#who’s jude without a trim

[judethswrld]

SO PRETTY

[judesprincess]

NSFW ALPHABET – Jude Bellingham

note: hii babes, how are you? look, this is my first time posting something like this and English is not my first language so i ask you to be kind and ignore any mistake pls

ps: let me know if you like this, kisses 💋

a = aftercare (how they are after sex)

he would definitely be extremely careful and gentle after sex. constantly asking if he hurt you and checking your body; he knows how rough he can be (especially when he is frustrated), so he is quick to take care of you right after you are done having sex. he cleans you up while kissing you tenderly and repeating how good you felt; he always asks if you have cramps from penetration and if you do, he makes a nice warm compress to put on you. he holds you protectively and cuddles you until you fall asleep.

b = body part (his and his partner's favorite part)

he loves every part of your body, but besides that, I feel like he's the kind of man who likes curves, so I feel like he's obsessed with your ass, like he can't stop slapping and squeezing it... he also loves kissing and biting it and the sight of it all red from his slaps drives him crazy... I bet he would love your hips, he just loves holding them while he pounds you from behind

you see, when we talk about his favorite part of him i think that this man is definitely very proud of what he carries between his legs (those celebrations and demonstrations don't tell me otherwise), he just loves how impressed you are every time you see him naked (no matter how many times you've seen him like that) and how much you fight to take him every time... i bet he also loves his biceps, especially when he catches you staring at them shamelessly

c = cum (anything to do with cum)

he definitely loves cumming inside you. for him, there is nothing better than finishing inside you and seeing his cum dripping out;  he'd never admit it out loud, but you both knew it was primal, he just loved the idea of ​​claiming you like that and he loved even more the way you trusted him to let him do something so intimate

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he secretly wants to try anal sex with you, but he'll never ask you out loud because he doesn't want to pressure you into doing something just to please him

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

let's be honest, that man is a hoe, he's definitely experienced (especially for his age), but i think he had to hold back in the beginning of the relationship to keep up with you, since you weren't experienced (let's ignore the fact that i'm basing this on my lack of experience) and he didn't want to scare you or overwhelm you with the dirty things he wanted to do to you

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

to me there are two sides to him, one dirty and naughty and the other gentle and caring; so I think there will be nights when he will put you on all fours and fuck you until you beg for mercy and other nights when he will go in the classic mommy and daddy style and make love to you softly and lovingly while whispering in your ear how beautiful and special you are to him.

g = goofy (are they more serious now? are they funny? etc.)

i think he could be the kind of guy who always wants to make you comfortable and easy, so I think he would make a joke or give you a reassuring smile when he sees you are nervous or tense.

however, of course, there are days when he is not in a good mood and maybe he will be more serious and focused.

h = hair (how well-groomed is it? does the carpet match the curtains?)

honestly, he is very clean and hygienic, but I don't think he shaves;  at most, I think he trims it a little (but he's definitely well taken care of)

i = intimacy (how are they at the moment? the romantic aspect)

like I said, for me he has two sides, so it will depend a lot on the occasion and his mood. there will be days when he'll be more naughty and maybe even verbally degrade you, but there will also be days when he'll be soft and nothing but compliments and sweet words will come out of his mouth

i think he likes to set the mood beforehand, even if it's something simple and, even if you say it's old-fashioned, you secretly love how thoughtful he is about it

j =  jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he definitely does this, always thinking about you and your body;  You are far from each other and have no time for FaceTime and Jude can't stop thinking about the nights of sex he had with you and before he can even think, his hand goes up and down his cock firmly, even though he knows that his hand doesn't even compare to anything you were capable of doing to him. Of course, when you are together, he doesn't even consider touching himself, always wanting you instead.

k = kink (one or more of your kinks)

• size kink: jude definitely has a size kink, he loves how different you are physically (in every way), how short and small you are compared to him; countless times you've caught him comparing the size of your hands and smirking at how small your hand is compared to his. let me tell you, that man definitely loves how different you are down there too, he absolutely loves how tight the fit is whenever he enters you

• praisy kink: that man loves to compliment and be complimented; he just loves saying nice things to you and letting you know how great you're doing. he also loves when you compliment him, when you let him know how good he makes you feel or how big he feels or even how gorgeous he is, it drives him crazy

• innocence kink: i might be crazy, but i think he would love the fact that you have no experience or little;  he would simply love the fact that he was your first and had to teach you everything, the idea of ​​molding you to his will would make him dizzy

l = location (favorite places to do the activity)

I think he is a reserved guy and, although he may allow himself to tease you in public sometimes, he always wants to keep his intimate moments away from anyone; the bedroom or any place in his house or yours (as long as they are alone) is perfect for him

m = motivation (what turns them on, keeps them going)

slightly anything; but something about feeling that you need him moves him in an unmatched way and makes him crazy with desire

n = no (something they wouldn't do, turns them off)

definitely nothing that would hurt you; also, i think he would definitely say a big no to sharing you with someone (no matter who it is)

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

that man seems like a spectacular pussy eater and he would definitely make you fall apart with those gorgeous lips

but he definitely loves a good blowjob, he just can't get over the image of your lips wrapped around his cock, he definitely loves to fuck your mouth

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

it all depends on his mood.  if it’s been a bad day or he’s really horny, he’ll definitely fuck you hard and rough (but always making sure the penetration isn’t hurting you), but on those days when things have gone well, he’ll go in slowly and gently, setting a pace

but I feel like no matter what the pace, he’ll always want to go deep, deep inside you so you can feel him completely

q = quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

while he loves taking all the time in the world with you, he also loves quickies—anything to feel you around him—and will take you anywhere in the house

r = risk (are they willing to experiment? are they risk-takers? etc.)

he absolutely hates the idea of ​​someone catching you in such an intimate moment;  it would be the death of him to know that someone saw you as vulnerable and exposed as that must be for his eyes only

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

let's be real, have you ever seen the way that man runs for 90 minutes on the field?? you consider yourself a warrior for trying to keep up with his stamina; no matter how intense it was, there he is, dying to have more of you

t = toys (do they have toys? do they use them? on a partner or on themselves?)

i don't think he'd be too interested in that, although he wouldn't bug you for having some (although he would secretly be a little jealous); however, if you begged him, i think he might allow himself to use something like a cock ring

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

that man is a tease for sure, he would definitely tease you by blushing around him or being extremely wet and needy for him or even while you were struggling to get him

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he's definitely not the kind of guy who's going to be like a dead man while fucking; he'll definitely moan and grunt while mumbling dirty things to you

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

jude definitely has a "hero syndrome". he loves being your hero, no matter how silly it is; if you can't open a can or something, he's there to fix it quickly. it can be the most trivial thing, he'll want to fix it for you. he just loves the fact that you depend on him in some way – even though he knows it's lame, he can't help but feel that way – he always wants to be the guy who puts a smile on your face and who makes you feel safe and protected

x = x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

i think we have more than enough content to say that he's huge (and he's definitely thick too);  you are absolutely struggling to take it all in

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he is literally never satisfied. he always wants more and more of you and you just love how desired he makes you feel

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he will only fall asleep after you, only after he is sure you are completely comfortable and satisfied.

well, i really hope you enjoyed it and feel free to interact with me anonymously (or not), kisses 💋

[lovemomhatepolice]

jude bellingham nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Oh, Jude is very adhesive after sex. He likes to cuddle with you until you both fall asleep. He places gentle kisses on your head, shoulders and arms, in fact wherever he can. He always talks to you for a long time, whether everything was okay, how you feel, if you need anything…. Well, Jude is a great guy

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Jude is well aware that he is damn handsome. And not since he started being famous, oh no, Jude was already aware of that before. However, what he likes most about himself is his face, I think. He really likes the fact that he is similar with his family, which is so important to him, and he likes his looks. He is very fond of his dark brown eyes and his lips, which, according to him, have the perfect shape (to kiss you!!). As far as you are concerned, I think Jude is definitely an ass man. Of course, he loves your breasts, but your ass is definitely something Jude always looks past when he sees you. He loves to squeeze it, kiss it, everything, really. He always has his hands on her when you're somewhere together, and he's not ashamed to show it. Unfortunately, on the contrary, sometimes you have to correct him so he doesn't get caught up. And besides, he loves your whole face. He thinks everything matches perfectly - your nose size, eye color and lip shape, ay, this boy is drowning.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Jude Bellingham looks like a total creampie fan. I think he repeatedly stopped his seed at your entrance to watch it mix with your juices and slowly leave your body. But I also think he's too delicate to let his cum linger on your face, which is why he's not a fan of it. Even if you asked, there's no chance he'll let himself cum in your face

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) I think he likes it when you take the initiative. He often does a lot on his own, but the sight of you having fun with him in a way that no one else has ever done before, god. Jude is already on his knees and begging for more

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Nah, Jude is not very experienced. Well, after all, he's only 21 years old and hasn't scored any major ones on his relationship record. Therefore, everything you experience together is quite new to him. It was with you that he lost his virginity and began to discover what he likes and what he doesn't quite like But nevertheless he is a fast learner, he has become so skilled that if you met him for the first time, you would not be able to say that he is a fresher in these matters

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Jude likes to have you on top. Really, that's why the cowgirl position is just right for him. He likes you to take the initiative, however, alone from below he can also do a lot, especially since compared to him, you are in his hands like a feather. Another option is standing up - as I mentioned before, Jude is a fan of sex in the shower, so the standing option had to be practiced to perfection to make both of you comfortable and perfect

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) It depends on the moment. Jude is hardly a person who is against any jokes in bed or giggles, on the contrary, it even happens to him often. However, when your sex is heavily geared towards romance and the heat rising around your bodies, he rather tries to be serious and committed to the situation

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) I think Jude is not completely shaved, but it is trimmed so that it is neat and not too much. He has dark curly hair, so I'm betting he has that all over his body too, so it might be hard to eliminate it. As for you, I think similarly. Either completely shaved or trimmed so that everything is neat and not too much.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Bellingham can be truly romantic. He may not look like it, but he loves to plan your entire evening. First take you out for an expensive dinner with wine, then prepare you a joint bath with petals of your favorite flowers, followed by the intense sex you've both been waiting for all day. And then long conversations in bed and gentle touches...

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) This often happens to him - mainly due to the fact that you often don't see each other through his constant trips to matches and life in other countries. He's not averse to pornographic movies, but since you've been together, he tends not to watch them. You prefer to connect together on the webcam and experience it from a distance, or he copes by simply thinking about the fact that you could be you next to him…

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Honestly, I can't find any sensible kink to match Jude. He does not seem to be a person who is drawn in any particular direction. Maybe a creampie? Hm, I think he could watch with fascination as your shared juices of fulfillment come out of you…. Oh, and combined it with breeding kink? Well, what? He's young, but he can definitely see you with a pregnant belly in your future home together in Madrid

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Shower. Jude Bellingham shouts shower. Or possibly a bathtub, but definitely something on the toilet. I honestly don't know why, but it's what I associate with so damn much. Sex after the game? In the toilet. Sex with romantic candles and rose petals? In the bathtub. Sex without any occasion? In the shower. Well, don't say no. Jude definitely looks like a man who loves to take a bath together with you, and the opportunity to get close is even better

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) After the match. I don't know why. It's just that after a match, Jude is always, and I mean always, somehow more horny, and that's when you turn him on the most. Whether it's won or lost, Jude just needs to have his girlfriend in his arms after it Or the other option that turns him on is you in mini dresses. Well begging, the boy is already on his knees in front of you (or rather, behind you too)

A/N: next part will be here soon! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[alphabetbill]

Macabre [ HEMLOCK GROVE ] - Chapter 4

~ description ~

A werewolf whose only skill is running from his fears, a half-upir with no idea of the true darkness lying inside of him, and a girl found alive in the woods months after her mysterious death.

Some secrets in Hemlock Grove should have just stayed buried. In a town that isn't so sleepy after all, monsters of all kinds are wide awake under the surface, crawling their way up.

~ warnings~

This story will contain mature and heavy themes that may involve potentially explicit content, gore and murder, talk of kidnapping and stalking victims, animal death, supernatural/paranormal/religious themes and trauma, any other themes not covered in the general description will probably be tagged here at the start of the chapters that other significant warnings apply to.

A list will be linked here upon completion and upload of each chapter:

Cicada and the Snake

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

c h a p t e r    f o u r

Peter Rumancek

<<>>

"I SAW THAT IN MY DREAM THE OTHER NIGHT," Roman Godfrey announced as he took up a seat beside Peter in English class, leaning over the gap to talk.

He had been doing that a lot. For three days now to be specific, clinging to the side of the most interesting soul he could find because, assumingly, he had nothing better to do. It was sort of sad, really, once it became apparent just how utterly aimless he was without his dead best friend.

At his words Peter began to unfurl the sketch he had crumpled up in his hand, some roughly drawn cryptic image of an ouroboros. The upir seemed hopeful that it must have meant something, that they had both dreamed of the same symbol in the same circumstance. 

Peter just hoped it was a coincidence but unfortunately for him it seemed unlikely.

Nothing about his encounters with Roman seemed like they were a coincidence. Nothing about the bottomless darkness like that in Roman's eyes could ever be a coincidence.

"What do you think it means?" Roman asked him, his perfectly trimmed fingernails rapping on the desk. 

"Probably something important," Peter answered with a note of sugary sarcasm. It wasn't like he meant to sound either rude or disinterested- but talking with Roman in public was the perfect way to draw even more attention to himself which was something he wanted least of all.

Especially talking about this.

"Jude was in my dream. Was she in yours too?"

Now was the time where any normal person would have sat down with Roman and discussed to him the concept of grief and closure and that dreaming about dead loved ones was  a perfectly normal thing to experience after loss. The assumption that Peter had shared a similar dream with Roman would have been absurd had it not been true.

"Yeah," Peter answered after a while, the pad of his thumb brushing across the drawing. 

No renderings on paper or crude sketches mimicking the things he had seen in his dream would ever bring to justice the twisting, jarring feeling of darkness that Peter had experienced in the dream he had the other night. Nothing could make him forget the way the shadows had swallowed him whole and spat him out in a forest of endless trees that stretched all the way to the sky and straight through it. How the crescent moon had gleamed like a gnarled claw in the sky, how his eyes could never remove themselves from it. The werewolf had experienced preminition dreams before, and his heightened awareness of the supernatural meant those kinds of dreams felt familiar. 

In that dream, standing in that clearing, witnessing the suffering of a girl who used to know him, Peter's one sole instinct had been to run.

He didn't want to think about her anymore. Thinking about her made him think about the dream which made him think about his cowardice which made him think about how he hated that part of himself. That part of him that prioritized flight over fight, protecting himself over others. The selfish wolf in him who wanted to tuck tail.

He didn't want to think about how his shared dreams with Roman meant he was tied with the upir in some way. He didn't want to think about how those shared dreams likely meant a shared fate- and that whatever was to come meant trouble for the both of them. That whatever was to come had something to do with Judith Evergreen and the mystery of her death.

Peter wanted no part of it. Messing around with this stuff wasn't on his list of safest nor smartest things to do. So just like he tried to drown out Roman's desperation, he also tried to drown out the dreams by pretending they had not been frequenting him ever since moving to Hemlock Grove.

"I couldn't get close to her in mine," Roman said with a pause. "I tried."

Peter had tried to get close to her too. But the trees had stretched further and further away until all he could see was the silhouette of her body breaking. The further he had ran towards her the further away he had moved. Like the dream was taunting him.

"So. What now?"

"I don't know," Peter answered hastily. "I don't know, Roman. It might not even mean anything."

You know that's not true.

"Look I know this is weird-" Roman cut in, "really fucking weird. But you know what's even weirder? Sharing extremely specific dreams about a girl who died who we happen to both know. I don't even know you and you don't even know me. But like it or not this means we're connected."

Peter fought hard to bite back his retort because he knew Roman was right.

"And what am I supposed to do about that exactly?" he asked. "You think I've got all the answers?"

"I'd say you're a good place to start."

Because he was the one more intertwined with the supernatural, he assumed that Roman assumed. If only Roman knew how close he really was with the uncanny. How close he really was to the monsters he had only been told of. To the ones he had not been told of.

The two of them stopped talking when class started, because they got reprimanded by the teacher for their inside chatter and loose squabbling. 

Peter dreamed of the forest again that night. He dreamed of the smell of rotting flesh, the hissing of a serpent and the silent screams of a girl in pain. He dreamed of running through bramble thickets that only got thicker and higher until they blocked out the light, of becoming snared in the thorns and pickled and stabbed and shredded by the sharp points. 

He dreamed of deer with bloody mouths and glassy, blank white eyes. They stared at him through the trees, standing still and vacant like empty macabre creatures. 

He dreamed of torch light flitting through the trees, footsteps treading in hasty increments, fast and slow, close and far. He dreamed he was standing naked in a clearing surrounded by snakes winding through the black muddy grass to strangle him. He dreamed of snake bites and gloved hands choking back his screams. 

He woke up in a cold sweat for the fourth night in a row. He also woke up to a phone call.

"Peter it's me, Roman- don't hang up yet, please" the upir rushed when Peter answered the unsaved number. "Look I just need to talk to you. Tell me you didn't just have that dream and I'll leave you be."

"I didn't just have that dream again."

"Jackass."

"Yeah."

"You saw the deer right?"

"I did. Did you see the light?"

"I did. Did you see the snakes?"

"Shit."

"Shee-it."

There was a break, a silence between them that only swelled along with the tension through the line. This was real and dark and twisted and broken. It left him with a nagging pain in his gut that told him Roman was right. 

"You feel it, don't you?" Roman asked, his voice pooling with urgency.

Peter could feel it. Peter could feel it and he couldn't even deny it. Peter could feel the importance clinging to him like tree sap to bark, like smoke in a confined room that just kept getting smaller. Something was about to happen and that something would be his job, would be his and Roman's job, to foresee and to stop. To find their own answers when there were none. The weight of the world felt heavy on his shoulders and this time Peter could not run. 

He couldn't. 

"Whatever this is, whatever fucked up bullshit this is. We're in this shit together," the upir spoke again, as if he were desperately afraid that Peter wasn't going to reply.

"We have to do something," the werewolf conceded. "But where would we even start?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Where life ends and death begins. Where the aftermath of death is found. Where hopefully, Peter would be able to pick up a scent or a feeling or an omen or some kind of sign of what to do and what the fuck was going on. Something that could lead him to wherever or whatever the fuck it was that Judith Evergreen was trying to show them. 

"The ditch," Peter exhaled through his nose, disappointed in himself for suggesting such a morbid thing. "The ditch her body was found in. We could start there."

"What makes you think we'll find anything?"

"Just a feeling," he answered. 

Roman picked Peter up in his car about half an hour later. They drove to the outskirts of town and got out at the start of the woodland reserve trail. In the dead of night they walked. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

hmmmmm

[badassxbirdy]

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October Activity Update - Pinned Post

Happy spooky season! It’s time once again for an activity update! If you’re new here: these monthly posts help me to keep track of what the frick I’ve been doing, particularly when tumblr breaks or the brainfog strikes. This update includes things posted or in drafts for August and September, as I missed last months post. Everything else can be found in previous monthly updates under this tag. There’s also the thread tracker here.

The full activity update (along with OOC house keeping) is below the cut. Bold text = links.

If you want to see all IC interactions without the other stuff, click here. If you’d like to start something new, there are opens and memes, or you can just hit up the DM’s. You can also add Ty on Wire for IC texting.

Now onto the update!

OOC housekeeping:

I can no longer trim posts that were started in the legacy editor. I’ll be messaging folks about moving threads to a new post as and when those replies come up.

Text size! While I personally prefer small text as I find it easier to read on mobile, I know many folks prefer the opposite. So rather than relying on my memory to keep track of who to use bigger text for, I’m just going to match whatever text size my RP partner uses going forward.

RPThreadTracker does a fantastic job of tracking replies even when you don’t get a notification on tumblr itself. If you’re having issues with the current notifications glitch, I really recommend giving it a try.

There’s been a weird situation happening anons where they’ll send a really dodgy message, and tag another blog to try and incriminate them as the sender. Here’s a PSA post explaining.

Threads, replies and other IC interactions:

@astormymind

Library ghost (drafted) (Finn)

Memes from Prue and Alex are in the drafts!

@beastbitten

“I ain’t lookin’ for trouble.” (link)

@demcnsinmymind

Car trouble (drafted)

Taking Lance on a hunt (drafted)

At the motel (link)

Azzy proves a point (drafted)

Mischief at the bar (link)

@demonstigma

Kage is weird, but Ty appreciates accidental compliments. 😂 (drafted)

@derschwarzeengel

Ty tracks down Vampire!Damon. (link)

“Ken means…” (drafted)

Fence related incidents (link)

Roasting 50 shades (link)

Damon shields Ty, Ty calls him a gothy tree-hugger. 🤷‍♀️ (link) - moved from the legacy editor.

Damon encounters Dark!Ty (link) - moved from the legacy editor.

Ty gets sick and is a brat about it. (link)

“She’s a ghost AND a bitch!” (link)

Werewolf problems (link) - moved from the legacy editor.

@destroyerscved

Magic bean juice (drafted) - Edward

“How did you find me?” (drafted) - Nia

“If you actually wanted to kill me, I'd be dead, wouldn't I?" (link) - Adrian

“Drink your school, stay in drugs” (drafted) - Samantha

@discipulusmaleficus

“ This isn’t what it looks like.” (link)

Abandoned house (drafted)

@ebonyforged

Ty meets Ebony! 😁 (link)

@first-born-to-his-name

“What is your day job?” (link)

@hvbris

Ty meets Hook (link)

An appointment with Doctor Soliman (drafted)

A questionable attempt to cheer up Olive. 😂 (drafted)

@imprvdente

Ty and FBI!fish at the motel (link)

Birthday mischief (drafted)

@indyflanery

At the fair (drafted)

@jchnwinchester

“You know me?” (link)

@kingofthewebxxx

Ghost warnings? That’s new. (link)

@loyaltyguided

Cuteness with Azzy! ❤️ (drafted)

@lcbcshcart

Monster encounter (drafted)

@luposcainus

Ty is shocked to find Caspian isn’t dead. 😂 (link)

@magaprima

Demon problems part (drafted)

Demon problems part 2: electric boogaloo (drafted)

@nightiingaled

“You should have killed me when you had the chance.” (link) - Than

“I need a stronger word than fuck” (link) - Mel

Time for “The Talk” (link) - Mel

@normallyxstranger

Starter for Victor (drafted) - Welcome back! ❤️

@ourwar

Babysitting Jude and the Doctor (link)

“You’re welcome.” (link) - Homelander

@pantslessoptimism

“I totally didn’t do what you think I did.” (link)

Cannibal ghosts (link)

@stanfordprepped

“What in the reese's peanut butter fuck is going on here?” (link)

@tobeblamed

Dean is better than google. 😇 (link)

Memes/asks: 8

Drafts: 21, and I have no idea how I got so far behind jfc. ☠️

Headcanon, Dash games, and assorted silliness:

Bingo cards with Lance, Azrael, Fish, Isaac, and Michael! (link)

Mel and Killian come to blows while Tyler is missing. (link)

Messing with Killian. (link)

The bot brigade are annoying, but they have some truly banging names! Here are some of my favourites.

I think that’s everything! As always: please let me know if I’ve missed something. I never intentionally drop threads without notifying, rest assured that if it’s not here I am either having a brain fart or I simply have not seen it. Remember to be kind to yourselves, and stay safe! ❤️ — Em

[nomanwalksalone]

NOTES FROM THE GROUND FLOOR

by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans

As I get older, it’s amusing to recognize that so many of the pithy quips and sayings I have derive from a small set of catchy past readings, however shallow my culture.  Case in point: I thought of beginning this piece with “I’m a profane man,” a self-hating declaration inspired by my high school assignments in Dostoyevsky’s Notes from Underground (“I am a sick man... I am a spiteful man.”).  One of the many ways in which I am profane occurs when I find something, some article of clothing or tool that suits me so perfectly and improves my quality of my life that I’m tempted to use Jude Law’s slightly unnerving ejaculation as Dickie Greenleaf in The Talented Mr Ripley, “I could f**k this I love it so much.”

Dickie was getting passionate about his refrigerator, a new purchase that allowed him to have cold beer in southern Italy.  While I’m lucky enough to live in an age and place where refrigeration is taken for granted, I find myself echoing that sentiment in my head when, say, I find a pair of jeans with the right cut, denim and fit, or, more recently, the ideal pair of slippers – durable, beautiful, tactile, reasonable, perfectly fitting and insanely comfortable.

I’m not one of those people who insists everyone take off his or her shoes at the house.  I take mine off, though, since it’s generally more comfortable to walk around without shoes on, and in summer far cooler to do so.  As a teenager, I used to wear Chinese slippers, which had the advantage of being dirt cheap and available in precise sizes.  Of course, they wore out quickly, and because I kept shoving my foot in, the backs got trodden down.  After all, I’m not fanatical enough to use a shoe horn to put slippers on.  I found a delightful pair of pointy suede babouches at the Entreprises Artisanales in Marrakech, the government-sponsored crafts market outside the souk, which were both handsome and reasonably well made.  After those wore out I tried to replace them remotely by ordering a similar-looking pair from a merchant online, but they came apart almost immediately.  As those gave up the ghost I tried suede slippers from one of my Paris haberdashers, which were light but rather old-mannish, and expensive for what they were.  I finally dug through my #steez stash and found glorious relief in velvet furlane, otherwise known as gondolier’s slippers.

The story goes that furlane originally were made by convicts on one of the islands of the Venetian lagoons using what otherwise would have been refuse: discarded bicycle tires were made into the soles, while the uppers were made out of offcuts of the velvets and brocades Venice had become famous for producing.  The front ends in a little curved point up the instep like a Persian slipper, and the upper is bordered in grosgrain, while the edge of the sole is trimmed with a handsome roped braid.  I do query at what point these became the footwear for gondoliers, since they’ve been plying their trade in the lagoon for centuries, while the bicycle’s been with us for less than two.  Historicity aside, they fit wonderfully and come in precise sizes, while the cloth forgivingly grips any width of foot.  While they’re also made with backs, I prefer mine backless, resembling a far sleeker version of the custom cloth slippers that John Lobb of St James will make up custom for around a thousand pounds, which come with the ineluctable odor of burning money.  Even though not custom, my backless furlane still fit well (none of the heel-slapping that comes with slippers that are too long in back, and cost a few percent of Lobb’s delusional price, meaning they’re relatively affordable, even if I am now scouting replacements to set aside.

I’ve been surprised to find almost no sources for them online.  At best, one or two sites ask potential customers to email to see what’s available. Even Etsy, the world’s handicrafts gar(b)age sale, turned up empty.  How can it sell handmade Spider-Man panties (don’t ask) and not have furlane?  I’ve thus started asking my Svengalis to consider selling them. Watch this space… til I profane it again.

[azuchifairy]

The Corpse Bride

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13672392/2/The-Corpse-Bride

“If you seek happiness, your heart knows what your mind can’t understand.”

 Chapter Two: True to Yourself

Levy’s heart felt warm and she strolled down the hall with a spring in her step knowing Lucy was happy with her surprise. Levy McGarden was one of the Heartfilia's magic advisors. She had been studying magic and scripts since she was a child and grew up to be a very successful mage. When she moved to town she made friends with Lucy in the village and since then the two had become very close. Lucy invited her personally to meet her parents who were very impressed by her resume. She came around often to spend time with Lucy, and also Layla who was a magic user.

The time that she wasn’t at the Heartfilia estate she was working with the infamous Erza Scarlet, the town’s well renowned mage known for dealing with the dark magic as well as other forms. To keep her shop hidden from mage rebels it was disguised as an armory, that being Erza’s other passion, and placed at the edge of the forest. Levy worked with her to continue her studies and lived above the shop in it’s cozy loft while Erza and her husband Jellal lived in the house connected.

Levy was an admirable asset to Erza as the mage was slightly blind to things up close giving her a difficulty in reading. Levy, who adored reading more than anyone, was the perfect match to read the books to Erza and she could decipher ancient magic scripts. Jellal was a great teacher when it came to learning of ancient scripts, but even a great mage like him had trouble from time to time. When they weren’t experimenting with spells or taking care of their magical clientele, Levy worked in the armory for the human travellers that stopped by to have their weapons looked at or purchase new ones.

She knew that the day ahead of Lucy was going to be difficult so she made the journey across town on foot to be with her, despite feeling bad about leaving Erza. It was hard to see her going through so much with little Levy could do to help, so even the least bit of happiness she could bring would lift her conscience.

As she walked she was met by Layla, who looked as stunning as ever. She wore a fuschia gown with roses of lighter hues in the pattern. It had lace frills and her hair was pulled into an elegant high bun as always with a frilled headband and choker to match.  Lucy’s mother dripped in the essence of elegance that it was enough to take someone’s breath away, and Levy was no exception.

“L-Layla-sama!” Levy curtseyed in front of her, “That’s such a beautiful dress.”

The blonde woman grinned at her with her hands resting together at her waist, “Why, thank you. Where are you off to, Levy-chan?”

“I was about to go home for the day. I figured since it was a formal meeting it would be best I leave.” Levy said with a soft chuckle scratching the back of her head.

“Nonsense, I actually had a favor to ask if you didn’t mind staying.”

“Of course Layla-sama, what did you need?” Levy responded eagerly.

***

When they entered the Heartfilia foyer they were met with all kinds of grand decor and artwork from the finest painters. There were vases and wall hangers filled with flowers wherever you looked. Gray stood next to his parents as they waited when he felt his dad nudge him with his elbow. He looked to him and saw he held his hang out containing a silver banded ring. “Forgot to give that to you, in case you need it.” His dad winked at him and dropped it in Gray’s hand.

His son glared at him, “And why would I want this?”

Silver nudged him again but this time it was to quiet him as the servants opened the doors for Jude and Layla. Gray rolled his eyes heavily but stuck the ring in his pocket knowing that he definitely wouldn’t need it. The Heartfilia couple entered the large foyer with Layla outshining Jude from the moment they stepped in. It looked like she had floated while she walked and radiated glamour.

“Mr. and Mrs. Fullbuster, it’s so lovely to have you here in our home.” Layla smiled, a true woman of elegance.

Silver bowed to both her and Jude, “Thank you for having us as your guests, we are truly honored.”

Ur curtseyed lifting her pale blue dress, “It is my pleasure to meet you both.”

Jude looked to both of them yet all he said was, “Likewise.”

This was Gray’s least favorite part of meeting any wealthy family, the smiling, the acting like he cared while he watched his parents take part in the bowing formalities. The couple came to Gray and he bowed trying not to wince from the tightness in his jacket, “Mr. and Mrs. Heartfilia, thank you for having us and giving me the chance to meet your daughter.”

Layla was smiling at him while Jude remained the same and they both turned back to Gray’s parents.

“What a handsome young man. I’m sure Lucy will be delighted to meet him.” Layla said and she seemed to mean her words. Gray noticed that Jude was giving him a glare almost as icy as his father’s. He knew he was trying to be intimidating, trying to see if Gray could handle it. He tried not to roll his eyes, how childish.

“Oh, Lucy, my dearest.” Layla said looking at the doorway, “Please come in, meet the Fullbusters. Silver, Ur, and their son Gray.”

The girl who came through the door looked just like her mother, a spitting image. Her blonde hair was over her shoulder in a long braid and her dress was the color of cherry blossoms. Gray didn’t deny she was pretty, but pink happened to be his least favorite color.

She curtseyed to his parents, “It’s my pleasure to meet you, thank you for visiting our home.”

Then she turned to him and gave a less enthusiastic curtsey compared to the bright smile she gave his parents, “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Gray tried his best not to laugh at how he could clearly see how much she didn’t want to be there. Instead he bowed and cleared his throat before he spoke, “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Clearly both sets of parents could sense the awkwardness between them, even if they tried to keep it hidden. Layla piped up, “Shall we go be seated in the parlor for tea?”

“Yes, of course. Please lead the way.” Silver replied.

Layla turned to her daughter, “Why don’t you show Gray around the estate and come meet us a bit later on? Levy has agreed to accompany you. How does that sound?”

Levy approached behind them with a smile on her face winking to Lucy. She left a respectable distance between them.

“Lovely. We can start in the gardens.” Lucy said and began walking as soon as she finished her sentence. Gray picked up his feet to follow feeling like a child for a moment wanting to stay with his parents. He wasn’t good with social interactions with people he didn’t know, and most people who knew him labeled him as awkward.

As soon as they got outside there was a vast garden divided into different sections. There were white fences and arches with vines of flowers wrapped around them. In the middle of the trimmed hedges and rose bushes was a magnificent marble fountain that extended into a pond through a waterfall. There were so many different flowers in an array of colors including, violets, peonies, lilies, hydrangeas, and chrysanthemums. Marble benches were spread throughout the garden and the path was made with a white type of gravel that crunched underneath their shoes. Gray was amazed at how fantastic the garden looked and it definitely matched the estate itself. He noticed how Lucy still hadn’t spoken to him even though they were away from their parents and took it as a good sign that she didn’t want to be there.

Levy granted them space as they walked just keeping an eye on their surroundings and whatnot. She didn’t think that this Fullbuster boy was a match for Lucy at all and she thought it was easy to see from the beginning. They were both tense, like they’d rather be anywhere else, and that energy filled the air.

Gray tried at least to break the ice a bit, “Um, this is a nice estate. Did your family design it?”

“Really? That’s how you’re going to start a conversation?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Gray was taken aback by her unpleasant tone and in turn fired back with an attitude without thinking.

“Well it’s not like you were going to start the conversation, I tried to make an effort.” He said irritatedly.

“Your effort was insufficient.” She fired back in a snotty voice.

“I’m really not trying to impress you anyways.”

“Like that matters to me! You’re so not my type.” She said crossing her arms over her chest. While Gray was irritated he wanted to laugh at how immature this girl was.

“Yeah well I don’t see how you could be anyone’s type with bratty behavior like that.” Gray said, trying to entertain himself with her reaction.

Her eyes opened wide as she turned around with her fists clenched, “Bratty?! I’ll have you know I already have a man that considers me his type, a man that isn’t so brainless!”

Gray stifled his laughter, “Actually wouldn’t he be the brainless one to be interested in you?”

Lucy gasped in offense, “That’s it! You’re really trying to screw this up aren’t you?! Because congratulations, you succeeded!”

Gray chuckled, “This was already screwed up before it started.”

Lucy grimaced, “Well at least you are right about one thing. Just leave me alone.”

Levy thought she was going to have to stop them during their disagreement but left it to Lucy since she had seen her do it countless times before. It was best to stay out of the way and let things settle the way they were supposed to. So far it had started going like all the other times her friend had talked about, Lucy would insult them and usually the man would try to make up for it by being excessively polite. Gray had thrown it all back at her from his own frustrations and gave her a bit of a run for her money.

She observed as he followed her still even though she had stomped off down the center path. It didn’t seem like he was trying to hurt her feelings, but at the same time Levy was already positive their match in a romantic sense did not exist. She did however, think Lucy may find a friend in him.

Once they reached the fountain Lucy stopped and sat on one of the marble benches to which Gray sat next to her on the edge. The sky was dark and there were no birds singing, only the gentle breeze rustling the bushes. Gray could tell she felt bad and decided that apologizing may be his best bet to potentially get them on the same side.

“Look I’m sorry, okay? I really don’t want to get married. I’m sure you’re a very nice person but this is all being forced on me by my dad.” Gray explained slouching over a bit since his parents weren’t around to scold him. “Now that you both know where I stand can we stop arguing? It’s immature.”

She thought to herself for a moment about how infuriating he had been only minutes ago and realized he had no reason to lie, that he had to be telling the truth. Lucy sighed, “You're right, I’m sorry too,” she turned to him and explained, “You see, I’m already in love with someone. I wish to marry him but..my father doesn’t approve.”

Gray watched her clench her fists and even someone with an icy heart like his, felt sympathy for her. “That’s pretty awful. I’m sorry to hear that. Did he give him a chance?”

“No! He didn’t even give him a chance before he rejected him! So I made this stupid arragement with him, I promised I would meet anyone he brought to me and only if I rejected all of them could I be with Natsu. Somehow he just won’t stop! I thought he would give up, I thought he would know by now that I don’t want anyone else.” Lucy sniffled looking to Gray, “So I’m rather glad you didn’t have plans of marrying me.”

Gray shook his head, “Natsu? Natsu Dragneel? I know him, he’s a close friend of my family. We visit them every so often. He’s a complete idiot sometimes, but he is my friend.” He paused for a moment, “There’s definitely no way I could ever do that to him.” Now he knew he needed to come up with a plan so they wouldn't have to go any further into making arrangements.

She was able to let out a sigh of relief, “You know Natsu? I had no idea.” Levy noticed her whole demeanor changed the moment she started talking about him. “You know, there have been so many times that I snuck out with Natsu to spend time with him at his father’s bar. We had so many great times there drinking, telling stories, and that’s where I met the real Natsu.”

“Seriously?” Gray questioned, “How did you not get caught? The bar isn’t exactly close to your estate.”

Lucy shrugged, “Honestly I have no clue, but I was good at picking the right nights to go out. Most of the time Natsu would just sneak into my bedroom to spend time with me..” She blushed looking away bashfully, “Y-You know! We’d watch the stars, or he’d bring along his familiar Happy to play with!”

Gray decided not to tease her and chuckled thinking of the cat, “That silly thing? I forgot he had him. Gee, it’s been awhile since I visited him.”

Lucy nodded, “Now that I think about it I think he did mention your name maybe once, he usually referred to you as ‘ice brain’.”

Gray glared in exhaustion, “I’m going to kill him next time I see him. How did you not know it was me coming today then? I could’ve avoided that argument with you.”

“Sorry about that I didn’t know you were a Fullbuster, Natsu never mentioned that part. Like I said, I didn’t put it together that you were Gray. I just know about the families in the area, not exactly who is who, or who’s acquainted with who unless they partner in business. My father says it isn’t necessary to know because I won’t be inheriting the Heartfilia estate anyways.” Lucy explained.

“Consider yourself lucky, that's one thing you can forget about.” Gray pointed out.

Lucy sighed looking down, “Yes, you’re right about that. But, I think it would be harder if I had to forget about Natsu. I want to be with him more than anything, he’s the only person I’ve ever met that only wants me to be myself. On top of everything good about him and his heart of gold, he offers me the one thing my family has never given me.”

“What’s that?” Gray asked, although he had an idea of what she would say.

“Freedom,” she laughed, “as trivial as it is, it’s the one thing I truly want. That ability to be my own person and decide what I want to do with my life, it’s priceless.” Lucy looked up towards the sky as if deep in her mind she was in her own world leaving Gray to himself. He could see how Natsu could give her that. His family had no expectations, they lived happily compared to everyone else because they did what they wanted. It seemed to Gray that Lucy would fit right in.

The only thing he could think of was a bit outrageous. It was not his typical go to plan, but it might be enough to cause both of their parents to reconsider. Plus, if it worked it would result in a solution for both him and Lucy. At least they wouldn’t have to continue making plans for a wedding.

“So, what if we could create some chaos in front of our parents? One could start a fight with the other and draw it out. Essentially people like our folks hate dealing with chaos so they’ll have to stop us.” Gray concluded.

Lucy hesitated, “I mean it doesn’t sound like a bad idea, but we’d have to really sell it to them.”

Gray nodded, “So that’ll be up to you. With that bratty attitude I’m sure you’ll be able to convince them you hate me.”

Lucy started to chuckle, “You really don’t hold back,” she shook her head with a light grin, “How are you certain it’ll work?”

“Well, I’m sure they saw how much we dislike each other, they will have no choice but to call it off.” Gray explained, “I’m not sure it’ll guarantee that you and Natsu could be together but, it's a start.”

“You would go through the trouble to do all that? ” Lucy asked in surprise. Gray shrugged in response, “It benefits us both.”

“But you don’t even know me and I was rather rude to you..” Lucy said, “I’m sorry for that.”

“No need to be sorry, I think I was just as rude.” Gray chuckled, “I’m doing it for Natsu too. This way I know that he’ll be happy in the end too.”

Lucy’s smile widened as she thought of Natsu again and how it wouldn’t be too long until she was in his arms again.

Gray stuck his hand out, “Truce?”

Lucy smiled, taking his hand and giving it a small shake, “Truce.”

Levy grinned and thought that maybe the Fullbuster boy wasn’t so bad after all. She did doubt that their plan would work, but he even if he didn’t want to say it out loud, he empathized Lucy’s struggle. She was nervous at the same time, because there was about to be utter chaos at the Heartfilia household.

***

After carefully devising a plan Lucy and Gray went back to the estate ready to put their plan into action. Lucy stormed ahead in front of Gray and as the servants noticed her nearing the room they stepped aside to open the doors quickly.

“Father! Mother!” Lucy barked with her clenched fists at her sides. She cleared the doorway first and Gray stepped up his pace to follow.

Both couples looked up in worry as Lucy steamed, “There is no possible way I could ever marry this man!” She turned to Gray as he passed the threshold and put her hands on her hips, “He’s an absolute brute! He’s ill-mannered, full of attitude, and on top of that he doesn’t value me!”

Gray played his part to perfection addressing his parents, “I did nothing to her! She’s spoiled, arrogant and rude! I can’t get along with someone who’s so egotistical, it would be even worse to marry her!”

Layla stood up with urgency but still as graceful as a swan, “Now Lucy dear, I’m sure we can work this out-”

Lucy stomped her foot like a toddler much to her parent’s shock,“Absolutely not! I want nothing more to do with him!”

Gray admired her commitment to the act and decided to up his game. He crossed his arms over his chest and pointed his nose to the air as he turned away, “I want nothing less. The sooner I get to be free of her presence the better.”

Silver got up with a suppressed look of anger on his face, “Gray,” he hissed, “your manners. As Layla said, I’m sure there’s a solution to this problem.”

Ur stood next to him, “What happened between you two that caused this?”

Lucy looked to Gray again pointing her gloved finger at him, “He couldn’t say a single word of sincerity! I tried to show him some of our family’s prized flowers and he stood there with no emotion!”

Gray rolled his eyes, “It’s not my fault you came off a carriage straight out of brat town.”

Ur gasped at his behavior while Silver began to rage, “Gray! That's enough.”

Gray turned his attention to his father, “No. I won’t just bite my tongue. I’d rather marry any other girl than her and she feels the same. What’s so difficult about calling this off?”

Jude finally stood with his composure intact, like he wasn’t phased by anything they were saying. His calm demeanor was a red flag for Gray, something wasn’t getting through. Then, Jude finally spoke.

“I apologize for this foolishness on behalf of my daughter, Silver, Ur. You see, she’s trying to play a game.”

Lucy’s eyes widened as she tried to stay on her feet, “No I’m not! I meant every word I said-”

“You will be silent while your father speaks. Know your place, and step down.” Jude asserted glaring at her with his eyes full of a fiery rage. Lucy felt the fear in her at that moment, she saw the man she had been afriad of since she was a  child, and allowed herself to go silent.

Silver interjected, “I’m sorry I don’t know what you mean. What game?”

“My daughter has supposedly fallen in love with someone different. The son of the Dragneels, who I’m most certain you know. She thinks she will accept no other than him, yet I do not approve of the boy. But still she has made countless attempts to foil her mother and I into arranging her with someone else. This, I’m afraid, is one of her plots. Your son seemed to have gotten himself involved this time however, which is new.” Jude explained.

Gray was in a bit of shock that he had seen right through them. He was under the impression they could be persuasive enough to get the job done, but he didn’t know who they were playing against. Jude was not only a business tycoon, but a mastermind of whatever mental games his daughter had tried to play with him. Every strategy, every move, nothing could be hidden from his analysis.

Silver understood then, “I see.”

The fury building in her was enough to give her strength. Although Lucy had tears pricking in her eyes she spoke up again, “Why do you think I have to do this! You won’t just listen to what I have to say! You won’t even give Natsu a chance? So what if Gray wanted to help, at least someone in this damn house listened!”

Jude was growing irritated with her, “Silence this outburst at once. This is not how you were raised, you will do as I say. You have no choice!”

Lucy felt herself boil over with every pent up emotion she had tucked away, “I will not just stay silent! I’ve spent every day being quiet, and that ends today! All my life, I never got to choose what I wanted and I was fine with it. This is the first time I want something with all my heart and you just want to shatter it! Well I’m not just going to lay down and marry whoever you want. I have dreams, dreams that things like money and status could never buy. And Natsu..” she paused thinking of his smile in her mind, “He’s one of those dreams, whether you like it or not.”

“Your disrespect will not be tolerated any longer! You think you know what you want, when really you know nothing at all! You’re way out of line and it’s time you learned where it is you should be.” Jude said and got ready to approach Lucy when Gray stepped in his path.

“Gray-” Silver started.

“Look, you clearly don’t know what you’re talking about. Not only are you being completely unfair to your own daughter, but you’re not even willing to listen to reason. You’ve never even met Natsu before so you have no idea of his character. He may be eccentric, but he’s exceptionally loyal and honest. He’s one of the most genuine people I know and you can’t even consider him for your daughter over all the other fakes she’s met? If you ask me, all your doing is hurting Lucy. It’s true, I don’t want to marry your daughter and I have no intention to and regardless I’m a man of integrity. I won’t betray Natsu over something like status. You’ll have to find a different sucker to swindle into that.”

Jude set his glare at him pointedly, “Young man, I suggest you stop here if you want any future with the Heartfilia family.”

“Father, please, just listen to him. He’s the only one who’s supported-”

“Lucy!!” Jude bellowed, “Shut that ungrateful mouth! I’m tired of hearing your silly little sob stories and your even more idiotic fantasies with that Dragneel boy! I’m done hearing what either of you have to say, you’ve both brought shame on your families with this ploy!”

Gray stepped forward with his anger increasing by the second, “Now just you wait a second Mr. Footuphisass, don’t talk to her like that. This is the kind of thanks she gets for following every order, every wish, you’ve ever wanted? What kind of sick man are you? Parents are supposed to love their kids, not treat them like mindless pawns in their games.” Gray shouted with his fists clenched.

“Alright, that’s quite enough from you-” Silver began towards Gray, who hadn’t finished his rant yet.

“No, you know what Dad I’m also fed up with hearing all this marriage bullshit too. Lucy and I may be different but we’re a lot alike in the sense that I’ve done nothing but what you’ve asked since I was a child! This ‘marriage’ was your idea and I’m putting my foot down.”

Silver’s eyes were dark with rage, “You better remember who you’re speaking to, boy. You’re a Fullbuster, you’re my son. You have responsibilities, expectations, you can’t just revoke everything I’ve worked so hard to do because you don’t want to.”

Everyone could feel the iciness in the room as the father and son duo glared at each other.

“Actually, dad, I can. If being a ‘Fullbuster’ means I’m going to hate myself for the rest of my life, I’ll fucking pass.”

Everyone in the room gasped and before Silver could lunge at his son, Ur stepped forward in front of him, “Out of this room, this instant!” She turned back to the Heartfilia’s laughing in embarrassment, “If you’ll excuse us for just a moment, we’ll talk to-”

“No, mom. I’m done talking. I’ve said everything you needed to hear.” Gray said with his eyes never leaving his father’s death stare. He turned around abruptly and almost bumped into Levy in the hall as he passed. Gray mumbled an apology to her and bursted out the front door to see the downpour of rain. Everyone in the room was left speechless and immobilized, the only sound being the slam of the door. He steamed with anger while he went straight past the carriage and out to the road. He didn’t want a single thing to do with his parents at the moment, even if that included riding in their carriage.

Then from the corner of his eye he saw something quite peculiar. To see if it was just a trick of the rain he turned his head to see the butterfly from before, the same colors and all, perched on the branch next to an opening in the woods. Soon it lifted from its perch and fluttered into the woods, leaving him compelled to follow it.

“Gray!” His father’s angry voice echoed in the distance. Gray snorted and stepped through the entrance to the woods. It would delay him going home at least, to clear his head from all the unwanted excitement of the day. The dark skies only grew darker above as thunder rumbled and soon it would be night. Gray did not look back as he crossed the stone bridge deeper into the forest, but if he did he would’ve seen the entrance he had come in through was no longer there.

[judesstfrancis]

so I was late to asking u things and I don't want u to have to repeat yourself so answer all the questions in the thing that you haven't already answered thank u 😌

the way I had to pull out my laptop to answer these bc I couldn’t keep them straight on my phone clipboard................ fdskjfsdkj I think I’m gonna put most of these under a read more so they don’t take up too much dash space. thank u!! <3

zinc white; how are you really feeling today? no one-word answers please!

honestly I’m great! it is currently almost 2 in the morning but my day was nice, I got some new clothes, did my laundry, made a good dinner...good vibes all around, loving it for me rn

yellow ochre; name an artist/band whom you just discovered & can’t get enough of!

I haven’t really listened to a lot of new music lately dkfjskj I think the most recent new artist I started listening to was orville peck?? but that was back in like february

naples yellow; where do you feel most at home?

uhh when I’m at home. yes I’m a homebody <3

raw sienna; with whom do you feel most at home? 

truly it’s with the thots I just feel so at ease

golden ochre; describe the relationship you have with your closest friend.

it’s just easy, u know? like no matter what we’re doing, even if we’re just vibing on our own together, it’s nice. I can tell them absolutely anything and it’s not weird and I don’t have to force it out at all

cadmium orange; what do you like to do on your days off?

ok first I always see if any of my friends are busy fkdjsfkj and if they aren’t I see if they wanna just chill or w/e but otherwise just like. turning some music up and sitting in my room with a book/a couple movies I love is ideal for me on a day off. I am very simple I just like to chill

orange lake; do you have anyone you can turn to when you’re sad?

yes! there are two whole people in this world that I spill absolutely everything to bc I trust them with my life and esp when I’m sad bc they always make me feel better. talking to them when I’m having A Day is like I vent and instantly I am normal again. they know who they are I’m sure but for transparency’s sake, it’s u (robin) and maya, no one else gets to unlock my tragic backstories <3

titans; do you prefer slow mornings or relaxing evenings? 

relaxing evenings!

shakhnazaryan red; are you currently binge-watching anything? 

actually I am currently rewatching cycles 1 through 22 of america’s next top model, I’m on like cycle 5 rn I think. having the time of my life, thanks for asking

red ochre; are you more right-brained (creative) or left-brained (analytical)?

I am very much more into creative endeavors, like work-wise, but I feel like the way I think about things is much more analytical. like I prefer Making things, writing or various crafts or what have u, but even when I create I think about the things I’m doing like analytically?? so ig left-brained

burnt sienna; is there a painting that brings you peace when you look at it? 

boy with squirrel by john singleton copley. I love him

english red; what animal do you relate to most?

interesting question! I have no idea. maybe birds? like a finch, maybe. they seem like they have fun

cadmium red; do you have a “type” when it comes to a significant other? 

this one is hard for me to answer bc like. I truly have no idea what a “type” is idk if that’s an ace thing or what. no? maybe? all the people I’ve had crushes on have been vastly different, in terms of like physical looks so probably not actually. I’m not attracted to muscular people tho bc I don’t think they have feelings <3

carmine; what does your ideal second date look like?

once again I have never pictured a date. I just want to hold hands! I think for the ideal first date question I said it just had to be going somewhere where we could Do things together, like walking around a museum or going through shops downtown or something, and that does still apply here, but for the sake of shaking it up, uhh...idk maybe staying in and watching a movie. like not at a theater no one needs to know my business like that but like. at a House. whoever’s, I’m not picky, again ideally I just want to hold hands.

madder lake red; would you ever kiss someone (or accept a kiss) on a first date?

yes. literally if the first thing u do is kiss me I am okay with it. I’m 23 someone just take the shot and kiss me already I’m going crazy over here

quinacridone rose; what’s something you’re really looking forward to? 

really looking forward to the holidays personally I got everyone some really good gifts this year and I can’t wait to hand them out. also my copy of 13 storeys is supposed to finally ship out this week, for real this time! so that’s exciting too

violet rose; what does your dream house look like? 

u know that idealized house with the yellow paint and the white trim? yes. just small and cute and homey

violet; is there any place in particular you’d like to settle down? 

I guess not?? I’d like to be somewhere near my mom bc she’s important to me but like. as long as I’m living with someone I love it doesn’t really matter where I don’t think

blue lake; what would you like to do/accomplish before you settle down?

uh. settling down to me equates to like falling in love and living together so honestly that could happen any time. I need to get a job before we live together so I can like Help Out but like. really any time

cobalt blue spectral; what is the most beautiful place you have ever been to?

I have not been to a lot of places! I’ve been to new york, and san diego, and like. phoenix outside of where I live so. actually if I can include like buildings in places I would like to say that one opera house I went to in new york. I learned I wasn’t a fan of operas BUT I also learned those chandeliers were cool as hell

ultramarine; when was the last time you were in a good mood? do you know/remember what sparked it?

I’m usually in a good mood, I think? my baseline mood is genuinely just like. happy/chill, pero I think the last time I felt Euphoria (tm) was a couple days ago when my mom and I made a really nice dinner together and my brother was there and we just played board games all night

blue; what’s the most recent dream you remember?

I have this recurring habit of waking up from dreams but only barely so when I fall back asleep it feels like I just woke up within the dream? anyway the last one was like that but in one of the times I ‘woke up’ I looked out the window and instead of outside there was like this. static photo of buffalo grazing in open fields?? and it was like green screened kinda, so when I move the image moved with my line of sight it was weird. that’s how I knew it was a dream and woke myself up again, only to immediately fall back asleep and feel like I was waking up from a dream within a dream again

bright blue; what does your dream family look like? any kids or pets? how many of each?

I think living with friends would be cool. like I want to have a significant other I live with but also if we lived with other friends that would be fun. kids, maybe! would be something I’d have to discuss with whatever partner I have in the future. if yes to kids, max two. also I don't want babies, preferably I would adopt older children. pets absolutely, however many doesn’t matter. I’m open to just living in a house with the love of my life and like twelve dogs, that’s ok with me

blue cobalt; do you like your name? would you give yourself a different name if you could?

I do like my name! I think it’s nice and it feels like it fits me. I don’t think I’d change it ever, but if I did I think maybe I’d go with jude bc yes I do love to project <3

prussian azure; what’s your favorite scent?

it’s a tie between suntan lotion and the lumber aisle of any hardware store

azure blue; what’s your favorite type of tea, if any?

vanilla rooibos tea supremacy!

turquoise blue; if you could start a garden, what would you plant?

lots of flowers, first of all. also some kitchen herbs. maybe some fruits!

cerulean blue; if you were guaranteed to have a viewership, would you start a youtube vlog?

yes <3 I want to force people to listen to my pretentious horror opinions and get paid for it

glauconite; describe your body without using any negative adjectives.

look I just have to say it: I’m hot. last night I took a photo and saw my nose from the side and went “omg who IS she” like it’s cute. I’M cute. I’ve seen my ass in the mirror and nothing can top it, sorry

yellow green; picture yourself walking in a field. what do you see & hear in this scenario?

all I’m getting is those scenes from horror movies where eerie whistling starts and like birds start going crazy

green light; are you in a comfortable place in life? if not, what do you think might make it better?

I think so?? I’d like to be more financially secure, pero. I think for the most part yeah I’m alright

green; name three countries you want to visit; do you have any actual plans in place to visit any of them?

ireland and greece for sure, ireland is the one I have most planned out in my head. ig maybe england for the third one, just bc I know my mom wants to go and also I’m very bad at geography so I don’t know what counts as a country. I had to look all these up, I do want to visit them tho, genuinely! esp ireland

emerald green; do you speak any languages besides english? are there any additional languages you want to learn?

the one I’m most fluent in is spanish! and I’m still cracking along at russian, currently I can hold a conversation with like a 4 year old and we can understand each other, it’s pretty cool. I really wanna get into learning irish!! I have a few resources downloaded onto my phone I just haven’t gotten around to it yet

oxide of chromium; what’s your favorite book?

a little life <3 yes I hate it when things are sad just to be sad yes this is my favorite book I contain multitudes

mars brown; what’s a movie that always puts a smile on your face/makes you laugh?

the burbs! I’ve seen it so many times but it always hits

burnt umber; what’s something you plan to do before the day is over to take care of yourself?

the day IS over it’s like two thirty am now but uh. drink some water before I sleep probably

voronezhskaya black; what or who is your go-to outlet for when you need to vent?

I post the “kirby’s fucking pissed” meme on twitter and then I ask u (robin) if I can yell for like five minutes and then I feel valid and then I am normal again

payne’s gray; describe your aesthetic?

it’s a little bit jock and it’s a little bit 1980s skater boy but the best way I can really Describe it is just “gay”

[judethswrld]

had his barber fly out so he could get a trim i love him 😭

[thefandomlesbian]

Do you have any headcannons or things you never wrote about for tlag? It's my all-time favorite fic!!

Why thank you!

I actually have... several versions of the TLaG canon, things that do fit and that universe and some things that are like, tangential fanfic of the TLaG canon--yes, it’s a bizarre concept but I think that’s what happens when you spend more than a year writing a half a million word story. 

There will be a sequel, To Rule and Guide, and then a series of one-shots (probably, unless I decide to chapter them) after that which detail Kit’s death and Lana and Mary Eunice taking custody of his children + also features Terry, Frieda’s daughter, who goes to university in Boston and stays with them. 

I do have a lot of things for TLaG that got cut out of the original outline, and I probably won’t remember all of them, but I’ll throw in the ones I remember.

-Jasmine and Katherine were once major players, but I realized that I could reassign almost all of their appearances to Lois and Barb. Because Lois and Barb are canon characters, I opted to take that route, and I cut out the rest of the Jasmine and Katherine appearances. If I ever get the chance to rewrite, Jasmine and Katherine will be cut out of the story entirely. 

-Rachel, the woman who Lana slept with in Chapter 22, is supposed to be the prostitute Dr. Arden hired in canon to imitate Mary Eunice. Originally, she had a plot point related to this and developed an uneasy friendship/alliance with Mary Eunice and Lana, but I felt that diverged too much from the story I was trying to tell and cut her out. 

-Katherine was originally a first love interest for Mary Eunice assisting in her lesbian awakening (realizing she was attracted to women as a whole, not just Lana), but it got trimmed with the rest of Katherine’s appearances. 

-The original outline did not have any appearances for Lana’s family. I was commuting to school one early morning (had a 55 minute drive one way at that time) when I had the image of Mary Eunice carrying a little girl out of a black forest with Gus leading the way. It took a few more weeks for me to conceptualize the rest of Lana’s family and link everything together for them. 

-In the first draft of chapter 32, Frieda came out as bisexual to Lana. I eventually trimmed this and altered it so Timothy came out as gay instead because Frieda’s original dialogue made her sound like she was considering leaving John/breaking up her family after Lana’s example, and that just made me feel really icky inside to have a bisexual character insinuate she wasn’t willing to commit because of her bisexuality. 

-Gus was added on a complete whim. In the first outline, the mysterious sound they heard was a rabid raccoon that Lana had to shoot and kill. It happened that around the time I was about to start writing that chapter, one of the individuals I work with had the exact same thing happen with an extremely emaciated, neglected rottweiler--weighing sixty pounds, supposed to weigh around one hundred pounds, skin and bones, arthritic. The real Gus’s name was Gavin, and he gained weight, was conditioned well, and went into his forever home after a few months of TLC. 

-Pepper lived in the first outline, but I realized that her reappearances unnecessarily complicated things upon review. I opted to kill her off to monopolize on Mary Eunice’s emotional vulnerability so that she would be prime for the demon to take possession of her body, because technically according to Catholic canon, possession is a choice and not one I could imagine her opting into without being under extreme emotional duress and being trapped between a rock and a hard place (feeling she needed to succumb to evil in order to spare Lana’s life). 

-Sister Jude died at some point in the first outline. Upon reconsideration, I realized I had a very important role for her to play in the sequel, which I’m sure you’ll see when we get that far. 

-In TLaG, Mary Eunice did not choose to leave the sisterhood; it was forced upon her when she was defrocked. In TRaG, she is given the opportunity to choose Lana. 

[fangirlingtodeath513]

Sweetheart | a destiel fanfic

written for the @deanandcasbingo

Rating: T

read here on ao3

Why Dean ever agreed to truth or dare with this group is beyond him. They’re his best friends, which means they know every button to push to embarrass him.

“Dean! Truth or dare?” Charlie grins, her drink sloshing around in her cup as she points at him.

“Dare,” he answers, leaning back on his hands.

Charlie blinks at him for a moment before grinning mischievously. “Show us your underwear.”

Leave it to Charlie. Of course he’d chosen today to not wear his boxers. He could just say no and take a drink—they’d agreed on that if they didn’t want to answer the question or do the dare—but he’s not chickening out. Charlie knows exactly what she’s doing and Dean’s not gonna let her win.

Sighing, he sets his drink aside and stands, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He slides them down, revealing the black cotton panties he’s wearing, the lace trim hugging his waist and legs. He hears a few gasps and Charlie giggles, so he tugs his pants back up as he sits back down and grabs his drink.

“Well, don’t think I ever woulda seen that comin’,” Benny says, a mixture of shock and mirth on his face.

Dean rolls his eyes, taking a sip. “Benny, truth or dare?”

Benny snorts. “Truth, brother. Your dares are terrifying.”

Dean smirks. “Fair enough. When are you gonna marry Andrea?”

Benny blushes, ducking his head. For a moment, Dean thinks he’s going to take a drink, but then Benny inhales. “I bought a ring a couple of weeks ago. I was gonna propose when we all go to dinner next week.”

“Oh my god!” Charlie squeals, setting her drink aside and dragging Benny into a hug. Benny chuckles, hugging her back.

“She ain’t said yes yet, cher.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “She will.”

Benny smiles, hiding it by taking a drink. “Cas, truth or dare?”

Castiel smirks. “You know I don’t do dares. Truth.”

“One of these days we’ll get you to do a dare,” Meg mutters, shaking her head.

“Alright, if you had to date someone in this room, who would it be?”

Cas doesn’t even hesitate, “Dean, easy. I’ve known him since I was four and he’s easy to live with.”

Charlie smirks. “Not to mention attractive. I’m into ladies and even I can see that.”

Castiel flushes but doesn’t say anything. It makes Dean’s heart skip a beat just imagining that Cas might feel the same way that he does.

“Meg, truth or dare?” Castiel asks, clearing his throat and turning to her.

“Truth.”

Cas smirks. “Where's the strangest place you’ve had sex?”

Meg frowns as she thinks. “The quiet floor of the library.”

Dean gapes. “At college? How? Missouri patrolled that floor like a correctional officer.”

She smirks. “Those tables in the back that were closed on three sides? Kneel under there and she won’t see you.”

“I regret asking,” Cas says, shaking his head as he takes a sip.

“Dean, you still got those truth or dare cards? My brain’s getting too fuzzy to think of things.” Charlie giggles, finishing her drink and pouring another. Dean grabs the card game from his bedroom, separating the truth and dare cards.

“Meg, you’re up,” he says, taking his seat next to Castiel and taking a sip of his own drink.

Her eyes scan the circle before landing on Jo. “Jo, truth or dare?”

Jo hums. “Dare.”

Meg grins, grabbing a bottle of vodka. “I dare you to take a body shot off of Charlie.”

Jo snorts. “Easy, gimme.” She takes the bottle from Meg, nudging Charlie onto her back. She pushes her shirt up, pouring a bit of the vodka onto Charlie’s stomach, setting the bottle aside and licking the alcohol up. Meg giggles and Gabriel wolf-whistles, much to Charlie’s embarrassment.

The longer they play and the drunker they get, the more sexual the questions and dares become. Most of the stuff they’ve already covered, like Balthazar’s penchant for threesomes—or orgies, if he can manage to convince enough people—and whether Dean spits or swallows, but a few new things get dug up.

“Garth, truth or dare?” Anael asks, smirking as Garth blushes.

“Dare,” Garth says, swaying slightly where he sits.

Anael giggles. “Do a strip tease on the coffee table.”

Dean snickers, grabbing his phone and playing Pony through the stereo in the living room. Garth whips his shirt off and climbs onto the table, grinding and gyrating his hips in ways Dean never wants to see again. Nearly everyone is dying of laughter at the obviously joking manner Garth’s dancing, but Bess’s eyes are locked on her fiancé, face flushed a bright red. Dean smiles to himself, watching her instead.

Garth and Bess are high school sweethearts that made it through all four years of college halfway across the country without a single incident. Dean admires them, if he’s being honest with himself. Their relationship is the type he strives to have one day—open and honest, where they’re best friends first and foremost. It’s basically what he has with Cas, except he doesn’t get to end his days in bed next to Castiel.

The song ends and Garth steps down from the table clumsily, grin wide as he pulls his clothes back on. Bess grins up at him, glowing from the combination of alcohol and arousal. Chuckling to himself, Dean finishes his drink and raises an eyebrow at Garth.

They continue on like that for a while. Charlie’s dared to spray whipped cream on Dean and lick it off him, so she covers his arm and licks it off, much to both Dean and Charlie’s embarrassment. Meg admits that she’s thought about being a stripper, but the creepy dudes are too much of a turn-off. They even manage to get Castiel to do a dare, though they promise it’ll be a tame one. Benny comes up with the dare, which is to show them the tattoo he’d gotten in college. He and Dean had gotten sloshed that night, and the combination of alcohol and poor young adult decision-making had led to them getting tattoos. They’re small and easily hidden by clothes, though Dean wouldn’t get rid of his for anything.

Dean and Cas had picked out each other’s tattoos. Nothing too fancy, and nothing over a hundred bucks. Dean’s ended up being just two words—Hey Jude—in blocky letters just over his right hip bone. Castiel’s was a small honeybee with a dotted path leading to a small honeycomb, just above his left hip.

No one’s ever seen that tattoo, as far as Dean knows. Well, no one in their friend group, anyway. He’s seen Castiel bring home one night stands before, there’s no doubt they’ve seen it. And, as far as Dean knows, none of their friends know the story behind their tattoos either.

Castiel rolls his eyes, leaning back against the couch and lifting his shirt up. A soft murmur runs through the group, though most of them are simply confused.

“A… bee? Why a bee?” Anael asks, head tilted to the side, her long, red hair curling down her shoulders. In another lifetime, Dean would be so interested in her, but he’s only got eyes for Castiel.

Castiel smiles, tugging his shirt down. “Not your turn. Besides, I think that’s a story I’ll keep to myself, at least for now.”

Dean can’t help but smile. He knows exactly why Castiel wants to keep that story a secret, and he can’t exactly blame him. It goes all the way back to their childhood, though no one knows the full story.

They’d met when they were four, only a few months after Dean’s mother had died. They were in the same pre-k class and Castiel had been sitting alone during recess, picking flowers in the tiny field behind the school. Dean had wandered over just in time to see a honeybee land on the back of Castiel’s hand. He’d watched the younger boy with something he can only imagine resembled fascination as Cas’s big blue eyes turned to look at him. Castiel had quietly explained that his father was a beekeeper and that he liked being around the bees, liked watching them work. It’d been an odd introduction, though Dean hadn’t known that at the time. Regardless, from that moment on, he and Castiel were inseparable.

Dean’s tattoo had come from a midnight admission almost a decade later. Uncle Bobby had bought him a guitar for his birthday and, despite everyone’s insistence that he learn something current, Dean’s first song had been Hey Jude. It was a song he remembered his mother singing to him, and one of the only pieces he had left of her that was entirely his own. He told Castiel that the night of his birthday, well after he’d locked himself in his bedroom, intent on learning the chords. It was the first time he’d cried in front of Castiel.

“Dean, truth or dare?” Cas murmurs, words a bit slurred.

Blinking away the memories, Dean clears his throat and focuses on Castiel. “Truth.”

Castiel smirks. “What were you thinking about the last time you jacked off?”

Dean flushes, immediately pouring himself a shot and knocking it back. No way in hell is he answering that, since the answer would be Castiel.

The entire group stares at him in surprise. Dean frowns, shuffling around self-consciously. “What?”

“You’ve never turned anything down before,” Charlie says, squinting at Dean.

Dean shrugs. “Give me another one, then.”

Cas hums. “What was the worst sex you’ve ever had?”

Dean snorts. “Ah, Cassie Robinson. Senior year of high school. Condom broke halfway through, I couldn't get her to come, and I swear she was trying to bite me when she was blowing me.”

Cas winces in sympathy. “Ouch.”

Charlie yawns. “We should end the game, I’m gonna pass out. Same way as always?”

The group agrees, so Charlie draws a dare card and immediately dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Go skinny dipping.”

Everyone is still for a moment, then they all file out of the living room and onto Dean and Cas’s back porch. Their pool is clean and inviting, and it’s mostly dark, save for the one light they have over the back door. They won’t really be able to see anything in the darkness of the night, so Dean strips his clothes off and is the first to jump in the pool.

By the time he surfaces, there are splashes on nearly every side of him as his friends jump into the water. He shakes the water out of his hair, grinning as someone to his left splashes him. He splashes back blindly, laughing as he hears an indignant gasp from his left. It’s so dimly lit that he can only make out shadows, but soon there’s water splashing in every direction as all of his friends join in with loud, drunken laughter.

Eventually, he hops out and grabs a stack of towels from the pool shed. He dries himself off with one and leaves the rest on the deck, tugging his jeans on as everyone else climbs out of the pool.

“Okay, definitely bedtime,” Charlie mumbles, yawning.

Dean chuckles, heading inside and dragging every spare pillow and blanket in their house into the living room. Everyone files inside and they all pick an area of the floor, rearranging the blankets and pillows until everyone is comfortable. It’s a relatively tight squeeze, but they’ve all been close since at least college, so it’s not even slightly uncomfortable. At least, it wouldn't be, if Castiel wasn’t laying so close that Dean can practically hear his heartbeat. Resigning himself to his fate, he rolls onto his side and tries to fall asleep.

The next thing he knows, he’s waking up in a pool of his own sweat. It feels like there’s a space heater directly against his back, so he tries to move away from it. It’s only then that he realizes it’s a person behind him, one who has an arm slung around Dean’s middle. Dean lifts the arm up gently and tries to shift away, though whoever it is cuddling him clearly doesn’t like that. They whine quietly and snuggle closer to him, replacing their arm around his waist. A light kiss is placed to the back of Dean’s neck by a pair of very chapped lips. That would’ve given away who it was if they hadn’t decided to speak.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Cas murmurs, his words still slurred and his arm tight around Dean’s waist.

Sweetheart? What the hell? He’s been living with Cas for almost six years now, and Cas has never called him sweetheart before. He can hear Cas’s breath even out behind him, followed by nearly silent snoring.

“Sweetheart?” Charlie mumbles groggily. He can’t see her in the darkness of the living room, but he can picture the face she’s making perfectly. Half curious, half insulted.

“We’re not dating, Charlie. I don’t know why he said that. Maybe he was dreaming I was someone else.”

Charlie snickers and Dean can hear her shuffling around. “Or he’s really drunk and his inhibitions are down.”

Dean rolls his eyes and doesn’t bother responding. It’s far too early in the morning to dwell on Cas’s misspoken word, so Dean just closes his eyes and tries to fall back asleep. It takes a while—obviously, Cas’s arm is around Dean’s waist, no way is he forgetting that quickly—but eventually, he manages it.

The next time he wakes, it’s to stifled laughter from his friends. He rubs his eyes, blinking against the sunlight coming in through the patio door. There’s still an arm slung around his waist and soft breaths tickling the back of his neck. He doesn’t want to move but the giggling continues and he’s intensely curious what it’s about.

“Well, good morning to the happy couple,” Meg smirks, sipping from her mug as she meets Dean’s gaze. “Take it you two slept well?”

Dean blinks at her in confusion. “Me? What’re you talking about?”

Meg snorts, motioning to where Cas’s arm is still wrapped around his waist. Dean glances down at his arm, then back up at Meg, more confused than he’d been before. “Me and Cas? No way, he doesn’t like me that way.”

Charlie giggles. “He called you sweetheart last night.”

“Y’all coulda just told us you were datin’,” Benny says, cradling a cup of coffee in his hands. “You two have been makin’ eyes at each other for years now, none of us would’ve been surprised.”

Dean scoffs, though it’s mostly to distract from the blush on his cheeks. “Making eyes? I have never once made eyes at anyone, much less Cas.”

Castiel whines, nuzzling against the back of Dean’s neck. “Shhh, too early.”

Charlie grins. “Too early, huh? That why you called Dean sweetheart last night?”

Cas mumbles incoherently and Dean thinks he might’ve fallen back asleep until he goes rigid against Dean’s back and quickly withdraws his arm. “I what? I didn’t say that.”

Jo laughs. “You definitely did, I heard it too.”

Castiel shuffles away and sits up, rubbing his eyes. “Must’ve been asleep.”

Dean can’t help the way the statement hurts his heart. He’d sort of been hoping that it’d been a high-alcohol, low-inhibitions moment where Castiel had admitted his feelings. Of course he couldn’t be so lucky.

“Right, so who wants breakfast? We stocked up on eggs and bacon,” Dean says, making his way out of the blanket pile on the floor. He heads straight to the kitchen, not even waiting for an answer from the group. He gets coffee brewing before digging out the eggs and bacon from the fridge.

No one joins him in the kitchen, which is weird. Normally everyone would crowd into the kitchen and they’d all chat while Dean made breakfast. This is so far from normal that it’s kinda freaking Dean out.

“Dean?”

Dean breathes a sigh of relief, turning to glance at Castiel. “Hey, Cas. I was gettin’ a little lonely in here.”

Castiel smiles softly. “Well, I’m happy to keep you company.” He leans against the counter and watches Dean cook, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I don’t remember saying that, and I didn’t mean for us to end up sleeping the way we did.”

Dean waves a hand at him, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it, Cas. It’s all good.”

Cas hums. “They think we’re secretly dating.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Dean laughs, shaking his head. “Weird, right?”

Castiel hesitates, which makes Dean frown.

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

Cas shrugs. “No, I mean, you’re right, it is a little weird.”

“You don’t think it’s weird,” Dean reiterates, his voice a mixture of wonder and confusion. Has Castiel really had feelings for him for a while? “You like me?”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Of course I like you, I wouldn’t live with you if I didn’t.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. Do you have feelings for me?”

Castiel hesitates, which should be more than enough of an answer, but Dean wants to hear him say it. Eventually, Castiel caves and ducks his head, a blush coloring his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—mmph!”

Dean cuts him off with a kiss, pulling Castiel flush against him. His lips are chapped but so soft and pliant against Dean’s that he keeps kissing him. Cas’s arms wind around Dean’s neck and it’s like the icing on the cake.

At least, it would’ve been if the smell of burning eggs hadn’t reached them at that exact moment. Dean pulls away with a gasp, spinning on the spot and switching the burner off, moving the pan of charred eggs to the back burner. He slips the bacon, shooting Castiel a cheeky grin. “Well worth the burnt eggs, I think.”

Castiel rolls his eyes but there’s a fond smile on his lips. It makes Dean’s stomach roll in the best way, so Dean pulls him into another kiss.

“I suppose I can’t disagree,” Castiel says with a smile, kissing the corner of Dean’s mouth.

“Took you two long enough,” Gabriel says from the doorway, snickering when he startles both Dean and Cas. Dean rolls his eyes, throwing a hand towel at him.

“Get outta here, man!”

They can hear Gabriel cackling as he heads back to the living room. There’s a moment of silence, followed by loud cheers from their group of friends, undoubtedly because Gabriel had just told them he’d caught Dean and Cas making out in the kitchen.

“That’s… disturbing. Have they really been waiting that long to see us together?” Castiel murmurs, eyes still on the doorway where Gabriel had been.

Dean shrugs, kissing Cas’s temple before returning his attention to the stove. “Maybe. I know I have.”

Castiel hums, leaning against the counter and smiling softly. “Well, I’m glad my sleep and alcohol-addled brain exposed me, then.”

Dean laughs, leaning over to kiss him gently. “Me too.”

[mwub]

Etched in Stone

Chapter 1: Celestite

Sorry for taking so long, I’ve been moving and have limited internet access so I’m not online as often as I would like😅.

Anyways this is the first chapter for my multi fic Etched in Stone, thank you @ineffable-nalu for beta reading it, it gave me some ideas how to progress the story better

Without further ado~

——————————————————————————-

“Mama!”

“Yes dear?”

“Can you tell me our story?”

“Lucy dear, you've heard that story what must be a thousand times. Are you sure you want to add another to that tally?” A regal blond woman laughed at the expense of her now pouting daughter. The little girl greatly resembled her mother both in bearing and in looks. Golden blond hair framed her round but not too round face, a light dusting of freckles crossed the bridge of her button nose underneath large chocolate brown eyes, now sparkling with wonder as her mother began the story.

“Long ago,” Layla hummed, tucking Lucy deeper into her bed. Brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “There was nothing, no animals, no plants, no people to call Earthland home. For Earthland did not yet exist. And then one day the sun and moon, who loved each other very much but could not be together began to cry for they were lonely and wanted to share what they have with others. From those tears came life.”

“When the moons tears fell, so did the stars, oceans formed and moved to the moons silent songs. When the suns fell, volcanoes reached high up for the heavens in hopes of one day meeting the stars.”

“Get to the part about how real life formed mama”

“I’m getting there sweetheart” Layla laughed in reply.

“When the volcanoes split the earth, so did the ocean in response, creating lakes, rivers, and streams. And in some areas so cold the oceans becomes living stone.”

“ But it was not enough for the Sun and Moon, for they wanted more. They wanted children of their own. So in desperation they shed more tears and breathed life into the environments of their own creation. From the sea the first mermaids and mermen sang their first songs. From the stars came the first celestial priests and priestesses. And from the volcanoes came…”

“Dragons” Came an excited squeal from underneath a mountain of blankets.

“Uh huh, from the deep depths of volcanoes came Dragons. Now, when the Sun and Moon formed their children , they warned them that they must not consort with humans, for it will bring disaster. The creatures of the sea and stars agreed but the king of the dragons did not. He believed one should love who they wanted and did so anyway.”

Lucy clutched her dragon plushie tighter in anticipation.

“The Sun and Moon grew angry with the dragon and so cursed him with his disobedience. Never to be seen again”

“Whatever happened to the rest of the creatures, mama?”

“Despite obeying the Sun and Moon, the others were punished as well for fear of rebellion. Their powers locked away in the stones for which they were born, serving as relics to a great betrayal. Living as ordinary beings amongst the humans they were told to fear.”

Lucys eyes began to droop as a deep yawn escaped her, sleep taking its toll. Layla smiled lovingly at her daughter, reaching to wind a small music box on her bedside, delicate music tinkling gently.

“What do you think happened to the Dragon mama?”

“ Well I would hope he’s found peace, one who loves too much shouldn’t suffer forever.”

“Good night my Darling... “ Was the last thing Lucy heard before letting sleep take her.

———————————————————————

“What do you mean you don’t have any of those kinds of books?”

“We sell fact not fiction mam, as I’m sure you are well aware of that by now miss Heartfilia.” A flat voice drawled in reply, timbre as dull as the face making it.

19 Year old Lucy Heartfilia couldn’t believe it, this was the third town she had visited that refused to sell any of the old lore books, believing them to be blasphemous to the sacred teachings of Zentopia. She had really hoped that Hargeons famous library would be different but no such luck.

Oh well, time for good ol’ plan T.

‘Are you sure there isn't any dusty old books hidden the back~” Batting her eyelashes with gusto, leaning onto the counter, giving the store keeper a peak at her generous cleavage.

“A-Absolutely not! For the last time miss, no one carries that type of literature anymore, the church ordered their burning years ago.” The old man blustered with a face as red as a Roma tomato. “I couldn't sell you any even if could get my hands on a tome”

“Now get out”

“Stupid old Geezer’ Lucy huffed outside the shop now, refitting her paperwork back into her leather satchel and straightening her dark blue tartan skirt and white button down blouse topped with a adorable black vest. She had even dressed the part too, a scholarly student researching for a history project. What a waste of time, Another day, another bust.

Oh right, I forgot to introduce myself didn't I? My name is Lucy Heartfilia, daughter of Layla and Jude Heartfilia, Jude being a local bank owner and Layla a seamstress, at least they were until the economy crash 13 years ago. Jude died of a stroke from over working and mama… let's just say fate had other plans for her. I’ve essentially been on my own since I was 15, with only a few belongings of my own I've been on my own ever since.

Taking out her notebook Lucy couldn’t help but sigh, there goes Hargeon off her list, uncapping her marker to cross it off. At least that’s what she was trying to do when life hit her with an unexpected surprise. A pink one in fact.

Before she could even put the tip of her permanent marker to the paper she suddenly was shoved to the hard concrete, black ink streaking across her cheek in a zigzag. Oh NO, her makeup was completely ruined.

Rising up on her elbows to give whatever hit her a piece of her mind Lucy was stopped short by something extremely odd. No, not something. Someone.

As her vision cleared she was confronted first with dark, almost black green eyes inches from her own chocolate ones, and even more oddly. Salmon pink hair sticking up in a messy disarray of spikes all over his head, almost seeming intentional in its unruly chaos.

Next was the alarmingly warm hands on either side of her waist, breaking the fall of what Lucy now realized was a boy perhaps her own age. Lucy could say for a matter of fact he was good looking, decently built with a muscular physique comparable to a pro athletes and a perfect tan to boot. Yes, definitely cute.

Lucy didn’t get to ponder for long as the stranger then suddenly jumped to his feet with surprising agility, his hands bringing her up with him in a rush that had her head swim a little dizzily. One hand on her waist and the other holding her own limp hand.

“Watch where you’re walking weirdo, don’t wanna get yourself hurt do you?’ The boy laughed, still holding her a little too close for a stranger to be doing. What’s with this guy?

“Excuse me? You bumped into me, who the heck sprints down the street like that without looking where they’re going” Lucy huffed, her head finally clearing from the shock of her present situation.

The boy only smirked. “Oh I know I where I was going, you just happened to be in the way. What's the point of going somewhere if you don’t know where you’re headed”

“I-I Know where I’m going” Lucy blushed. “I’m going to the Magnolia after I finish my work here.” Lucy finished with a sense of finality,gripping her satchel more firmly, why would he even ask that silly question? Of course she knows where she’s going.

“Ok… well in that case you were walking in the wrong direction. Magnolia isWest, not East of here.” Snickered her mystery boy.

“Oh, well thank you” Lucy coughed a little awkwardly, taking a step back finally to take in his full appearance finally. He really was in excellent shape. Broad shoulders tapered sharply under a black one armed waistcoat trimmed with gold thread, cream trousers held up by a similar colored sash around his waist and a pair of black sandals adorned his feet simply. The collar of his jacket open just enough for Lucy to get a glimpse of toned chest littered with faint white scars.

A bit of an odd outfit in Lucy’s opinion, but for whatever reason it seemed to suit him.

“What’s your name?” The boy asked suddenly, snapping Lucy back to reality.

“Lucy… Lucy Heartfilia” Answering automatically, Lucy cursed herself, she just met this boy and she already felt the need to spill all her secrets. Aquarius would be ashamed of her. Never trust a man with your secrets, secrets are a woman's best hand in a war.

“Thats a nice name,” Pinkie whistled. “My names N-”

“STOP RIGHT THERE! THIEF” A booming voice rang out over the stone courtyard, suddenly dozens of Zentopian royal guards flooded surrounding area.

“Thief..” Lucy whispered, eyes widening slowly.

“Crap” N growled, his Happy Go Lucky demeanor suddenly dropping as he made a run for it, he was practically a blur as he made a mad dash onto a more crowded street and seemed to vanish among the crowds of the local shopping district and boutiques.

“Excuse me miss” A grave looking guard approached Lucy. “Do you happen to know anything about this boy?” Holding up what appears to be a wanted poster of N. Except instead of the seemingly happy guy she just met, she was greeted with the face of a much more menacing looking criminal. Sharp soulless eyes pierced her soul with malice and a cruel sneer curved his lips. She did not know this person.

“No, nothing at all.” Lucy said curtly. Keeping a firm jaw in hopes of not giving anything away. While it was true she didn’t know anything about him, she wanted to. Gripping her satchel more firmly in an effort to stand her ground, she stared back at the guard.

Giving her a hard look the guard finally deemed her innocent enough and thankfully moved on to interrogate more passerby.

Releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding, she bent down to collect some of the papers that had fallen with her unexpected date with the ground, noting that some appeared to be missing or at the very least out of order. She’ll check on that later on the train to Magnolia.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts of pink hair and a fanged grin, Lucy slowly made her way to the train station with vague hopes of catching the last train of the evening. Better luck tomorrow she guessed.

[flve-hargreeves]

( chris wood, 28, he/him ) class is in session for ANSEM WARBECK. their resume says they’re a WITCH and they’ve been teaching MENTAL MAGIC at the academy for THREE YEARS. the psychological report says they are LETHARGIC and CONTEMPTUOUS, but they’re also IRONWILLED and COMPASSIONATE. we wish them good luck in the new school year.  

— * | ansem warbeck is the oldest child of ragnor and celena warbeck. he has a twin brother named arson and while they are identical, they couldn’t be more different. both ragnor and celena are influential members of the magical community and always prided themselves on having a stellar reputation. stellar isn’t quite so stellar though; they are morally gray.  they  never get into dark magic themselves, but their family has profited heavily from it over the years.  ( think … war profiteers, i guess.  they never get their hands dirty but they have plenty of blood money ).  arson is the dutiful son, the good son, and ansem’s always been the disappointment who couldn’t live up to their expectations.  ( the michael bluth )

 ansem was never good at doing what he was told and rebelled against the behaviours his parents tried to ingrain in him. he never listened, always liked to do his own thing, and never bought into the whole ‘pureblood supremacy’ thing that they tried to drill into his head.  so what if they came from an old witch family? la creme de la crop? magic was magic. he figured if you could do it, you were just as good as anyone else.  ( his family disagreed. )  he  started  at  arcanas  when  he  was  eleven,  like  his  descendants  before  him,  and  was  a  member  of  house  aquis.  

       personality wise, ansem is sharp, sarcastic, and doesn’t have a high tolerance for people. the list of people he dislikes is longer than those he likes. he likes to have a good laugh ( sometimes at the expense of others ) and isn’t one to take on responsibility. ironic, given he’s now teaching at the school he used to go to. for someone as intelligent as he is, he does the least amount of work possible and does well but never really exceeds his own expectations. he’s incredibly lazy and can usually be found snacking or napping around the school.

 shortly after graduation he worked as a for hire curse breaker.  if there was a hex you couldn’t undo, or a curse on your family name, he was the guy you called to fix it.  he was good too.  it was only after a curse backfired and nearly killed him that he got scared and backed out of it. the fear was greater than the love he had.  arcanas was safe, a reminder of good days (and far far away from his family) so he was happy to ya yeet out of the real world.  less than a year after graduation, he was enrolled at a magical college and eventually became a mental magic teacher.

 another  point  of  irony,  given  how  much  he  claims  to  hate  people,  is  the  story  of  how  a  twenty/twenty one  year  old  mess  accidentally  adopted  an  eleven  year  old.   it  was  an  assignment  from  one  of  the  teachers  or  housemasters,  a  mentorship  program  between  tenth  and  first  years.  he  was  assigned  jade  brantley  and  at  first  ?  oh  boy  did  he  hate  her.   or  rather,  the  responsibility  he  felt  towards  her.   it  became  pretty  evident  the  more  he  got  to  know  her  that  they  were  put  together  for  a  reason.   her  family  had  sent  her  to  arcanas  without  so  much  as  a  second  look  and  couldn’t  have  cared  less  if  they  ever  saw  her  again.   she  stayed  behind  at  the  school  for  christmas,  as  did  he  to  avoid  tense  family  dinners  with  the  warbecks,  and  that  was  when  their  mentorship  started  to  become  more  like  family.   

by  the  end  of  the  year,  he  looked  at  her  like  —  his  kid,  if  he  was  being  honest.   it  was  kind  of  terrifying,  wanting  to  protect  another  person  from  the  realities  of  their  life,  but  he  knew  it  was  the  right  decision  to  make.  it  helped  that  his  partner  agreed;   they’d  come  to  care  about  jade  in  those  months  too,  and  they  both  knew  it  was  the  right  call.   he  contacted  her  parents,  assumed  temporary  guardianship,  and  she  moved  in  with  them  that  summer  after  they  graduated.   (  the individual that set all of this up,  the  cheeky  bastard,  sent  them  a  potted  plant  as  a  housewarming  gift.   a  plant  that  would  have  needed  to  have  been  potted  SIX  MONTHS  EARLIER.   he’d  be  mad  about  getting  played  if  he  wasn’t  so  happy.  )

they  formally  adopted  jade  a  few  years  later.  they  were  already  family  in  everything  but  blood  and  name  —  it  was  simply  a  formality.   the  three  of  them  —  four,  if  you  counted  jessica  the  cat  (  famously  known  for  stepping  on  faces  )  —  had  been  more  of  a  family  than  any  of  his  blood  relatives  had  ever  been.     he’s  never  regretted  his  choices.

that  being  said,  things  weren’t  always  happy.  he  and  his  partner  fought  a  lot,  sometimes  over  nothing  and  couldn’t  remember  why  they  ever  loved  each  other  in  the  first  place.  but  this  isn't  a  story  about  vindictive  exes,  it's  about  two  people  that  do  love  each  other,  probably  always  will,  but  just  didn't  love  being  together  anymore.  they're  excellent  co-parents  to  their  adopted  daughter  and  they're  working  their  way  back  to  being  best  friends  even  though  it's  a  little  awkward.  they  split  up  roughly  three  years  ago,  shortly  after  ansem  started  teaching  at  arcanas.

he  was  a  bit  of  a  mess  that  first  year,  i  won’t  lie.  he  probably  drank  too  much,  smoked  like  a  chimney,  and  was  trying  to  remember  how  to  be  a  person  instead  of  1/2  of  a  couple.  he’d  been  with  his  partner  almost  his  entire  life,  it  was  a  process  —  discovering  himself  again.  he  eventually  started  seeing  jude  montague  (  who,  ironically,  he’d  always  had  a  schoolboy  crush  on  when  he  was  a  student  )  who  also  taught  at  the  school.  one  thing  led  to  another  and  they’ve  recently  taken  things  to  the  next  level:  they  got  married.   ansem’s  still  a  little  terrified  this  one  is  going  to  go  belly  up  too,  that  he’s  going  to  mess  things  up,  but  they’re  still  in  the  newlywed  phase  so  he’s  not  quite  as  pessimistic  on  their  outlook.   it  also  helps  that  his  family  hates  jude:   1.  he’s  much  older,  even  without  the  whole  phoenix  thing,  2.  he’s  not  a  pureblood  witch  who  comes  from  a  good  family  name,  and  3.  he’s  a  man.   yeah,  celena  warbeck  was  not  happy  and  threatened  to  cut  him  off.   she  didn’t,  of  course,  but  his  father  hasn’t  spoken  a  single  word  to  him  ever  since  they  got  married.  it’s  a  game  now,  trying  to  see  if  he  can  say  or  do  something  to  make  him  break.  so  far,  he  hasn’t  won.  

 when  he’s  not  staying  at  arcanas,  watching  over  his  water  demons,  he’s  at  his  house  nearby.   now  that  he’s  married  jude,  however,  the  clan  (  bc  ansem  doesn’t  go  anywhere  without  jade,  jessica,  and  by  extension  kit  )  will  be  moving  into  his  definitely-haunted  house  nearby.  it’s  an  old  victorian,  fits  jude’s  goth  boy  aesthetic  perfectly,  and  tbh  as  long  as  it  has  decent  wifi  and  an  espresso  machine?  he’ll  be  fine.  

     he’s been teaching mental magic at arcanas academy for three years, so connections can be assumed with other staff members and students !!   he’s also been the housemaster for aquis, who he refers to as his water demons, so that’s opportunities for connections too! ( there’s also a 99% chance he calls all of his students by pokemon names. sorry not sorry. )   he’s  your  typical  panic  first,  think  logically  later,  type  person,  so  if  he  heard  about  the  orb  being  stolen  he’d  fear  for  their  inevitable  demise.   y’know,  chaotic  and  assuming  the  worst  case  scenario  from  the  get  go.

so that’s basically him in essence.  see some quick stats below for more tidbits.

*

— * | BASICS !

NAME: — ansem ragnorius warbeck.

NICKNAME(S): — ansem.

PRONOUNS: —he/him.

AGE/DOB: — twenty seven / july 25th.  (  he’s  almost  28,  so  don’t  @  me  )

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: — pansexual.

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: — panromantic.

ETHNICITY: — caucasian.

NATIONALITY: — british.

HOMETOWN: — manchester, uk.

EDUCATION: — he previously attended  arcanas, aquis house.  four  years  @  a  magical  college  near  aurora  /  arcanas  school. 

— * | PERSONALITY !

STAR SIGN: — leo.

PERSONALITY TYPE: — ESTP.

ALIGNMENT: — chaotic neutral.

PHOBIA(S): — enclosed spaces, clowns, snakes.

VICE(S): — cynicism, impatience, vindictiveness, spitefulness.

VIRTUE(S): — accountability, candor, realism, honesty, loyalty.

— * | RELATIONS !

PARENT(S): — ragnor and celena warbeck.

SIBLING(S): — arson warbeck ( twin brother. )

SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S): —  married.

— * | PHYSICAL !

FACECLAIM: — chris wood.

HEIGHT: — 6'0.

WEIGHT: — 71kg.

EYE COLOR: — brown.

HAIR COLOR: — brown.

GLASSES/CONTACTS: — n/a.

TATTOOS: — n/a.

PIERCINGS: — n/a.

SCARS: — jagged scar across his collarbone.

— * | MEDICAL !

ALLERGIES: — shellfish.

SMOKING/ALCOHOL/DRUGS: — former smoker. he hasn’t had a cigarette in approx. 112 days.  he drinks more than he should.  no drug use.

DIAGNOSES: — n/a.

BLOOD TYPE: — universal donor.

***

AESTHETICS:

NEATLY  TRIMMED  BEARD,  LAZY  SMIRKS,  SARCASTIC  QUIPS.  THE  MICHAEL  BLUTH.  REAL  LIFE  NATHAN  DRAKE.  BLEEDS  COFFEE  NOT  BLOOD.  UNHEALTHY  OBSESSION  WITH  TEEN MAGAZINE  QUIZZES.

CONNECTIONS  

students  with  an  aptitude  for  mental  magic  that  he  provides  additional  /  advanced  work  for  to  challenge  them.  (2/2)  dominic masters & rome hawks.

students  who  need  extra  help  in  one  or  more  of  the  aspects  of  his  curriculum.  this  would  include  after  hours  help,  extra  assignments,  or  one  on  one  attention  if  they  were  struggling  with  concepts  (1/4):  ella  bloom.

students  that  give  him  a  hard  time  in  class  for  one  reason  or  another.  could  be  people  who  sleep  in  class,  talk  back,  distract  others,  etc.  (1/??):  morgan  stife.

the  unholy  trinity:  fellow  teachers  who  like  to  get  together  and  be  chaotic,  shittalk  their  students,  and  forget  they’re  not  seventeen  anymore  bc  they’re  fucking  idiots  who  like  to  troll  (2/2):  maximus & reserved

fellow  teachers  who  like  to  get  together  and  drink  wine  after  stressful  days,  or  just  when  they  feel  like  it  tbh.  (1/????)  maxwell gray.

a  rival/enemy  from  when  he  was  @  arcanas  who  now  also  works  at  arcanas.  he  can’t  remember  why  they  don’t  like  each  other  but  he’s  dedicated  to  the  feud.  it’s  petty,  he  knows, but  he  sucks  at  admitting  he’s  wrong.  (0/1)

ex-wife.  see  wanted  connections.  (0/1)

childhood  friend.  fellow  witches  who  would  have  hung  around  people  who  were  haughty  and  thought  they  were  better  than  everyone  else.  ansem’s  parents  thought  they  were  hot  shit  so  maybe  their  parents  felt  the  same.  they  both  rebelled  against  what  their  parents  wanted  for  them  and  it  bonded  them.  (0/1)

partner  in  crime.  (28  years  old)  this  person  was  very  different  from  ansem.  different  species,  a  little  more  serious,  the  kind  of  person  you  wouldn’t  expect  to  be  friends  with  him.  they’re  probably  the  only  reason  ansem  even  passed  his  exams,  forced  to  study,  and  he  forced  this  friend  to  actually  have  fun  and  live  a  little.  they’re  still  close  but  maybe  fell  out  of  touch  over  the  years.  this  person  would  be  new  to  arcanas  as  a  staff  member,  or  teacher,  but  would  be  an  alumnus  preferably  from  house  aquis  but  could  be  any.  

others  to  be  added  when  it  isn’t  2am  and  my  brains  fried.

[amoralto]

Q: Paul McCartney: An Innocent Man? (October, 1986)

(Note: I’ve posted so many quotes and audio clips from this interview in the past (#interviewer: chris salewicz), I may as well post the entire printed interview as well. Still remains one of my very favourite Paul interviews - candid, emotionally fraught, brimming with preoccupations, and all the more revealing for it.

-

Paul McCartney curls up on the couch and relives the Beatles’ story for the first time since the death of John Lennon. “He was one great guy, but part of his greatness was that he wasn’t a saint.”

by Chris Salewicz

Paul McCartney is 44. He was 20 when his first composition appeared on record. Today he’s just returned from remixing a second single from his new LP Press To Play, his 27th solo or group studio album in 24 years.

He’s sitting on a sofa on the second floor of the building in Central London from which he directs his activities. Outside, on this sunny early afternoon, lie the neatly trimmed lawns of Soho Square; inside a forest of deco mahogany woodwork, a De Kooning on the wall and a chrome and neon-garlanded Wurlitzer jukebox of quite archetypal proportions and splendour. He’s wearing fawn moccasins, yellow socks, and a blue and white striped shirt and trousers and, despite the omnipresent grey hair, he looks in immensely good shape for someone who was still in the studio at three in the morning.

Part of McCartney’s agility as a communicator has been the paradoxical mastery of revealing nothing whatsoever of himself to journalists. This was particularly notable during the interviews he gave for Give My Regards To Broad Street, an almost unprecedented barrage of publicity in which it seemed that the more people he spoke to, the less he said. This was perhaps connected with a comprehension of the transparent unsubstantiality of the work. “Broad Street?” he says now. “You don’t stop things just because they’re not good; if you’ve done a bit of work, you put it out. I mean, if Picasso’s painted a thing…”

Today, however, on this Friday afternoon, Paul McCartney is immensely forthcoming. Possibly this is a reflection of the confidence he feels in his new LP, a work that stands almost on a par with Band On The Run, his finest solo record and one which, in many ways, seems to have a direct conduit to post-Sgt. Pepper Beatles albums.

The interview has a relaxed, conversational tone with no sense of formally structured questions and answers. In the cold light of print, his replies can occasionally take on a tone that seems almost petty in its self-justification, but such an emphasis is completely absent when he’s delivering these words to you in person.

The principle strength of the new LP is the quality of the songs, six of which McCartney co-wrote with Eric Stewart, the former 10cc singer and writer of such classics as ‘I’m Not In Love’, a song that is almost a parody of a McCartney love ballad.

The numbers were written, he says, in the manner in which he would work with John Lennon, sitting side-by-side, watching each other search for appropriate chords.

You’ve been in the studio all night re-mixing tracks from the new album for single release. How do you feel about the new LP?

I like it. I have a lot of trouble saying, ‘I think it’s great.’ I wish I was just a fan and I could genuinely like it without seeming wildly immodest. I can’t be objective yet. It’s going to take me a couple of months. I can listen to McCartney, I can just listen to that. I like that one; it’s growing on me. It’s a touchy subject. You’ve done a thing and there it is, it’s your presentation. You mean to get every bit of it right.

So how do you react to criticism?

When I see bad reviews, it’ll hurt me. I am giving myself a bit easier time in life these days. I’ve gone through so much criticism, and not just from critics. From people like John, over so many things, that like a fool I just stood there and said, ‘Yeah, you must be right.’ All those things I was said to be the cause of, I just accepted that I was to blame. I’m beginning to see it a bit differently now. I’m beginning to see a lot of what they say is their problem, not mine.

John was going through a lot of pain when he said a lot of that stuff, and he felt that we were being vindictive towards him and Yoko. In fact I think we were quite good, looking back on it; many people would’ve just downed tools in a situation like that, would’ve just said: ‘Look man, she’s not sitting on our amps while we’re making a film.’ That wouldn’t be unheard of. Most people just say, ‘We’re not having this person here, don’t care how much you love her.’

But we were actually quite supportive. Not supportive enough, you know; it would have been nice to have been really supportive because then we could look back and say, Weren’t we really terrific? But looking back on it, I think we were OK. We were never really that mean to them, but I think a lot of the time John suspected meanness where it wasn’t really there.

He was presumably fairly paranoid.

I think so. He warned me off Yoko once: ‘Look, this is my chick!’ Just because he knew my reputation. We knew each other rather well. I just said, ‘Yeah, no problem.’ But I did feel he ought to have known I wouldn’t. That was John; just a jealous guy. He was a paranoid guy. And he was into drugs … heavy. He was into heroin, the extent of which I hadn’t realised, till just now.

It’s all starting to click a bit in my brain. I just figured, Oh, there’s John, my buddy, and he’s turning on me. He once said to me, ‘Oh, they’re all on the McCartney bandwagon.’ Yet things like that were hurting him, and looking back on it now I just think that it’s a bit sad really.

I saw that thing in The Observer the other week, about the manuscript of the Apple Beatles biography and the vitriolic comments John made in the margins.

I think that shows the sort of pain he was going through. Look, he was a great guy, great sense of humour and I’d do it all again. I’d go through it all again, and have him slagging me off again just because he was so great; those are all the down moments, there was much more pleasure than has really come out. I had a wonderful time, with one of the world’s most talented people. We had all that craziness, but if someone took one of your wedding photos and put ‘funeral’ on it, as he did on that manuscript, you’d tend to feel a bit sorry for the guy. I’ll tell you what, if I’d ever done that to him, he would’ve just hit the roof. But I just sat through it all like mild-mannered Clark Kent.

This was hurting you, presumably.

Not half.

When did you actually get a perspective on it?

I still haven’t. It’s still inside me. John was lucky. He got all his hurt out. I’m a different sort of a personality. There’s still a lot inside me that’s trying to work it out. And that’s why it’s good to see that wedding-funeral bit, because I started to think, ‘Wait a minute, this is someone who’s going over the top. This is paranoia manifesting itself.’ And so my feeling is just like it was at the time, which is like, He’s my buddy, I don’t really want to do anything to hurt him, or his memory, or anything. I don’t want to hurt Yoko. But, at the same time, it doesn’t mean that I understand what went down.

I went at Yoko’s request to New York recently. She said she wanted to see me, I said I was going through New York and so I stopped off and rang her, and she said she couldn’t see me that day. I was 400 yards away from her. I said, ‘Well, I’ll pop over any time today; five minutes, ten minutes, whenever you can squeeze me in.’ She said. ‘It’s going to be very difficult.’ I said, ‘Well, OK, I understand; what is the reason, by the way?’ She said, ‘I was up all night with Sean.’ I said, ‘Well, I understand that. I’ve got four kids, you know. But you’re bound to have a minute today, sometime.’

She asked me to come. I’d flown in specially to see her, and she wouldn’t even see me. So I felt a little humiliated, but I said, ‘OK, 9.30 tomorrow morning, let’s make an appointment.’ She rang up at about 9.00 and said, ‘Could you make it tomorrow morning?’

So that’s the kind of thing. I’m beginning to think it wasn’t all my fault. I’m beginning to let myself off a lot of the guilt. I always felt guilty, but looking back on it I can say OK, let’s try and outline some things. John was hurt; what was he hurt by? What is the single biggest thing that we can find in all our research that hurt John? And the biggest thing that I can find is that I told the world that The Beatles were finished. I don’t think that’s so hurtful.

I’ll tell you what was unfortunate was the method of announcing it all. I said to the guy at the office. Peter Brown, of book fame, I’ve got an album coming out called McCartney. And I don’t really want to see too much press. Can you do me some question-and-answer things?

So he sent all those questions over and I answered them all. We had them printed up and put in the press copies of the album. It wasn’t a number. I see it now and shudder. At the time it was me trying to answer some questions that were being asked and I decided not to fudge those questions.

We didn’t accept Yoko totally, but how many groups do you know who would? It’s a joke, like Spinal Tap. You know, I loved John, I was his best mate for a long time. Then the group started to break up. It was very sad. I got the rap as the guy who broke the group up. It wasn’t actually true.

But legally you had to do that to get out of the contract with Allen Klein, didn’t you?

Yeah, legally I had to. I had to take the other Beatles to court. And I got a lot of guilt off that. But you tell me what you would have done if the entire earnings that you’d made — and it was something like The Beatles’ entire earnings, a big figure, everything we’d ever done up to somewhere round about ‘Hey Jude’ — was about to disappear into someone’s pocket. The guy I’m talking about, Allen Klein, had £5 million the first year he managed The Beatles. So I smelled a rat and thought, £5 million in one year, how long’s it going to take him to get rid of it all?

So I started to resist, and I was given a lot of pressure. The others said, ‘Oh, you’re always stalling’ when I kept refusing to sign Klein’s contract.

But the others suspected you of looking after number one by wanting to bring in your wife’s family as managers.

Obviously everyone worried that because it was my father-in-law, I’d be the one he’d look after. Quite naturally, they said, ‘No, we can’t have him.’ So in the end it turned out to be Klein. And I said, ‘Well, I want out of this. I want to sue this guy Klein.’

They said, ‘You can’t, because he’s not party to any of the agreements.’ So it became clear that I had to sue The Beatles. So obviously I became the baddie. I did take The Beatles to the High Court, which was a highly traumatic period for me, living to front that one out. Imagine, seriously, having to front that one out.

How did you feel through all that?

Crazy, just insane. So insecure. Half the reason I grew the beard.

People often put hair on their faces to hide.

It’s often a cover-up. And I had this big beard and I went to the High Court and actually managed to save the situation. But my whole life was on the line at that point. I felt this was the fire, this was the furnace. It had finally arrived. And we used to get shakes in our voices in court. We used to get the Nixon shakes, something we’d never ever had before. So we went through a lot of those problems. But the nice thing was afterwards each one of them in turn very, very quietly and very briefly said, ‘Oh, thanks for that.’ That was about all I ever heard about it.

But again, John turned it round. He said, ‘But you’re always right, aren’t you?’ See, there was always this thing. I mean, it seemed crazy for me because I thought the idea was to try and get it right, you know. It was quite surprising to find that if you did get it right, people could then turn that one around and say: ‘But you’re always right aren’t you?’ It’s like moving the goal posts.

I mean, it occurred quite a few times because I’m pretty ruthless, ambitious, all that stuff. No more than anyone trying to break into showbiz, but I can be pretty forceful. If we’ve gotta make a record, I’ll actually sit down and write songs. This could be interpreted as being overpowering and forceful.

I’d heard that you were the driving force of The Beatles, but that John would be more interested in doing anything but what The Beatles were supposed to be doing.

Yeah, I remember doing Let It Be and we sat around the table in Apple and I came up with this idea that we should get it on film. I remember John said, ‘Why? What for?’ I explained a bit more. He said, ‘I get it. You want a job!’ Yeah, that’s it! But it seemed strange to me that he didn’t. He seemed quite happy languishing out in St George’s Hill in Weybridge.

I always wanted to make the group great, and even greater. When we made the Let It Be album, and it was a bit crummy, I insisted that we made Abbey Road because I knew what we were capable of. I didn’t think that we’d pulled it off on Let It Be and then with the Phil Spector remix, we kinda walked away from that LP. In fact, the best version of it was before anyone got hold of it: the Glyn Johns early mixes were great but they were very spartan; it would be one of the hippest records going if they brought it out. Before it had all its raw edges off it, that was one of the best Beatles albums because it was a bit avant-garde. I loved it.

So then it was Abbey Road we were doing and I got some grief on that because it took three days to do ‘Maxwell’s Silver Hammer’. You know how long Trevor Horn takes to do a mix for Frankie Goes to Hollywood? It takes two days to switch on the Fairlight! I had a group in the other day, spent two days trying to find the ON switch! That’s what we’re into these days, you know.

I’m sure I did piss people off at the time, much as I tried not to. It just seemed to me when we had a session booked it was a cool idea to turn up. Like Sgt. Pepper: George turned up for his number and a couple of other sessions but not for very much else.

George was supposed to have resented you for always getting on his back.

He did resent it. Two examples; one on Abbey Road. I was beginning to get too producery for everyone. George Martin was the actual producer and I was beginning to be too definite, and George and Ringo turned around and said, ‘Look, piss off, we’re grown-ups and we can do it without you fine.’ People like me who don’t realise when they’re being very overbearing, it comes as a great surprise to be told.

So I completely clammed up and backed off: right, ‘OK, they’re right, I’m a turd.’ So a day or so went by and the session started to flag a bit and so eventually Ringo turned round to me and said, ‘Come on… produce’, and so it was like you couldn’t have it both ways. You either had to have me doing what I did, which, let’s face it, I hadn’t done too bad, or I was going to back off and become paranoid myself, which was what happened.

A lot of Wings was to do with that; I’d been told that I was so overbearing. If the guitarists in Wings wanted to play a solo a certain way, I wouldn’t dare tell them that it wasn’t good.

The other example that really pissed George off was when we were making ‘Hey Jude’. To me it had to have a sparse opening and it was going to build. So I started off ‘Hey Jude’ (sings) and George went ‘durnurnawnaww’ (makes guitar noise), and then ‘Don’t make it bad’, and he’d go ‘Derdlederlederdle’ and he was answering every line through the whole song and I just said, ‘No, man, I really don’t want that, it’s my song.’ The rule was whoever’s song it was to say how we did the arrangement for them.

That pissed him off, and I’m sure it pissed Ringo off when he couldn’t quite get the drums to ‘Back In The U.S.S.R.’, and I sat in. I remember sitting for hours thinking, ‘Should I say this thing?’ In the end it always came down to, ‘You should have said something,’ so it’s very hard to balance that. In the end I have to say that sometimes I was overbearing and sometimes they liked it.

Do you have much to do with them now?

I’m just starting to get back with them. It’s all business troubles. If we don’t talk about Apple then we get on like a house on fire. So I’ve just started to see them again. I had a great day the other day when George came down to visit me and for the first time in billions of years we had a really nice time. George was my original mate in The Beatles.

More than John?

He lived near me in Upton Green and I lived in Ardwick Road, and it was like half a mile away, so we took the same bus to the same school — the 500, which was the express — and then we got guitars at about the same time. We went through the Bert Weedon books and learned D and A together and we were quite big buddies then, so that was something I’d missed for all these years. We’d got all professional and Beatles and everything, and you lose that obviously, and he just came down the other day and we didn’t talk about Apple and we didn’t touch an instrument. It was just back as mates, like on the bus. He’s very into trees and planting and horticulture, as I am more now, and so we talked about planting trees. It was great to actually relate as two people and try and get all that crap out the window.

But that seems to be part of the process; he seems to be emerging more now anyway.

We’re all kind of coming to. We all brushed off this whole Beatles episode and sort of said, Well, it’s no big deal. Obviously it’s a big deal… it was a huge deal… if there ever was a big deal, that was it! So I don’t think half of us know what happened to us, really. I can never tell you what year anything was; literally they all go into a haze for me, the years and stuff. I keep seeing pictures of myself shaking hands with Mitzi Gaynor and I think, I didn’t know I met her. It’s that vague. And yet I look as straight as a die in there.

Were you on speed or something?

I don’t think so. I think it was just that life was speeding; you just met Mitzi Gaynor for five minutes and then you’d go and meet Jerry Lewis’s kids. It becomes very difficult after a while to know if you met 50 of them. I keep seeing weird photos of me with people that I didn’t even know I’d met. It’s quite embarrassing. Bowie’s got that problem too; he’s got huge periods of his life where he just does not know what happened.

When the money started to come in, were you aware of that or were you just living your life and you’d hear suddenly you were worth so much?

We used to ask them, ‘Am I a millionaire yet?’ and they used to say cryptic things like ‘On paper you are’ and we’d say, ‘Well, what does that mean? Am I or aren’t I? Are there more than a million of those green things in my bank yet?’ and they’d say, ‘Well, it’s not actually in a bank… we think you are.’ It was actually very difficult to get anything out of these people and the accountants never made you feel successful.

I remember we had the whole top five in America and I decided I wanted to buy a country house. I wasn’t asking for the world. In those days it would have cost about £30,000, top whack, and so I went to the accountants and they said, ‘You’ll have to get a mortgage’ and I said, ‘What do you mean, a mortgage? Aren’t we doing well yet? We’ve got the whole top five in the biggest market in the world! There’s gotta be some money coming in off that!’

They always try and keep you down. So you didn’t actually get much of a feeling of being very rich. The first time I actually saw cheques was when I left Apple, and it wasn’t me that saw them, it was Linda, because we’d co-written a few of our early things.

There are lots of stories about you and money. Miles, once the editor of International Times, who was a friend of yours in the mid-‘60s, told me about finding your MBE and a bunch of £20 notes stuffed into a sock drawer in your bedroom at the Asher house.

Yeah, I’ve heard that story too. I never remember actually having a wad of money like that. Still, it was nice of him not to nick it anyway, wasn’t it? I did know Miles very well. He was my mate. We had many a wondrous stoned evening in his place listening to all sorts of stuff.

That was another of the interesting things. I think that I’ve got a certain personality and if I give charity I don’t like to shout about it. If I get into avant-garde stuff, I don’t particularly shout about that either. I just get on with it. So way before John met Yoko and got avant-garde, I was like the avant-garde London bachelor with Miles in my pad in St. John’s Wood. I was making 8mm movies and showing them to Antonioni. I had all sorts of theories of music — we’d put on a Ravi Shankar record to our home movies and it’d synchronise and John used to come from Weybridge, kind of looking slightly goofy and saying ‘Wow! This is great! We should do more of this!’

I used to sit in a basement in Montagu Square with William Burroughs and a couple of gay guys he knew from Morocco and that Marianne Faithfull-John Dunbar crowd doing little tapes, crazy stuff with guitar and cello. But it didn’t occur to me in the next NME interview I did to rave about William Burroughs. Maybe it would have been good for me to do that.

It’s like Yoko met me before she met John. She turned up for a charity thing, she wanted manuscripts, any spare lyric sheets you had around. Ours tended to be on the backs of envelopes and to tell you the truth I didn’t want to give her any. They were very precious to me and the cause didn’t seem so great. So I said, ‘Look, my mate might be interested,’ and I gave her John’s address, and I think that’s how they first hooked up, and then she had her exhibition and stuff and then their side of the story started to happen.

I feel as though I have to justify living, you know, which is a bit of a piss-off. I don’t really want to have to sit around and justify myself; it’s a bit humiliating. But there are lots of things that haven’t come out. For instance, when they bust up their marriage, she came through London. He was in LA doing Pussy Cats with Nilsson and having a generally quite crazy time of it all, fighting with photographers and haranguing the Smothers Brothers, all because he genuinely loved Yoko and they had a very, very deep, strong relationship, but they were into all sorts of crazy stuff, stuff I don’t know the half of. A lot of people don’t know the half of that. Hints of it keep coming out in books but you never know if you can believe them.

You mean occultism?

All sorts. I certainly did get a postcard from Yoko saying ‘Go round the world in a South-Easterly direction. It’d be good for you. You’re allowed to stop at four places.’ George Martin got one of those and he sort of said, ‘Would it be alright if I go to Montserrat?’, and she said, ‘No.’ Actually, John did the voyage. John went in a South-Easterly direction around the world, but we all kind of went, ‘Sure, sure, we’ll go round the South-East.’ There are so many memories that come flooding in and it’s like a psycho session, the minute I get on this stuff. I’m on a couch and I’m just trying to purge it all.

Linda and me came over for dinner once and John said, ‘You fancy getting the trepanning tiling done?’ I said, ‘Well, what is it?’ and he said, ‘Well, you kind of have a hole bored in your skull and it relieves the pressure.’ We’re sitting at dinner and this is seriously being offered! Now this wasn’t a joke, this was like, ‘Let’s go next week, we know a guy who can do it and maybe we could all go together.’ So I said. ‘Look, you go and have it done, and if it works, great. Tell us all about it and we’ll all have it.’

But I’m afraid I’ve always been a little bit cynical about stuff like that — thank God! — because I think that there’s so much crap that you’ve got to be careful of. But John was more open to things like that.

Anyway, I was telling you about the marriage break-up thing. Yoko came through London and visited us, which was very nice. Linda and I were just married and living in this big old house in St John’s Wood. She came by and we started talking, and obviously the important subject for us is: ‘What’s happened? You’ve broken up then? I mean, you’re here and he’s there.’

She was very nice and confided in us but she was being very strong about it. She said, ‘No, he’s got to work his way back.’ I said, ‘Well look, do you still love him?’, and she said, ‘Yes.’ So I said, ‘Well, would you think it was an intrusion if I said to him, “Look, man, she loves you and there’s a way to get back”— sounds like a Beatles’ song — and I said ‘Would that be OK?’

She said she didn’t mind and we went out to visit him in L.A. in that house where all the crazy things went on and I took him into the back room and said, ‘This girl of yours, she really still loves you. Do you love her?’ And he said he did but he didn’t know what to do.

So I said, ‘You’re going to have to work your little ass off, man. You have to get back to New York, you have to take a separate flat, you have to send her roses every fucking day, you have to work at it like a bitch! Then you just might get her back.’ And he did. I mean, if you hear it from John’s point of view, it’ll just be that he spoke to Yoko on the phone and she said to him, ‘Come back.’

I always found it interesting that he got married a month after you.

I think we spurred each other into marriage. They were very strong together which left me out of the picture, so then I got together with Linda and we got our own kind of strength. I think again that they were a little bit peeved that we got married first.

Was it the kind of thing where there are two blokes who are good mates and one of them finds a girl and then the friendship breaks up?

‘Wedding Bells’ is what it was. ‘Wedding bells are breaking up that old gang of mine.’ We used to sing that song, Gene Vincent did it. It was like an army song and for us the Beatles became the army. We always knew that one day ‘Wedding Bells’ would come true, and that was when it did.

Trouble is, in trying to set the record straight I don’t want to blame John. I did this thing recently with Hunter Davies and they pulled out the one line, ‘John could be a manoeuvring swine.’ Well, I still stick to that, but I’d better not say it to The Sun because I’m just going to get hauled over the coals again.

I’ll tell you exactly why I said that. We had a business meeting to break up The Beatles, one of the famous ones that we’d been having — we’re still having them 17 years later, actually. We all flew in to New York specially. George came off his disastrous tour, Ring of flew in and we were at the Plaza for the big final settlement meeting. John was half a mile away at the Dakota and he sent a balloon over with a note that said ‘Listen to this balloon.’ I mean, you’ve got to be pretty cool to handle that kind of stuff.

George blew his cool and rang him up: ’You fucking maniac!! You take your fucking dark glasses off and come and look at us, man!!’ and gave him a whole load of that shit. Around the same time at another meeting we had it all settled, and John asked for an extra million pounds at the last minute. So of course that meeting blew up in disarray. Later, when we got a bit friendlier — and from time to time there would be these little stepping-stones of friendship in the Apple sea — I asked him why he’d actually wanted that million and he said, I just wanted cards to play with. It’s absolutely standard business practice. He wanted a couple of jacks to up your pair of nines. He was one great guy, but part of his greatness was that he wasn’t a saint.

You got an awful lot of shit for saying “It’s a drag” after he’d been killed.

Yea. I think why some politicians are so successful is that they have a little bleeper box in their heads and before they say something they run things through and they can see it as a headline. If it doesn’t look good they edit it. I have that sometimes, but in moments like that all my bleepers go out the window. I just came out of the place and somebody just stuck the proverbial microphone in the window of the car, which I’m mad enough to have open because, you see, I’m quite outgoing and I was telling the fans ‘Thank you, it’s alright.’ You know. Fab Macca, thumbs aloft, wacky… to me that’s just being nice… that’s just ordinary. I’m not going to carry any can for that kind of shit, for me that was OK… Sticking my thumb up isn’t some armour against the fans, it’s just a perfectly straightforward way of being friendly with people.

But, anyway, I said, ‘It’s a dra-a-ag.’ If I could’ve I might’ve just lengthened that word ‘drag’ for about a thousand years, to get the full meaning. Hunter Davies was on television that night, giving a very reasoned account of John, and all the puppets sprang right up there. I thought it was well tasteless. Jesus Christ, ready with the answers, aren’t we? Aren’t we just ready with a summary? Mind you, Hunter admitted to us years ago that he already had our obituaries written. They’re on file at The Times and they just update them, which is chilling to learn.

The question is, which is the more sensitive: my thing or his thing? He was the one I rang up about ‘manoeuvring swine’ too, so it shows what a buddy he is, he immediately put it in print.

That incident reminded me of John saying ‘We’re bigger than Jesus,’ which was a Maureen Cleave article for the Evening Standard. John and Maureen were good friends and in context it was actually John saying to the church, ‘Hey, wake up! We’re bigger than you.’

But you take it out of context, you send it to Selma, Alabama, you put it on the front page and you’ve got little 11-year-olds thumping on your coach window saying, ‘Blasphemer! Devil Worshipper!’ and I’ll never forget the sight of a little blond kid trying to get to us, and he would have done it, if he’d have got to us. I mean, at 11, what does this kid know of life and religion or anything? He’d just been whipped up.

It’s like Phillip Norman’s book Shout. It’s shameful the way it says that George spent the whole of his career holding a plectrum waiting for a solo. To dismiss George like that is just stupid, nothing less. George was a major influence musically. Trouble is with all these guys, when they come to interview you they come with a clipboard of facts that they’ve got from the files. That’s how Willie Russell wrote his play, John, Paul, George, Ringo… and Bert. That’s how I’ve become known as the one who broke up the Beatles.

The only thing I’m thankful for is that now the truth is starting to come out, and when I see that wedding changed to funeral, I start to realise that it was John’s problem, not mine.

What was his problem, do you think?

Heroin, a slight problem.

When did you know he was doing heroin?

When he was living in Montagu Square with Yoko after he’d split up with Cynthia. He never actually told us, no one ever actually saw him take it, but we heard. I was very lucky to miss that whole scene. I was the first one on coke in the group, which horrified the whole group, and I just thought, No sweat. The minute I stopped, the whole record industry got into it and has never stopped since.

I knew the time was up when I saw Jim Webb — Up Up And Away! — offering me a toot. I thought, ‘Hello, this is getting way too popular.’

When was this that you were doing it?

In LA, it was Sgt. Pepper time, it was my circle of friends: the William Burroughs, the Robert Frasers, the Rolling Stones crowd, and we’d use it to wake up after the pot. But that was quite shortlived and I hated it. I soon got the message that it was a big downer.

There’s a story that sums up all that drugs thing. When I went out to LA at the time of that Pussy Cats album I was offered angel dust. I said, ‘What is it?’ and they said, ‘It’s an elephant tranquillizer,’ and I said to the guy, ‘Is it fun?’ He thought for a moment and said, ‘No it’s not fun.’ So I said, ‘OK, I won’t have any then.’ That sums it up, you know. You had anything, man, even if it wasn’t fun! You sort of had to do it — peer pressure.

I was given a lot of stick for being the last one to take acid. I wish I’d held out now in a way, Although it was the times. I don’t really regret anything actually. I remember John going on The Old Grey Whistle Test and saying, ‘Paul only took it four times! We all took it twenty times!!’ It was as if you’d scored points…

Real twenty pints a night stuff, isn’t it?

It really is!! That’s it, exactly! Very northern. It’s the same thing. If you get it right with one crowd; of people, it’s wrong with another crowd, so you can’t win, basically. But it was great times and I really don’t regret it. I love a lot of what we did; we had screwed-up moments too, but who doesn’t?

Like Geldof — there’s this guy who does great stuff, but that doesn’t mean that he’s a saint. In fact, it’s often the opposite with these people; it just means that they’ve got Go Power.

I love the story where they finished the USA For Africa record and Geldof is buzzing and Michael Jackson and his family were having a light meal at about three in the morning. They’re all devout Jehovah’s Witnesses and they were all sitting there and Bob walks in and says, ‘You lot fucking disgust me!!’ The jaws just drop.

He didn’t make himself too wildly popular. I think that’s why he got a bit elbowed in the States. They never mention him. It’s the American guy they always mention. I don’t even know what his name is. Ken something. They all thank him. They never say, ‘And by the way, he got the idea off this mad Irish bog bandit.’

How did you feel at Live Aid? The first time you’d been on stage for ages and it all went wrong.

When the mic went? I felt very strange. It was very loosely organised and I turned up not knowing quite what was expected of me, other than that I had to do ‘Let It Be’. So I sat down at the piano, looked around for a cue to go, and there was just one roadie, and I looked at him for a signal. I started and the monitor was off and I thought, No sweat, this is BBC, this is world television, someone’s bound to have a feed, it’s just that my monitor’s off.

Then I wondered if the audience could hear because I knew some of the words of ‘Let It Be’ were kind of relevant to what we were doing. Anyway, I thought, This is OK, they can hear me, they’re singing along. I just had to keep going, so it was very embarrassing. The terrible thing was that in the middle I heard the roadies come through on the monitor, shouting, ’No, this plug doesn’t go here!‘ I thought, Hello, we have problems. The worst moment was watching it on telly later.

The event itself was so great, but it wasn’t for my ego. It was for people who are dying and it raised over £50 million, and so it was like having been at the battle of Agincourt. It’s something you’ll tell your grandchildren about. I know Paul Simon slightly regrets that he didn’t do it. He was asked, but he had other things to do. I very nearly didn’t do it; Bob just badgered me into it.

That’s your mother invoked in ‘Let It Be’, isn’t it?

Yeah, well, I had a lot of bad times in the ‘60s there, and we used to sort of — probably all the drugs — lie in bed and wonder what was going on and feel quite paranoid. I had a dream one night about my mother. She died when I was 14 so I hadn’t really heard from her in quite a while, and it was very good. It gave me some strength. In my darkest hour Mother Mary comes to me. I don’t know whether you’ve got parents that are still living, but if you do… I get dreams with John in, and my Dad. It’s very nice because you meet them again. It’s wondrous, it’s like magic. Of course, you’re not meeting them, you’re meeting yourself, or whatever…

What about ‘Lady Madonna’?

Lady Madonna’s all women. How do they do it? — bless ‘em — it’s that one, you know. Baby at your breast, how do they get the time to feed them? Where do you get the money? How do you do this thing that women do?

Was your mother a very strong force in your life?

Well, I loved her, you know, yeah.

Was it very traumatic when she died?

Yeah, but I’m a bit of a cover-up. There are many people like me in the world who don’t find it easy to have public grief. But that was one of the things that brought John and I very close together. We used to actually talk about it, being 16 or 17. We actually used to know, not in a cynical way, but a way that was accepting the reality of the situation, how people felt when they said, ‘How’s your mother?’ And we’d say, ‘Well, she’s dead.’ We almost had a sort of joke, we’d have to say, ‘It’s alright, don’t worry.’ We’d both lost our mothers. It was never really spoken about much; no-one really spoke about anything real. There was a famous expression: ‘Don’t get real on me, man.’

How did you feel about all the stick Linda got?

I feel sorry for her. She got a lot of stick, more than we admit to.

It presumably affected your relationship in some way?

It made us stronger, really; the thing I’m beginning to understand now about Linda was that we were just two people who liked each other and found a lot in common and fell in love, got married and found that we liked it. To the world, of course, she was the girl that Paul McCartney had married, and she was a divorcee, which didn’t seem right. People preferred Jane Asher. Jane Asher fitted. She was a better Fergie.

Linda wasn’t a very good Fergie for me, and people generally tended to disapprove of me marrying a divorcee and an American. That wasn’t too clever. None of that made a blind bit of difference; I actually just liked her, I still do and that’s all it’s to do with.

I mean, we got married in the craziest clothes when I look back on it. We didn’t even bother to buy her a decent outfit. I can see it all now; I can see why people were amazed that I’d put her in the group. At the time it didn’t seem the least bit unusual. I even had quotes from Jagger saying, ‘Oh, he’s got his old lady up onstage man.’

A lot of people give her stick for playing with one finger, but as a matter of fact they weren’t polyphonic, the Moogs, in those days. You can only play them with one finger; you can play them with five if you like, but only one’s gonna register, so it’s things like that all added to the picture, and by the time she did the ’76 tour with Wings, she was well good at stuff and actually I was quite surprised, I mean, she was holding down the keyboard job with one of the big bands in the world. From knowing nothing! I mean, the balls of the girl!

But along with the public condemnations, there were always millions of people who liked her. Our shows always did OK, and our records occasionally did OK. Occasionally we’d have a whopper burger that’d suddenly make it worthwhile. Then we’d have our big whopper failures, but as long as you measure them against your successes, it’s alright.

How do you feel about the Wings output?

I was never very happy with the whole thing but I’m actually starting to think that it was a bit churlish of me, because I’m meeting a lot of people now who had a completely different perception of the whole thing. I met a nurse recently who was a Wings fan! I mean, forget me, forget The Beatles, she was an actual die-hard Wings fan. I didn’t think they existed.

A lot of the younger people coming up didn’t really know the Beatles history. There are people who don’t know what Sgt. Pepper was. We find it a bit difficult to understand. It’s like not knowing what War And Peace is.So it’s OK. I was never very pleased with the whole thing, but I’m warming to it now. I’m starting to look at it through my own eyes, and saying, Wait a minute. What did we do? Where did we go wrong? Most people would give their right arm for the Wings career, to have hits as big as ‘Mull Of Kintyre’, ‘My Love’, ‘Band On The Run’, ‘Maybe I’m Amazed’.

But it came to an end when you were busted in Japan. How did that happen?

It happened because we got some good grass in America and no-one could face putting it down the toilet. It was an absolutely crazy move. We knew we weren’t going to get any in Japan. Anybody else would have given it to their roadies, but I didn’t want them to take the rap. It was lying on top of the bloody suitcase. I’ll never forget the guy’s face as he pulled it out. He almost put it back. He just did not want the embarrassment. But it’s a hysterical subject and I’d prefer to skirt round it these days, because I don’t want any of the pressures that go with it, so I’m telling everyone, stay clean, be cool.

I’m pretty straight. I know what crazy is.

[moeruhoshi]

Dragon!Natsu x Lucy

Lucy had a hard time trusting anyone after the awful childhood her father had given her, a stranger to love or anything akin to the feeling. What she craved for was a family. One to share every moment of their day with, to be able to smile and laugh with everyone around the dinner table, to feel the warmth she had only read about in books. Ones that her mother had gifted her. Ones that Lucy would read over and over again if to just barely remember what the warmth of her mother had felt like. She grasped at the strange necklace around her, one she wore every day per her mother's request.

'It belongs to your future'. She said, but it was confusing as to why she would say anything so seriously about an old dragon's scale. But she trusted in her words and had been convinced since childhood there was someone out there, waiting to meet her.

A strange mark had accompanied her as well, the scar hidden on her thigh, gratefully out of sight, her father had said. It looked somewhat like a flame etched brightly into her skin, Layla brushing it off with a simple fairy tale that she was blessed by the gods of fire. Not elemental wielders, but the first of their kind, dragons. She was young when she first heard such a thing, impressed with the possible existence of the actual creatures, but another story to keep Lucy happy and not dwell on the fact that she had a blemish at all. Sweet things like this always made her miss the magic of her mother. But she knew someone was out there, doing his best to find her, an emptiness in her heart someone was eager to fill.

Natsu cackled with laughter as his fist broke through another boulder, besting Gray for the fifth time in a row.

"It's an unfair match, you have scales to protect yourself from bruising." Gray groaned, Natsu shrugging as he whistled happily.

"Know when to just take the loss, ice tits.” He roared happily, dodging the burst of ice headed in his direction.

"Oi! What have I said about fighting?!" Erza clamored, the two shrinking away from each other and hiding their raised fists.

"S-Sorry, Erza...." She ushered for them to continue on their journey home, Happy perched on her massive toad of suitcases, enjoying a well-deserved nap. After a week-long quest. They had finally returned home to Magnolia, excitedly rushing toward the guild to see everyone again. Fairy Tail was always in full swing when members of their family returned home safely, endless drinking, partying, and fighting around the clock.

"Watch it, don't pull!" Natsu hissed for the millionth time, people always forgetting the unique necklace secure around him at all times.

"You’re still wearing that thing?” Gajeel gruffed, shaking his hand free from its position twisted around the collar of Natsu’s clothing.

"Igneel gave it to me, I don't want your shitty hands all over it." The dragon stuck his tongue at his kin, the metal beast growling in retaliation.

"I’ve never asked,” Levy started as she motioned to calm the iron dragon down. "But isn't that a bit girly? For your tastes, anyhow."

He shrugged and pulled it back out for her to see, the petite blunette nodding, Mira joining in as well to make an observation.

"The chain is rather thin, it even has a star hanging from it." Gray snickered as Mira pointed out its more girly attributes.

"Haven't I told you before?" Natsu tilted his head curiously as they shook theirs. "It belongs to my mate."

"Eh?!"

Now, they had all been well versed in the definition of a mate since Gajeel had marked Levy, but it never occurred to them that Natsu could even have a significant other. He was just too… well, Natsu.

"You've been hiding your girlfriend this whole time?! Where is she? I can't believe you haven't introduced us to her!” Mira whined, upset how far out of a romantic loop she had been.

"I haven't even met her myself," Natsu admitted, each member more dumbfounded than the last. The investment of the story came soon solely from the group surrounding him, save for his sister who already knew of their complicated situation.

"The hell does that even make sense then?" Gray asked, folding his arms as he leaned against a nearby table. “Talk about desperate.”

"It was an accident when I was younger; we were playing at a park, and I marked her while we were eatin’ a snack or somethin’. Igneel gave her my scale, and I got her necklace. Bonehead didn't think to get a name, so I'm still lookin' for her."

“Juvia has never heard such a wonderful love story,” The water woman sniffled, reaching for a tissue from Mirajane as she appeared at Gray’s side. “Tell it again, Natsu-san,”

“We’ve got another job,” Erza said as she interrupted the conversation, smacking the request form down on the table adjacent. “Security for a ball at the Heartfilia Mansion.”

“Lucy, you look just like your mother,” Spetto and the other maids geared joyfully as they finished tying the maiden into her dress. It was a vibrant white bodice with gold trimming, the skirt layered with finer golden silk in a ballgown style. She sighed as she thanked them, her hair tied up into a perfect and stiff bun, necklace wrapped secretly around it, as well as makeup done and earrings dangling delicately. Her back was quick to straighten as her father stepped inside, barely giving her a glance or a compliment before telling her the guests would be arriving soon, and her entrance was to be made as soon as they had all gathered.

Today, she knew the day would come far too quickly, was the day her father would announce her fiancé. No one she wanted to marry, of course, didn’t even matter what age he was. The only considering factor was the deals and money guaranteed by signing her away as a binding signature for partnership.

“The master would like you to do a thorough sweep of the first floor before sending you to patrol outside and at the gates. Everything must go well for the Miss’ engagement.” The three nodded and took their leave from the central office, Natsu pulling on his tie as he groaned.

“Do we really have to be here? I don’t see why an engagement party needs security,” Gray huffed as they began further onto the first floor of the Heartfilia mansion, checking out the rooms they were instructed to search before the guests had arrived.

“He was very specific about having the best guild make sure his daughter’s night was successful. No harm in a little precaution, especially since we’ll be getting a nice reward.” Erza reasoned with him, both Natsu and Gray nodding as the three split off to finish their job indoors more quickly.

The fire dragon never did like suits, the material always too constricting and had a tendency to chafe against his scales. He scratched at his chest as he walked into what appeared to be a library, immediately absorbed in the aroma surrounding practically every inch, every book. Natsu didn’t notice as he whined, eyes turning into a rich sapphire green, his body bristling with excitement, a foreign feeling filling his chest. The scent was more than intoxicating, gripped him like a collar and leash, pulling him further into the room so he could absorb everything before him. He desperately wanted to nuzzle against the books, finding a collection of old fairy tales to be the most heavily scented, ache pulling him to his knees.

“It’s her…” The fluctuation of his voice, the deeper more gravely side of him making its breakthrough as his dragon scenes were slowly taking him over. Natsu was quick to shake himself of the distraction, Gray calling from the door to have him return to their side.

“Gray and I will guard the front gates while you take the garden since your vision is better than ours. Don’t blow anything up, if you spot trouble call right away.” He nodded, marching away from the room and diving through a window; an action Erza highly disliked.

“Now presenting, our lady, Lucy Heartfilia!” The guests in the ballroom clapped as she walked through double doors at the top of the staircase, Lucy keeping her smile plastered as she walked gracefully down the steps. Her father waited for her hand, grasping it and taking a bow along with her before she was pushed into the mixed and passed from stranger to stranger. Some, of course, she had met at other functions her father had held, or they had gone to, no one sticking out except the many men who wished to lay a hand on her. The orchestra had begun to play more melodically songs, suitors quick to ask for a dance, one after the other, no one letting the poor girl rest. After many dances and several uncomfortable, slow ones, a guest had been kind enough to offer her a beverage, though the gesture was thoroughly disliked when all he wanted to do was stare down at her over spilling dress.

“Than you very much for the drink, Sir Gaeblog.” Lucy faked her kind smile as the older gentleman cozied to her side, pulling Lucy into a much less busy corner.

“Please, call me Precht. After all, you will see soon enough when your father announces our engagement.” He said without shame, smiling a sickly fake smile to the poor girl who tried her best not to blanch her disgust.

“E-Excuse me?” She coughed as a bit of water made its way down the wrong pipe.

“I’m sure he was waiting for it to be a surprise,” The older man hummed as he loomed over Lucy, her back finding its way, pressed against the wall. “But I didn’t want you setting your eyes on anyone else out there when you’re soon to be mine.”

Her body trembled as he walked away, Lucy quick to turn down an opposing hall, apart from the party and out of that confining mansion, everyone else much too occupied as Jude began a speech. She ditched her heels along the way, upsettingly rushing toward her mother's garden, heartbroken as she ran into its deeper parts, her body soon hidden under cover of many flower bushes. She fell against the cobblestone walkway, hands hiding her tears as she wept angrily into them.

“That man?! How could he!” Lucy screamed to no one but herself, grunting as she tossed the pins keeping her hair up, the old necklace falling into her palm, unable to be tossed out like the rest. Her lip quivered as she stared down at the small, red scale, her reality consuming her and ideas of a prince in her future crumbled.

“I’m sure mama would have wanted me to find you, but it’s too late,” She sniffled, eyes once again spilling with tears, her anger not even able to make its appearance. Her ears didn’t pick up on the sound of footsteps approaching until it was too late. Lucy stifled a shriek, quick to straighten herself and wipe the water from her cheeks before even daring to look up. Her eyes met ones she had never seen before, their obsidian deep and sharp, instantly taking her breath as they stared her down. She was at a loss of words herself, curious as the man knelt down to her level, a sudden warmth flushing her cheeks.

Never before did Lucy realize how cold she was, how pale her skin was until it filled in as though she had played in the sun for days on end. Her heart beat even more quickly as she stared into her eyes, Lucy shuddering as she bloomed to life, a practical fire igniting in her stomach.

“You…” He spoke softly, Lucy’s breath unknowingly held tight. His hand reached to tuck her hair behind her ear, wiping her cheek of its last fallen tear. She mewled at his touch, hands so callous never felt in her life before. The other came up and caressed her face in full, Natsu purring as he rested his forehead against hers, Lucy not minding the sudden contact at all. “I missed you.”

She couldn’t even think to ask him why or how similarly understanding that she too had missed him and was physically upset she had not met him long before. He slipped forward and took her into his arms, nose pressing wantingly as he took in her scent.

“Where have you been? I was waiting,” She said as she hugged him back, the dragon chuckling as he pulled her closer.

“I could ask you the same thing,”

[roccocowitch]

Happiest of birthdays to @kris-writes! You are a wonderful, talented human being and I am so proud of all you have accomplished!

(the art of Max and Jude by the amazing @skr1186!)

Here’s a little something I wrote of our babes...warning: spicey wall sexc times ;))

--------

Max shoulders open the door to his apartment, eager to shed the heavy work pants and boots to escape the heat of summer. He lets his bag fall, plopping to the ground with a thud, and he pauses as he notices a pair of horrendously ugly, violently bright shoes in the hallway. 

He smiles to himself as he places his boots next to Jude’s nursing clogs and heads into the living room, chuckling as he follows the trail of scrubs and undershirts haphazardly strewn in a path to the bedroom. It’s the morning, everything still and quiet; the call he’d gone on yesterday extended long into the night, and he crashed at the station until morning. By the state of his apartment, Jude faced a similar evening.

Padding softly, he pushes open the door, and for a moment his heart stops. 

Hazy light filters through heavy curtains, covering Jude in golden light. She’s curled on her side, arms wound around a pillow held tightly to her chest, blonde hair strewn in a wild halo. He takes note of the way his closet door is wide open, and how she has on the shirt he wore on their date a few nights ago that he hadn’t gotten around to washing. 

And it’s not as if he hadn’t seen her like this; he has, but only as he awoke beside her. Never has she made herself at home without him, like it was her home just as much as his. It’s so simple, but it settles in him as something that can only be right; she belonged here, in his bed, with him. 

He sets to work quietly stepping out of navy cargo pants, shucking his shirt and tossing it into the corner of the bedroom. Carefully, with surgical precision, he lifts the sheets and slips underneath. 

Max analyzes the pillow situation for a moment before oh-so-gently scooping up one of Jude’s arms, removing the pillow, and squirming in to fill the space himself. She mumbles something incoherent, brow furrowing, and she shifts, rearranging herself to curl around him, and settling back to sleep. 

He marvels at her for a moment, at how perfectly she fits with him. It’s seamless, easy, and he hums contentedly as he kisses the top of her head, breathing in her soft floral smell. 

He tries, really tries, to keep his hands still as he looks over her, and they twitch in their restraint, but Max is a greedy man, and he soon takes to wandering over her form, feeling every inch of skin that he can. 

It never ceases to amaze him at how soft she is. 

His touch begins innocently enough, just wanting to feel close, to soak in the sleepy warmth of her, but soon it grows rougher, and he grabs his favorite parts of her: her backside, her thighs, and as his hand inches up underneath the shirt to her breath, she shifts underneath him and wriggles closer.

“Mmm,” she mumbles, cracking open a blue eye. “Good morning, Sparky.” 

Max leans in and kisses her, his grin impish. “Good morning, indeed.” With one last squeeze of her ass, he opens his arms more and lets her nestle into their normal position, her half laying on his chest, their legs entwined. Brushing stray hairs away from her face, he kisses her forehead, smiling against her skin as she relaxes against him. “Rough night, love?”

“Mhm.” She nods into his chest and sighs deeply. “You smell like smoke.” She sniffs again. “Both kinds.” Jude looks up at him with a cocked brow and rolls her eyes. Max pouts and taps her lightly on her nose. 

“I’m down to a pack a month, which is saying something,” he grumbles. “You weren’t the only one who had a rough night.” 

Jude returns her head to his chest and they lay there a moment, happy to be near each other, the thought of them being apart always unfathomable when they’re together. Eventually, they begin to move and stretch the tiredness from their bones. 

“I need to shower.” 

Max moves to get up, but Jude clings to him, refusing to let go, a soft and muffled “Noooooo” escaping her. Chuckling, he lifts her with him, holding the underside of her thighs as she slings legs around his trim waist. 

She’s beautiful like this, pinked cheeks and mussed hair, and he leans into her touch as she cups his cheek, his stubble rasping against her palm. “I missed you.” Her voice is a whisper, earnest, and as they lock eyes something between them shifts. 

It takes Max all of three steps before he’s pressing Jude against the wall, both of them gasping as he presses himself against her, already hard and hot against her core. She reaches up, scraping her nails against his scalp and he growls as he ruts against her, biting and sucking on her neck. 

She reaches into the elastic of his boxers, smiling at the hiss she garners from Max as she strokes him, swirling the beads of wetness around the tip of him before bringing her fingers to her mouth, groaning at the taste.

“Fuck, you taste good,” she breathes, and Max moans, loving the way that her voice lowers and rasps when she’s like this, raw with desire. Ripping open the buttons on her (his) shirt, too impatient to deal with damn things, he runs a rough palm down her sternum until he reaches her folds, already slick and ready for him. 

He presses in a finger, then two, curling them in just the right way he knows will unmake her. Jude is already babbling, breathy half-sentences that drip with need. He kisses her quickly, hard, messy, licking into her mouth before removing his digits and sheathing himself to the hilt in one fluid thrust.

She cries out for him, clutching at his shoulders, his back, anything to give her purchase to buck against him. Max takes a hand and palms her breast, his thumb and forefinger tweaking the nipple before he bends down and takes it into his mouth. 

The noises they make are filthy, bordering on obscene, and loud in the quiet morning air, but it only seems to drive them further, encourage them. It doesn’t take long before Max feels her walls flutter around him, small coos escaping her with stuttered breaths, and he captures her lips as she crests the wave of her release, loving the taste of her cries on his tongue. 

Max follows soon after, his hands gripping her ass hard enough to bruise, and he spills into her as their hips seam tight together. 

They don’t move for a while, gathering themselves and steadying their breathing, their foreheads pressed together. Jude reaches up and takes his head in her hands and kisses him gently, reverently. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up.”