#it anyway right here in scotland!!!

[p2ii]

Motorola startac 70 my beloved <333

[gaytobymeres]

people on here are so... uninformed about scottish politics. believe it or not some scottish people dont want independence... there was a whole referendum and 55% of ppl voted to remain in the union. also not everyone in scotland hates being called british, and i know people who refer to themselves as british because of the indyref movement. you dont have to understand you just have to like trust me when i say its maybe a bit more varied in scotland than tumblr would have you believe. lol.

[tgarnsl]

A distinct lack of herons along Loch Oich…

[skylordhorus]

on the one hand it is very very good and emotional for a nation to stand firm and ready to fight for your rights, but on the other hand, it is scary and sad that what may be a catalyst for the breakup of the uk is simply the idea of making it less of a humiliating and infuriating process to exist as a trans person (and which deeeeefinitely wont make ppl more aggro at trans folks and blame us if scotland does leave 🙃)

[leahsgirl]

Hiii! Can you please do an angst with a happy ending for Alessia Russo x reader? Like r doesn't think something is big of a deal but for Alessia it is and they argue and r is in the doghouse but can you please make it a happy ending?

spin the bottle | alessia russo x reader

based after the england vs scotland game for the olympics qualifiers, let’s imagine leah wasn’t still injured 🤗

—

You didn’t win. Despite the six goals your team scored. Your hopes of heading to the olympics and playing for your country was out the window.

In light of this event, you and the squad decided to deal with the loss in what felt like the most appropriate way; get ‘pissed out your head’ drunk. Deciding to head back to Beth’s who had the biggest place.

You and Alessia made it back to your own place first of course, deciding to change out of the outfit you was wearing that screamed ‘homeless’. “Hurry up, we’re going to be late man.” shouting down the hallway as you waited for your girlfriend to finish up doing god knows what - the perks of dating a femme!

“I’m coming, i’m coming.” She turned the corner, raking a comb through her blonde locks. “Without me? you wound me Russo.” Taking notice of your crude comment, she slapped your arm while you just stayed smirking.

“What time do you call this?” Stanway was the one to answer the door when you arrived at Beth and Viv’s, you wondered how those two were coping with one of them qualifying and one just missing out.

“Blame miss ‘my hair doesn’t look right’ over here.” Nudging Alessia’s side as you remember how you watched her curse herself in the mirror for her hair not ‘staying in the right place’ a good twenty minutes before.

With being the last ones to arrive, and the get together in full swing, everyone was already in conversation with one another. Alessia offered to get you a drink which you took up as you threw yourself onto the sofa where your fellow man united teammates ella and millie sat. “Jesus christ y/n, watch the glass.” tooney shouted as you nearly spilled her vodka all over her outfit.

“My bad. What are we talking about over here anyways?” Millie proceeded to sift through her camera roll before passing you her phone, showing a picture of a hotel somewhere abroad. “Was just telling tooney here where i’m going over winter break, nice isn’t it?” Zooming in on the picture you nodded and passed the phone back. “Where is it you’re going?” Alessia having come back and handing you a beer which you take a swig of. “Croatia.”

“right whoever wants to play beer pong come on up!” Stanway was now stood on a barstool, projecting her voice through the open-plan space. How she hadn’t fallen off it you didn’t know, considering it was wobbling like mad and the brunette wasn’t completely sober at this point.

“Fancy a game?” Turning your attention to the blonde sat in your lap and watched as she nodded. you was split into two teams of four. One team consisted of you, lucy, chloe and niamh while the other was alessia, leah, lotte and beth. “oh my god, of course the arsenal clan makes up a group.” You scoffed as you saw the group line up behind one another. “Afraid you’ll lose y/n?” the england captain smirked while you dismissed her.

Leah went first, bouncing the ping-pong ball on the table for it to land in the middle cup. “Lucky shot Williamson.” You said as you pick up the drink, it was some sort of brown colour which you only assume had been a result of multiple liquids mixed together. Knocking it back down your throat your suspicions were confirmed as the taste practically made you gip.

Taking your turn, you threw the ball and watched it bounce into the far left cup. “Get in!” High-fiving Lucy making your way to the back of the line as the skipper drank the cup’s contents.

After multiple turns, your team now had one cup to take down while the other team had three. Niamh was the lucky lady who got to throw the ball, taking on none other than your girlfriend. She landed it directly in the plastic cup, your team now celebrating the win.

As the night continued so did the alcohol consumption. You could confidently say everyone in the house was at least a little tipsy. It was fun seeing everyone’s drunken personality come out. You had Lucy, Lauren j, Georgia and Rachel claiming the ‘irresponsible drunks’ title. Leah, Alessia, and Chloe the affectionate drunks. Beth, Kiera and Alex fulfilling the ‘wistful’ drunk stage, being reminiscent on their memories. You found yourself in the ‘happy drunk’ category along with the rest of the gang.

“Shit.” You say as you stumble, causing a half full beer bottle to topple over, spilling onto the wooden floor. As you looked for something to clean it with, rachel took notice and smirked. “you know what this calls for? SPIN THE BOTTLE!” With everyone in their buzzed state they didn’t oppose when daly started manoeuvring them into the lounge urging them to take a seat on the ground.

“Is this normal spin the bottle or PG version?” Keira asked which again lead to another wicked smirk form on daly’s lips. “How about every three goes there has to be a kiss.” There didn’t seem to be that much disagreement on the idea and so went ahead with it.

Daly went first off course, suspiciously landing on her bff Millie in which she dared her to down six shots of tequila one after the other. Somehow the girl managed it and props to her because you could hardly muster a single tequila shot.

The game was getting more intriguing with each turn. James took control of Charles’ instagram - posting something embarrassing onto her story, Zelem gave a quick peck to Kiera which got some wolf-whistles, Chloe had to draw something explicit onto Alex’s forehead and so on.

It was Leah’s turn next and she also so happened to the third person, meaning whoever the bottle stopped on was the lucky lady. Watching as she spun it harshly and did multiple rotations around the room, you noticed the bottle starting to slow down as it made its way to your side of the room.

“Well aren’t you the lucky one y/l/n.” The blonde said as she crawled over to you. “Bold statement Williamson, I think you’ll find it’s the other way around.” She rolled her eyes playfully before placing her hand on your neck, raking you in closer. Soft lips met your own in what was a tender kiss. The centre-back didn’t stop there though; she proceeded by tugging on your bottom lip and swiping her tongue across it. You parted your mouth which allowed the blonde to take advantage by snaking her tongue inside. You didn’t know if it was your drunken state, or the simple fact that the blonde locks in front of your face was reminding you of a certain someone, but you’d be lying if you said you wasn’t getting at least the tiniest bit turned on.

Pulling away, Leah moved back to her original spot. A shocked silence fell over the group which you thought was strange. Well, you did at first - until you saw your girlfriend get up and walk out the room with no warning.

You took your queue to follow her and called out after her. She had gone and grabbed her coat and walked out the door, shutting it in your face.

“Less? Where are you going?” You scurried to catch up with her while at the same time hopping trying to put your trainers back on your feet. “I’m going home y/n, i’ll order an uber just please leave me alone.”

“You’re seriously not mad about the kiss are you?”

Alessia let out an exasperated sigh. “You tell me y/n, maybe i’ll go and make out with one of our teammates and see how it makes you feel.” She wasn’t even looking at you while saying all this, instead typing something out on her phone.

“Oh come on, we wasn’t making out. You’re being ridiculous.” Alessia wasn’t the only one annoyed now. You was simply playing the game and just so happened to be the person the bottle stopped on, you didn’t get what the big deal was.

“Y/n you had your tongues down each other’s throats, it was more than ‘just a peck’. Last time I checked Leah isn’t your girlfriend - I am.” It was clear the forward was getting emotional with the tiny but noticeable cracks in her voice.

“Yeah exactly; i’m your girlfriend, so I don’t see what the big fuss is about. I’m not about to run off into the sunset with Williamson.” Speaking of the devil, Leah and Keira come outside and walked towards you. “Everything okay out here?”

“Just dandy! Leah can you please tell Alessia over here that our kiss didn’t mean anything.” As if realisation just sunk in Leah raised her eyebrows, “Shit sorry Less, I didn’t even think about you and y/n - but I can promise the kiss was only in fun.”

Alessia gave a halfhearted smile. “It’s okay Lee, i’m not mad at you. You are single after all.” Now turning back and glaring at you. “So you’re mad at me and not Leah? fucking hell Less I don’t know what you want from me.” Holding your hands up in the air incredulously. Kiera nudged your side clearly wanting this ordeal to be over with “Just apologise to her y/n.”

“Apologise for what?! playing the game? following the rules? She’s acting like i’ve committed a crime for pete’s sake!”

“You’re insufferable sometimes y/n, you really are. Don’t bother coming home tonight.” As if on cue, a white toyota prius came rolling up outside the house, the blonde getting into the back seat. Watching as it made a u-turn and drive off, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Come on y/n, you can crash at mine for the night and find a way to get back into her good books.” the barcelona player offered.

You nodded and re-entered the house just to gather your belongings and say bye to everyone. It’s safe to say you found it hard to fall asleep without the warm presence next to you that you’ve become accustomed to over the last year. The alcohol effects had started to wear off and you replayed the events from earlier in your head.

Looking back you could see how you may of overreacted and got defensive a little too quick. ‘Why am I such a dickhead’ You grabbed your phone and debated texting the hurt girl but chickened out, figuring you’re the last person she wants to hear from at this very moment.

You figured the best plan of action was to wake up early and talk to Alessia and hope it will resolve the issue, shutting your eyes trying to fall into a slumber.

Making your way out the apartment at around 9am after saying thanks to Kiera you headed to the local corner shop deciding to buy your girlfriend’s favourite chocolate and get her a bouquet of flowers. While you knew gifts shouldn’t exactly be used as a way to excuse your behaviour, you gathered it couldn’t make things any worse than what they were.

Lucky for you, Kiera’s apartment wasn’t far from yours, only a twenty minute walk or so which you was grateful for because winter mornings in england weren’t exactly the warmest. Knocking on the door you wait for it to be opened. The younger girl answered and looked you up and down before reluctantly moving to the side so you could slide in.

“Hey.” You’re the first one to speak as Alessia heads into the lounge. She was wearing her favourite pair of grey sweatpants and a navy blue crew neck t-shirt, not to mention her blue slippers that had smiley faces embroidered onto them. Damn did she look good you thought but best not to say out loud given your current circumstances.

“So I had a think over how I reacted last night and I can see how I was in the wrong and just wanted to apologise.” You pulled out the chocolate and flowers that was hiding behind your back “-And I know it’s no consolation but I got you these.” Alessia took them from you and placed them down on the coffee table.

“It’s okay y/n, I had a think last night too and guess I overreacted to the whole kiss situation.” Scooting closer to her, you take her hands. “No Less; your feelings were totally valid and I completely ignored them. You’re right, I’m your partner - I shouldn’t be kissing other people, even if it is just for a game.”

The blonde sighed, “I guess I just felt a little threatened by Leah after seeing you two kiss.” You was now confused. “Threatened?”

“Oh come on y/n, youse two are always bantering and playfully flirting, not to mention in training the both of you are always laughing together about something. I even thought you were dating when I first met you both.” The mention of this made you feel bad, never did you intend to make Alessia feel like this. While you and Leah may be overly close, you’d never date one another.

“Babe, if there’s any woman out there for me; it’s you. Clearly i’ve not been a very good girlfriend if i’ve made you feel insecure in our relationship, i’m sorry.”

You offered your arms out and waited for Alessia to give into the hug. She slid under your arm and rested her head on your chest. “Are we okay?” You asked now stroking your hand through her golden locks. “We’re okay.” She confirmed.

Breathing a sigh of relief you leant down and kissed her head. “Good. Being in Alessia Russo’s doghouse was not fun.”

It’s not everyday someone like you ends up with a girl like Alessia and clearly you took it for granted. As you sat there in contentment, you vowed to yourself to never let something stupid get in the way of your relationship again.

[dromaeo-sauridae]

big cave post

you like caves? no? im showing you anyway. you hear cave and probably think of like, a video game cave. maybe a minecraft cave with axolotls? while i have my gripes with axolotls in caves, this is about the caves themselves. so here, lets get started:

number 1, lod cave in thailand. now, i could do a whole posts about JUST caves in thailand, but here's your first taste of caves from this area. this is a karst cave, formed by water trickling through soluble rock like limestone. it's what most of the caves on this list are going to be. it's one of the most common types of caves. if you've been inside a cave, it was probably a karst. very cool! i particularly enjoy the man shaped stalagmite in the middle (joke, thats just a real guy)

number 2, ellison's cave in georgia, usa. featuring a drop over a thousand feet deep, this one is pretty high on my bucket list. this is what's called a chute, formed by waterfalls cascading downwards. not recommended for people with a fear of heights! if you watch jacon geller, youve probably heard of this type of formation when he talked about krubera (not on this list, sadly)

number 3, mammoth cave in kentucky, usa. one i've been to! mammoth is the longest cave system in the ENTIRE world, that we know of. another one the jacob geller fans are familiar with. i would love to go back someday, pictures dont convey the magnitude of this place. they also used to host church services in here. well worth the visit

number 4, han son doong in vietnam. the LARGEST cave in the world! wait, didnt i already list that? nope, while mammoth is the longest and is massive in its own right, son doong trumps it by having a ceiling 660 feet (200 meters) high. it has stalagmites the size of skyscrapers. its one of the many caves in southeast asia to have its own rainforest system. a bit of a hike to get there, but another i desperately want to visit someday.

number 5, fingal's cave in scotland. though not record setting, its one youve probably seen before. or, maybe my perspective has been skewed as someone who looks at a LOT of caves. ive seen this exact picture more times than i can count. its a sea cave formed from our good friend columnar basalt. upon further research, apparently its also known for its natural acoustics. the more you know!

number 6, grotta azurra in capri. that photo isnt edited! only accessible by boat (and laying flat on your back to get through the entrance) this place looks ridiculously magical. i dont really have much to say about this one, i just think its really cool.

number 7, domica cave in slovakia. this one was brought to my attention by an anonymous asker (if youre still here hi) and i am in love with it. just an absolutely gorgeous cave with some of the most beautiful formations ive ever seen. just look at it! augh! the tiered pools arent something ive seen in any of the caves ive been to and theyre captivating. i love caves.

number 8, ending it off with a bang. here's the gloup.

[russo-woso]

hi, do you write for Niamh Charles? if so, maybe one where reader makes her debut for England and scores the winning goal but then ends up injured pretty badly in the game and Niamh realizes her feelings for her?

Yes, I do write for Niamh! I love Niamh, except for the fact she plays for Chelsea, but anyways, here is I really really like you.

I really really like you | Niamh Charles

Warning slight injury, and just Niamh being protective.

Over the past two weeks, the only thing you could think about was England camp.

You had received your first England call up from Sarina for the matches against The Netherlands and Scotland.

You knew it was bound to come at some point. You had been playing exceptionally well for Manchester City and England’s U23.

At just age 22, you were Manchester City’s first choice as CAM.

You were excited to be playing with the seniors, the feeling of being at a sold out Wembley, but also to see a certain defender.

Niamh Charles.

You had barely spoken to Niamh. You shared a few sentences, if you could even call it that, when playing against Chelsea.

You weren’t going to deny it, you couldn’t deny it because it was so obvious, you had a huge crush on Niamh.

From the way her hair falls when she takes it out in matches, to the way how her hand feels in yours when you shake hands.

You didn’t know why you liked Niamh, I mean, she’d never like you back. Would she?

————————

You travelled down to St George’s Park with the city girls.

It was a relatively easy drive down. There was no traffic, but as soon as you got there, you wish there had of been.

Your heart was racing.

Thoughts went rushing through your mind. What if you didn’t play good? What if Sarina made a mistake inviting you into the squad? What if you embarrass yourself in front of Niamh?

“Y/N, you coming?” Esme asked you as she started to walk inside, quickly stopping to look back at you.

“Yeah.” You replied, hesitancy in your voice.

“Y/N/N, you’ll do fine. I know it’s a big change and thoughts are running through your mind right now. But you belong here.” Esme told you, quickly hugging you before walking inside.

You followed her in, dragging your suitcase behind you.

You enter the lobby first, finding out who your roommate was.

You were roommates with her.

You grabbed your keycard, making your way up to the second floor, before lightly tapping it on your door.

It granted you access, and you walked inside hesitantly.

“Hi, it’s Y/N, isn’t it? I’m Niamh.” Niamh welcomed you into the room. You couldn’t help but notice how voice stuttered a few times when she spoke.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N, it’s nice to properly meet you. I feel like we’re always in such a rush after matches that I’ve never really met you.” You joked and Niamh agreed with a small laugh.

It was already late by the time you had gotten there so you were already tired and ready to get to sleep.

“Everyone’s going down to the relaxation room just now if you want to come.” Niamh asked, playing with the hairs on the back of her neck.

“I would but it’s been a long journey down here and I’m tired so I might just head to bed.” You explained, also stuttering some of your words due to being so nervous.

“Are you sure?” She questioned, just double checking, and you replied with a smile and a nod. “Okay, well, sleep well.”

With that, she left the room, the door clicking shut.

The only thing that replayed on your mind was the conversation, the way how your voice stuttered as you spoke to her.

She had to know that you liked her now, with the stuttering, the sweat that was starting to build up on your forehead.

After sitting in a silence whilst you thought back of your previous conversation, a small beeping in noice was heard from the door and it opened.

Niamh walked inside and you gave her a confused look.

“I couldn’t leave you here alone. Not when it’s your first night.” Niamh explained and you shook your head at her explanation, guilt washing all over your body.

“Niamh, no, seriously I’m fine. You go downstairs if you want to.” You told her

“Everyone down there’s boring. And anyway, we’ll be stuck with them for the next week so one night not seeing them will do me good.” She justified and settled herself on her bed. “I thought we could find a film to watch.”

And that’s exactly what you did. You both agreed on a movie and spoke the entire night.

The tiredness you felt completely went away as you spoke to Niamh.

You spoke, you laughed, you told stories.

It was safe to say that you didn’t just like Niamh anymore, you were utterly in love with her.

————————

The rest of the week sped by, with training taking up the mornings and then spending the afternoon with your new friends.

Over the week, You quickly befriended Alessia Russo and Ella Toone. The duo quickly becoming a trio.

You got along with them well and you spent most of your afternoons with them.

The week had sped by so quickly, that you were all currently on your way to Wembley.

On the way, Sarina announced the lineup.

Sarina didn’t read out your name but assured you that would definitely be subbed on later on in the game.

Niamh, who was sat next to you on the coach, cheered for you, and rested her head on your shoulder.

“I’m so happy for you. Your first England debut.” Niamh said, looking up at you.

“Thanks, Niamhy.”

————————

The team had down amazing to come back.

At half time, they were down 2-0, but with two goals in two minutes, they were now equal with the Netherlands.

In the 68’, Sarina told you and Alessia to take off your bibs.

You stood with her as she told you tactics she had picked up.

Whilst waiting for the ball to go out of play, Alessia stood next to you.

It was so cold that you were basically cuddled up to one another.

She congratulated you on my debut, patting you on my back as the announcement was made.

It was announced you’d be subbed off for Georgia.

She ran off the pitch high fiving you, before you ran on.

The game continued and there was still no goals come the 90’.

You had been playing incredibly, proving to everyone why Sarina had called you up.

In the first minute of injury time, Lauren James crossed the ball into the box and you were in a perfect position to run onto it.

Without taking a touch, you nutmegged the Dutch keeper and the ball ended up being in the back of the net.

Your teammates surrounded you, enveloping you in a hug.

Once everyone pulled away, Niamh pulled you in again.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N/N.” She whispered in your ear.

“Thank you, Niamhy.” You said, using the nickname you’d given her.

You noticed her cheeks flush a light red and with the confidence you felt, you pressed your lips onto the red pigment before running back to your position.

Two minutes later, you had another chance in the penalty box.

Lucy played a long ball into the box and you jumped to header it.

The next thing you knew, something connected with your head but it wasn’t the ball.

The Dutch keeper had jumped up to punch the ball away but instead, had punched you.

You fell to the floor limply as blood made it way from your nose.

You groaned in pain and your hand went flying to your nose and you head.

Alessia was the first one to you, crouching down and stroking your hair to comfort you.

Everything was blurry, you couldn’t think straight but all you could think of was Niamh.

All you wanted was Niamh.

Instead of going straight to you, Niamh marched over to the keeper, Daphne van Domselaar, and pushed her straight to the floor.

“Look what you’ve done to her! You fucking bitch!” Niamh shouted at Daphne.

You winced at the sudden shouting, the pain searing through your head.

“Niamh, I want Niamh.” You managed to get out to Alessia.

As the medics got to you, Alessia left to get Niamh for you.

Within seconds, Niamh was crouched down next to you.

She gently picked up your head, getting approval from the medics, and laid it in her lap.

You reached out for her hand, which she squeezed lightly.

“Y/N/N, you’re so brave. You’re going to be okay, I promise.” She said, tears running down her cheeks as she stroked your hair.

Your teammates gathered round, awing at you and Niamh.

They were certain that by tomorrow morning, you and Niamh would be a couple.

The medics put you onto the stretcher and lifted you upwards.

You watched as Niamh was taken aside by the ref and was given a red card.

Niamh accepted the red card. One, she thought Daphne deserved what she got, even if it wasn’t her fault, and two, she got to be with you whilst you were treated.

She ran to catch up with you and the medics, taking your hand in hers and walked towards the tunnel.

————————

“Why did you do it?” You asked Niamh once the medics had gone.

They had confirmed that you had a broken nose and a concussion.

“Do what?” Niamh asked back, giving you a sympathetic look as she looked at the stained blood on your face.

“Punch Van Domselaar. Get a red card. She didn’t do it on purpose.” You said and Niamh looked down at the floor. “Niamhy.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Niamh whispered, barely being able to hear herself, let alone you.

“Why?” Confusion took over your face, not knowing why she didn’t want you to call her that.

“Because it kills me to hear you say it when I know you don’t like me. It kills me thinking back to tonight when you were on the floor. It kills me to think about our late night conversation when I know that after camp, everything will go back to normal.” Niamh revealed and once more, tears fell from her eyes.

“Niamh, what makes you think I don’t like you back?” You asked, as her head jerked upwards, revealing her blue eyes, full of hope. “I’ve liked you since I played against you for the first time. The amount of times I’ve Instagram stalked you just so I can see your smile. It’s killed me knowing this past week that we’ve grown closer and closer but I’ll never be able to call you mine.”

“You like me back?”

“Of course I do Niamhy. Who wouldn’t? You are the most kindest, most beautiful, loving person I’ve ever met, with a hint of protectiveness…” you joked, referring to the events early tonight. “…Who wouldn’t like you back? Definitely not me. I really really like you, Niamh. I have done for a while.”

“I really really like you too.” She said, a huge smile appearing on her face as she inched closer to your face.

You could practically feel her breath on your lips as she stopped her movements.

You took the final step in connecting your lips.

It was so gentle, both of you too scared to move, trying not to overwhelm one another. And the fact you’ve got a broken nose.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course, Niamhy.”

[dduane]

Hey! Just wanted to drop in and let you know that my Star Trek Book Club is reading our way though Spock’s World right now! I love the Horta crewmember so much. Would be cool to hear any thoughts you have on the book, as its writer!

Sure!

Work on the book started while @petermorwood and I were still roaming around the UK, trying to figure out where we wanted to live.

It was around then that Pocket Books decided that the success of their first Star Trek novels as paperbacks suggested they might want to try a hardcover and see how it went. Up until that point I'd written three Trek novels for them—The Wounded Sky and My Enemy, My Ally, and with Peter, The Romulan Way—and as far as I can tell, a combination of strong sales figures and very positive reviews led the editors at Pocket to choose me to do the first hardcover.

(Adding a cut here, because this runs longish. Caution: contains severe weather, peripatetic writers, [offstage] Highland cattle, and [because hindsight is always 20/20...] author idiocy.)

If I remember correctly, the go-to-hardcover decision was made in 1987. The book's outlining would have happened in the winter of that year, while we were staying in Scotland: the post over here talks about that a littie.

Not very long after that we made our where-to-live decision, headed to Ireland, and moved into a little rented terrace house in north county Wicklow, not far from Annie McCaffrey's place. Once we were installed there, I started work on the first draft of Spock's World.

This, though, is where a tragedy almost occurred.

Electric-power infrastructure can sometimes be an issue in rural areas of Ireland. And one night, in the middle of a thunderstorm, the post-top transformer nearest us in our little housing estate was struck by lightning. The ensuing power surge (or just possibly an EMP associated with it: jury's still out...) fried my computer.

Fortunately, most of my working disks were okay. But the last 40K+ words of the novel survived only in fragmentary form... and when I tried to reassemble those chapters from the backups, I discovered that the backups were corrupt. And the book was due at the publisher—by which I mean printed and FedExed to NY: no one was equipped back then to deal with emailed manuscript files—in two weeks.

Needless to say, things around the house then got a bit frantic. I wound up having to completely rewrite nearly the entire back half of the book from memory, as I did not have a printout. (So you'll understand that for the last few decades, hard copy [or PDFs] and backups, and backups of backups, have become something of an obsession for me. These days I use Backblaze, with which I'm extremely pleased: it runs constantly in the background, updating things in realtime as you do, and has numerous smart ways to recover your material if you need it.)

At any rate, my memory's fortunately fairly good for material I've just recently written. And I have to say that in retrospect this whole escapade may have been a blessing in disguise... as I strongly believe that the rewritten material was significantly better than in the draft that would originally have gone to the publisher. The printout went to the publisher just in time to hit that particular production deadline. The only thing really messed up in the aftermath was my back, which gave me grief for months afterward. My advice on this count: never write 40K+ words in two weeks in a straight-backed chair. :/

Anyway, there was a happy ending when the book came out: it spent eight weeks on the Times list, which was nice. (In pretty good company, too...) :)

And shortly Pocket asked me to do another hardcover. So that was nice too.

Anyway, that's the tale.

Hope this has helped! And give the book club my best. :)

[narcissistcookbook]

about thirteen or fourteen years ago @inkylizard told me about this show Sleep No More (description beneath the cut) they'd seen in an early run in Boston, and i had such bittersweet feelings listening to them talk about it because 1) it was absolutely my kind of thing, and 2) it was basically impossible to see it because it was so far away (i'm Scotland-based)

and since then i probably thought about the show more than most people who have seen it. i ended up working some of what kit described to me into my own music and shows, in a very vague sense

anyway, fast forward over a decade and i'm in NYC for ten days prior to tour and kit tells me that Sleep No More is still on, and it's about to close forever so this is my first and last chance to see it

so anyway

i finally saw it and it was amazing. for once hype wasn't the joy killer. it was inspiring and empowering and it's made me want to explore some of the more outlandish ideas that have been tickling my brain in terms of music writing/performance

i almost went again today, but low energy mixed with a fear of not wanting to dilute the magic by returning to the source convinced me otherwise. i think it means more to me to wait over a decade to see it, and then never be able to see it again.

Brief description of Sleep No More if you haven't seen it and aren't aware of it, told from the perspective of someone who had it described to them once and then saw it once 13 years later and has done no reading or research beyond that. Apologies if I describe it in a way that makes you squirm and go "nooo you aren't explaining it right" 💜

Sleep No More is an adaptation of Macbeth told mostly through the medium of Dance and Vibes. It takes place across the breadth and depth of an entire five floor building called the McKittrick Hotel, which is a dreamlike network of TV/movie-quality sets (a ballroom, a hotel, a city apartment, hell, a street of open shops, a mental hospital, a forest, witches' dens, a huge room full clocks connected to a tiny prayer vestibule, there's too many to mention) and masked audience members are encouraged to wander freely and explore the entirety of the building in any way they like

all the sets are fully explorable and designed to be examined in close detail. if you dig around you'll find letters, medical records, diaries, a fully stocked and unguarded sweet shop, hidden dressing rooms, discarded props, again much more than I could list off here. rooms have backrooms which have other backrooms. secret passageways connect parts of the building/story to other parts.

and through all this the cast are whirling and screeching and sprinting from place to another with little regard for who is or isn't following their storyline. at one point I was one of only two people watching an actor sew up a disembowled teddybear in a child's bedroom - and in the mirror, the same bedroom was reflected covered in blood. at another I was the only person watching a nurse tuck a man made of rocks into a hospital bed. at another, I turned a corner and one of the witches (with about twenty people in tow struggling to keep up) barrelled into me on their way to a scene elsewhere (he stopped and gave me a boop on the nose). another time, i walked into what I thought was an empty interrogation room only to realise after *far too long* that one of the characters was hiding in there with me

and on top of all this, each character has a scene they will only perform to one other audience member chosen by them

the magic for me is that not only can you not see the whole show in a single visit, but that it's basically impossible for anyone to see the whole show period no matter how hard they try. someone i know has seen it seven times and i've seen parts of it that they didn't even know about. it creates a sense of longing for what you'll never see, a sense of loss for the parts you missed, and a deep sense of personal connection with what you were lucky enough to see

what a banger

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi, I would love recs for mclennon fics dripping in sexual tension, like six hours in August by stonedlennon. It doesn't need to have explicit sexual content. Thank you!

Thank you so, so much for this ask—this is a category of fiction I personally enjoy *a lot* (imagine Paul's "I slept with John..." pronunciation).

Here are some favorites that came to my mind. Some have sex on the page, others do not; I remember all of these as having excellent Tension™. I hope you find something you like here! Young J/P:

Streets of Your Town (@with-eyes-closed): Sensual. The upheaval in young Paul's mind as he falls in love with music and John, without putting a name to it. As of yet unfinished, but it's so good I rec it anyway, because it's...[read to find out, take a fan]

All I Know Since Yesterday (RedheadAmongWolves): Paul and John's first kiss at Paul's, after long, sweet hours of trembling fear/excitement. Paul POV.

The Way Things Sometimes Are (@paisanas): Young John is troubled and pining for Paul. Paul is mesmerizing through his eyes.

now and then (there's a fool such as I) (@stonedlennon): The Nerk Twins take the bus to Caversham and share a bed. You can smell the summer grass and the sweaty leathers...

(Ain't no cure for the) summertime blues (orphan_account): John and Paul alone on a hot summer day.

The Photograph (thinkpink20): John finds a Photograph Mike took of Paul and notices...things.

Hamburg:

ageless children, animal sweat (eyeball2eyeball): Read this story to spend time in John's throbbing, unhinged Hamburg mind. No sex on the page, and yet. It's *everywhere*. For such a short story, it takes up a lot of room in my brain. The Paul in this story is one of my favorite Pauls.

Sinful City (thinkpink20). Days and Nights in Hamburg. Paul needs John, and stops questioning things.

In Margaret Asher's music room:

Tell You Something (@louiselux). Lennon and McCartney write "I Want to Hold Your Hand." The tension rises.

In or near Paul's Geodesic Dome:

shotgunning (@pauls1967moustache): John and Paul languidly try something new...

Chrysalis (cloudy_blue): Tension in 1967. Hypnotic and stylish, I love it.

Stop all the Clocks (@javelinbk): After Brian's death, John and Paul retreat to Scotland. Grief and awakening ensue...slowly and sweetly.

Greece:

Way Up Top (@boshemians). Snapshots of J/P desire and spiraling doubts, contained in the Beatles' trip to Greece to buy an island.

Nineteen Sixty-Eight:

Outro (bakerstreetafternoon). From the Summary: 'Had it been this tension that had kept them together? Had it always?'

Bad Luck to Talk (7intheevening): Paul chats with JohnandYoko at a party and follows them home for a cup of tea. What hurts more exquisitly than pining? Unacknowledged pining.

John I'm Only Dancing (@skylikeaflame): Amidst the insanity of the Mad Day Out, desire erupts relentlessly.

The 70's as they should have been:

Down on the Farm (RosalindBeatrice): Incredibly hot and realistic (and funny in just right amounts!). John visits Paul in Nashville; Paul shows off Wings and the family, John stays the night. Dot dot dot.

I can only speak my mind (@paisanas): John's diaries are leaked to the press and printed; Paul reads them. What follows is the sexual awakening of James Paul McCartney as he reads of John's feelings for him. First rate pining, past and present.

I still miss someone/ I know that I miss you, but I don't know where I stand/ close the door lightly when you go (RosalindBeatrice): John and Paul meet in 1976. There is a spark. Few and far between meetings follow.

The Other Eighties (John lives and experiences sexual tension with Paul):

and when broken bodies are washed ashore (who am i to ask for more) (wardo wedidit): John divorces Yoko and visits Paul in Scotland. Soul searching and relationship mending.

The Birthday Party (@merseydreams): John and Paul meet at Ringo's Birthday Party. There is only one bed.

Tension through the Years:

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes (@savageandwise). John is turned on by Paul smoking. 1958—1969.

[volturissideslut]

𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖔𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖙

It's 7am so here's drop number 7

The cold crisp air of Scotland pierces through your skin, even on a warm day like today. Sunlight wafts through the curtains and you can almost smell the dewey grass from your place in bed. Not that you’re going to leave, anyway. The warmth sucks you back in, as well as your human radiator of a boyfriend who has his arms wrapped around you, keeping you safe and secure, pulled against his chest.

The rise and fall from his breathing has you entranced in your bleary morning state, and while you would love to stay and keep cosy and work you really, really, need to pee. However, one slight predicament is that your squirming in attempt to get out of his hold is doing absolute nish. 

“Theo, theo please” you tap at his arm incessantly, getting nothing but a tired hum from him. Fine, if that’s how he wants it to be time to pull out the big guns. With one forceful gesture you sit up straight, not that he's bothered, and then loudly announce that you’re headed back to your own common room  to ‘study with Charlie from potions’, a shy guy with an obvious crush on you according to Theo.

Now he’s up.

“Oh, no your not,” his voice is deep from the morning “I’m top of class, you’ll study with me” his arms wrap around your sides and tug you closer. Not so gracefully, you fall back and your head hits the pillow. If your darling boyfriend had opened his eyes and saw then he would definitely be smirking right now from how that was just meant to be.

“You won’t have a girlfriend to study with if you don’t let me go to the loo Theo!”

With a dramatic huff and a fake whinge he lets go, sitting up with a dopey smile to watch you scurry off. 

When you get back you just straight back into his bed, huddling close and stealing his warmth. A welcome change from the cool air. Theo sits back, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. Teasingly, he pokes your side. “Thought you had to leave and study with good old Charlie?”

“I lied” you cling to him, physically moving his arms for him so that they wrap around you like earlier.

"I know" he chuckles.

[jeankluv]

The forgotten boy - Suguru Geto | Chapter 06

words: 3k

summary: He made a deal with the devil, over 1,000 years ago. Just for the sake of his loved ones but the deal came with a condition. Everyone he met from that moment on, would forget about his existence within minutes, and will be like that for the rest of the eternity

Like that Geto Suguru lived for 1,000 years, being forgotten by everyone he met, not being remembered by anyone and being alone.

"You remember me?"

You nodded. “Of course I do.” You smiled. “You have been coming here for a few days now. Always at the same hour and always asking for the same coffee.”

tags: angst, fluff, fantasy au, different lifetimes, dual pov, use of y/n, fem!character, modern settings but also past settings, eventual smut, destiny, characters death (in the flashbacks), blood

notes: it’s been a long time since I posted, but here there is a new chapter ❤️

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3

Suguru leaned against the lamppost in front of the building, waiting for the familiar figure to come out and go to work. According to the schedule he had posted on his refrigerator, he had to go to work at eight, so he would leave the house early.

Not even close to 10 minutes passed when Suguru saw his “friend” come out of his building with a shotgun. Allowing another 10 minutes to pass, to make sure that Nanami would not return, Suguru entered the building with a smile and went up to the floor. Although he had told you that he had lost the keys it was a lie, obviously, but that apartment didn't need keys to enter either. That was why it had been so easy for him to settle in that place.

Suguru got rid of his clothes and got into the shower. Letting the water run over his body, he relaxed and felt peace settle into him. He didn’t know how long he was under the warm water, but Suguru didn't care, he let the falling water take away the worries from his body, take away that disturbing feeling he had felt in the subway. He let it go down the drain.

With the towel wrapped around his waist and his hair still wet, Suguru left the bathroom and headed to the kitchen. The sun shone clearly in the sky and it seemed to Suguru that everything had much more color, as if the gray tones that had been accompanying him for so long were being painted in bright colors. And he knew who was responsible behind it.

“Wow… so this is the place you now call home?” A voice that passed through Suguru's body filled the silence of the house.

Suguru turned around in horror to confirm the owner of that voice. “Kenjaku…”

“Don’t look at me like that Suguru.” A smile was drawn on his face. “Haven’t you missed me? It’s been, how long since the last time 50, 60 years?”

“80.” Suguru said with his eyes narrowed.

“Oh yeah! 80 years, you were in Scotland at that time, right?” Kenjaku approached the fruit bowl and picked up one of the apples. “Back then the world was a mess, although now… humans are still just as useless.” Juice with the apple.

“Kenjaku, what are you doing here.” He demanded to know Suguru, as he crossed his arms.

“Checking on you. Lately you seem happy.” A shiver ran through Suguru upon hearing Kenjaku's words and he felt like his heart skipped a beat. “Don’t worry Suguru I won’t do anything, I was just curious.” He laughed.

“Stay away from her.” Suguru murmured with his fists clenched and his gaze sharp.

“Oh… yeah I will stay away.” He smiled, biting the apple. “Don’t worry.” Kenjaku moved across the kitchen and smiled at Suguru again. “Anyway, my dear Suguru.” He patted his shoulder gently. "We will see each other again."

A gust of wind came through the window causing Suguru to close his eyes tightly and by the time he opened them again the figure of that person, if you could call it that way, was no longer there. Suguru let the air out of his lungs and rested his hands on the kitchen island, looking for a foothold. His eyes then focused on the rotten apple that Kenjaku had left there.

The knot he had in his stomach became bigger and Suguru felt himself trembling at that moment. He knew Kenjaku well enough to know that many times his words and promises were empty.

Taking the apple, he threw it in the trash and leaned against the cold wall of the apartment, with his eyes closed and thinking about that blurry memory.

—1,000 years ago

Suguru was exhausted, he didn't even know how many days they had been in that place. But it seemed that the curses and everything that was before them could not be defeated.

He rested his forehead on his hand and sighed looking at the map of the territory where they were. They were far from the capital Heian-kyō but if those curses continued to advance at the rate they did, they could reach the capital before winter arrived and that would be catastrophic.

At 6 years old he didn't want to believe the stories of his best friend's mother, but 20 years later there he was trying to find a way to stop those monsters.

It had been 10 years since Suguru, along with Satoru had left their hometown and joined the ranks of the emperor's army as cadets, hoping to one day occupy the highest positions. The first great honor came when they were both 21, after defeating a high ranked evil spirit, the two best friends were received with honor by the emperor and promoted in their rank.

After that the two continued to achieve success and now at 26, Suguru was general of one of the divisions. Suguru's division was near Fuji, in fact the soldiers could admire how the mountain rose in the distance with just stepping outside their tents. Meanwhile the division led by Satoru was located near the capital, in the Owari area.

Suguru punched one of the map figurines and tilted his head back, letting out a big sigh in the process. He was tired of fighting so much, he just wanted to return home once and for all.

“General Geto.” A young voice interrupted his thoughts.

Suguru fixed his gaze on the young boy that was standing in front of him, he probably wasn’t older than 18 years but Suguru could tell his determination was strong. “Yes?”

“That monk is here again.” Suguru sighed and touched his temple, trying to calm down the pain on his head. “He wants to talk with you.”

Suguru resentfully nodded. “Let him in.” The boy nodded and left the tent.

No more than 5 minutes passed when that person that Suguru had already met, entered. The atmosphere inside the tent changed drastically and Suguru felt the hair on his entire body stand on end. He didn't understand why he let him enter or talk to him, when that person's entire aura screamed danger.

“Hello general Geto.” The monk smiled at him and a shiver ran down Suguru's spine, that smile did not bring him any good feeling.

“You have been trying to see me for the last three weeks.” Suguru composed himself and tried to look as rough as possible, without showing an iota of weakness.

“Oh just, you know these curses are really strong and I think my help could be useful.”

Suguru shook his head. “Can a monk do anything against those curses, specifically against the king?” Suguru replied.

“General Geto, I am not a monk.” A smile appeared on his face. “I am a sorcerer and of course I can help you defeat them.”

Suguru bit his tongue, the idea sounded tempting but he didn't like that person. He knew there was something in his aura that worried him and he wanted him away from there as soon as possible.

“We don’t need your help.” Suguru sentenced and pointed to the exit for that person to leave.

The person laughed and stood up walking towards the exit. “My name is Kenjaku.” He smiled. “When you need me, General Geto just call me and we can make a deal.”

And in the blink of an eye the one who had called himself Kenjaku disappeared from Suguru's sight as if he had never been there. Suguru dropped into his chair and touched his chest, hoping that his heart was still there. He did not understand what that meeting had been, nor that gloomy aura that he had felt. But he just hoped it was the last time he would have to witness it.

—Present day

With his hand again on his chest Suguru checked if his heart was still there. It was.

Suguru leaned back and took a deep breath, feeling how his chest was squeezing him and not letting him breathe. He didn't trust Kenjaku or his intentions, for 1,000 years he had made him suffer and he knew it wasn't going to end.

Suguru was afraid, he was terrified. For the first time in a long time he had found something that made him happy, that made him feel alive and he wanted to continue exploring it but knowing that Kenjaku's threat could harm you... Suguru wanted to continue being happy like those few days, he wanted to continue going to your cafeteria and be welcomed with your smile. He knew his heart could be full thanks to you, you would fill it with your voice and your warmth.

Suguru clenched his fists and a growl came from the back of his throat, he needed to clear his head and in that apartment, which didn't belong to him, he couldn't do it. Changing his clothes and preparing a small bag with some changes, he left Nanami's apartment.

Suguru left the building and began to walk, aimlessly, only knowing that he needed to clear the storm of anguish and agony that had formed in his mind with Kenjaku's appearance before him.

On the other side of the city, you moved behind the bar, preparing coffees and whatever they asked for non-stop. Apparently all the customers had decided to come to the cafeteria at the same time. You and Yuji had not been able to take a single break since you had opened the cafeteria that day and your legs were already feeling the pain.

“Hello!” A singing voice made you look up.

You smiled when you saw who it was, despite wearing her dark glasses and her mouth mask, you could identify your best friend anywhere. “Hime!” You greeted with a smile.

“How are you?” She asked.

“Pretty busy as you can see.” You looked around. “I don’t know why we have so many customers here today.”

“Yeah…” She laughed. “That might be my fault.”

You looked at her confused. “What did you do?”

“I posted a picture with one of your cups and…” She looked around and then at you shrugging her shoulder.

“I can’t believe you.” You sighed. “I mean thanks but isn't it a bit risky to come here?”

“Yeah but I wanted to see how you were handling things.”

“I’m a bit tired but… it’s okay.” You smiled.

“Tomorrow it’s your free day, right?” Utahime took your hand. “Let me invite you to a spa or something.”

“I can’t.” Utahime tilted her head confused. “I have a date.” You smiled shyly.

“What?!” She gasped with a loud scream.

Everyone on the place turned to look at both of you and it that moment you realize how fucked Utahime was, because it was clear that some people recognize her.

“Shit…” She whispered.

“Yeah…” You took her hand and guide her to the back where only employees could enter.

People began to crowd around with their cell phones taking photos of Utahime and shouting her name. Sometimes you wondered how your friend could endure all that, how she didn't get dizzy with the flashes and the screams of all the people.

“I’m so sorry y/n…” She said, taking off her glasses and mask.

“It’s okay, after all you are a superstar.” You smiled, not giving much importance to the matter.

“Still…” She sighed and sat down on a chair.

“Hime, don’t give yourself a hard time for this, it’s okay…”

Utahime nodded and then smiled. “Now tell me about your date.”

“Oh…” You chuckled feeling your cheeks burn. “Well, he is a customer that usually comes here.” Utahime was paying full attention to your words, with her gaze being completely focused on you. “We… well we actually went to eat lunch a few days ago and tomorrow we will be meeting again.” You played with your hands.

Utahime had her mouth completely opened, processing your words. “How come you didn’t tell me anything?”

“I don’t know, a lot of things happened.” You pursed your lips remembering what happened yesterday.

“Shoko told me.” Utahime said. “Those ugly bastards don’t know anything about art.”

“They are from an art gallery…”

“Still, they are tasteless. Your paintings are amazing, breathtaking, god they deserve to be exposed in the best museums.” Utahime said angrily. “You know that I can take them down, right?”

Of course you knew how powerful Utahime was and how her words were able to make others fall. “I know, but there is no need.” You sat on the chair. “I just need to become better… that’s it.” You sadly smiled.

“Y/n…” Utahime murmured.

“You know.” You stood up. “I should go out there, poor Yuji is all on his own.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She nodded. “I’m sorry for all that.” She pointed to the outside.

You shook your head. “Now maybe we’ll get more tips.” You joked. “You already know where the emergency exit is, right?” Utahime nodded. “Well, then I'll see you soon?”

"Probably." Utahime stood up. “I have some pending matters and I am starting to prepare the next album but we can meet.” She smiled. “Because I'm going to need to know more about that date of yours.”

“I know the three of you will give me a hard time.” You joked.

“Yuki is also seeing someone so, me and Shoko, we will be giving both of you a hard time.” She joked back. “Take care.” She hugged.

“You too Hime.” You waved goodbye at her and went back to work.

The place was so crowded and Yuji behind the counter seemed to be trying to make everything the best he could. You quickly started serving and attending the new customers, most of them were looking for Utahime or were there because of her post and asking for the same coffee as her.

Once the last customer was served, you looked at Yuji and sighed in relief.

“Y/n…” Yuji spoke and you hummed in response. “You know Utahime?!” He said out loud.

“Yuji! Lower your voice.” You said, noticing how the eyes of the customers were on you.

“Sorry… but for real, you know her?”

You nodded and Yuji gasped in response. “We went to high school together and she is one of my closest friends.” Yuji had his mouth opened. “Why are you so shocked?”

“It’s just… that wow, you know more famous people?” He asked and you shook your head. “Oh…”

“Why? Do you have a favorite celebrity or something?” You tilted your head scanning his face.

“Yes!” He smiled wildly. “I love Megan Thee Stallion.” You opened your mouth in surprise.

“I don’t know if she knows Megan personally, I could ask her and maybe get you something.” Yuji looked at you with his eyes wide open.

“You would?” You nodded. “Oh! I love you so much y/n.”

You giggled and shook your head. “I can’t promise you much but I will do what I can.” Yuji nodded enthusiastically and turned to keep working.

You did the same and with your mind set on work, your workday passed in a flash. You said goodbye to Yuji at the train station and like every day you stood near one of the large windows so you could see the views of the dazzling city.

Without being able to help it, your mind wandered to Suguru and the date you would both share tomorrow. Covering your smile with your hand, you left the station and began walking towards home. The atmosphere was pleasant, the trees were beginning to bloom and the days were slowly beginning to get longer, which filled your heart with immense warmth.

“Y/n?” You turned around to look at the person calling out your name.

When you turned completely you ran into a man you didn't know, he was about 40 years old and was wearing elegant clothes.

“Excuse me, you called me?” You said doubtfully and with the alarms set.

The man smiled, a smile that made your skin crawl. “Yes, but I just wanted to see your face more clearly. 10 freckles huh?”

After saying that, the man turned on his heel and began to cross the street. When you wanted to get a better look at him, he had already disappeared. You hadn't noticed how your breathing had become labored and you had to hold on to breathe properly again.

Who was that man? And why and how did he know your name? Turning on your heels you ran to your apartment and when you got there you closed the door with all the possible bolts.

Your entire body was trembling, that smile and look had left you completely paralyzed.

Blue approached you and began to give you affection, you smiled when you saw your cat and took her in your arms, feeling the warmth of your animal against you. You stayed on the ground hugging Blue for a long time, it wasn't until Blue started meowing for food that you had the strength to get up.

That disturbing feeling was still in your body and it seemed like it didn't want to go away.

You wanted to get up tomorrow and see Suguru. As crazy as it seemed, he gave you an unimaginable security and you wish that he was with you at that precise moment to calm you down like he did after you had that nightmare.

Dragging your feet as if you were carrying something heavy attached to your feet, you sat on your couch and picked up your sketchbook. You began to draw, first Blue, then the landscape that you could see from your window, then Suguru and then you began to draw the nightmare and finally the face of that man.

With another shiver running through your body from your feet to the last hair of your hair, you slammed the notebook shut and closed your eyes, trying to forget that image and sensation.

You laid down on your stomach and tried to sleep and prayed for that man not to appear in your dreams.

————-

Heian-kyō (平安京, lit. "peaceful/tranquil capital") = During the Heian era it was Japan’s capital, now known as Kyoto.

Owari (尾張国, Owari no Kuni) = Was a province in the area that today forms the western half of Aichi Prefecture, including the modern city of Nagoya.

— comment if you want to be tagged

🏷️: @drownedpoetess @aducksmokingquack @walkingtravesty97 @pdacex @zhenyuuu @n1vi @blendingcaramal @mimiixen @bbyxxm @paprikaquinn @my1fx @alwaysfreakingout @simplysm1le @lavender-hvze @ghostkat23 @lveegsoi @madaqueue @katsukisbitch @tbzzluvr @that-one-xachster

[gaytobymeres]

my hands are so cold 90% of the time. they are like blocks of ice.

[sgiandubh]

A word on Wardpark/Cumbernauld Studios

@docsama left a comment, on S's birthday, under one of my posts and I promised her an answer with more information, as soon as I got the time. Anyway, here goes - and @docsama, sorry for the delay:

Question is: who owns the Wardpark Film and Television Studios?

The answer was quick to find, in the not-so-old specialized media:

The story begins in 2013, with an ambitious Scottish entrepreneur, Terry Thomson - this guy (courtesy of The Herald, https://www.heraldscotland.com/news/15984820.analysis-three-projects-pipeline-help-productions-make-big-picture/):

He is the owner of the Thomson Pettie Group, based in Carluke (https://www.thomsonpettie.com/about-us), which has nothing to do with cinema:

You've read that right: they are 'manufacturers of fabricated metal parts and assemblies', primarily for the national automotive industry. Yet, in 2013, Mr. Thomson agreed to rent what he described as 'a dormant industrial property' - a warehouse, to be exact - to Sony, in order to host the filming and production of OL. Thus, he became the CEO of a newly created entity, The Wardpark Film and Television Studios (https://www.hackmancapital.com/scotlands-largest-most-iconic-film-studio-acquired-by-hackman-capital-partners-and-square-mile-capital/).

By 2017, Wardpark was doing so well, that a big expansion plan was announced, with the direct support of the Scottish Government, which invested £4 million via Scottish Enterprise, its business support, advice and funding agency:

And then, in November 2021, the little engine that could was sold to those two big US investors, Hackman Capital Partners (HCP) and Square Mile Capital Management LLC (now globally rebranded as Affinius Capital). In this montage, Hackman Capital Partners brought its own confirmed film studios and media management expertise...

... while Square Mile most probably funded a sizeable portion of the acquisition, simply because this is what they do best:

Perhaps an interesting detail: HCP owns and manages both the Culver City based Sony Pictures Animation Studios' Campus and the legendary Culver Studios, now rebranded by Amazon:

Back to Scotland, Wardpark Studio's sale made just about everyone happy. Mr. Thomson kept his CEO job and look who was more than thrilled about the juicy transaction:

Currently, the studio is operated by HCP's subsidiary, The MBS Group:

That means that MBS probably manages just about everything, as far as daily management is concerned, from business operations, staffing and/or property management, to lighting and grip, trucks and generators' fleet, expendables and props. Unless I could see a contract and have a precise idea, I can just enumerate all the services they offer.

At no point in time did S and C own anything of those studios. As for the Executive Producer part, that is another discussion entirely. I could be coaxed to write something about it, if you really want to know why Those Two are EPs and what does that really, really mean - because once again, I have seen and read a LOT of bullshit in here, especially in the Desperate Housewives Disgruntled Tumblrettes' corner.

Thank you for asking. It was fun to research and write and I hope it brought more clarity to you.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.1

I thank my lucky stars every night that Yoko eventually got sick of playing secret-keeper.

Paul: I didn't leave the Beatles. The Beatles have left the Beatles . . . John said he wanted a divorce. Alright, so do I. See how they say “Beatles” and they mean each other sometimes?

Derek Taylor on John's position on the break-up: if Paul were to approach him and say “let's do it together again” he probably would; with no more words, he would probably do it. Which is an insane claim to make to a world full of people grieving the greatest band to ever exist unless you are very very sure of that probability. But if it's true that that's all it would have taken, and Paul didn't do it? That hurts my head a little. Do we think he was just hurt too bad to want it back? Do we think he didn't know he had that kind of power? Do we think he was glad to be free of the group?

Ugh my heart can't take it. I'd cry too, John, watching that. I mean look at how they are looking at each other. Look at everything they've lost in a year. I'd bawl like a baby too.

Paul sends John a long, thorough letter, begging for them to legally end their partnership outside of a court. John's run out of cards at this point, but he still doesn't want to lose Paul, so he's just going to play dumb.

This is how bad he doesn't want to lose him, actually: he goes along with Klein in tricking Paul this time. Calls him up and asks him to come to the studio for a jam session, because it'll hurt his case in court. But for multiple reasons – the Eastmans were knowledgeable lawyers, and Paul might not have even wanted to be in a room with John at the time anyway – Paul doesn't come. Which John would've been hurt and angry over, no matter his motives.

"They tell you to stop crying at about age twelve. Be a man. What the hell's that?" I'm so proud of John for his (albeit long and backsliding) journey out of his toxic masculinity and violence. Something I honestly don't see him achieving without Yoko.

And from that quote it transitions to Paul in Scotland, looking like the embodiment of depression, as the opening of “Isolation” plays. It's perfect.

“And don't try to come over here. Or you might get in some trouble.” The way he just froze when he saw them filming him and then the next thing we see is him threatening them? Get ‘em, babe!

John sounds so giddy about this one-upping competition with Paul. I'll scare him and then he'll scare me!

The whole Lennon Remembers era is such a terrible case of diarrhea of the mouth in general, but the amount of homophobic language is quite striking compared to how John talked before and after.

John, talking about George in Rolling Stone: "he was working with two fucking brilliant songwriters and he learned a lot from us." People read that quote and just parrot it like they do with everything John said in this period and act like George had nothing to be angry over. He had every right to be much angrier and hold a much bigger grudge than he did.

And about George's new record, which was phenomenal and brilliant, John is transparently jealous and so cruel. If he'd said that about me and then asked me to play on his new record I'd tell him to go to hell. Why did George do it?

See and everyone who knows John knows how much he loved Brian and to hear him speaking so crassly and cruelly about Brian must've been a sure indication to them to just take the entire interview through that lense of “oh he's just saying shit”. But that's only the people who knew him. Everyone else for the rest of time took this shit as constitutional. And it pisses me off. It should be locked away in a vault somewhere and no one is allowed to listen to it until they've passed some kind of Beatles and emotional intelligence tests.

This crushes my soul. How warped must his definition of love have been by that point that he genuinely believed Phil Spector and Allen Klein loved him more than Paul and George did? It's bonkers.

John in 1967: all you need is love! John in 1971: the point of life is to manipulate people. . . . What the hell happened to you, buddy?

I go back and forth as to who's the smarter PR person: John or Yoko? Because maybe she's right. Maybe they shouldn't divulge that they're master manipulators. But is this one of those times when it's good to be all “look how honest we are about this! We're not hiding anything! We're saying bad things about ourselves too! So you should believe us about everything else!”

Really this documentarian should be hired to make all the music videos for all the Beatles and solo songs. This one for “Too Many People” is perfect. Paul walking into court with a full beard and a confident stride, John and Yoko in bed, Paul horse riding overlayed on Linda's gorgeous face like she's some goddess, designing his fate. All of it is just pure brilliance.

I'm forever laughing at just the title of the song, too. Because to John and Yoko it was so important that they were Weird and Off-putting. Different. Revolutionary. And to say “no. You're not special. There's actually an excess of people like you.” Is so funny to me.

“When she wants an A side, that's when we start fighting.” Oh gosh. Remember how I said he backslides a lot in his feminism journey? Yeah…

Insanity quote Hall of Fame. Yeah, I know he meant to say it's weird to be best friends with a woman. But it sounds like he's saying it's weird to fuck a woman. Which maybe he subconsciously means both idk.

Paul: we need to legally dissolve the partnership because it's the only way we're attached anymore. Ouch. Okay it's true. It's deserved. But that must've stung for the guy who was terrified of losing people. Must've sent him into fight or flight.

I think the point of this framing is to say that if they'd had facetime back then, instead of just crackly phone lines, HDYS would not have been written. Not with those puppy eyes staring him down like that.

Interviewer: the song wasn't even funny though. John: well I think it's hilarious. Interviewer: hmm. Lol I love hearing interviewers talk to John about his lyrics like he's a real guy doing a real job, though. Imagine a music critic now saying John Lennon wasn't clever in his lyrics. You can't, yeah. Me either.

What a slap in the face to Cynthia. Guess she wasn't Cool Girl enough. Should've gone girled him. That would be an excellent fic. Cyn and Jane gone girl their idiot bfs and John and Paul realize they're in love on death row. But anyway, yeah. If Paul would've just pet John's head . . .

Another absolutely bonkers thing to say. That's something the Rockstar’s ex wife says in a documentary ten years after he's dead, not something a songwriting partner says, completely unprompted, in an exiting the band interview.

And then he goes off on what I see as a self-soothing diatribe on Paul the family man. You can see the hoops he jumped through to get himself there. What did Paul want that I couldn't give him? A family. And is that justified? Absolutely not, only pussies and conservatives want families.

Allan Klein: were you and Paul ever really close, then? John: no. John: not that I didn't love him. I did. It's just that every time I let my guard down, he hurt me. Holy shit. At this point, after getting hit in the face with so much of John's Paul-made pain with nothing from the other side but pictures of the happy McCartney family, I'm genuinely feeling quite angry at Paul. Me. An extremely biased Paul girl who knows it's far more complicated and multi-dimensional than this. No wonder the uninformed public fucking hated his guts.

And as they're showing this quote, “I didn't want to hurt you,” plays mournfully in the background. They really are so twisted up in each other there's no separating individual identities.

Okay so he's a psychopath. So what? He's the sexiest man that ever was or ever will be. He's allowed to be a horrible person. No, but really. He's Get Back Paul but healthier. He's done with his depression drinking and he's been spending a lot of time proving he's still useful enough to exist by building fences and shearing sheep.

And this is how Paul talks about George to interviews. John said Klein made ATMP a success but Paul disagrees. "George recorded it all, wrote it all, did it all, wasn't anything to do with [Klein]. It was George's victory, wasn't it?" Compare that to how John does it and tell me again why the hell George is Team John?

What is Paul's obsession with daddies? Actually I know exactly what the obsession with daddies comes from, but we won't get into that here. I do find it interesting that in ‘69 he's saying “we do need a sort of central daddy figure.” And in ‘71 he's deriding John needing one and won't let John's daddy of choice touch him with a hundred foot pole.

I tend to think Paul chafes against authority in general, but that's actually not right. He never had a problem with George Martin. I think it's just abusive authority or authority he doesn't trust yet.

[thebookshopofnightingales]

in the backseat of his car

Aziraphale x reader (x Crowley at the end)

summary: a quick trip to Scotland to retrieve a book quickly turns into something a little less innocent...

cw: 18+ only!! smut asf, dirty talk, the Bentley being used for unholy reasons, thigh riding, reader pronouns not specified but 'good girl' is used, very slight hair pulling, switch!Aziraphale and switch!reader, dom!Crowley, handjobs, hickeys/bruises

word count: 1.1k

A/N: my first fic! (on this account, anyway) and we're straight into the smut hehe. I may or may not have started a part 2 so let me know if you wanna read that too. happy reading😈

You and that sweet-talking Angel of yours have somehow managed to convince Crowley to let you borrow his beloved Bentley to the Scottish highlands. Aziraphale caught wind of a particular first-edition that he just had to get his wings on. He was practically begging Crowley to take his car, and you have never been to Scotland so hoped to accompany him. Needless to say, after some heavy praise and the two of you worshipping him in bed, he reluctantly agreed.

You admire the hilly landscape on your left, and the angelic being on your right.

“Darling, you’re staring again.” His eyes don’t leave the road as he speaks. Such a soft voice, you think. But only you know just how filthy his mouth can get.

“I can’t help it,” you coo, “you look so good driving Crowley’s car.” You bite your lip, of which Aziraphale catches a glimpse of. You know the smallest gestures that get him shifting in his seat. You smirk to yourself. Slowly, your hand caresses his gorgeous thigh, moving ever so slightly higher and higher, until-

“Oh-” Aziraphale releases a heavy breath once you reach his crotch, palming him over his trousers as you feel him beginning to harden under your touch.

“My sweet Angel is already getting hard for me.” You purr into his ear. He whimpers, and writhes in his confinements, groaning at the friction.

When he has become completely hard, you lick your lips and remove your hand. He audibly whines at the loss of your touch.

“God, what are you doing to me?” You’re not sure if he said ‘God’ because he hears you say it so much, or because he’s actually asking, but there are times when Aziraphale becomes so worked up that a blasphemy or two will escape his sweet lips. And you’re not complaining.

You leave Aziraphale high and dry for the rest of the ride, eager fantasising about what’ll happen once you arrive, every so often sneaking peeks at his full blown erection from within his trousers and the way he has a light shine of sweat over his beautiful face. You squeeze your thighs together in anticipation. 

You shift over to the driver’s seat while Aziraphale is retrieving his book, watching him through the window with your bottom lip between your teeth, ready to pull off as soon as he sits down. With so much energy and excitement pulsing from your head down to your core, you need him here and now. 

Except it can’t be here.

“My dear, why are you sitting in the driver’s seat?” Aziraphale asks through the window. “You know I’m a much safer driver. You drive like Crowley.”

“Oh, my angel, you’ll be fine. Now get in the damned car.” You reply with a knowing smirk.

You whiz through the roads, barely sparing a couple of oblivious pedestrians. Aziraphale hides behind his book.

Finally, you find a secluded parking area overlooking a beautiful Scottish view just as the sun has set. As the sky is growing darker, so are your eyes.

“Get in the back seat.” You order Aziraphale. He can’t help the twitch of his cock at your tone and does as you say. As you climb over to straddle his lap, he moves your hips so you're just straddling just one of his thighs. Your eyes widen with lust and you let out a small moan just at the idea of what’s about to happen. He leans his lips to your ear as he pulls your hair back slightly.

“I’m in charge now, my dear.” He whispers, before moving to kiss and nibble at your neck.

“Fuck, yes Angel.” You moan breathlessly as your head falls back. With a snap of his fingers, you are suddenly left in just your underwear. He grips onto your hips and begins guiding your heat over his thigh. The friction is delicious and you begin to grind harder against him, moaning at the sensation. Aziraphale lets out a groan at the sight of you like this, beginning to leave your wetness on his trousers. You can see the tent beginning to form, so you run your fingers over his clothed crotch and let them slide beneath the waistband. This time Aziraphale lets his head fall against the back seat and you descend your lips to his neck, sucking just under his ear enough to leave a mark. You kiss the bruise you’ve left and hum at the sinful sight of a hickey on your Angel. His grip gets tighter on your hips, surely leaving bruises of his own.

You begin stroking his length faster as you begin to reach your climax. He tenses his thigh more to intensify your pleasure. It’s all breathy moans and each other's names on your tongues.

He pulls your hand from his cock and leans it on his shoulder. He’s always enjoyed being able to truly bask in your pleasure with no distractions.

“Fuck, Aziraphale, this feels so good, I’m so close.” You’re breathless and moaning as you grind harder and faster. Aziraphale, one hand still on your hip, takes the other to lightly brush your hair behind your ear.

“Come for me, my dear. Fuck, that’s it. Good girl.”

His dirty words send you over the edge and have you coming undone hard on his thigh.

“Aziraphale, Angel, fuck!” You almost scream it feels that heavenly. You ride out your orgasm with your mouth wide and face contorted by pleasure. You collapse against his chest, lazily reaching back down for his still aching cock. He groans and deeply chuckles, and you can feel the resonance from his chest.

“I like when you let sin fall from your lips, Angel.” You purr, using your thumb to lightly tug on his lower lip. There’s so much lust in his eyes that you would never be able to tell that he’s one of Heaven’s ones.

“It’s because you tempt it out of me.” You feign shock at his remark. “Oh, come on, darling, you can’t pretend that you don’t have a little of the Devil in you.” 

You bite your lip. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A crackle of the radio interrupts the moment. Except you’re not expecting Crowley’s voice.

“Well, aren’t you two a salacious pair? Remember, I can feel everything that happens to and in this car. So imagine my surprise when I’m locking up your bookshop and suddenly I’m hard as a rock.” His words surprise you and your hand comes to your mouth, failing to hide your grin of excitement from your Demon’s words.

“Oh. Oh dear.” Aziraphale musters.

“Oh dear indeed, Angel.” You can hear Crowley’s gritted teeth through the speaker of the car and you chuckle with your lip between your teeth. “And don’t think I can’t tell that your hand is still wrapped around Aziraphale’s cock, my love.”

“Crowley, don’t be so- oh, Heavens.” Aziraphale moans as you suddenly tighten your grip and work your hand faster. 

Oh, this is going to be fun.