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guiltygearofficial · 3 years

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What are the characters like on social media?

Sol Badguy has only one Social Media and it is Myspace. He has two friends on there, one of which is Axl who made a Myspace before other options were available and the other is a bot. He only posts once a year to review a Queen album (all 10/10) or to post a picture of his motorcycle.

Ky is a christian facebook mom. He has a “No Swearing on my Profile Please” banner.

May sometimes posts pictures of the dolphins or group photos with the other jellyfish pirates, but she’s mostly here to play browser games. Flash never died in the world of Guilty Gear.

Zato is considered one of the funniest people on twitter, none of which is intentional. He posts shit like “Eddie ate a rat today...effervescent.” and everybody loves it. He isn’t verified so everybody assumes that he’s some kind of parody account.

Millia runs a beauty instagramm that’s mostly just her explaining how to take care of your hair when it’s A) more mass than your entire body and B) Alive

Potemkin runs an art account, where he posts pictures of the paintings he drew. Most of his tweets are garbled messes of text however, due to him being forced to author all his tweets in text to speech, since his fingers are too large for a keyboard or touchscreen.

Chipp has a twitter account on which he posts government reforms and anime reviews. There’s a 50/50 chance if his next tweet will be “We’ll be raising taxes on cigarettes and alcohol” or “Alter Memory didn’t really hook me. Had only one ninja. 3/10″

Faust runs a blog in which he gives medical advice to anyone who asks. Its become an urban legend that if your symptoms are vague enough, the blog owner will break down your door and treat you personally.

Axl has 20 different twitter accounts, all of which are from different timelines with different email addresses. Usually by the time he manages to log into one, he gets thrown into another timeline.

Kliff mostly posts really outdated memes like “Me and the boys awake at 3 AM looking for GEARS” while tagging every single member of the Holy Order.

I-no was a casuality of the tumblr p*rn ban.

Testament has a social media account on which he posts pictures of the grove and the local wildlife. He has only one person in his contacts and its. Whenever anybody else tries to interact with his account or comments on his pictures, they’re instantly blocked.

Justice used to have a twitter, Apparently trying to wipe out all of humanity gets you banned from twitter thought. She’s still active on facebook however.

Baiken only posts pictures of cool swords

Anji has nothing but sockpuppet accounts which he uses to join antivaxxer/flatearth conspiracy groups so he can debate them for shits n giggles

Venom only follows Zato on twitter and is sure to like and retweet everything he posts. Without fail, the top comment on everything Zato posts is venom saying “Banger tweet milord.”

Johnny lost his social media priviledges because he kept infecting the mayships board computer with viruses since he refuses to stop clicking on the horny ads.

Jam runs an account for her restaurant, doing her best to advertise herself on social media.

Dizzys page is filled of pictures she has taken with people around the Kiske household. It gained a lot of followers one day when somebody noticed that both Ramlethal who declared war on the world like a month ago and two kings of Illyria were in one of the pictures she posted.

Bridget is forced to make memes for Jams social media account. They’re the only reason anyone follows the account.

Slayer runs Haikubot on tumblr.

Zappa has found much popularity with the youths, due to them misinterpreting his posts screaming for help as self deprecating humor. Most of his posts are something like “My body is a screaming wreck being haunted by 12 different spectres and I will never know peace.” and every single reblog is tagged as #Mood

Robo-Ky runs the bakeries actually succesful meme page. Most of his posts are vaguely bread related deep fried images and weirdly horny posts. They have 200k followers but most aren’t convinced they’re an actual real bakery.

Bedman posts all his hot takes on the internet and has sworn vengeance against twitter for limiting him to 280 letters.He constantly gets into arguments with people, none of which actually engage him in debate due to the fact that everything he posts is atleast 7 pages long.

Daisuke Ishiwatari runs this blog

Sin runs a tumblr blog where he pretends to be Ky, making satirical posts bullying his dad for being a nerd.

Ramlethal made an account after Elphelt and Sin pressured her into doing so. She posts pictures of her magehound and nothing else.

Elphelt is currently on her 12th account due to the fact that she keeps getting hacked. No matter how many times she’s told to block them, she keeps falling for horny spambots every single time.

Raven has been banned from every social media website in existence.

Leo posts whatever he feels like at the time, which consists of rants about Ky, new definitions to his dictionary or pictures with whoever happened to be nearby in Illyria castle. There are three different “Whitefang Out Of Context” accounts currently active.

Answer does damage control for Chipp. Whenever Chipp ends up getting into an argument with another world leader on Twitter due to differing opinions on anime, he DM’s them to apologize. His actual posts mostly consist of pictures of his frogs.

Nagoriyuki posts pictures of his haikus on social media. While they are fairly popular in their own right, most of his fanbase comes from people thirst following him from that time his reflection was visible in one of his pictures.

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pigstepmp3-moved · 3 years

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holy hell, gamers, i finally reached one whole thousand followers! how bonkers is that! when i first made this blog in december 2018, i was just trying to start over in a new fandom. ive been active on tumblr for a looong time (since i was like 11, which is. not great, but we wont get into that). i cant remember quite why i decided to remake, but i never imagined getting a higher following than i did before, but i did! 1000 followers is bonkers, i’ve never had a thousand of anything! i seriously cant thank each and every one of you enough, whether you followed me for 911 or for mcyt or for whatever!

now, since ive reached this absolutely bonkers milestone, im feeling particularly sappy! so under the cut, i have some friends and mutuals tagged who are super great n who are always an absolute pleasure to see on my dash! <3 again, thank you all so much! (ps, if we’re mutuals and i didnt tag u in this, that doesnt mean i dont love and appreciate you!! i mostly am just picking people to tag based off how often i see them on my dash! i love all of u so much <3)

♡ 911 FRIENDS ♡

(aka the ogs, aka the fire fam)

♡ @lovelessmotel ♡ emily!! god, where do i even begin with how much i love and adore you!! i know youre one of my big sisters, but wow i am so proud of how much youve discovered yourself since we’ve met!! like wow, look at this epic, gorgeous person whos one of MY close friends! im so lucky to be friends with you! thank you so much for being my friend, i appreciate you and all the sisterly advice you’ve given me more than i can ever put into words!

♡ @eddiediaz-buckley ♡ sav!! mom!! i love u so unbelievably much!! i am so unbelievably grateful for you and everything youve done for me! all the advice youve given me and all the times youve let me vent to you have been so important to me and i cannot thank you enough for all that. im soso appreciative of you and im so glad that i have someone as amazing as you as my mom/big sister (we’ll never really figure out our fams family dynamics, will we?) (ps, whenever i go outside and have my keys with me, its always so comforting to feel the keychain you got me! its like my moms with me everywhere i go!)

♡ @liesoverthec ♡ bonbonbonbon!!! i love you so much, you wouldnt BELIEVE how much i love you!!! im so glad we met bc you are so unbelievably kind!! there is a very good reason a nickname for u is bonbon bc you are just as sweet as candy!! maybe even more so!! i love having you as one of my big sisters, you give such wonderful advice and talking to you always makes me feel a million times better!! i love you and i am soso glad i get to call you my friend!

♡ @marauder-girl ♡ sabsabsab!! i love u so much, u funky lil future lawyer!! im so proud of u and i can hardly believe ur gonna be my Lawyer big sister!!! thats so awesome!! i cant believe such a rad person is one of MY friends!! how lucky am i!! i love having you as one of my big sisters, youre so kind and funny and talented and your advice has always been so helpful to me too! thank you so much for being my friend and for always being there for me!!

♡ @nighting-gale17 ♡ cait, my love, my wifey!!! wowowow i love u so much!!! im so glad we’re friends, you are so unbelievably lovely!! youre also so unbelievably talented like??? hey queen wanna hand some of ur writing ability over to the unfortunate (like me). i’m so glad we’re friends, youre so sweet and even tho we dont talk as much as we used to, i still have SO much love for you in my heart

♡ @africaneuropean ♡ rae, my father!! i love u so much!! i know we havent talked at all in. who knows how long. but i still have so much love for u in my heart!! you are so iconic and cool and funny, im so glad i met you n became friends with you!! ur one of the coolest people i know, i hope i can be as cool and mysterious and wonderful as you one day

♡ @evaneddie ♡ DHYL!!! dhyl pickle i love u so much!!! whenever u pop into my inbox with random nice messages, every part of me lights up!!! u are so kind to me and for what!! i miss talking to u as much as we used to, you are so sweet and you are such a good friend!! i love u n im SO proud of how far youve come with gif making, i still remember when u first started n youve gotten SO amazing at gifs lately!! i love u soso much n im so glad we’re friends, youre so awesome!!!

♡ @basil-the-writer ♡ des!!! i love u so much!!! i know we’ve never rly talked all that much but im glad we have interacted in the ways that we have!! u are so sweet n so talented!! like the fact that u have the patience for those lil video edits u do?? that is so cool!! all ur edits are so cool, i cannot imagine being able to make stuff like that without dying every single time. u are so cool n i love being able to call u my friend!!

♡ GRIFF ♡

(aka griff)

♡ @yawnralphio ♡ u get ur own section bc u are my only 911 friend who isnt an og, but thats ok bc u are so swaggy!! i love being friends with u griff, u are so cool and funny and i am so glad that u still want to be friends with me despite all of the horrifying things u’ve learned about mcyt from me jdhfajkdhfa. i love u so much n i am so excited to get to know u more n get closer to u!!

♡ FRUITBLR ♡

(aka mcyt friends)

♡ @fear-epidemic ♡ atlas u are so swaggy and funny!! tumblr funny man!! im so glad we’re mutuals, i love u a whole lot. that one time u me n wilby played bed wars together was so fun even if we’re really bad! n that one time we played on the fruitblr server while on vc was so fun, i loved talking to u n playing with u so much, we gotta do that again sometime. i love u so much chapin n im so glad we’re friends!!

♡ @netheritedream ♡ hari my beloved... i love u so much. like literally so much that its really embarassing. i am so glad u tagged me in that one follow forever post n put the offer on the table to let me join the server. i love being ur dumb lil husband!!! jus like actual fundy, i would risk it all to watch treasure planet with u. i love u sososo much, i wish i could live closer to u so i could actually talk to u more often </333 im going through severe withdrawal, pray for me. im gonna stop talking for now bc if i kept going on, this post would be several miles along n nobody has time for that </3 just know that i love u so much and i love having matching icons n i love being ur husband, i love u so much

♡ @sootswilbur ♡ tommy... i care you so much. little bromther!!! im sososo glad we’re friends bc u are so kind to me all the time n u are so easy to talk to!! ur also so talented, ur writing n ur gifs are so amazing n im so proud of all the awesome stuff u make!! seeing u experiment more with ur gif sets n trying new things is so awesome n inspiring and i love seeing ur experiments work out!! i love u soso much n im so happy to be ur big brother!! (or one of them at least)

♡ @fruitbur ♡ virgil my Other beloved... i love u so much!! u are one of the kindest people ive ever met n im so glad i met u!! i know ive already told u this before but ur tagging system is so sweet n i love seeing u reblog my posts bc im like “yay alastair is gonna tell me that he loves me in the tags :D” i also lovelovelove ur theme, i love the soft pink and the lil aesthetic board that u have pinned, its so nice to look at!!! ily sososo much <333

♡ @theartofmining ♡ hey fruit ily. like genuinely, u are so unbelievably funny that u make my ribs hurt so much. i know we’re like never rly that serious but i love u so much. as much as i joke about hating u, i really am glad we’re friends n i really look forward to becoming better friends with u. i love u a whole lot rain, i love seeing u on my dash bc ur full of good takes n funny posts

♡ @sapnaplive ♡ dream.... bonks our foreheads together... i care u so much. my other half!!! i love u with my whole little heart. u are soso cool and im so lucky to be able to call u my friend!! ur themes are always so cool, i wish i could be half as cool as them!!! ur art is also so epic like??? u are a triple threat: good at art, tumblr themes, AND minecraft building. and ur also so kind!!! u are one of the sweetest people i know, i love u so much and im so glad im friends with u!!

♡ @dreams-little-kitten ♡ corn u are so weird and i mean that in the kindest way possible. u are so cryptic n i love that so much about u. ur like the wilbur to my philza sometimes and i think thats so awesome. that one time u came into my inbox to talk shit about that one cuphead boss was so funny and absurd, i loved that so much. i love You so much. i love how ur just so effortlessly funny, n im so glad i can be friends with u

♡ @dreamsmp ♡ JEL!!!! i love u so much holy cow. u are so sweet!! all the time!!! ur also so talented, ur gifs always look so good!!! i love being friends with u, ur always so nice to me n u always leave rly nice tags when u reblog my gif sets that make me so happy!!! i think about that one time u rbed my fundy gif set n said “FUNDY GIFS” and “GIFS BY FUNDY” it made me so happy!!! i love u a whole lot, im so glad we’re friends :)

♡ @leaguelol ♡ damien!! i love u so much u funky little cryptid!! i love when u pop into the gc just to share cryptic thoughts, u are so strange but i think thats so cool of u!!! i honestly see u kinda like a lil sibling, im always so proud of u when i see ur art on my dash!! u are so talented at art!! i love u so much n i love being ur friend, ur rly sweet n i love seeing u on my dash and in the gc!!

♡ @its5undy ♡ idk why im putting u on this, ur my mortal enemy. jkjk, i actually love u a lot clay! i love joking around with u, ur so funny and for what. im so glad u joined the gc bc i love talking to you so much!! i still love that one time u reblogged that fwt gif set n tagged me in it moments after I reblogged it. i love that u thought about me, that rly warms my heart! i love being friends with u sososo much

♡ @cavalreee ♡ oh hey, another great big fruit!! i dont think we talk all that often, which is a shame, bc ur so sweet!! and also so fucking funny, why is everyone in this friend group so fucking funny, its not fair. i love seeing u on my dash talking with ur other friends, u always have the funniest convos ever. also? ur desktop theme is SO epic, it threw me off the first time i saw it but its so swaggy, just like u!! i love u soso much azzie, n i hope we can talk more in the future bc ur so cool

♡ @technosoot ♡ i love u even tho ur a br*t /j /j /j. jannat u are so unbelievably sweet. im so glad u joined the gc bc u are such a kind presence both in there and on my dash! u radiate very Warm, Friend energy. ur friend shaped. i love u so much n i love being friends with u!! im very eager to become closer friends with u bc u seem like a really amazing friend to have

♡ @sortasortaspicy ♡ les where are u in the gc i miss u </3 i love u so much, u fit in so well from the very beginning n brought so much more fun and laughter into the gc. i dont know u all that well n i dont think we’ve talked one on one like. at all. but id love to get closer to u bc ur so rad and ur so sweet!!

♡ EPIC PEOPLE ♡

(aka mutuals who are so cool n id love to be friends with u pls talk to me)

@eurytherm ♡ @vampkings ♡ @weelbur ♡ @wilburtheesoot ♡ @quackityskarl ♡ @wimblrscoot ♡ @technofarmer ♡ @wooteena ♡ @bloodforblood ♡ @smpsapnap ♡ @literallynotfound ♡ @hearty-an0n ♡ @enderanboo ♡ @springbonniecpu ♡ @pandascanpvp ♡ @tommylnnits ♡ @strawberrygogy ♡ @timedeo ♡ @nymika-arts ♡ @h-isforhome ♡ @eboykarl ♡ @joe-alkaysani ♡ @betwecouldmakesome ♡ @squirrelstone ♡ @maddieandchimney

#hehe idk how to tag this #ive spent SO long on this post im so glad its done #follow forever #eden.txt

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bestsongby · 3 years

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New Thoughts on Old Classics:

Hotel California, by the Eagles. 1976

Is it Essential?

The Eagles (or, more specifically, Henley and Frey) were often viewed as cocaine-fueled El Lay misogynists. I think the cocaine-fueled and El Lay are indisputable, but is the misogynist tag a little unfair? Could be.

I’ve always been fascinated by Hotel California, the Eagles’ bazillion selling magnum opus, and how it plays with that perception in mind.

Hotel California is the Eagles stretching their powers as far as the rubber band will allow before it snaps or loses its shape forever, which probably explains why their only subsequent release as an active band was the lackluster The Long Run, a collection of half-assed disco shuffles and by-the-numbers rockers. (aside from barely an Eagle Timothy B. Schmidt’s heartfelt soft rock gem “I Can’t Tell You Why,” and barely upright Eagle Joe Walsh’s catchy as fuck guitar rocker “In the City.”)

For what it’s worth, the stretched rubber band theory is one I apply to most great rock acts who spend any time working under the Album as Art theory of record making. (acknowledging that there have been many, many Not Great bands operating under this theory) The Beatles wisely realized they’d reached that point with Abbey Road, and packed it in before the slope slipped. The Stones began that climb with Beggar’s Banquet, and went from strength to strength until they reached their apex by plunging back down through the depths with Exile on Main St. The Kinks bucked the trend to some degree by releasing one pretty brilliant and one almost pretty brilliant album after their ultimate statement of intent, The Village Green Preservation Society. The Who…well, the Who never really got there. They fooled the world into believing Tommy was their Everest flag-planting, but the truth is Quadrophenia was a better album. All of which obscures the fact that the Who’s greatest album is Meaty, Beaty, Big and Bouncy, a perfect collection of classic singles, few of which managed to tickle the U.S. charts.

And then there are the Loves (Forever Changes) and Zombies (Odessey & Oracle), who strayed outside their comfort zones long enough to produce single discs that stand up to the greatest of the Greatest, despite neither band ever really being truly among the Greatest. (and, yes, both bands were otherwise very, very good at times)

Whew. I digress.

Let’s start with this: Is Hotel California a great album?

I’d like to say it is, but it might not even be the Eagles’ best album. I think, assuming assessing a “best” of anything Eagles-related doesn’t make your stomach clench, an argument could be made for One of These Nights (the album that immediately preceded this one – which easily wins the battle of cover art, anyway). But Hotel California is the most Eagles of Eagles albums, and stands as the best summation of their moment in the sun. And, it marks that moment when tuneful music produced by strong personalities could dominate the American pop culture landscape like no other medium.

In hindsight, Hotel California, riding shotgun with Fleetwood Mac’s equally mammoth Rumours, stands as a signpost in a pivotal moment in pop culture’s de-evolution from artist-controlled playground to complete corporate takeover. The suits always knew there was money in the music, but, holy shit, this much money?

Hotel California is an arrogant, confident, pretentious, calculated work of fiction, and you can hum along to it. It’s dominated by Don Henley, but it’s the input of the other band members that prevents it from completely collapsing under its own weight.

So, in review, let’s start with the title track, which can almost definitely be tuned in somewhere on your terrestrial radio dial at this very moment.

“Hotel California” started as a killer guitar riff by lead guitarist Don Felder. (Fittingly, Felder, who primarily kept his head down and played the shit out of his guitar throughout the Eagles’ history, eventually became estranged from the band) Once Don Henley grafted his lyrics to the music, the song became the ultimate distillation of the Eagles’ Desert Cocaine Tableau. Most of the group’s biggest hits were pretty direct, lyrically. A woman either pissed them off, or a woman was invited to lay down in the desert with them. Or sometimes the women were left behind while the band wrote their own desperado inspired mythology. But the fragmented imagery in “Hotel California” could only really make sense if the listener has a straw permanently lodged up his nose. The Witchy Woman of the past becomes the hostess of a demonic hostel where pink champagne replaces wine and pretty boys dance endlessly in sweat drenched courtyards. It seems as if the Hotel California is a place to run to and to run from, and we’re pretty sure Henley is only lamenting the “mirrors on ceiling” because all of his coke is now going to wind up on the floor.

With all of that said, the interplay between the guitars is deathless, and even vague descriptions of driving through the desert at night are enough to conjure up personal imagery for anyone confused as to what “colitas” is (are?). (The fact that the Eagles played an acoustic version of this live is either proof that they’re assholes, or that, like Eric Clapton’s tedious acoustic return to “Layla,” they just don’t quite understand the reasons for their own success – Felder trumps Henley here, and that’s that)

With that out of the way, we catch our breath and listen to the gang take it down a notch (with the help of JD Souther – the Eagles were never lacking for talented SoCal co-conspirators, starting at the beginning with Jackson Browne) with “New Kid in Town,” which, damn it, is pretty unassailable, musically. It’s got hooks for days, lush production that never swamps the tune, and a sincere, understated vocal performance from Glenn Frey, backed by great group harmonies. What? The lyrics? Well, okay. The woman is doing him wrong (in the third person, for some reason – maybe it’s not manly to admit you’re the one being cuckolded?), and she’s not living up to her end of the bargain, and…

Okay, you get the point. It’s a Henley/Frey lyric.

“Life in the Fast Lane” (It’s interesting to note the band led the album off with Hotel California’s only three single releases – all smash hits, of course) kicks in next, and we’re reminded overtly of the cocaine. It’s a great radio rocker – guitar licks weaving in and out, featuring maybe the slickest production on the album, and Henley doesn’t spare the dude in the equation this time, letting us know that both parties are feeding each other’s sinful excesses (sex and drugs). It’s a tale as old as Los Angeles, and the spoken “are you with me so far” dropped in by Henley manages to insult the listener almost by accident. (yeah, we’re with you, Don! Sex and drugs go hand-in-hand with rock and roll, brother! Revelation!)

And then we roll into “Wasted Time.” In which Henley (boy, so far, this is really a Don disc more than a Glenn disc) strains to let the poor dumb broad who left him know that she’s done nothing but fuck up her love life by fucking the wrong dudes, and, most importantly, by leaving Henley. It’s definitely this type of sentiment that allows critics to glue the MYSOGYNY label on our heroes. It never occurs to Don that this girl might have made the right choice in leaving a dude who not only plods through an orchestrated piano ballad about the terrible decisions she’s made, but backs it up with an orchestral reprise to hammer the point home. (the reprise actually originally opened side two, just to make sure you couldn’t escape the sentiment by flipping over the album – the fucking Eagles led off side two of their biggest album with an orchestral reprise. Admire their balls)

The sequencing of Hotel California comes across as pretty messy in the era of the compact disc/digital album, with the “Wasted Time(s)” dropped right smack into the middle of things, and “Life in the Fast Lane” book-ending the song(s) with the next track up…

And it’s another Henley rocker (what demons was Frey battling in 1976 that allowed him to take such a backseat to his his white ‘fro-sporting partner?), “Victim of Love.” It’s a catchy rocker about…some poor dumb broad. I hate to harp on the cocaine, but how much of it was Stevie Nicks doing to think Henley was a fun dude to party with? Anyway, this one is another radio staple, despite never being released as a single. Truthfully, all the album really needed was “Life in the Fast Lane” to remind us the boys could rock a little. But here they slowed it down a notch in case you had trouble keeping up with them the first time.

And then, out of nowhere, we’re dropped into Joe Walsh’s melancholy reflection on life, “Pretty Maids All in a Row.” I can’t say exactly what the Eagles were thinking when they pulled Walsh into the band (”Hey – this dude makes us look sober!”), but I’d be hard-pressed to believe they anticipated his first recorded contribution would be such a beautiful, naked sentiment, punctuated not with his trademark guitar rips, but by piano and synthesizer. It’s a jarring shift in tone, helping the album achieve an eclectic vibe it was struggling to achieve with Henley dominating the proceedings, and all the more powerful for it.

Anyway, great track. And it’s followed by another great track.

Backing up “Pretty Maids” is, for my money, the best track on the album, and one of the most overlooked songs in the band’s catalog. No coincidence it’s a Randy Meisner song. “Try and Love Again” is a soaring, hopeful rocker, punctuated by Meisner’s upper register, and some truly uplifting guitar soloing. It’s a mystery why this track wasn’t released as a single, unless Henley and Frey were still annoyed that Meisner’s “Take It to the Limit” was the band’s first number one single. But it’s the one track from the album I find myself revisiting most often, without apology. It’s also worth noting that while Meisner’s lyric is treading on self-pity, he’s not blaming a chick for his problems.

At this point we’ve wound our way through a collection of hit singles, timeless riffs, and a couple of contributions from lesser used band members that stand up to the hits. It’s hard to say there’s a definite theme at play here, although California and Los Angeles are definite players on the scene. So it’s up to Henley, again, to hammer things home with the most pretentious track in the Eagles’ entire catalog.

“The Last Resort” answers the question, “What if Randy Newman didn’t have a sense of humor?” A confused history of California (and over seven minutes long, to punctuate its importance as a statement), complete with references to the “Red Man” and Malibu and all of those bright lights that sullied the landscape, presented by a group that pretty actively moved closer and closer to the neon the further their hitmaking prowess ascended. The song starts as a literal travelogue about a girl from Providence (”The one in Rhode Island”), and then slips into a reminder that California has really succeeded at excess, which is evidently a bad thing.

In the end, it’s all the preacher’s fault, anyway. One suspects that Henley (and Frey?) realized he wasn’t really headed toward any logical conclusions with this one, and the lesson we’re left with is that the missionaries traded the Red Man’s peace of mind and started us on the path toward…well…all of that cocaine and colitas, I guess. (it is a pretty tune, though)

And that’s it. Nine songs (split into ten tracks), three hit singles, and 38 million copies sold.

Is Hotel California essential? In terms of understanding the “evolution” of pop culture, it’s an essential landing point for those curious how Los Angeles went from acoustic canyon-dwelling hippie haven to the paranoid personal driveway for limos filled with coke-addled celebrities wearing sunglasses at midnight because the lights fuck with what’s left of their peripheral vision.

But in the battle of juggernaut Los Angeles pop albums, Rumours creams Hotel California because Fleetwood Mac can be heard shutting out the world and wrestling with their relationships while coincidentally at the peak of their songwriting and performing abilities, whereas the Eagles were trying to make statements without much to state. Rumours is essential. Hotel California sounds good when you’re not paying attention too closely.

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#Hotel California #Eagles #Don Henley #Glenn Frey #Joe Walsh #Randy Meisner #1976 #Rock Music #cocaine #Rumours

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crunkumbee · 4 years

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Lost In You

Yancy x Reader

Requests:

could you write a piece about yancy and y/n in the ending where they stay in the prison and after a while get together and it’s a very sweet and soft? love ur writing xxx

I heard you want fanfic ideas? If so. May I present the classic jealous Yancy? A new prisoner/guard flirts with the reader? - @just-a-werido

oh. my god. dancing. with yancy. just. oh my god. please?

Cuddles and stuff because Yancy is baby- @greemany

Could you write a really fluffy Yancy x reader?? Like maybe they're both super touch-starved and easily flustered and so there's a lot of embarrassed but sweet, blushy cuddles and physical affection??? Sorry if this is a bad ask but I'm just a SLUT for Yancy cuddles thanks friend💕

Can I request a cuddly Yancy x reader where he almost lost her due to a fight between her and one of the guys who thought it be a good idea to mess with his family? Like the gang instantly comes to her aid and Yancy is like ????!!!!!!! and instantly makes sure his baby’s okay? Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Holy goddamn you guys first of all thank you so much I am so honored that you all love my writing and trust me enough to write these!! Second um I kinda went off and shoved all of these together bc I thought they would sound good and yeah also sorry fics have been kinda slow its just been a crazy last couple of weeks with LITERALLY EVERYTHING and dancing yancy?!?!?!? HELL YEAH but please please PLEASE ENJOY FRIENDS LOVE YOU ALL!!!

Tag List: @i-am-a-weeb @arts-of-plenty @gay-matty-boi @brokequeenofcardonia @writer-of-camelot @pleasedontfollowmeimtrash @bxbamilktae @th3-n3xt-phas3-2 @animals4ever527 @janiceapex @ughsomething @go-just-me-fan @les-amis-de-l-ab-yeet @aheistwithyancy

Twelve years with the chance for probation. That’s what you were stuck with. Happy Trails Penitentiary wasn’t what you thought it would be but after what you had done, you were perfectly fine with it. You weren’t one to talk to new people so when it came time for lunch you sat alone in a corner and prayed that nobody would sit next to you or even look at you.

The potatoes weren’t the best you had but it was better than you expected and as you were poking at them you didn’t even notice the man that sat next to you.

“Youse is new here. I’m Yancy,” he extended his hand out to you. “I saw you walk in and thought youse was the best looking person in this joint.”

“Y/n and I’m sure that seeing somebody new has an affect on who you’re attracted to.”

He chuckled and god damn that was a beautiful sound.

“Youse might be right. But you should come sit with the rest of us. Hank even has wine for us.

Your plan was to just sit there in the corner for the next twenty years but when a man as handsome as Yancy asks you to sit at his table, you don’t argue and just go along with it.

You followed the man to the table with multiple other people and you were instantly overwhelmed once they all started to surround you.

“Hey fellas, stand back a bit shes new here.”

And so for the next few weeks you sat at the table and the other prisoners became like family to you. You and Yancy had gotten really close. He would spend most of his time with you whenever you could and he had a spare key to all of the cells so some nights you could sneak into one anothers cell. Sure he was attractive but you weren’t anything more than friends and while you would like for there to be more, you were perfectly content with how your life was with him just being a friend.

There weren’t many other new guards or other inmates. But, there was a new guy. His name was Lucas and he just wouldn’t leave you alone. It wasn’t until Yancy said something to him that he kinda backed off but you could still feel his eyes on you. Three days into his sentence you went to use the restroom during lunch. It wasn’t in the same room as the cafeteria but it was down the hall a ways and since the guards trusted most of the inmates, they would let most of them just go off on their own. As you were walking out of the restroom, Lucas came up behind you and grabbed your hips, only resulting in you pushing yourself off of him.

“What the hell?!?”

“Come on baby girl you know you liked it. Why would you want some pansy like him when you could have all of this.”

“Fuck you!” you yelled at him before punching him in the throat. You wanted to go for the face but he was a lot taller and a hell of a lot bigger than you were and there was no way you would have reached even if you had wanted to.

“Bitch,” he backhanded you and your face hit the concrete wall. “Kick her ass.” Lucas said to the two people who then walked out from around the corner. Of course they were both women and twins.

“Too big of a bitch to fight me yourself Lucas?” If he replied you couldn’t hear it because the woman on your left with short black hair punched you followed by the other one with long brown hair that was tied back kicking you in the stomach. It took you a moment to shake it off but you soon got in with the rhythm of their movements and while you were taking an ass beating at least you were able to fight back. At least you wouldn’t be the only one bleeding.

You had been gone for too long and while the gang told him that everything was fine, Yancy just couldn’t shake the feeling that you were in some kind of trouble.

“Hey Tiny, can youse come with me to check on y/n?”

“Sure thing Yancy.”

Together they walked out into the hallway where the restrooms were and sure enough there was Lucas laughing as two women were fighting you. You were holding your own well but you were outnumbered.

“I’ll help y/n boss go get that asshole.”

Yancy nodded and sure enough Tiny was taking care of the brown haired woman while you focused in on the other one. Now that she didn’t have her partner, it was a lot easier to take her on.

“Hey Lucas! I know youse have a problem with me so let's take care of it right here, right now.”

“I’m not going to fight you. You’re not worth the waste of breath. And neither is y/n.”

He could have said whatever he wanted about him but the second that he brought you into it, Yancy lost his cool. Nobody could get away with having people attack you then talk shit about you. Yancy didn’t think before he clocked Lucas in the face and he fell to the ground. Yancy was about to advance on the fallen man before he heard your voice.

“Yance, don’t. He’s not worth it.”

He looked over and saw you bruised and bleeding. You and Tiny had managed to knock down and keep the other two women down. It was then that Yancy decided not to murder the man on the ground. Seeing his way out Lucas got up and walked down towards his cell.

“Come here sweetheart.” You started to walk towards him and he met you halfway. He walked you to the guard where Tiny told them everything that happened. Yancy walked you to the infirmary but it just so happened to be the nurses birthday so she wasn’t there so instead Yancy grabbed things that looked like they would be of use and walked back to his cell which was closer than yours. Jimmy followed you both and once you sat on his bed and Yancy put all the supplies next to you he went out of the small cell to talk to Jimmy. The other man nodded before walking off and Yancy came back to you.

“Okay this isn’t going to feel good but just know that I’m not tryin to hurt you.”

“I know you wouldn’t try to Yance. Just get it over with.”

Other than you occasionally wincing when he would put peroxide on the cuts on your face (and him apologizing every time) he was gentle.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner for youse. I should have been there to help you otherwise youse wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“Yance. Don’t try to blame yourself for what happened to me. You and Tiny came to help me before it got worse and that’s all that matters.” you put your hand on his and neither of you were used to the closeness that you were both currently at but all that either of you knew was that you liked it.

“Let me put these bandages on you. Just be still.”

As he put them on your face you could smell the sweet prison cologne that they gave them and for some reason it smelled better on him than it did anybody else.

Suddenly there was music playing throughout the hallway. It was usual for this to happen and the warden liked to have music on once in awhile.

“Do youse know how to dance?”

“What? Oh no! I’ve never had the chance to learn.”

“Well there’s no better time than the present.”

He extended his hand out to you and for a moment you hesitated. You weren’t used to so much and prison wasn’t the place that you thought that you would find a family but here you were, learning how to dance with the most handsome guy in the joint. It wasn’t what you were expecting when you got 20 years for arson but now that you were here and in the moment, it was nice.

As you took his hand and stood in the cell with the soft love song that you didn’t recognize playing over the speakers you realized that this was the place for you.

“Just let me show youse what to do and follow my lead.”

He carefully and cautiously to his shoulders and placed his hands on your waist. And when he started to move you followed and it soon became easy to follow.

You looked into his soft brown eyes and smiled and that’s when the moment of realization hit him, there’s nobody else for him. The way that something as small as dancing with him made you so happy and brought out the beautiful smile of yours, and if all of that could make his heart melt then there was no person he would rather be with.

Just when he thought the moment couldn’t get any better, you rested your head on his chest. It was now or never.

“Hey, uh, y/n?”

“Yeah Yance?” “What would you-, uh see I kinda-”

You knew what he was saying and didn’t need anymore confirmation than what he was giving you in that moment. You moved your hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck to push his lips to yours. His lips were softer than you could have ever imagined and he was thinking the same thing.

You pulled away and looked him in his puppy dog eyes, “I didn’t think youse would like somebody like me but I’ve been lost in you since the day you showed up.”

“I was going to say the same thing about you.”

“If I talked to the warden, would youse like to share a cell so we don’t have to sneak around every night?”

“If he allows that, I would love to.”

“Good because I talked to him this morning and he says that as long as we don’t get into a fight with each other then he doesn’t care.”

#my writing #markiplier #markiplier x reader #yancy #yancy x reader #markiplier yancy #AHWM #a heist with markiplier #AHWM spoilers #a heist with markiplier spoilers

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dropitdoeeyes · 5 months

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a freshly mechanized baby drumbo bee

[ID: A digital drawing of a younger Drumbot Brian from The Mechanisms playing the drums. Brian is a coppery robot with short curly hair who’s wearing a collared light blue shirt and a stripy brown vest. The background is minimally colored, with only a few blobs of color on Brian’s drumset. End ID.]

#the mechanisms #the mechs #drumbot brian #holy shit its a des art tag #hii its been ages since weve last done art #but im thinking about her (my wife drumbot brian)

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wolfstar-recs2019 · 4 years

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Interim List Of Nominees 🎉

Below you’ll find the list of current nominees. Congratulations to everyone!

There is time till January 1st to submit your nominees. Check this post for more info.

Titles of nominated works are links to the pages, where you can check them out. Please, note that we specifically tagged only #nsfw art. Other tw/cw (if there are any) are tagged on the original posts only.

drumroll

The List Of Nominees

Fanfiction

Author Of The Year: @jennandblitz; @marlenemckinn ; @atyd-wolfstar; @lumosinlove; @curlyremus ; @letsdothepanic; @maraudererasmut

Headcanons Writer Of The Year : @siriushpads ; @incorrectmarauders ; @goodboylupin ; @modern-wolfstar ; @maraudererasmut ; @confunded-gryffindor

Wolfstar Series Of The Year : Rock 'n' Pole by @jennandblitz and @marlenemckinn; Marauder Ink by @jennandblitz; The Marauders' Map by @stonecoldhedwig; Blends!verse by rvltn909*; Chicken Man by @confunded-gryffindor; A/S/L by @maraudererasmut;

Wolfstar Multi-Chapter Award 2019 : Marauder Ink by @jennandblitz; Of Masters and Slaves by @jencala; We Were Infinite by @captofthesswolfstar; Distant Stars by @of-stars-and-moon; Solntse by @lumosinlove; Liebestraum by @quoththethestral; Taste by @jennandblitz; A/S/L by @maraudererasmut; IRL by @maraudererasmut; The Other Side of Sorrow by @thehufflebean; keysmash by @wishingitwerewolfstar; Dog Filled Days Aren't Over by @jlpierre; Dress up in You by @atyd-wolfstar

Wolfstar One Shot Award 2019: The Treasuries of Firenze by @jennandblitz; Fire On Fire by @wolfstargarden; Temptation by @curlyremus; When I'm With You by @purplechimera8; Insomnia by @january3693; The Heir by @remus-john-lupin

Wolfstar Flash Fic Award 2019 (under 500 words): Secrets by @evax3; The Watch by @maraudererasmut; Familiar by @yumenouveau

Wolfstar Collaboration Of The Year : Rock 'n' Pole by @marlenemckinn, @jennandblitz; Sugar Maple by @maraudererasmut, @purplechimera8; Ain't Together by @marlenemckinn, @jennandblitz;

Best Wolfstar As Secondary Ship In Fic Award 2019: Maybe I Waited Too Long - A Marauders Medical AU by @blitheringmcgonagall; The Reclamation of Black Magic by @shayalonnie

Favourite Wolfstar/Anyone Award 2019 : Never Have I Ever... (Wolfstarbucks) by @jennandblitz ; I'd get on my knees (Wolfstarbucks) by @letsdothepanic

Wolfstar Canonverse Award 2019: We Were Infinite by @captofthesswolfstar; We Can Be Heroes by @blitheringmcgonagall;

Wolfstar Magical AU Award 2019: Someone We Used to Know by @january3693

Wolfstar Muggle/Modern AU Award 2019: Dress up in You by @atyd-wolfstar; Marauder Ink by @jennandblitz; Chicken Man by @confunded-gryffindor; Liebestraum by @quoththethestral; SHAME by @bringblackback; Primavera by @quoththethestral; Constellations by @curlyremus; Pas de Deux in the Upper West Side by @bringblackback; Fire On Fire by @wolfstargarden; Hepburn Avenue by @stonecoldhedwig; A/S/L by @maraudererasmut; Ain't Together by @marlenemckinn and @jennandblitz

Wolfstar Cross-Universe Award 2019 : Excommunicado by @yumenouveau; The Treasuries of Firenze by @jennandblitz

Wolfstar Classic Tropes Award 2019: Insomnia by @january3693; Troubles in Bed Sharing by @kattlupin;

Wolfstar Comedy In Fic Award 2019: Hepburn Avenue by @stonecoldhedwig; Caraway Street by @stonecoldhedwig; Life Finds a Way by @confunded-gryffindor; Totally Tropical Remus in The Caribbean by @wolfstargarden; Moony's Mattresses by @starstruck4moony; SHAME by @bringblackback

Wolfstar Angst Award 2019: Not Anymore by @holy-shit-its-wolfstar, Constellations by @curlyremus; SHAME by @bringblackback; The Treasuries of Firenze by @jennandblitz; Hollow by @letsdothepanic; The Moon that Breaks by @thehufflebean; Notes by @ashes-and-ashes-dust-and-dust;

Wolfstar Fluff Award 2019: Til the Very End by @jencala; Wouldn't It Be Nice? by @marlenemckinn and @jennandblitz; It Takes Four to Tango by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world

Wolfstar Smut Award 2019: Pas de Deux in the Upper West Side by @bringblackback; Primavera by @quoththethestral; My Own Secret Ceremonials by @jennandblitz; Subatomic @ebp-brain; A Night Out by @maraudererasmut; The Suit by @maraudererasmut; Black Glitter by @jennandblitz; A/S/L by @maraudererasmut; Of Masters and Slaves @jencala

Favourite Sirius Black Characterisation Of 2019: Liebestraum by @quoththethestral ; Names by rvltn909* ; Taste by @jennandblitz ; SHAME by @bringblackback

Favourite Remus Lupin Characterisation Of 2019: Liebestraum by @quoththethestral; Names by rvltn909* ; Pas de Deux in the Upper West Side by @bringblackback; A/S/L by @maraudererasmut; IRL by @maraudererasmut; Dog Filled Days Aren't Over by @jlpierre; Primavera by @quoththethestral

Beta Of The Year : @jennandblitz

Art

Artist Of The Year: @yumenouveau; @gulliblegoldfish; @littlebitellie; @filesia; @meekinthedraw; @maraudererasmut; @art-of-ame; @gibbarts

Wolfstar Artwork Of The Year**: A little fun in the common room by @maraudererasmut cw:nsfw; no title by @maraudererasmut cw:nsfw; illustration for Taste by @jennandblitz by @yumenouveau; <3</a> by @filesia; Kicking off pride month with some wolfstar by @gulliblegoldfish

Favourite Sirius Black Portrayal (character design) Of 2019**: first war design by @meekinthedraw

Favourite Remus Lupin Portrayal (character design) Of 2019**: Remus Lupin by @softsiriusblack; Gryffindors are cool and werewolves are even cooler by @gulliblegoldfish

Wolfstar Micro-Story In Art Award 2019**: ‘lie low at lupin’s’ by @meekinthedraw; Prongs stop being salty you will get the girl (dialogue by @asktheblacksheep) by siriuslymischief (insta); au : photographer & football player by @modern-wolfstar; I call this catharsis by @art-of-ame

Wolfstar Aesthetic Of The Year**: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin by @malfoy

Role play/cosplay

Shapeshifter Of The Year: @softsiriusblack; @transaurus; @praecipiopatronum

Favourite Sirius Black Impersonation Of 2019: Sirius Black by @softsiriusblack; Sirius Black by @megathy-two; Sirius Black by @mymischiefisnevermanaged; Siri by @askyourlocalhufflepuff; Sirius Black by @olivandersdaughter; Sirius Black by @asktheboywholived

Favourite Remus Lupin Impersonation Of 2019: Remus Lupin by @praecipiopatronum; Remus Lupin by @stjernfaerie; Remus Lupin by @tired-lupin; Remus Lupin by @jenlizrose; Remus Lupin by @megathy-two; Remus Lupin by @anarrayofwits; Remus Lupin by @prettylestrange; Remus Lupin by @ask-the--stars

Wolfstar Gif Thread Of The Year: Congratulations by @softsiriusblack, @bringblackback @nikkyzaziki @praecipiopatronum; Welcome aboard by @softsiriusblack @the-moon-and-stars-my-love @praecipiopatronum; Super blue moon by @asktheboywholived

Wolfstar Best Scenario For Gif Thread Award 2019: Congratulations by @praecipiopatronum; Welcome aboard by @praecipiopatronum; Mirror Mirror by @mymischiefisnevermanaged; REMUS! REMUS, I HATE THIS THING! PLEASE GET RID OF IT! by @olivandersdaughter

Most Hilarious Thread/Gif Award 2019: Jumpers and Jackets by @transaurus @slytherinsiriusblack @prettylestrange @askyourlocalhufflepuff @amortentiando; The true-truth by @scamandergenes @megathy-two; Remus Brings Home A Pet… by @olivandersdaughter @sirussly; Remus’ Schedule by @prettylestrange

Best Makeup Award 2019: Remus Lupin by @jenlizrose; Sirius Black by @muirin007; Remus Lupin by @asktheboywholived

Best Costume Award 2019: Pirate!Remus Lupin by @praecipiopatronum

* - if you know the tumblr accounts of these authors, please, tag them in the comments

** - if you are the author of the nominated work and you don’t agree with the title chosen for the list (or have an alternative one), please contact us with your suggestions. We’ll gladly make edits

Congratulations ! Y'all are so talented and did a great job this year!

Special thanks to everyone who took time to submit nominees!

We'll try to make separate posts for each nominee to make it easier to take a closer look.

If you have any questions/suggestions, please message us.

Love,

Dumbledorks

#wolfstarawards2019 #interim list of nominees #nominees #wolfstar #wolfstar fandom #harry potter

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fakeahbitch · 6 years

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AH Origins: From the Ashes

Read the drabbles so far

Guess who’s back with a full queue and fics to post. As always, prompts and headcanons are welcome and encouraged.

In which the warehouse burns and the crew feels the burn.

The fire had spread through most of the eastern docks. The origin of the fire was a mystery, one which the cops and fire service had folded neatly and placed in the Never to be Solved box. The smoke billowed for most of the night, clouding the midnight blue horizon with charcoal smears, illuminated by vivid strokes of orange.

In the light of dawn, the eastern dock stood silent. In the ashes of their former headquarters, the Fake AH Crew stood.

Geoff scooped up a pile of dust, squeezed it tight in his palm. ‘I need answers.’

Gavin was the only one brave enough to speak. ‘I can pull surveillance from the cloud. But if this is a professional job, they’re not gonna be wearing name tags. All our tech—’

‘Tech? You think that’s how we did things in the old days? The OG days? We didn’t use our instasnaps and facebooks to look up rival gangs. We used our smarts. Are you an idiot? Is that what you’re telling me? Have I hired a bunch of idiots?’

‘Alright, calm down—’

‘You don’t speak to me like that! I’m the leader of this crew.’

‘Then fucking lead us!’ Michael growled. ‘Instead of getting all pissy that this happened! Boohoo, your stuff got lost. Who gives a shit? Build a bridge and keep building them until you grow the fuck up! This isn’t our fault.’

‘I didn’t fucking say it was!’

The smouldering stench of rubble and burnt wood washed over them as the kindling scraps of paper danced on the gentle morning sea breeze. Rage was ignited deep in both men; the cool blue of the older clashed with the dark brown of the other, neither backing down from the glare.

Michael snorted. ‘Fuck this. Pulled me out of bed for this… come on, guys.’

He huffed his chest and stormed off. It took only seconds for Gavin to spin on his heels and follow. Ray paused momentarily, then followed suit.

Geoff had noticed this rift between them before; the OG and the new generation. They were young, inexperienced and fiery; children of carnage who had grown only in years. Then there was himself and Jack, who had refined their crimes and abilities to an art form. Ryan, who was not born in to this lifestyle, but had carved his place as a gentleman of the crime syndicates.

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘We done then?’

‘I guess so.’ The weight of the world on his shoulders paled to the weight of regret on his heart.

‘For good?’ Ryan asked.

‘… We built up from this last time. Maybe not as literally as this, but we can do it again. A rebranding.’

‘Faker AH Crew?’ Jack asked drily.

‘Hilarious. Ryan, come with us. We’re going shopping. But first, breakfast.’

The lads sat in the bar, nursing two jacks and coke between them: one for Gavin, jack for Michael, coke for Ray. It was 4:30 a.m. in Los Santos, and as the bar closed around them, they christened in the new morning with a solemn drink.

‘Fucking asshole,’ Michael muttered. He has said that so much this morning that it had lost its meaning.

‘I mean, I can pull the stuff from the cloud still. We can look… Find the tossers who did this.’

‘Easy with the swears there, Gavvy,’ Ray said. ‘This is a classy establishment. They got three glory holes, which is more than they got on their last health inspection.’

Gavin gagged. ‘WHAT?’

Michael slammed his drink down. ‘It doesn’t matter if we find them. We can kill them, get pay back, ask them to fucking prom or whatever—it doesn’t change the fact that we’re done. Geoff is a dick. The HQ is gone. He’s given up and we need to move on.’

‘I don’t want to. Neither do you. It’s a bad night. One bad night is not a reason to give up. We were going to be on top.’

Michael snatched his keys from the table. ‘And they all lived happily ever after. I’m going back to bed. Can’t believe I woke up for this. Later, nerds.’

It was noon when the familiar chirp of his cellphone roused Michael from his slumber. He groaned and rolled over.

‘What?’

‘Good morning to you too, sunshine. I’ve text you an address. Rendezvous there in 30 minutes. Bring your stuff.’

‘My stuff?’

‘And bring change for parking. Meter maids are a real bitch round there.’

The neighbourhood was swanky. It was kind of place where the butlers had a butler, and the pavements were never caked with gum. The roar of Michael’s motorbike was an unwelcome interlude in the symphony of jaguars on the streets and chinking tea cups of the overprices bistros on the sidewalk. Ivy climbed the walls and gold accented the buildings.

Michael pulled over at the glass tower. The building had a doorman and a concierge, both of whom were looking at him.

‘Am I meant to rob the Tipton Hotel?’

The concierge hurried over. ‘You must be Mr Jones.’

‘Must I be?’

‘I was told to look out for the… motorbike and accent. Your party has already arrived. Please, allow me to take your luggage.’

Michael handed him the camouflage print backpack. He took small delight in the flicker of disgust across the man’s face. ‘Where’s the party?’

‘I believe you are to convene on floor 76.’

‘Holy fuck!’

‘Indeed, sir.’

The elevator ride up was slow. Michael didn’t like it. The lights went by at a snail’s pace, and the music had stopped at floor 42. He hummed his own entertainment; anything to distract from the feeling of unease.

The first sight he saw when the elevator pinged open was Geoff, champagne in hand.

‘Michael! Just in time for the toast.’ He handed him the flute.

‘What are we toasting?’

‘New horizons. We’re moving in a new direction. Old warehouses on the dock are so… 87. If we want to rule the city, we should have a king’s view.’

Gavin grinned and bounced over to him. ‘Boi! You have to see the view, boi! You can see everything!’ He tugged Michael over to the window. ‘Isn’t it amazing?’

‘Sure is… so what? We renting this place?’

Ryan scoffed. ‘That’s what I suggested. Try before you buy. But no. Mister Moneybags the Monopoly guy over here wanted to just buy it outright.’

‘Alright, Ryan the downer guy. Pipe down. You’re ruining the moment here. We’re going to find out who messed our old shit up. But this is our new place. This is a new chapter. We have a new member joining who I think you’re going to like. But for now, let’s raise a glass.’

Jack was the first to raise his. ‘To new adventures.’

‘To us. All of us.’ Geoff swilled the champagne around the glass. ‘This is a Armand de Brignac Brut Gold, boys. Enjoy it. It’s only the finer things in life for us from now on. Ray, we got you a silly straw. Pretend it’s Snapple.’ He took a drink. Paused and swallowed.

Ryan smirked. ‘Told you not to buy it because the bottle looked fancy.’

‘I told you to pipe down!’

Michael smiled and watched from the window. It was a strange day. A terrible morning turned wonderful afternoon. The crew was back on track, based in a new home.

Headquarters.

Not home. Michael wasn’t ready to call it that quite yet.

#ah origins #GTA AU #FAHC #fake ah crew #Achievement Hunter

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trekkele · 6 years

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I got tagged in this by @wolfiejimi (holy shit I love your blog) I’m answering it here because I barely use my main blog anymore, it just comes up when I like things.

1. Relationship Status: the seagulls from Finding Nemo screaming Mine!Mine!Mine!

2. Lipstick or Chapstick: Peggy Carter Red, whether it’s appropriate or not, because red lipstick is always appropriate, fuck you. But the one from Burt’s Bees, so it’s technically chap stick.

3. Three Favorite Foods: fresh snickerdoodles, any kind of pasta in sauce, and iced coffee.

4. Song Stuck in Your Head: currently none, but I probably just jinxed it.

yeah I did, High Hopes from p!atd and Glitter and Gold from Barnes Courtney. They don’t blend at all.

5. Last Movie You Watched: fully finished? Black Panther. (holy shit holy shit is that a good movie, ooooh my god). I re-started Tintin tho. (its fucking cute! and one of the first books i remember reading)

6. Top Three Shows: Bones, Hawaii Five-0, and Star Trek (all of them).

Also, Supergirl, The Flash, Arrow (but only up until Oliver and Felicity got together), The Good Place, DareDevil and the Blacklist. Oh and Riverdale.

7. Books I’m Currently Reading: Um. Jack Reacher: The Midnight Line (Lee Child), Drape Expectations: A Caprice De Luca Home Staging Mystery (Karen Rose Smith) (don’t judge me, they’re popcorn books and cute), From Krakow to Krypton: Jews and Comic Books (Ari Kaplan) (very interesting read), Stan Lee’s How to Draw Superheroes, and Sprig Muslin (Georgette Heyer). Oh yeah, and so many fanfictions. So many.

8. Last thing I googled: “Lothario Synonym”. For the trainwreck of a fic I just posted.

Notable mentions: “Mister Rogers”, “Movies like Jumanji (2017)” and “Jim Kirk Fanart” for references.

9. Time: 4:30.

10. Dream Trip: DISNEYLAND. PRECEDED BY WATCHING EVERY ANIMATED DISNEY/PIXAR FILM. AND HAWAII. and like the entire world. I wanna see everything.

(Honestly we already planned our retirement - a year long cruise around the world.)

11. Anything you want: Art supplies. For someone to teach me how to use those supplies properly. Speech to text tech that can help me write while I daydream. THE FOURTH STAR TREK MOVIE TO BE MADE AND MADE WELL. for people to stop arguing and just start fucking fixing things like they should. For the world to be a better place for my kids, because fuck if I trust it with them yet. For that dress to go on sale, I beg you, I need it. For an excuse to get dressed up in a ball gown and go to a masquerade. to be able to draw like I want to instead of my current skill level. For all my fic ideas to be written by someone else but exactly right because I don’t have the patience to write them out myself. A ghost writer that’s what I want. To rewatch Naussica of the Valley of the Wind. And coffee. I want another coffee.

Rules: Tag 15 people! Like wolfie-jimi said: I’m just going to tag whoever the last 15 people in my notifications/who followed me/who interacted with me in some way/whose username in some way stands out to me for good or for ill. That seems democratic. Or something. I feel so awful if I have to actually choose people. Like I’m judging you all. So this is judgement free selection. Think of it like jury duty, only more flippant and less intensely problematic. (literally i just left their words here)

@doctorginsberg @janeykath318 @season-ofthe-bitch @janewayssidehoe @jadeb2002 @thepathlesstrekked @deannaboi @bow-ties-and-daydreams @vie-belle-vie @i-regret-nothing-ever @ilsa-fireswan @eclipse9856 @spookymvlders @unitedfederationofbisexuals @captain-stelliferous

And as always anyone else who sees this and is bored enough to want to do it. I hereby officially tag everyone who sees this. The process of viewing this sentence with your eyes means you are tagged. Engage or ignore at will.

#tag game thing #this was actually kind of fun #wolfie-jimi #buh-bye feel free to ignore

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Mr. Soul! Review: TV Has Never Been So Radical

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Just past the halfway point in the documentary Mr. Soul!, poet Felipe Luciano calls Ellis Haizlip “the most effective, insidious revolutionary that I have ever met.” It isn’t meant as a specific accolade, but it is a badge of honor for a man who honored the true meaning of sedition. Subversion in the arts is a skill which can be expressed as simply as putting a mustache on the Mona Lisa. Seditious political expression is rarely so subtle. The creator and host of the all-too-short lived public television variety program Soul! achieved a dream mix of diverse thought, some which went under the radar, some designed to be unnoticed, all of which was riveting, and everything absolutely accessible.

Soul! captured everyday insurrection. Melvin Van Peebles’ 1971 independent feature Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song proclaimed to be unapologetically Black, Haizlip saw no reason to bring apology into the equation. Nothing he was doing, no act he was showing, no poem or word or emotion needed clarification, only amplification. Everything Haizlip brought to the soundstage was an ordinary pain or exultation expressed with unadulterated realism. Yet, it subverted every expectation, and proved a street battle could be fought on the airwaves. In 1970, Gil Scott-Heron frustratingly sang “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised,” but from Sept. 12, 1968 through March 7, 1973, not only was a coup mounted on small screens, but it had great beats you could dance to. Even the spoken word performances had rhythm, the oral arguments and affirmations of the interviews were lyrical blasts of staccato, flowing, chaos.

Patti LaBelle was the first musical guest. Backed by the Bluebelles, their voices brought home audiences “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Stevie Wonder got so caught up in the energy of the studio audience, cameramen had to change reels and excitedly wondered if he would ever get tired of playing. Earth, Wind & Fire showed how live playing on TV could be done. There was no lip-syncing on Soul!. It would be another few years before Soul Train would answer for American Bandstand, but Soul!’s host Ellis Haizlip never tried to be a hip Johnny Carson.

Mr. Soul! is the story of the man behind the first Black variety show on American television. The documentary explains how the March 1968 Kerner Commission Report found the media played a big part in the racial divide in America. Black Americans rarely saw themselves reflected on the small screen. Shows with African-American actors, stars, and hosts had been produced by networks, but most were only short-lived, no one was really allowed to be themselves, and their social limitations were strictly enforced. African Americans did get one featured role in nationally broadcast network and affiliate television.

The Six O’clock News guaranteed on-the-spot footage. They showed every graffiti-tagged trash can left overfilled on ghettos streets. They fetishized poverty, and promoted riot coverage before the first windows shattered. They didn’t cover much of the burgeoning renaissance which was happening in the culture. Public broadcast stations led the first charge, the documentary details, programming shows like Inside Bedford-Stuyvesant, Say Brother, Black Journal, and Like It Is, socially conscious and educational content made by and for African Americans. Haizlip, was asked to help create a “Black Tonight Show” in the late ’60s. Mr. Soul! shows nothing could have been further from his mind. “What he was doing, every night he was on that program, was changing someone’s mind about Black folks,” poet Sonia Sanchez says in an interview.

The documentary casts the show as much more than a groundbreaking arts showcase. It presents it as an in-your-face avant garde performance art entity in itself. One that could take on any character, as long as it was real. Soul! was also the first true poets’ coffeehouse on television, the film points out, and it danced all over any rhymes the Beats might have snapped to. The Last Poets bounced epithets off percussion onto an audience who shook words like maracas, and fed a need to the people watching at home. Mae Jackson’s words could build a castle of words big enough to transition from the frenetic ensemble jazz of the McCoy Tyner Quartet to the somber acoustic guitar of Bill Withers..

The show also served as a church, its congregation reaching far beyond West 55th Street, the studio at WNET in New York, where it was filmed. The documentary makes a great case for the show as a conduit of spiritual affirmation. Haizlip was brought up in the church, and brought the fervor of his faith in all things Soul!. Wilson Pickett and gospel singer Marion Williams’ rendition of “Oh Happy Day” lifted the faithful off their seats and onto their feet. Billy Preston and the God Squad channeled holy spirit through his fingertips. Meditations proclaiming the inner beauty of blackness raise the very chakras of the viewing community.

The program was a political roundtable, in the round, surrounded by a studio audience constituency, as well. The conversations ranged from the global environment to the nature of creation. The interview guests ncluded Cicely Tyson, Stokely Carmichael, Kathleen Cleaver, Muhammad Ali, Sidney Poitier, Kathleen Cleaver, and Harry Belafonte. Haizlip, who was gay in the world before Stonewall, gets Louis Farrakhan to find a place in the heart of The Nation of Islam for those whose sexuality deviated from proscribed norms. James Baldwin grants more than an interview to poet Nikki Giovanni. The documentary brings out how each of these lives touched one another more than what could ever be shown on screen.

Don’t let this fool you into thinking the documentary is all righteous rage and rhythm and blues. Mr. Soul! has many funny bits, and not just from the performers. Soul! was usually taped live, and this proves to be problematic for the limits of public television. Live broadcasts mean no interruptions and no censorship. Haizlip was brilliant, no doubt. More than educated, he had an inner emotional wisdom which transcends even artistic thought. But he never quite understands the meaning of the word censored. When he’s finally forced to bleep the shit out of a poem by Amiri Baraka on heroin addiction, Haizlip makes sure everyone hears his reluctance to cut it. He instructs the sound engineers to turn the volume way up so the fill-in noise on TV is as ugly as viewers are supposed to think the word is. This is more than a poetic choice. It is a punchline in a running gag.

Everyone interviewed behind the scenes has a funny story. What they are trying to say may be painful, hurtful, or even dangerous. But they know which words bite, and when to chew. Whether it’s the true stories behind the accepted myths or on-the-spot improvisations to cover technical difficulties, each anecdote ends with a shake of the head and an appreciative grin. Haizlip created Soul! with producer Christopher Lukas, who stuck the exclamation point on the title, and brings funny behind-the-scenes stories throughout. The theatrical producer Haizlip took on host duties out of necessity after trying academics, like Harvard psychiatry Professor Dr. Alvin Poussaint. With his horn-rimmed glasses, ultra-calm demeanor, and “right on” encouragements, Haizlip made some big gaffes on live TV. All of these are celebrated gleefully.

President Nixon wasn’t a fan, but the documentary shows he watched. He may not have tuned in, and he certainly wasn’t turned on, but inasmuch as he could be, the paranoid president was aware of the sounds and voice of Black life. Mr. Soul! shows how the Public Broadcasting Corporation suffered a tidal shift in programming after the Johnson administration vacated the White House. The show lasted five years before it was cancelled by the Nixon administration, which cut PBS funding so deep, it needed The Electric Company to pay its bills. But how cool it must be for Bill Moyers to be the only person specifically named, besides the Black cultural programming, as someone Nixon didn’t want to be blamed for silencing.

Mr. Soul!’s finest cinematic achievement is translating a feeling of exhilaration and expectation. Heizlip had an eye toward the future, a radar for young talent, and the sense to balance established acts with rising talent. Dancers like Carmen de Lavallade might find themselves free to experiment with cutting edge moves to a solo piano performance by Stevie Wonder. A 25-year-old Al Green is as surprised as the audience at how much he is instantaneously embraced. Hit-writing songwriters Ashford and Simpson never even thought about performing until they were approached to perform on the show. Haizlip saw art in individuals before even some artists noticed it in themselves.

B.B. King brought old school blues, while jazz be bopper Max Roach teases the future of avant garde jazz. Haizlip asks Rahsaan Roland Kirk, whose innovative, all-inclusive, impresario reed playing laid seed for Jethro Tull, to sit in just because he is crazy.

Haizlip died in 1991. Mr. Soul! was co-directed by Samuel D. Pollard and Ellis’s niece Melissa Haizlip, who also wrote it. The documentary profiles a man who stayed true to his mission by remaining true to himself. He electrified public television through his vision of “Black love and Black strength and Black encouragement.” With a voiceover delivered by Blair Underwood, Mr. Soul! captures a historic run of unique and visionary television. It is as much fun to discover the show as it must have been when it first aired, in a three-networks climate expertly captured in the documentary’s opening, “in living color.”

CNN recently did a special on the history of sitcoms. Everyone watching will remember most of the clips they show, certainly every series they highlight, and almost all the stars in the highlights. There are some very recognizable faces strewn throughout Mr. Soul!, and you really have to keep a sharp eye out at all times, especially in the photographs. Younger versions of household names are all over this documentary, even a 15-year-old Arsenio Hall pulls a rabbit out of a hat.

Soul! is an important chapter of television history, but it feels unfinished because of its unrealized potential. “Can you imagine what Soul! would have been like for a 20-year run,” Questlove asks towards the end of the documentary. “Like, how different would our lives have been?” Mr. Soul! finds hope in the sting of lost possibilities.

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Mr. Soul! launches on HBO Max on August 1.

The post Mr. Soul! Review: TV Has Never Been So Radical appeared first on Den of Geek.

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scrollthebreakfasttable-blog · 6 years

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Breakfast with Desi

In today’s social media world, there are two types of art that, in the eyes of many, are oversaturated. In the city of Atlanta a phrase I’ve heard often, and have even used: “throw a rock in any direction and you’ll either hit a photographer or a SoundCloud rapper.” But while I was sitting there, scrolling through her Instagram, I felt nervous, because the woman that was about to sit down with me isn’t just any photographer. I was sitting down with Deseri Rice, one of the best photographers in Atlanta.

To me, Beyonce, Solange, Yara Shahidi, Zendaya, Janelle Monae, Ava DuVernay, Lupita, and Deseri Rice, are top of the list when I think of the phrase Black Girl Magic. Each of these women are trailblazers, visionaries, and undeniable talents. For anyone who ever modeled for Desi, the feeling of being in front of her camera is completely different from other shoots. Normally you’re focused on giving a look, or appearing to follow a certain aesthetic. Desi frees you from that, and is one of the few photographers who truly captures you as you are, as your truest self. After a friendly hug I decided to dive into some questions.

What got you into photography?

I’ve always been into the fashion ads in magazines and editing my profile pics for myspace. It wasn’t until my Intro to Photography class that I discovered it as my passion. After learning the controls I took it and ran with it.

How do you pick your people? Ever turn anybody down that got mad about it?

I feel as if everyone has their own uniqueness about them. It may not be as evident as some but I take it as a challenge. I haven’t really turn anyone away. If it’s not one of my concepts then it’s a paid gig and usually that filters out the ones I’m not creatively connected to. Honestly if my models are passionate about the project and really into it, it always works out. I will say I’ve had a few that aren’t on the same creative plane and I just let that dissolve on its own naturally. But I encourage everyone to find themselves in front of the camera.

Your tag is deseritheartist but every time I hear people talk about you they say “Desi The God”. Why not take that handle?

I’m honored of the title honestly. I don’t mind others calling me that but I rather not call myself a God for personal reasons. I played around with the spelling and still felt uneasy. Also I don’t want others that don’t know me the wrong impression of me calling myself that.

I honestly find this part fascinating. Myself included, ego has always played a major role in the world of entertainment, from the justified confidence of Grammy winners, to has beens like Bow Wow and his lies about private jets. The concept of “fake it ‘till you make it” and showing out for an audience has always seemed extremely important, but from what I can see, faking anything is beyond Desi. She’s real, she’s honest, and she’s kind. That’s a major breath of fresh air, one I think everyone who meets her appreciates. As usual, I start to lose focus after my strawberry pancakes arrive, so I went back to asking questions so I wouldn’t have to do much talking.

At what point in a shoot do you look and go “Oh shit, I did that!”? When do you know you’ve taken the perfect shot?

During photo sessions I get this high feeling like mid session after me and the sitter(s) have warmed up and I just let go. This feeling doesn’t happen every session which doesn’t mean those shots weren’t good but some of my best shots comes from that feeling. It’s like I’ve caught the photo holy ghost lol.That feeling man, I can't explain it. After i see the result from that feeling, that’s always my reaction. I really be in awe sometimes while editing, that’s when it hits me the most.

Top 3 models/celebrities you’d love to shoot?

There’s not many I follow. But i find Kiko Mizuhara, Luka Sabbat, and Kwollem style very intriguing. There’s more but definitely my top three.

Desi laughed when I passed on my idea that a collaboration between herself and Zendaya would probably snatch every wig in existence.

Top 3 magazines you’d love to do a cover shoot for?

There are a few that I’d like to work with like Blanc, MODZIK, and Pause Magazine. I’m actually working on my own, AU COURANT, be on the lookout.

Desi has recently announced that AU COURANT is still in development but a release date has not yet been chosen. Check her social media for updates on that via her instagram @deseritheartist

Cosmo? Essence? Or Vogue?

It would be cool to have a spread in all of these.

For your IG followers, your story is always lit. Seems like you always find the dope events and shows. In Atlanta there’s an event every 10 feet, so what’s your secret to avoiding wackness?

I really love these questions lol I’ve had several people come up to me like “Yo, Des what’s the move?” There’s tons of things to do in Atlanta just gotta be plugged in. If the vibe isn’t right I leave immediately. My secret is follow the DJ’s lol the ones you really like have a following with similar taste and you can never go wrong with the crowd.

One example of this that any follower of Desi’s knows is her friendship with an incredible DJ known as Thrice Groove. Thrice is slowly but surely taking over Atlanta, and Desi has been there to witness the way he dominates a room with his amazing sound.

Top 10 songs on your playlist right now?

Out of a trillion? I flip flop a lot between decades and genres so I revisit a lot like the song just dropped. Lol in no order.

Blossom Dearie - Ravyn Lenae

Supposed to Say Goodbye - Etta bond & Raf Riley

Pick it Up - Famous Dex

Dam Girl - Frills

Vogue -Full Crate

Mi Gente - J.Balvin & Willy William

Due to Me- Jean Deaux

Distractions I: The opposite sex - Kilo Kish

Hold It Down - Mia Gladstone

Get Money - Michael Da Vinci

Despite my extensive music library I feel a tinge of shame for not recognizing a single name listed, and make a mental note to download every single artist later. Aside from a great photographer’s eye, Desi also has an amazing ear for music, so anything she reccomends is usually dope.

So in today’s social media age, there’s photographers who literally get paid to live with and follow influencers. What’s the dollar amount you’d do that for? Or never ever?

Depends. If i really f with that person’s vision and I have full creative flexibility then I’d do it as long as my living expenses are taken care of. I’ve actually never heard of this.

At this moment I pull of my phone and show her my favorite example, a talented guy out of LA known as Brendan North, who until a few months ago, would follow Logan Paul. With a simple “oh, cool” she goes back to her food.

3 breakfast must haves?

Eggwhite Omelette, all the veggies and pepper jack cheese. Breakfast potatoes with veggies. My mom’s grits with cheese (very particular about my grits)

I laugh a little because while she works her way through her healthy omelette, I’m still waging war on the Colorado Omelette, which is the exact opposite of healthy. If I wanted to I could probably come up with some correlation between her talent, incredible vibe, and responsible eating, but I’d rather pretend there’s unrelated and not give up my Colorado Omelettes.

Last month Desi put on an amazing event called Only On Thursdays. She did one last year that went amazingly well, and this one also did not disappoint. In fact, Breakfast Table has the honor of being one of the vendors. It was the perfect place for artists to represent themselves on an equal, and supportive, playing field.

What is “Only On Thursdays”? Only On Thursday’s originated from me wanted to showcase my work gallery style but also involve the music scene in Atlanta that I want to share with my friends. Also to bring back that portfolio review feel from college. I felt like I lost my creative mojo once I graduated because projects aren’t forced on me anymore. My main goal is bring together everything I love and give local photographers and artist a platform to present their work. Many are scared to take that step. This event is for everyone to get inspired and take that leap. So far I’ve helped maybe 4 artist showcase their talents for the first time and hopefully it doesn’t stop there.

How do you decide what artists to put in your show? I do not do open calls for artist. They are carefully picked by what I believe will flow well with the collection and from whom I gain inspiration. They aren’t super famous artist, they might not have a collection by the time I contact them. Really just your everyday artist coming together for something awesome.

You have this crazy soulful element to your photos, it’s like, you can identify a Desi shot out of a group. So, my last question: Do you realize how dope you are? Lol i’m just me.

I believe with all my heart that someday, Desi herself, and the world, will realize her greatness.

-Amelia

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redvsvblue · 7 years

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So @maya-de-hatchet has this great Cybernetic FAHC AU and, uh, this is what came out of our chat about Cybernetic Myan. (Go check out the cybernetic au tag on her blog - and her art! It’s great! And because I’m making this post I’m allowed to put all sorts of nice things about her in here so g o check out her stuff she’s amazing.)

Keep reading for not very graphic description of injury and blood and semi-awkward talks about feelings

The job didn’t go great – too many injuries and too many cops and they all had to split, scattered all over Los Santos in various hideouts. Ryan and Michael are in a hotel east of downtown and Ryan’s gently urging Michael down onto the bed, ignoring his own protesting muscles to tend to Michael.

There’s a lot of blood soaking into the front of Michael’s shirt and Ryan’s sensors are going haywire, unhelpfully telling him about Michael’s too-fast pulse, his too-fast breath.

He pushes Michael down by the shoulder and start to pull off his shirt, but Michael struggles. Even in his weakened state, Michael tries to convince him not to, babbling that he’s fine, I can deal with it, Ryan, you don’t need to help but Ryan can tell he needs help and he needs it now.

Ryan really doesn’t want to do this – Michael’s clearly uncomfortable with showing skin, and with the scars on his arms (not even Jack could convince him to show the scars) Ryan can guess why – it’s awfully similar to his own reasons – but there’s no way to treat him with the shirt on.

Maybe he could cut around it or just rip it open over the wound, that would be fine, wouldn’t it, just enough to see -

Michael convulses and more blood seeps in his shirt and Ryan’s sensors go into the red and he has to, he has to break this boundary.

“I’m sorry, Michael, I’m sorry, but I need to help you,” he says as he pushes the shirt up to Michael’s neck. Michael doesn’t like it one bit - and he can hear the anguish in Ryan’s voice - but he’s in such pain, holy shit – he wrangles the shirt off the rest of the way as Ryan grabs and rifles through a medkit, snatching up handfuls of gauze and pressing it unceremoniously to the bleeding, guides Michael’s hands to it and tells him to press down, keep pressure on it and Michael nods weakly and obeys even though the slightest hint of pressure makes him wince.

Ryan tears open the packets of needle and thread, dumps alcohol on them to sterilise and pushes the gauze away to start. Michael pants through the pain as Ryan sews him up – it’s not a terrible injury, a quick stab from a wayward piece of shrapnel that’s mostly just a surface wound, but it’s bleeding a lot and Michael’s starting to feel dizzy from the combination of blood loss and adrenaline.

Ryan’s fingers rest innocently over a bad scar – just a jagged white line but Michael knows its terrible story (one of the first) – and a wave of panic crashes through him.

His blood roars in his ears and he nearly hyperventilates himself straight into a panic attack – Ryan’s seen, Ryan knows – but then Ryan’s just tying off the knot and planting a hand on Michael’s chest, the touch jarring but comforting in the haze of Michael’s muddled mind and Ryan’s calm instructions float through the panic like a light in the dark. Breathe, Michael. Just breathe. And the gentle hand on his chest encourages him into a slower rhythm, calmer, and Michael wonders if Ryan even realises what he’s just stopped. He probably has.

Once Michael’s breathing is relatively normal, Ryan pulls back to rip open alcohol wipes, cleaning the stitches and wiping away the excess blood still oozing out. He reaches into the duffle by his feet – Michael’s, by the feel of the grenades – and thankfully his hand closes around some clothing. He drags it out to find it a hoodie, one of Michael’s beaten up brown ones, and he drapes it over the guy.

He quietly excuses himself to wash his hands and Michael nods, chest rising a falling a lot more evenly now.

Michael feels a lot better once he’s covered – he rests his head on the pillow and cracks an eye open to let Ryan know he’s awake. Ryan studies him with those unnaturally vibrant eyes for a long moment before he nods to himself and disappears back into the bathroom with the medkit.

Ryan decides to give Michael some space after – well, after that – and spends some time in the bathroom cleaning himself up. He wipes at some of the worse cuts on his body and steps into the shower to take care of the rest, taping bandage over his ribs and rubbing alcohol and cream on the bullet graze on his shoulder afterwards.

Ryan closes up the medkit and takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror – his sensors tell him there’ll be a bruise on his cheek in a few hours. Michael shifts in the other room.

Michael’s gradually getting himself more comfortable on the bed, careful not to aggravate his new stitches or the throbbing split lip. He closes his eyes and hears Ryan come out of the bathroom – it’s relaxing, knowing that Ryan’s here, but what’s even more relaxing (and a little startling) is when Ryan sits beside him, gently curls his fingers around Michael’s wrist and keeps him grounded with the warm touch.

They remain there in silence for a while. Michael still hurts all over but he’s better now, the pain less urgent and more just there, aching and stinging and reminding him he’s still alive.

“There’s no painkillers in the kit,” Ryan says, “I can go out and get some, though.”

Michael shakes his head – he doesn’t want Ryan to leave the safety of the hotel room. He’s had worse, anyway, but it’s touching that Ryan’s trying to help so much.

Silence settles over them again, this time for much longer. Ryan tries to distract himself from thinking about what the rest of the crew are doing right now – if they’re okay, if they’re alive, if he should be worried he hasn’t gotten any texts yet.

“I’m sorry I got blood on the floor,” Michael croaks a few minutes later. “And on the bed.”

The apology startles a quiet laugh out of Ryan and Michael smiles at the sound. The tension almost visibly eases between them and Ryan’s grip relaxes the slightest bit.

With the laughter and the warm feeling Michael gets from Ryan’s hand on his wrist, it occurs to him that maybe now he should ask what he’s been thinking about for a while. He’d wondered for a while, but he never asked Geoff or Jack. And besides, he wanted Ryan’s opinion on it.

He wants to ask – wants to, desperately, but when Ryan’s laughter fades it suddenly seems very hard to ask. Michael swallows thickly and chews on the words a little more.

Ryan furrows his brow at the spike of Michael’s pulse under his fingers – his sensors are telling him Michael’s nervous, picking up on all the signals. The way Michael isn’t looking directly at him, the way he looks like he wants to speak but isn’t. He wants to ask if Michael’s all right, what’s wrong, what’s making him nervous.

He wants to ask – but he wonders if it’s him making Michael nervous. Maybe – Maybe he’s crossed another boundary, maybe Michael doesn’t like him being so close when he’s so vulnerable, maybe he’s making Michael uncomfortable.

Ryan frowns and gently pulls his hand away, but Michael suddenly flips his hand so he can grasp onto Ryan’s. Ryan takes it as the silent plea it is and relaxes back into Michael’s grip, sensing Michael’s pulse clam a bit with his touch.

Secretly, he’s relieved that Michael still wants him close like this.

“Hey, Ryan…” Michael’s voice is unusually soft and his eyes are focused on the floor rather than on Ryan or their entwined hands.

“Yeah?” Ryan replies when Michael doesn’t follow up.

“Uh…y'know, I was just wondering…what would happen if someone in the crew had a…a – uh…romantic relationship with someone…? It’s – just curious - “ his pulse pumps a little faster again beneath Ryan’s fingertips.

“It’s kind of dangerous with a civilian - “ Ryan starts, but Michael cuts him off.

“Not a civilian,” he says. “Someone – Someone in the crew.”

Ryan’s breath hitches almost inaudibly – even beaten up and bruised Michael can hear it with his hearing cybernetics. His eyes widen as he stares at Michael, who still isn’t looking directly at him.

“Well…”

Michael doesn’t know as much about body language as Ryan, nor was he as good as interpreting it. But here he could tell Ryan was trying to find the words to answer, not trying to brush it aside.

“I’m…I don’t really know…” Ryan glances away over Michael’s shoulder. There’s something else nagging at him.

“I suppose – if they were – better together, it would – it would be fine.”

Michael’s unnaturally tense beside him, his fingers stiff against Ryan’s and Ryan dares to squeezes them, flashing him a small smile that Michael catches in the corner of his eyes.

“There’s time,” Ryan says, almost as if he knows exactly what Michael’s thinking – that he should take the leap before he alienates Ryan by – leading him on and – and -

Michael’s eyes snap up to Ryan. There’s a sense of surprise, a small spike in his pulse that was far more subtle than his widening eyes – Ryan’s heart flutters at the spike and he’s thankful that Michael can’t feel his own pulse.

Michael gets a little lost in the inhuman blue of Ryan’s eyes, dulled a little with exhaustion but crinkled at the corners with his smile. Ryan doesn’t say anything else. No rush, no pressure – Michael deserved to say whatever it was he was thinking.

Michael swallows and looks away again. Ryan remains a comforting presence beside him.

“There’s…time?” He repeats, almost as if he’s looking for a confirmation that he heard the words right.

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees softly.

“Um…” Michael isn’t sure where to go from here. He looks at Ryan and then down at their hands. He doesn’t know exactly what he should say.

The moment stretches out like putty – all the things unsaid building up in Michael’s throat like blood.

“You should rest first,” Ryan says, breaking the moment and daring to scoot a little closer, press his shoulder up against Michael’s.

Michale swallows down the words and the blood and nods – he feels like he’s missed his chance, lost the almost, but Ryan squeezes his hand again and links their fingers together and it soothes some of the regret starting to stick to Michael’s teeth.

He briefly thinks back to the more recent times they’ve been spending together. He doesn’t flinch away from the touch when Ryan takes up the space right next to him.

“’M not going anywhere,” Ryan mumbles. And something loosens in Michael’s chest and he can breathe again, nodding idly and inhaling deeply to feel the burn of the stitches. Those words are reassuring, even though Michael can’t bring his brain to relax into sleep.

But it’s only a few hours before the pain sluggishly brings him down, adrenaline slithering away and leaving him empty and drained and tired. He’s still overthinking, still running through every combination of words he could say to make Ryan stay for more than just now. Soon, though, sleep claims his brain and he fades out of consciousness with Ryan comfortably by his side.

He whispers an almost too-quiet “thanks” before he passes out, and he’s not sure if he imagines the whispered “of course” or not.

Michael is awoken the next day by the early morning rays as they pour through cracks in the blinds and spill into the old hotel room. He's still in bed, body feeling stiff and achey as he slowly wakes up.

Ryan’s still there, like he promised, but he’s wide awake and holding his phone above him with the hand not in Michael’s – his hand is still in Michael’s. Ryan really needs to piss but his care for Michael outweighs his very full bladder. Slightly.

Michael feels oddly relieved to see Ryan still at his side. He slowly tries to move, stretch, anything to ease the aching tension in his muscles. He reluctantly pulls his hand out of Ryan’s to crack his knuckles, sighing at the relief. The hoodie’s still draped over him, and he pushes himself up to slide it on, zipping it up over the stitches as Ryan sits up beside him.

“Did you sleep at all?” Michael asks, voice rough.

“A little,” Ryan says with a dismissive shrug. “How’s your stomach?”

“Hurts a little.” Is Michael’s response. His whole body hurts, but Ryan doesn’t need to worry about it.

Ryan can tell Michael’s underselling the pain – notifications pop up in the corner of his eye about it. They point out how Michael’s eyes nearly shut as he shifts upright, how his whole body is tense and his movements are stiff.

“Any word from the others?” Michael asks, pulling attention away from his pain. Ryan doesn’t press the issue of it.

“They’re fine,” Ryan says, glancing at his phone. “Holed up like we are.”

“Guess we just wait, then?” Michael had always hated waiting. They’d had botched jobs in the past, had spent many nights laying low. But at least they could reach each other, then. Talk, play video games, all together. Now, though, now it’s just them and shitty hotel TV.

Since Michael’s awake and relatively okay, Ryan takes his chance to clean himself up a little more and heads to the bathroom. Michael takes the opportunity to examine his wounds. They aren’t particularly bad, but they’re surely going to leave him unable to do much for a while. More painful than completely debilitating, but he doesn’t want to even get off the bed.

When he tries – just as Ryan’s exiting the bathroom – he immediately stumbles and Ryan rushes forward to steady him, suddenly very close and very solid and Michael’s a little dizzy from the almost fall. He feels a little selfish when he realises Ryan had gotten injured as well – clearly not as badly as Michael, but still hurt.

Ryan scolds him gently as he tries to move Michael back to the bed without aggravating his wounds, but Michael can hear the undercurrent of fear in his voice. He selfishly lets Ryan push him back onto the bed but he grabs Ryan’s arm before he can move away.

“Are you okay?” He asks, raking his eyes over Ryan’s still-clothed body. Despite the pain, Michael holds fast to Ryan’s arm. Ryan stares at him, not moving away even though he surely could.

“I’m fine,” Ryan says. As long as you are, he thinks, but doesn’t voice. Michael’s eyes still drift, as if searching for any signs of wounds. Ryan’s breath hitches in his throat again, no words leaving his mouth.

Michael vividly remembers a flash of a blade and hurriedly runs a hand down Ryan’s side, looking for the wound it must have caused. Ryan winces and covers Michael’s hand with his own, dragging it over a bit and pressing it carefully to – Michael can feel the soft give of bandages under his palm under Ryan’s shirt. It soothes Michael’s sudden concern a bit and he keeps his hand against it as Ryan looks into his eyes.

Michael probably would have sat up, were it not for how Ryan remained propped up above him - he hadn’t moved at all after putting Michael back into the bed.

“I’m fine,” Ryan repeats, stroking his thumb over Michael’s fingers. “Here, feel.”

Michael feels slightly compelled to obey what Ryan said, even as a small shiver races up his arm from where Ryan’s thumb softly brushes over his fingers. Ryan doesn’t let go quite yet and his throat clicks when he swallows.

“I can run out and get some breakfast,” Ryan says quietly.

Michael doesn’t want him to leave – suddenly doesn’t want him to even step out of the room, but they need to get something after all that happened yesterday. He turns his hand to hold Ryan’s and Ryan grips his fingers tightly. Michael wants to lie and say he doesn’t want any food, to selfishly keep Ryan with him like this. But his body beats him to it, a soft growling that made him painfully aware of how much he actually needed food right now.

Ryan chuckles softly and squeezes his hand again – smiling as Michael crosses an arm over himself.

“Pancakes or cooked?” Ryan asks. His body doesn’t have a similar reaction to Michael’s, being mostly synthetic technology, but he’s pretty sure he should grab something for himself, too.

“I’ll get both,” Ryan says when Michael doesn’t decide, and withdraws his hands with one last squeeze.

Michael feels slightly disappointed as Ryan stands up. He slowly pushes himself into an upright position even though his whole body is aching even worse than before. He watches as Ryan slips out of the hotel room – Michael’s instantly grateful that no one knows what the Vagabond’s face looks like.

Michael takes the time to clean up in the bathroom, hobbling over on shaky legs and wiping a hand over the dried blood on his chin. He had already guessed that he looked like shit, and he really didn’t trust himself to stand upright in the shower, so he chose instead to clean off his face to the best of his abilities.

He lifts the hem of the hoodie to study the stitches – neat black rows like Ryan’s stitches always are - pressing his fingers over them and hissing at the sting of pain every touch sends through him. The skin around them and his other wounds has been cleaned, but there’s still a lot of dried blood smeared over him and dark bruises patterned over his skin.

He sighs and unscrews the bottle of cleaning alcohol, grabbing a tissue and wetting it before dabbing over the stitches. The alcohol stings at the still-healing injuries – Michael’s extremely grateful the guys hadn’t targeted his legs.

Michael runs a hand through his hair and slowly retreats back to the bed to ease his aching muscles. He closes his eyes, thinks a little about how nice it was with Ryan next to him.

At the very least, something good seemed to be coming out of this botched job after all.

Ryan returns with bags of food and drinks – and an entire box of doughnuts, grinning wide as he sets it down on the table – and Michael easily smiles back, ignores the tug of the stitches as Ryan sits close to him on the bed and pulls the food in their laps to make it easier for Michael. As they unpack greasy eggs ‘n bacon and still-warm pastries, Ryan turns on the TV to some shitty, low-budget early morning drama, handing Michael napkins as he eats semi-messily over his lap.

It’s nice – calm – for once. Michael doesn’t feel jumpy, isn’t twitchy and nervous. Ryan’s comfortable and warm beside him, calmly opening drinks for him and laughing at the crappy dialogue filtering through the speakers.

And it’s when Michael’s finished breakfast that he decides to ask,

“So, are we gonna go back to Geoff’s?”

“I suppose,” Ryan says with a shrug, carefully not looking at him. Michael nods, glancing at his bloodied shirt and jacket tossed in the corner of the room.

“But not yet,” Ryan adds, glancing over at him.

“Why not?” Michael’s pretty sure he already knows the answer.

Ryan’s mouth twists and he deliberately looks away from Michael.

“I mean – not if you don’t want to yet,” he says quietly, with a half-hearted shrug.

“Uh - “ Michael takes a moment before he speaks again, “ - I can move on my own, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

It wasn’t that, Ryan desperately wants to say.

“Well,” he actually says – dithers, deeply unsure of what to say. Michael stares at him, trying to guess what it is.

“We can wait until dark. Might be safer that way,” he offers. If that’s what you’re worried about, he nearly repeats.

Ryan breathes out a relieved sigh and nods.

“Yeah,” he says,”dark. We should – let’s wait until dark.”

Michael, somewhat confused, just shrugs and leans back in the bed – it’s actually pretty comfortable even with his aching body. He drifts off into sleep, tired and relaxed beside Ryan.

Ryan can’t help but kick himself – it’s selfish, he knows, to keep Michael here with him for the day. Geoff’ll want to see them, make sure they’re okay. Gavin’s been asking about Michael over text, asking Ryan all sorts of casual-worried-not-worried things.

He’s a little, stupidly, selfishly glad Michael left his phone at his place. That way no one can tell him how Ryan’s been dodging the question of when they’re returning. He swallows down the guilty lump in his throat and looks down at Michael.

Fuck, he’s in deep.

It’s when Michael wakes and tries to get up that he realises why Ryan wants to stay a little longer.

It’s dark out and he’s pushing himself off the bed and everything aches but Ryan's there at arm’s reach, ready to catch him.

It’s when a fresh wave of pain makes his legs shake and makes him want to curl up, when Ryan rushes to him, cautious of how much he’s touching Michael as he guides him back to the bed.

“Maybe we should wait a little longer, until your wounds heal a little more.” He gestures vaguely at the room and looks into Michael’s eyes. “I’ve booked it for two nights, might as well use it.”

Michael insists that he’s fine, tries to get back up and prove it even though Ryan keeps saying they should stay, and it goes on for several minutes until Ryan realises the sudden strain in Michael’s expression, how his hands drift to his midsection. Ryan stops talking for a moment, paling as he holds onto Michael’s shoulder.

“You…You should lay down, Michael.”

Michael doesn’t listen – yeah, it hurts, but he’s sure he’ll be fine. And then Ryan’s hand tightens on his shoulder and his voice is sterner when he speaks.

“Michael, you need to lay down.”

And just as Michael opens his mouth to protest again he feels blood dripping and he collapses shakily back onto the bed, hit with a rush of lightheadedness as Ryan runs off to grab the medkit. Michael slowly sinks onto his back as the pain grows, sharpens – shit, he must have pulled some of his stitches.

Ryan comes back and pushes Michael’s hoodie up, quickly sterilises the wound with stinging alcohol and muttering apologies before resewing it and taping gauze over it again. Michael breathes a sigh of relief as Ryan lowers his hoodie again. He knows Ryan won’t let him leave tonight, now.

He doesn’t want to admit the small sense of satisfaction at spending more time with Ryan.

Michael can see the slight frown on Ryan’s face, tries to reassure him the reopened wound is fine with a shaky smile. Ryan feels guilty, a little – after all, it kind of was his fault that Michael had pulled the stitches in the first place. If he hadn’t been so adamant about staying – if he had helped Michael get up in the first place and not -

“Hey Ryan,” Michael says, breaking him out of his spiral. Ryan looks down at him and Michael opens his mouth, shuts it again.

“About last night,” he says, trails off to nothing. He has no clue where to go with this, immediately regrets opening his mouth in the first place.

“What about last night?” Ryan asks, picking up on Michael’s nervousness but all his sensors can tell him is that he’s nervous and not why he’s nervous.

“Uh – so – you said there was time - ? And I just…I…” Michael frowns at his sudden speechlessness – he’s never been truly speechless before, never so unsure.

Ryan doesn’t know what will reassure him, so he just calmly places a hand on Michael’s arm. There’s silence. Michael wants to ask, confirm, but the words won’t come.

“Michael,” Ryan says quietly, slowly, carefully choosing his words. “I – I really care about you. If…If there’s something you want to tell me, please, tell me.”

Michael swallows thickly and looks away. His pulse kicks up in Ryan’s sensors.

“It’s – “

“Ryan - “

He chokes, he fucking chokes and he doesn’t know how to say this how to say anything god why the fuck did he decide to do this now?!

He huffs loudly and Ryan’s fingers press against his arm, a gentle reminder that he’s there, willing to wait for whatever Michael wants to say. It calms Michael a bit, but there’s a tiny voice inside him saying there’s only so much patience in the world. And they’ve been dancing around each other for months now – goddamn fucking months, and maybe saying anything will ruin everything.

Michael slowly pushes himself up, leaning against the pillows Ryan had propped up behind him. He can’t back down now, he tells himself.

Ryan tenses, worried when the movement makes Michael bite his lip – pain or nerves, he can’t tell. Michael leans in a little, rests their shoulders together. Perhaps selfishly, he tilts his head in slightly. His sensors pick up the catch in Ryan’s breath.

“I - “ He’s sure he’ll regret saying this, swallows and powers through anyway. “I like you, Ryan.” It’s nearly an inaudible whisper. Ryan doesn’t need the sensors to see how terribly nervous he is.

“Not – Not just as a friend, it’s – you - “

Ryan takes his hand and leans in.

Michael waits. He doesn’t really know what he’s expecting. Disgust, denial, a gentle let down, harsh rejection? It’s so overwhelming he pulls away – Ryan holds him fast and Michael looks away at the wall instead, tensing up all over.

“I like you, too,” Ryan murmurs, barely a breath. Michael freezes.

“Michael – hey,” Ryan says softly. “You’re not the only one,” he adds, and Michael’s gaze returns to him as the words sink in, as Ryan’s fingers curl over his on the bed.

“What?” Michael asks, his voice somewhere between disbelief and hope.

“I…I like you, too,” Ryan repeats, lifting one hand to rest it on Michael’s shoulder. There’s only an inch or two of space between them. Ryan takes in a deep breath.

“Michael?”

Michael stares dumbly at him and it takes a moment for him to register the question, another second to answer.

“Yeah?”

“Can I - “ Ryan’s eyes flick down to his mouth and back up.

Michael’s suddenly acutely aware of his split lip – his skin grows warm, his cheeks flush pink. He doesn’t let Ryan waste any more words, closes his eyes and leans in – Ryan takes it as the permission he was waiting for and doesn’t hesitate to close the space between them, softly pressing his lips to the uninjured side of Michael’s mouth. Michael exhales shakily and kisses back a little harder despite the sting.

A few more quiet, pleasant moments pass like that and when they break apart, it’s slow and careful as both of them open their eyes. Ryan’s smiling – small, but there, something bright in his eyes. Maybe artificial, but Michael likes to think he put it there. There’s no more than an inch of space between them still, and Michael rakes his eyes over Ryan’s face as he just – takes it all in. He can’t believe he avoided this for so long, but it’s definitely worth the wait.

“Do that again?” Ryan asks quietly, hopefully. Michael huffs out a laugh and gladly indulges that particular request – his pulse is haywire on Ryan’s sensors and Ryan really doesn’t need the display to know it matches his own by now.

Ryan slowly, carefully slides a hand up to hover over Michael’s neck, fingers hardly brushing the skin. He’s still hesitant - after all, this is still Michael, still the guy who spent months getting comfortable with Ryan sleeping on his bed, there’s still boundaries even after all of this. The kiss is gentle, soft because of Michael’s busted lip.

After some time, they pull apart, Michael’s gaze tired but relieved as he smiles at Ryan.

“I’m exhausted,” he whispers, and a bubble of happy, slightly hysterical laughter rises in Ryan.

The room is quiet save for their shallow breathing. The neon lights of the hotel sign glow through their window and the ceiling light shrouds them in a soft yellow.

“We should sleep, then,” Ryan says, reluctantly slipping away from Michael to get up and turn the light off, plunging the room into near darkness. He uses the stray glow of neon lights and his cybernetics to navigate back to the bed, helping Michel get comfortable before taking the space next to him.

This time it’s more intimate, more relaxed as Michael’s hand slips into Ryan’s. It’s easier to fall asleep.

And while Michael drifts off and Ryan stays awake, he can’t help tracing over Michael’s features with his eyes, idly tracking his even breathing and quietly hoping there’ll be more moments like this – preferably without the injury and the pain – but peaceful and intimate, almost in their own little bubble away from the world where feelings don’t have consequences.

It’s nice, and it pulls at Ryan’s heart in a way nothing has for years.

#ragehappy #myan #fanfic #cybernetic AU #mine #maya-de-hatchet #my myan

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