film thing - so I did that. And I just kept going, and that turned into the opening track on the album. I would just come in, say, “Oh, yeah, what are we gonna do?” [Then] have some sort of idea, and start doing it. Normally, I’d start with the instrument I wrote it on, either piano or guitar, and then probably add some drums and then a bit of bass till it started to sound like a record, and then just gradually layer it all up. It was fun.
Swift: That’s so cool.
McCartney: What about yours? You’re playing guitar and piano on yours.
Swift: Yeah, on some of it, but a lot of it was made with Aaron Dessner, who’s in a band called the National that I really love. And I had met him at a concert a year before, and I had a conversation with him, asking him how he writes. It’s my favorite thing to ask people who I’m a fan of. And he had an interesting answer. He said, “All the band members live in different parts of the world. So I make tracks. And I send them to our lead singer, Matt, and he writes the top line.” I just remember thinking, “That is really efficient.” And I kind of stored it in my brain as a future idea for a project. You know, how you have these ideas... “Maybe one day I’ll do this.” I always had in my head: “Maybe one day I’ll work with Aaron Dessner.”
So when lockdown happened, I was in L.A., and we kind of got stuck there. It’s not a terrible place to be stuck. We were there for four months maybe, and during that time, I sent an email to Aaron Dessner and I said, “Do you think you would want to work during this time? Because my brain is all scrambled, and I need to make something, even if we’re just kind of making songs that we don’t know what will happen...”
McCartney: Yeah, that was the thing. You could do stuff -  you didn’t really worry it was going to turn into anything.
Swift: Yeah, and it turned out he had been writing instrumental tracks to keep from absolutely going crazy during the pandemic as well, so he sends me this file of probably 30 instrumentals, and the first one I opened ended up being a song called “Cardigan,” and it really happened rapid-fire like that. He’d send me a track; he’d make new tracks, add to the folder; I would write the entire top line for a song, and he wouldn’t know what the song would be about, what it was going to be called, where I was going to put the chorus. I had originally thought, “Maybe I’ll make an album in the next year, and put it out in January or something,” but it ended up being done and we put it out in July. And I just thought there are no rules anymore, because I used to put all these parameters on myself, like, “How will this song sound in a stadium? How will this song sound on radio?” If you take away all the parameters, what do you make? And I guess the answer is Folklore.
McCartney: And it’s more music for yourself than music that’s got to go do a job. My thing was similar to that: After having done this little bit of film music, I had a lot of stuff that I had been working on, but I’d said, “I’m just going home now,” and it’d be left half-finished. So I just started saying, “Well, what about that? I never finished that.” So we’d pull it out, and we said, “Oh, well, this could be good.” And because it didn’t have to amount to anything, I would say, “Ah, I really want to do tape loops. I don’t care if they fit on this song, I just want to do some.” So I go and make some tape loops, and put them in the song, just really trying to do stuff that I fancy.
I had no idea it would end up as an album; I may have been a bit less indulgent, but if a track was eight minutes long, to tell you the truth, what I thought was, “I’ll be taking it home tonight, Mary will be cooking, the grandkids will all be there running around, and someone, maybe Simon, Mary’s husband, is going to say, ‘What did you do today?’ And I’m going to go, ‘Oh,’ and then get my phone and play it for them.” So this became the ritual.
Swift: That’s the coziest thing I’ve ever heard.
McCartney: Well, it’s like eight minutes long, and I said, “I hate it when I’m playing someone something and it finishes after three minutes.” I kind of like that it just [continues] on.
Swift: You want to stay in the zone.
McCartney: It just keeps going on. I would just come home, “Well, what did you do today?” “Oh, well, I did this. I’m halfway through this,” or, “We finished this.”
Swift: I was wondering about the numerology element to McCartney III. McCartney I, II, and III have all come out on years with zeroes.
McCartney: Ends of decades.
Swift: Was that important?
McCartney: Yeah, well, this was being done in 2020, and I didn’t really think about it. I think everyone expected great things of 2020. “It’s gonna be great! Look at that number! 2020! Auspicious!” Then suddenly Covid hit, and it was like, “That’s gonna be auspicious all right, but maybe for the wrong reasons.” Someone said to me, “Well, you put out McCartney right after the Beatles broke up, and that was 1970, and then you did McCartney II in 1980.” And I said, “Oh, I’m going to release this in 2020 just for whatever you call it, the numerology...”
Swift: The numerology, the kind of look, the symbolism. I love numbers. Numbers kind of rule my whole world. The numbers 13... 89 is a big one. I have a few others that I find...
McCartney: Thirteen is lucky for some.
Swift: Yeah, it’s lucky for me. It’s my birthday. It’s all these weird coincidences of good things that have happened. Now, when I see it places, I look at it as a sign that things are going the way they’re supposed to. They may not be good now, they could be painful now, but things are on a track. I don’t know, I love the numerology.
McCartney: It’s spooky, Taylor. It’s very spooky. Now wait a minute: Where’d you get 89?
Swift: That’s when I was born, in 1989, and so I see it in different places and I just think it’s...
McCartney: No, it’s good. I like that, where certain things you attach yourself to, and you get a good feeling off them. I think that’s great.
Swift: Yeah, one of my favorite artists, Bon Iver, he has this thing with the number 22. But I was also wondering: You have always kind of seeked out a band or a communal atmosphere with like, you know, the Beatles and Wings, and then Egypt Station. I thought it was interesting when I realized you had made a record with no one else. I just wondered, did that feel natural?
McCartney: It’s one of the things I’ve done. Like with McCartney, because the Beatles had broken up, there was no alternative but to get a drum kit at home, get a guitar, get an amp, get a bass, and just make something for myself. So on that album, which I didn’t really expect to do very well, I don’t think it did. But people sort of say, “I like that. It was a very casual album.” It didn’t really have to mean anything. So I’ve done that, the play-everything-myself thing. And then I discovered synths and stuff, and sequencers, so I had a few of those at home. I just thought I’m going to play around with this and record it, so that became McCartney II. But it’s a thing I do. Certain people can do it. Stevie Wonder can do it. Stevie Winwood, I believe, has done it. So there are certain people quite like that.
When you’re working with someone else, you have to worry about their variances. Whereas your own variance, you kind of know it. It’s just something I’ve grown to like. Once you can do it, it becomes a little bit addictive. I actually made some records under the name the Fireman.
Swift: Love a pseudonym.
McCartney: Yeah, for the fun! But, you know, let’s face it, you crave fame and attention when you’re young. And I just remembered the other day, I was the guy in the Beatles that would write to journalists and say [speaks in a formal voice]: “We are a semiprofessional rock combo, and I’d think you’d like [us]... We’ve written over 100 songs (which was a lie), my friend John and I. If you mention us in your newspaper...” You know, I was always, like, craving the attention.
Swift: The hustle! That’s so great, though.
McCartney: Well, yeah, you need that.
Swift: Yeah, I think, when a pseudonym comes in is when you still have a love for making the work and you don’t want the work to become overshadowed by this thing that’s been built around you, based on what people know about you. And that’s when it’s really fun to create fake names and write under them.
McCartney: Do you ever do that?
Swift: Oh, yeah.
McCartney: Oh, yeah? Oh, well, we didn’t know that! Is that a widely known fact?
Swift: I think it is now, but it wasn’t. I wrote under the name Nils Sjöberg because those are two of the most popular names of Swedish males. I wrote this song called “This Is What You Came For” that Rihanna ended up singing. And nobody knew for a while. I remembered always hearing that when Prince wrote “Manic Monday,” they didn’t reveal it for a couple of months.
McCartney: Yeah, it also proves you can do something without the fame tag. I did something for Peter and Gordon; my girlfriend’s brother and his mate were in a band called Peter and Gordon. And I used to write under the name Bernard Webb.
Swift: [Laughs.] That’s a good one! I love it.
McCartney: As Americans call it, Ber-nard Webb. I did the Fireman thing. I worked with a producer, a guy called Youth, who’s this real cool dude. We got along great. He did a mix for me early on, and we got friendly. I would just go into the studio, and he would say, “Hey, what about this groove?” and he’d just made me have a little groove going. He’d say, “You ought to put some bass on it. Put some drums on it.” I’d just spend the whole day putting stuff on it. And we’d make these tracks, and nobody knew who Fireman was for a while. We must have sold all of 15 copies.
Swift: Thrilling, absolutely thrilling.
McCartney: And we didn’t mind, you know?
Swift: I think it’s so cool that you do projects that are just for you. Because I went with my family to see you in concert in 2010 or 2011, and the thing I took away from the show most was that it was the most selfless set list I had ever seen. It was completely geared toward what it would thrill us to hear. It had new stuff, but it had every hit we wanted to hear, every song we’d ever cried to, every song people had gotten married to, or been brokenhearted to. And I just remembered thinking, “I’ve got to remember that,” that you do that set list for your fans.
McCartney: You do that, do you?
Swift: I do now. I think that learning that lesson from you taught me at a really important stage in my career that if people want to hear “Love Story” and “Shake It Off,” and I’ve played them 300 million times, play them the 300-millionth-and-first time. I think there are times to be selfish in your career, and times to be selfless, and sometimes they line up.
McCartney: I always remembered going to concerts as a kid, completely before the Beatles, and I really hoped they would play the ones I loved. And if they didn’t, it was kind of disappointing. I had no money, and the family wasn’t wealthy. So this would be a big deal for me, to save up for months to afford the concert ticket.
Swift: Yeah, it feels like a bond. It feels like that person on the stage has given something, and it makes you as a crowd want to give even more back, in terms of applause, in terms of dedication. And I just remembered feeling that bond in the crowd, and thinking, “He’s up there playing these Beatles songs, my dad is crying, my mom is trying to figure out how to work her phone because her hands are shaking so much.” Because seeing the excitement course through not only me, but my family and the entire crowd in Nashville, it just was really special. I love learning lessons and not having to learn them the hard way. Like learning nice lessons I really value.
McCartney: Well, that’s great, and I’m glad that set you on that path. I understand people who don’t want to do that, and if you do, they’ll say, “Oh, it’s a jukebox show.” I hear what they’re saying. But I think it’s a bit of a cheat, because the people who come to our shows have spent a lot of money. We can afford to go to a couple of shows and it doesn’t make much difference. But a lot of ordinary working folks... it’s a big event in their life, and so I try and deliver. I also, like you say, try and put in a few weirdos.
Swift: That’s the best. I want to hear current things, too, to update me on where the artist is. I was wondering about lyrics, and where you were lyrically when you were making this record. Because when I was making Folklore, I went lyrically in a total direction of escapism and romanticism. And I wrote songs imagining I was, like, a pioneer woman in a forbidden love affair [laughs]. I was completely...
McCartney: Was this “I want to give you a child”? Is that one of the lines?
Swift: Oh, that’s a song called “Peace.”
McCartney: “Peace,” I like that one.
Swift: “Peace” is actually more rooted in my personal life. I know you have done a really excellent job of this in your personal life: carving out a human life within a public life, and how scary that can be when you do fall in love and you meet someone, especially if you’ve met someone who has a very grounded, normal way of living. I, oftentimes, in my anxieties, can control how I am as a person and how normal I act and rationalize things, but I cannot control if there are 20 photographers outside in the bushes and what they do and if they follow our car and if they interrupt our lives. I can’t control if there’s going to be a fake weird headline about us in the news tomorrow.
McCartney: So how does that go? Does your partner sympathize with that and understand?
Swift: Oh, absolutely.
McCartney: They have to, don’t they?
Swift: But I think that in knowing him and being in the relationship I am in now, I have definitely made decisions that have made my life feel more like a real life and less like just a storyline to be commented on in tabloids. Whether that’s deciding where to live, who to hang out with, when to not take a picture - the idea of privacy feels so strange to try to explain, but it’s really just trying to find bits of normalcy. That’s what that song “Peace” is talking about. Like, would it be enough if I could never fully achieve the normalcy that we both crave? Stella always tells me that she had as normal a childhood as she could ever hope for under the circumstances.
McCartney: Yeah, it was very important to us to try and keep their feet on the ground amongst the craziness.
Swift: She went to a regular school...
McCartney: Yeah, she did.
Swift: And you would go trick-or-treating with them, wearing masks.
McCartney: All of them did, yeah. It was important, but it worked pretty well, because when they kind of reached adulthood, they would meet other kids who might have gone to private schools, who were a little less grounded.
And they could be the budding mothers to [kids]. I remember Mary had a friend, Orlando. Not Bloom. She used to really counsel him. And it’s ’cause she’d gone through that. Obviously, they got made fun of, my kids. They’d come in the classroom and somebody would sing, “Na na na na,” you know, one of the songs. And they’d have to handle that. They’d have to front it out.
Swift: Did that give you a lot of anxiety when you had kids, when you felt like all this pressure that’s been put on me is spilling over onto them, that they didn’t sign up for it? Was that hard for you?
McCartney: Yeah, a little bit, but it wasn’t like it is now. You know, we were just living a kind of semi-hippie life, where we withdrew from a lot of stuff. The kids would be doing all the ordinary things, and their school friends would be coming up to the house and having parties, and it was just great. I remember one lovely evening when it was Stella’s birthday, and she brought a bunch of school kids up. And, you know, they’d all ignore me. It happens very quickly. At first they’re like, “Oh, yeah, he’s like a famous guy,” and then it’s like [yawns]. I like that. I go in the other room and suddenly I hear this music going on. And one of the kids, his name was Luke, and he’s doing break dancing.
Swift: Ohhh!
McCartney: He was a really good break dancer, so all the kids are hanging out. That allowed them to be kind of normal with those kids. The other thing is, I don’t live fancy. I really don’t. Sometimes it’s a little bit of an embarrassment, if I’ve got someone coming to visit me, or who I know…
Swift: Cares about that stuff?
McCartney: Who’s got a nice big house, you know. Quincy Jones came to see me and I’m, like, making him a veggie burger or something. I’m doing some cooking. This was after I’d lost Linda, in between there. But the point I’m making is that I’m very consciously thinking, “Oh, God, Quincy’s got to be thinking, ‘What is this guy on? He hasn’t got big things going on. It’s not a fancy house at all. And we’re eating in the kitchen! He’s not even got the dining room going,’” you know?
Swift: I think that sounds like a perfect day.
McCartney: But that’s me. I’m awkward like that. That’s my kind of thing. Maybe I should have, like, a big stately home. Maybe I should get a staff. But I think I couldn’t do that. I’d be so embarrassed. I’d want to walk around dressed as I want to walk around, or naked, if I wanted to.
Swift: That can’t happen in Downton Abbey.
McCartney: [Laughs.] Exactly.
Swift: I remember what I wanted to know about, which is lyrics. Like, when you’re in this kind of strange, unparalleled time, and you’re making this record, are lyrics first? Or is it when you get a little melodic idea?
McCartney: It was a bit of both. As it kind of always is with me. There’s no fixed way. People used to ask me and John, “Well, who does the words, who does the music?” I used to say, “We both do both.” We used to say we don’t have a formula, and we don’t want one. Because the minute we get a formula, we should rip it up. I will sometimes, as I did with a couple of songs on this album, sit down at the piano and just start noodling around, and I’ll get a little idea and start to fill that out. So the lyrics - for me, it’s following a trail. I’ll start [sings “Find My Way,” a song from “McCartney III”]: “I can find my way. I know my left from right, da da da.” And I’ll just sort of fill it in. Like, we know this song, and I’m trying to remember the lyrics. Sometimes I’ll just be inspired by something. I had a little book which was all about the constellations and the stars and the orbits of Venus and...
Swift: Oh, I know that song - “The Kiss of Venus”?
McCartney: Yeah, “The Kiss of Venus.” And I just thought, “That’s a nice phrase.” So I was actually just taking phrases out of the book, harmonic sounds. And the book is talking about the maths of the universe, and how when things orbit around each other, and if you trace all the patterns, it becomes like a lotus flower.
Swift: Wow.
McCartney: It’s very magical.
Swift: That is magical. I definitely relate to needing to find magical things in this very not-magical time, needing to read more books and learn to sew, and watch movies that take place hundreds of years ago. In a time where, if you look at the news, you just want to have a panic attack - I really relate to the idea that you are thinking about stars and constellations.
McCartney: Did you do that on Folklore?
Swift: Yes. I was reading so much more than I ever did, and watching so many more films.
McCartney: What stuff were you reading?
Swift: I was reading, you know, books like Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier, which I highly recommend, and books that dealt with times past, a world that doesn’t exist anymore. I was also using words I always wanted to use - kind of bigger, flowerier, prettier words, like “epiphany,” in songs. I always thought, “Well, that’ll never track on pop radio,” but when I was making this record, I thought, “What tracks? Nothing makes sense anymore. If there’s chaos everywhere, why don’t I just use the damn word I want to use in the song?”
McCartney: Exactly. So you’d see the word in a book and think, “I love that word”?
Swift: Yeah, I have favorite words, like “elegies” and “epiphany” and “divorcée,” and just words that I think sound beautiful, and I have lists and lists of them.
McCartney: How about “marzipan”?
Swift: Love “marzipan.”
McCartney: The other day, I was remembering when we wrote “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds”: “kaleidoscope.”
Swift: “Kaleidoscope” is one of mine! I have a song on 1989, a song called “Welcome to New York,” that I put the word “kaleidoscope” in just because I’m obsessed with the word.
McCartney: I think a love of words is a great thing, particularly if you’re going to try to write a lyric, and for me, it’s like, “What is this going to say to that person?” I often feel like I’m writing to someone who is not doing so well. So I’m trying to write songs that might help. Not in a goody-goody, crusading kind of way, but just thinking there have been so many times in my life when I’ve heard a song and felt so much better. I think that’s the angle I want, that inspirational thing.
I remember once, a friend of mine from Liverpool, we were teenagers and we were going to a fairground. He was a schoolmate, and we had these jackets that had a little fleck in the material, which was the cool thing at the time.
Swift: We should have done matching jackets for this photo shoot.
McCartney: Find me a fleck, I’m in. But we went to the fair, and I just remember - this is what happens with songs - there was this girl at the fair. This is just a little Liverpool fair - it was in a place called Sefton Park - and there was this girl, who was so beautiful. She wasn’t a star. She was so beautiful. Everyone was following her, and it’s like, “Wow.” It’s like a magical scene, you know? But all this gave me a headache, so I ended up going back to his house - I didn’t normally get headaches. And we thought, “What can we do?” So we put on the Elvis song “All Shook Up.” By the end of that song, my headache had gone. I thought, you know, “That’s powerful.”
Swift: That really is powerful.
McCartney: I love that, when people stop me in the street and say, “Oh, I was going through an illness and I listened to a lot of your stuff, and I’m better now and it got me through,” or kids will say, “It got me through exams.” You know, they’re studying, they’re going crazy, but they put your music on. I’m sure it happens with a lot of your fans. It inspires them, you know?
Swift: Yeah, I definitely think about that as a goal. There’s so much stress everywhere you turn that I kind of wanted to make an album that felt sort of like a hug, or like your favorite sweater that makes you feel like you want to put it on.
McCartney: What, a “cardigan”?
Swift: Like a good cardigan, a good, worn-in cardigan. Or something that makes you reminisce on your childhood. I think sadness can be cozy. It can obviously be traumatic and stressful, too, but I kind of was trying to lean into sadness that feels like somehow enveloping in not such a scary way - like nostalgia and whimsy incorporated into a feeling like you’re not all right. Because I don’t think anybody was really feeling like they were in their prime this year. Isolation can mean escaping into your imagination in a way that’s kind of nice.
McCartney: I think a lot of people have found that. I would say to people, “I feel a bit guilty about saying I’m actually enjoying this quarantine thing,” and people go, “Yeah, I know, don’t say it to anyone.” A lot of people are really suffering.
Swift: Because there’s a lot in life that’s arbitrary. Completely and totally arbitrary. And [the quarantine] is really shining a light on that, and also a lot of things we have that we outsource that you can actually do yourself.
McCartney: I love that. This is why I said I live simply. That’s, like, at the core of it. With so many things, something goes wrong and you go, “Oh, I’ll get somebody to fix that.” And then it’s like, “No, let me have a look at it...”
Swift: Get a hammer and a nail.
McCartney: “Maybe I can put that picture up.” It’s not rocket science. The period after the Beatles, when we went to live in Scotland on a really - talk about dumpy - little farm. I mean, I see pictures of it now and I’m not ashamed, but I’m almost ashamed. Because it’s like, “God, nobody’s cleaned up around here.”
But it was really a relief. Because when I was with the Beatles, we’d formed Apple Records, and if I wanted a Christmas tree, someone would just buy it. And I thought, after a while, “No, you know what? I really would like to go and buy our Christmas tree. Because that’s what everyone does.” So you go down - “I’ll have that one” - and you carried it back. I mean, it’s little, but it’s huge at the same time.
I needed a table in Scotland and I was looking through a catalog and I thought, “I could make one. I did woodwork in school, so I know what a dovetail joint is.” So I just figured it out. I’m just sitting in the kitchen, and I’m whittling away at this wood and I made this little joint. There was no nail technology - it was glue. And I was scared to put it together. I said, “It’s not going to fit,” but one day, I got my woodwork glue and thought, “There’s no going back.” But it turned out to be a real nice little table I was very proud of. It was that sense of achievement.
The weird thing was, Stella went up to Scotland recently and I said, “Isn’t it there?” and she said, “No.” Anyway, I searched for it. Nobody remembered it. Somebody said, “Well, there’s a pile of wood in the corner of one of the barns, maybe that’s it. Maybe they used it for firewood.” I said, “No, it’s not firewood.” Anyway, we found it, and do you know how joyous that was for me? I was like, “You found my table?!” Somebody might say that’s a bit boring.
Swift: No, it’s cool!
McCartney: But it was a real sort of great thing for me to be able to do stuff for yourself. You were talking about sewing. I mean normally, in your position, you’ve got any amount of tailors.
Swift: Well, there’s been a bit of a baby boom recently; several of my friends have gotten pregnant.
McCartney: Oh, yeah, you’re at the age.
Swift: And I was just thinking, “I really want to spend time with my hands, making something for their children.” So I made this really cool flying-squirrel stuffed animal that I sent to one of my friends. I sent a teddy bear to another one, and I started making these little silk baby blankets with embroidery. It’s gotten pretty fancy. And I’ve been painting a lot.
McCartney: What do you paint? Watercolors?
Swift: Acrylic or oil. Whenever I do watercolor, all I paint is flowers. When I have oil, I really like to do landscapes. I always kind of return to painting a lonely little cottage on a hill.
McCartney: It’s a bit of a romantic dream. I agree with you, though, I think you’ve got to have dreams, particularly this year. You’ve got to have something to escape to. When you say “escapism,” it sounds like a dirty word, but this year, it definitely wasn’t. And in the books you’re reading, you’ve gone into that world. That’s, I think, a great thing. Then you come back out. I normally will read a lot before I go to bed. So I’ll come back out, then I’ll go to sleep, so I think it really is nice to have those dreams that can be fantasies or stuff you want to achieve.
Swift: You’re creating characters. This was the first album where I ever created characters, or wrote about the life of a real-life person. There’s a song called “The Last Great American Dynasty” that’s about this real-life heiress who lived just an absolutely chaotic, hectic...
McCartney: She’s a fantasy character?
Swift: She’s a real person. Who lived in the house that I live in.
McCartney: She’s a real person? I listened to that and I thought, “Who is this?”
Swift: Her name was Rebekah Harkness. And she lived in the house that I ended up buying in Rhode Island. That’s how I learned about her. But she was a woman who was very, very talked about, and everything she did was scandalous. I found a connection in that. But I also was thinking about how you write “Eleanor Rigby” and go into that whole story about what all these people in this town are doing and how their lives intersect, and I hadn’t really done that in a very long time with my music. It had always been so microscope personal.
McCartney: Yeah, ’cause you were writing breakup songs like they were going out of style.
Swift: I was, before my luck changed [laughs]. I still write breakup songs. I love a good breakup song. Because somewhere in the world, I always have a friend going through a breakup, and that will make me write one.
McCartney: Yeah, this goes back to this thing of me and John: When you’ve got a formula, break it. I don’t have a formula. It’s the mood I’m in. So I love the idea of writing a character. And, you know, trying to think, “What am I basing this on?” So “Eleanor Rigby” was based on old ladies I knew as a kid. For some reason or other, I got great relationships with a couple of local old ladies. I was thinking the other day, I don’t know how I met them, it wasn’t like they were family. I’d just run into them, and I’d do their shopping for them.
Swift: That’s amazing.
McCartney: It just felt good to me. I would sit and talk, and they’d have amazing stories. That’s what I liked. They would have stories from the wartime - because I was born actually in the war - and so these old ladies, they were participating in the war. This one lady I used to sort of just hang out with, she had a crystal radio that I found very magical. In the war, a lot of people made their own radios - you’d make them out of crystals [sings “The Twilight Zone” theme].
Swift: How did I not know this? That sounds like something I would have tried to learn about.
McCartney: It’s interesting, because there is a lot of parallels with the virus and lockdowns and wartime. It happened to everyone. Like, this isn’t HIV, or SARS, or Avian flu, which happened to others, generally. This has happened to everyone, all around the world. That’s the defining thing about this particular virus. And, you know, my parents... it happened to everyone in Britain, including the queen and Churchill. War happened. So they were all part of this thing, and they all had to figure out a way through it. So you figured out Folklore. I figured out McCartney III.
Swift: And a lot of people have been baking sourdough bread. Whatever gets you through!
McCartney: Some people used to make radios. And they’d take a crystal - we should look it up, but it actually is a crystal. I thought, “Oh, no, they just called it a crystal radio,” but it’s actually crystals like we know and love.
Swift: Wow.
McCartney: And somehow they get the radio waves - this crystal attracts them - they tune it in, and that’s how they used to get their news. Back to “Eleanor Rigby,” so I would think of her and think of what she’s doing and then just try to get lyrical, just try to bring poetry into it, words you love, just try to get images like “picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been,” and Father McKenzie “is darning his socks in the night.” You know, he’s a religious man, so I could’ve said, you know, “preparing his Bible,” which would have been more obvious. But “darning his socks” kind of says more about him. So you get into this lovely fantasy. And that’s the magic of songs, you know. It’s a black hole, and then you start doing this process, and then there’s this beautiful little flower that you’ve just made. So it is very like embroidery, making something.
Swift: Making a table.
McCartney: Making a table.
Swift: Wow, it would’ve been so fun to play Glastonbury for the 50th anniversary together.
McCartney: It would’ve been great, wouldn’t it? And I was going to be asking you to play with me.
Swift: Were you going to invite me? I was hoping that you would. I was going to ask you.
McCartney: I would’ve done “Shake It Off.”
Swift: Oh, my God, that would have been amazing.
McCartney: I know it, it’s in C!
Swift: One thing I just find so cool about you is that you really do seem to have the joy of it, still, just no matter what. You seem to have the purest sense of joy of playing an instrument and making music, and that’s just the best, I think.
McCartney: Well, we’re just so lucky, aren’t we?
Swift: We’re really lucky.
McCartney: I don’t know if it ever happens to you, but with me, it’s like, “Oh, my god, I’ve ended up as a musician.”
Swift: Yeah, I can’t believe it’s my job.
McCartney: I must tell you a story I told Mary the other day, which is just one of my favorite little sort of Beatles stories. We were in a terrible, big blizzard, going from London to Liverpool, which we always did. We’d be working in London and then drive back in the van, just the four of us with our roadie, who would be driving. And this was a blizzard. You couldn’t see the road. At one point, it slid off and it went down an embankment. So it was “Ahhh,” a bunch of yelling. We ended up at the bottom. It didn’t flip, luckily, but so there we are, and then it’s like, “Oh, how are we going to get back up? We’re in a van. It’s snowing, and there’s no way.” We’re all standing around in a little circle, and thinking, “What are we going to do?” And one of us said, “Well, something will happen.” And I thought that was just the greatest. I love that, that’s a philosophy.
Swift: “Something will happen.”
McCartney: And it did. We sort of went up the bank, we thumbed a lift, we got the lorry driver to take us, and Mal, our roadie, sorted the van and everything. So that was kind of our career. And I suppose that’s like how I ended up being a musician and a songwriter: “Something will happen.”
Swift: That’s the best.
McCartney: It’s so stupid it’s brilliant. It’s great if you’re ever in that sort of panic attack: “Oh, my God,” or, “Ahhh, what am I going to do?”
Swift: “Something will happen.”
McCartney: All right then, thanks for doing this, and this was, you know, a lot of fun.
Swift: You’re the best. This was so awesome. Those were some quality stories!
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redorich · 3 years
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For the canyon au, what would happen if one of the hermits got hurt during a scout? Like, if etho is out scouting, something happens, and he’s unable to message the hermits or get help. Would he be willing to be seen? Would any smpers besides Puffy help him?
Zedaph didn't mean to leave the canyon, honest! He was just looking for a sheep of his own for a completely ethical experiment involving pistons and a perfectly reasonable quantity of peanut butter, thank you very much. He wasn’t about to steal a sheep from someone else’s farm, and for some reason sheep don’t tend to spawn at bedrock level. So really, he had no choice!
Zedaph is rethinking a lot of his decisions. He’s also wondering if he left the jump-powered stove on. Then he remembers that it’s jump-powered, and as he is not currently jumping on it, it is most likely unpowered. Unfortunately, it seems as though Zedaph is going to be eating a lot of cold food for a while if he makes it out of this alive, because he’s not going to be jumping on anything with a broken leg.
Despite his punishment for trying to take a cross-section of something that he now knows is probably sentient (oops), he can’t help but want to go back, to learn more. What is the rate of growth of those red vines? Are they all from the same plant? Are they actually sentient, or is the crimson kudzu in possession of an automatic response to attempted harm? Did the vine know it was hitting him off a ledge which would break his leg, or did it just know “whack human away from vine”? Would the vines taste good in soup? Are they flammable? Could Zedaph theoretically knit a fashionable sweater out of them, and if so would the sweater be capable of independent movement?
He is torn from his musings of a wriggly evil sweater by another thrum of pain. He hisses. There’s... more blood than is advisable. Outside of his leg, that is. Inside his leg is likely less than the advisable amount of blood, and come to think of it, his head’s probably a bit empty as well, seeing as how he’s having so much trouble thinking straight-- well, straight for him. His jumps in logic are incomprehensible to most on a good day, but right now even he can’t follow his own thought process. What was he thinking about again?
Ah yes. The overwhelming pain from being yeeted off a ledge. Come to think of it, the ledge he fell off-- the one he’s sitting leaned against-- is shaped awfully unusually. It must be manmade. Whoever made this is not a good terraformer. Zedaph should bake Scar some cookies. Is Scar allergic to peanuts? Ow. Ow. Ow. Zedaph will need to borrow Impulse’s oven-- or he could set up his own oven with an armor stand that jumps for him?
“Hey there, who are you?” says a female voice. Zedaph looks up. He doesn’t have to look very far up.
Standing in front of him is a woman with a cool pirate-looking coat (red, of course; all self-respecting pirates wear red), with long fluffy hair like white wool and rainbow fringe! Oh, and she’s, like, half sheep or something. That’s cool too.
Wait. There’s something about sheep he’s forgetting... How could he have been so stupid?! He came to the surface in the first place in search of a sheep, and now he’s (kind of) found one!
The cool pirate lady says something, but Zedaph-- well, he does hear it, but it doesn’t process. Words are just mouth-sounds. He is in pain.
“Found a sheep,” he mumbles, “Come back to the canyon?”
“You’re hurt, man,” the sheep-pirate-lady says. She has pretty rainbow hair, and the white parts look like clouds.
She laughs. “Thanks.”
Clearly, this woman is a mind-reader! As well as a sheep. Really, two for the price of one. Zedaph isn’t quite sure what to do with a mind-reader, but his head will be much clearer and therefore able to dream up wacky hypotheses once he respawns--
He gasps, jerking forward and choking on his own breath when he remembers the cold truth. Xisuma won’t be able to respawn him, not for several days. Zedaph doesn’t want to spend that long in the void.
“Woah!” the woman exclaims, rushing to steady him. “You look pretty bad, dude. Let’s get you home or something. Where do you live?”
“Canyon,” Zedaph rasps. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, I don’t think. Can’t remember why.”
The nice woman goes very still. “Hey. My name’s Puffy. I’m gonna take you to the canyon. Do you think you can stand if I help you?”
“Puffy..?” Zedaph squints off into the middle distance, trying to remember something. “She’s the person who keeps coming back to that barrel, isn’t she?”
Puffy pulls Zedaph’s arm over her shoulder and gently pulls him up to his feet. “She is,” Puffy says softly.
“I hope she liked the enchanted diamond shears,” he mumbles.
“She did,” Puffy says softly. “She didn’t even know diamond shears were a thing.”
“I was going to make an emerald flint and steel,” Zedaph rambles, “but it turns out that items made of flint and steel aren’t conducive to being made of not-flint and not-steel."
"Who would have thought?" Puffy laughs, then trips over a vine. Zedaph makes a pained noise at the jostle to his leg, which is dragging a bit on the ground because Puffy is so much shorter than him. She notices this, and rethinks her strategy.
"At this rate, we'll never get back to the canyon," she gripes. "Climb on my back instead, I'll carry you."
Zedaph obliges, but warns, "Tango says I'm heavy.”
“I’m stronger than Tango, I’ll bet.”
The Hermit is actually a bit heavy, but this is a matter of pride now. And also, quite possibly a matter of urgency. The Hermit isn’t responding anymore. He’s still holding on, so he isn’t dead or completely unconscious; still, he’s not in a good state.
As soon as the elevator down to the bottom of the canyon comes into view, Puffy books it. Surely, in the canyon base, the Hermit will have healing potions? He (They? Multiple Hermits?) gave her a whole beacon, so obviously he/they are late-game enough to have plenty of potions.
Stepping into the elevator, Puffy presses the button, then puts her hand on the Hermit’s neck. It’s a bit of an awkward position, since his chin is hanging over her shoulder, but it makes her feel better to have a hand on his pulse. He makes a pitiful noise as the elevator descends.
“Easy there,” Puffy says, “you’re almost home.”
The moment the doors open, she ventures out into the village. The only safe place she knows is the barrel where she leaves her items for the Hermit(s), so she takes him there. Now that she’s looking, she spots shadows, eyes, movements, throughout the supposedly empty village. One such person comes out of the woodwork, sprinting.
“Zedaph!” exclaims a tall, musclebound man. His face is twisted in naked worry as he meets Puffy at the barrel, which she sets Zedaph down on.
The large man, who wears a black shirt with a creeper face on it (does that mean something, Puffy wonders?) scrutinizes the blond man on the barrel for a moment before springing into action, splashing potions and bits of lapis and-- holy shit, is that a Totem of Undying?! When the blond man, Zedaph, seems to come back to himself enough that he could reasonably eat a golden carrot with minimal choking hazard, the new man hands him one. Finally, he turns to Puffy.
“Thank you,” he says. The relief in his voice is tangible.
Puffy shifts awkwardly. “I was just doing the right thing. I noticed, uh, his bracelet.”
They both look to Zedaph’s wrist. It’s got a woven bracelet on it. The textile isn’t astounding, but the pattern on it is intricate. Puffy would know, she made it herself as a gift for the Hermit. As Puffy and the other Hermit look at each other, she realizes that he is also wearing something she made: a pair of fingerless gloves which are now stained with redstone dust.
He catches her staring. “We all have one-- oh, uh, my name’s Impulse, and this is Zedaph--”
“Impulse,” a new blond man hisses from behind the two. Puffy jumps. She didn’t hear him coming.
“Tango!” Impulse greets, suddenly nervous. Why a man as big as Impulse would be nervous when facing anyone, let alone a normal-looking guy like Tango, is beyond Puffy. Maybe Tango’s red eyes have some sort of significance?
“Impulse,” Tango repeats, looking around for anyone that isn’t a Hermit. “You’re not invisible.”
Impulse’s eyebrows draw together in a frown. “I had to see Zedaph.”
“Yeahhh,” Zedaph slurs.
“Besides, if we can trust any of the natives, it’s Puffy,” Impulse insists. He crosses his arms in what should be an intimidating display, but truthfully looks more like a pout.
“You know what Xisuma said,” Tango says. “I’m grateful to have Zedaph back, but...”
“Xisuma would agree with me,” Impulse says stubbornly.
Tango sighs explosively, full of nerves. “Alright, fine, can we at least get out of sight? Anyone could come wandering across the surface and spot us.”
“How many of you are there?” Puffy breathes. Everyone’s eyes snap to her.
“Twenty-four,” Zedaph says happily.
“Zedaph!” Tango admonishes.
Rolling his eyes, Impulse scoops Zedaph up off the barrel like he weighs nothing. He carries the dazed blond man down the path and into a cottage-style house. As Tango goes to follow, he catches Puffy’s eye.
“Sorry,” he says, “nothing personal. Just trying to avoid being explodificated, which means not being seen by the people who live on this server. You get it, yeah?”
He jogs off to catch up with Impulse, and Puffy hurriedly follows. Tango’s got a bracelet like Zedaph’s, but it’s one of the ones Puffy made out of different shades of red. She wonders if all the Hermits wear something she made.
The inside of the house is a bit cramped, but it’ll do. It’s got a bed, at least, so Zedaph’s got somewhere to keep his leg off the ground. This all feels surreal.
“So, uh...” Puffy says into the stuffy silence of the room. “How about that, uh, bedrock?”
Nobody has anything to say to that. Fuck.
Out of nowhere, yet another Hermit shows up. There’s a trapdoor in the wall that, now that she looks at it, Puffy realizes that Tango was hiding intentionally. That’s all gone to shit, though, because a man with white hair and a mask over his face peeks his head out from the hole in the wall.
“Hey guys, what--” The man takes a look around, spots Puffy, and freezes. “...On second thought, I’ll come back later.”
“Wait!” Impulse says to the man. “Get Xisuma, or at least tell him Puffy’s here if he can’t make the trip right now.”
“Karl thinks you’re Mothman,” Puffy blurts out to the white-haired man.
The man looks very self-satisfied for someone who’s only showing a quarter of his face. “Oh? Where does he live? For absolutely no reason, of course.”
“Etho...” Tango groans.
“Oh, alright, I’ll go get X.”
The man leaves. Oh boy, thinks Puffy, this is going to be interesting.
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